#in a shocking twist that surprised nobody: i like this man :)
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missygoesmeow · 2 months ago
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sooooo i got a new video game :)
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a-hazbin-reader · 11 months ago
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Gods I just have the funniest idea ever!
Can you do where Alastor will just do the most demonic, cannibalistic and brutal things ever (that even Lucifer was convinced that this mf CANNOT be redeem) but wifey was just sighing, heart eyes and goes 'isn't he the most adorable 🥰'
YES-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Murder, Cannibalism
Description: ☝️⬆️
A lot of people tend to forget that you're ALSO in hell for a reason, assuming you to be Alastor's loving wife and not thinking beyond that
They forget that you love all of your husband, even his twisted side that scares everyone else
Maybe they somehow missed the days you tenderly wiped blood of his face after a particularly large meal of demons who got in his way
"You really should be more mindful of the mess you're making, hiding this lovely face with all this blood."
"Apologies, darling~"
Or the way you would sigh happily whenever the radio static in his voice would intensify due to anger
"He's so cute when he's angry~"
They were probably too busy staring at his humongous demon form to notice how you practically swooned and got weak in the knees at the sight
"Oh honey~ In public~?"
Nobody except Husker, who has been with you two long enough to know just how fucked up you are
Somehow, nobody at the hotel seems to notice any of these signs until Husk points it out to them
"How did that creepy fucker even pull Y/N anyways? There's no way that bitch is actually into his mess!"
Charlie is trying to shut Angel up before either you or your husband hear him, Vaggie nodding in agreement with Angel
Until Husk slams back a shot and points you, innocently reading and sitting in Alastor's lap
"What the fuck? Have any of you actually been using your eyes!? She fucking loves the shit he pulls!"
Everyone's whips their heads around to look at you in surprise, you only laugh and play with the ends of your husband's hair
Alastor's head does a full turn as he gives them a smug grin as he accepts a small kiss on the cheek from you
"What can I say? I'm just irresistible~"
They all start to pay closs attention to your relationship with Alastor after that, especially when he being particularly monstrous
And of course, Husk was fucking right
Alastor is squeezing some guy to death with a tentacle? You're fanning yourself from the balcony with your hand
"Isn't he just the most handsome man you've ever seen? Is it hot out here? I feel like it's hot out here..!"
"...sure, doll..."
You miss the way Angel scoots away from you and hides behind Vaggie
He's dangling another poor soul over his mouth and cackling at that sound of their terror? Suddenly, everyone sees the kiss you blow his way and the wink he gives you
"Remember to chew, darling~! I don't want you to get a stomachache from that lowlife!"
"Darling, you're embarrassing me..!"
Charlie is torn between being horrified and thinking that you two are the cutest couple ever
Alastor decapitates the next one and brings you the head as a gift? You're blushing and holding it like he just gave you a precious bouquet of flowers
"Oh, Alastor, aren't you just the most man romantic in hell~"
"I thought you might enjoy it~"
He looks so pleased with himself, leaning in to accept a gracious kiss on the cheek from his beloved wife
Vaggie is just so visibly shocked, looking at Husk in disbelief, the bartender simply rolling his eyes
"I told you, she's just as fucked up in the head as he is."
They all watch in shock as Alastor picks you up and carries you inside, the sound of your delighted giggling haunting them
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Enjoy~
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artist-issues · 4 months ago
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it’s the bane of my Halloween that there are so few good werewolf stories that aren’t just shock-and-awe, “let’s show you how many variations on sex and variations on the dismemberment of the human body there are!”
I just keep watching The Wolf Man & reading The Were-Wolf, and sometimes throwing a little Marvel’s Werewolf By Night in there.
Where’s the good stuff? Where’s the “man’s desire to be more than what he is leads him to a dark, twisted, out-of-control place?” Where’s the “pure sacrifice can slay the beast?” Where’s the “a seemingly good man struggles with the monster within?”
Why do I have to keep seeing weird twisted furry fantasies; or SURPRISE, the werewolf is a RELIGIOUS LEADER AGAIN; or look, we spent our whole budget so you can see this naked guy’s bones rearrange themselves; or look, he likes being a werewolf, it’s like a sadistic superpower for him; or look, what a unique twist—the werewolf can be the gooood guyyy as a tired old allegory for how “othered” vaguely “different” members of society can be; or look, “look, you don’t like any of those, we’ll just show you comically large werewolf talons stabbing through the face of a screaming human—in glorious red 3D! That’s what you wanted, right?”
No. No, it’s not.
And don’t suggest cartoon episodes about werewolves to me. Because those always hit the same trope; “the werewolf isn’t the real side of the person with werewolfism—they can be cured by being reminded of who they truly are through love!”
I mean that trope gets close. But it’s not werewolf fiction. Werewolf myth is supposed to be about a man who really is a monster—he wants what he’s not allowed to be—and then, as an object-lesson of that man-trying-to-meddle characteristic, the man gets to be “what he’s not allowed to be”—instead of a human, he loses all reason, all free will, all desire for good things, and instead can desire only blood. Then he has to slowly realize that. Then he has to either try, unsuccessfully, to protect others from himself—OR he has to be killed by purity. At it’s best, it’s the sacrifice of someone or something pure—but most iconically, that’s just “something silver.”
WHY DOES IT SEEM LIKE NOBODY WANTS TO WRITE GOOD WEREWOLF STORIES ANYMORE?
We lost the point. We lost the point. The monster stories are supposed to say 1) there is such a thing as purely evil things, so beware & 2) the purely evil things can be triumphed over, but not through the effort or acceptance of the purely evil things, themselves.
That’s the point! Why do you think we have all those myths and legends across cultures? It’s not to say, “try werewolfism, it’s fun.” It’s not to say, “drink blood!” It’s to say “beware, there are monsters out there, and here’s what to do about it.”
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gamerwoo · 8 months ago
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Hyunjin: Age-Restricted (Epilogue)
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Characters: Hyunjin x female reader (ft other skz members)
Genre/warnings: nanny!reader, ex-porn star/neighbor!hyunjin, fluff, humor, alcohol consumption, implied smut but nothing explicitly happens, if i missed anything lmk!!! (minors dni!!!)
Word count: 4,370
Summary: You think it’s luck when the new family you nanny for is so stupid rich that they rent you a fancy new apartment just so you can live closer to them. You think it’s luck when the guy across the hall is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your entire life and makes an effort to talk to you. But that’s just about where your luck runs out, because Hyunjin is more out of your league than you could ever imagine, and you’re just some hopeless virgin who never had good luck in the first place.
a/n: we finally reached the end!!! i will be revisiting this bc i just love the characters and universe so much so there will be little spin-offs and such here and there. thank you sm for all the love this series received :') <3
Previous | Series Masterlist
Out of all the outfits you’d seen Hyunjin wear, this was definitely the most handsome he’d ever looked. Even if it wasn’t as intricate as some of the other suits he’d worn, this was by far the best he’d looked. Standing in his all-black suit, he smiled at you across the aisle, absolutely beaming as he took in all the work on your hair, makeup, and perfectly-tailored dress. The song that the small orchestra played was a love song you were somewhat familiar with but you couldn’t put a name on – you didn’t have a say in the music and nobody told you what it was called. But the band put a twist on it to sound more like a wedding song since it was, in fact, a wedding.
All you could see was Hyunjin. Felix and Jeongin standing behind him as groomsmen were basically just blurs to you. All the flowers, the small audience, the officiate – everything had faded out of view. You had Hyunjin tunnel vision.
Unfortunately, Kit’s head was now eye-level with you because of the heels she wore, and it mildly destructed your view of your boyfriend. The white veil pinned above her perfect curls didn’t help, either.
You were a bit shocked that Kit had asked you to be her maid of honor. You thought she must’ve had other friends or family that she had known longer or were closer with. She did have a friend from the industry in her bridal party, as well as Changbin’s sister, but that was really it. She claimed you were her favorite girl in her life and she wanted you to be the maid of honor, and really, who were you to say no? You loved Kit and felt honored that you meant that much to her.
Of course, Hyunjin was Changbin’s best man. You remembered how he was beaming when Changbin had asked him. He had come back from a night out with Changbin, Felix, and Jeongin, and he squealed about how all of them were in the wedding party but he was the best man. It was really sweet how much Changbin and Hyunjin cared about and supported each other.
The wedding was big and extravagant like you thought it would be since it involved Kit. While you knew she wasn’t the one who found marriage to be completely necessary, you knew that if she were going to have a wedding to make Changbin happy that she would want to go all out. And as anybody could guess, Changbin would never tell Kit no. The wedding looked like if the Twilight wedding was held in a warm, sunny field outside of a large venue. The venue itself just looked like someone’s large palace. It made you wonder just how much money Changbin and Kit were making, but that wasn’t any of your business. You just had to sit back and enjoy the wedding.
Well, after the ceremony, of course.
The crowd consisted of Kit’s dad’s side of the family, as well as Changbin’s entire family, your old roommates who had integrated into the friend group, and some of Changbin and Kit’s own friends that you’d either met a couple of times or had never seen before. You were actually a bit surprised – and intimidated as you stood in front of the crowd – by how many people they’d invited to this wedding.
The ceremony was short, but sweet. They each prepared vows, and that was honestly the longest part of the whole ceremony, but it was the most entertaining as well as the sweetest. They both put little jokes here and there in their vows to tease the other, which made everyone laugh. But in the end, they were both sniffling with eyes filled with tears of happiness. They kissed, were dubbed married, and walked back up the aisle as they smiled and held hands. 
Leaving you back to grinning like a goofball at your boyfriend across the aisle, who tried to hold in a laugh as he shook his head back at you.
The justice of the peace gestured for you and Hyunjin to come together, so you both walked forward to meet in the middle. You hooked your arm through his, carrying your bouquet as you walked back up the aisle.
You felt Hyunjin lean into you before you felt his warm breath fanning your ear as he said quietly, “This’ll be us someday.”
You tried to contain your eyeroll – you didn’t because you still couldn’t control your facial expressions and had started to believe you never would – since you knew pictures were being taken as you replied, “Probably soon since you have to rush straight into everything.”
Hyunjin scoffed, “Angel, you already know it’s the drama gene. I thought we were passed this.”
-
“So I block her number, but then Jeongin also has to block her number because she started calling him,” Felix explained, talking about a development in the story of him and a girl he started going on dates with from a dating app. 
The short of it was that he matched with this cute brunette girl with freckles, they went on three dates, and she slowly started revealing more red flags throughout each date until the third and final date where Felix broke it off. Now, she was stalking him.
“Ew,” Minho showed a look of disgust, holding a beer bottle in his hand as he leaned against the bar and listened to Felix’s story. 
He was sitting in a stood between the two of you, pulled out just enough that he could look at you both comfortably. You were sitting in a stool on his other side, turned sideways to face your two friends while your arm rested on the cool countertop and your hand wrapped around your mixed drink. You were currently drinking Changbin’s signature drink, which was a whiskey sour. You decided you like it better than Kit’s spicy strawberry daiquiri.
“Yeah, I know!” he agreed, eyes wide. “So we both have her blocked, but then she starts showing up at work!”
“Dude, what?” you laugh, unable to believe what you were hearing. “How did she find out where you work? Did you tell her?”
“No! Never!” he insisted. “I was always sober for my dates and I was so sure to be careful with giving out information too personal on the first date. I just said I worked at a hotel which is…almost true. It’s not a hotel but it’s, like, the same sort of job, right? Anyway, after the end of the first date, I knew I wasn’t gonna trust her with anything personal yet, and the dates kept getting worse and worse, so I never said anything.”
“Yeah, she’s just a certified psycho,” Minho nodded before taking a sip of his beer. It was a bit weird seeing Minho all cleaned up, but you had to admit he looked nice. Perfectly combed brown hair, the jacket of his tux left at his table draped across the back of his chair, and the sleeves of his white button-up were rolled up his forearms. You’d known Minho a long time but never knew he could look this handsome. 
So the reason he’s single has nothing to do with his looks, you thought to yourself. Got it.
“Crazy people will find out anything,” he continued once he had swallowed. “Take Jisung for instance. He knows everything. …And somehow still nothing at all.”
You shrugged with a slight nod. Jisung was definitely the dumbest smart person you knew.
“Okay, but Jisung isn’t stalking people,” Felix stated.
“Okay, but she found out where you work,” you interrupted, trying to get the story back on track. You were very invested. “Then what happened?”
“Yeah, so she showed up during the day before mine or Jeongin’s shifts started but she was asking for me, right? Well, I go in for my shift and Hannie was leaving and mentioned how this girl came in asking for me and she described her. So obviously, I’m like, we need to ban this girl from coming back here. Well she put in an application to live there!”
Your eyes went wide and so did Minho’s. This girl was straight-up insane.
“Does she realize how much that place costs?” you asked.
“Possible sugar mommy,” Minho suggested.
“Oh, shut up,” you told him, rolling your eyes. “So what’re you gonna do?”
“So, what I’m thinking I should do–”
You suddenly saw an arm swing between you and Felix, slapping the counter. You first looked to see it was Kit in her smaller white dress for the reception. It had sheer long sleeves like her actual wedding dress, but the rest of the dress was a plain ivory that was form-fitting and went down to her mid thigh.
“Speaking of psycho sugar mommies…” Minho mumbled before sipping his beer like he didn’t say a word.
Then you followed her tattooed arm down to her hand and saw she slapped cash on the counter. Twenty to be exact.
Felix’s eyebrows were furrowed, “What’s that for?”
Behind Kit was Changbin still in his suit, but without the jacket. You thought the suspenders might make him look silly, but you had to admit, he looked pretty good with them. His hands were in his pocket, but instead of looking disappointed like you thought he might, he was smirking.
Instead of waiting for Kit to answer Felix’s question, your head was whipping around, eyes darting to find your target.
“_____ wins,” Kit sighed. “Unfortunately, we didn’t count on the weird one having just natural weird-kid rizz.”
Finally, you spotted him. Through the crowd, diagonally across the room from you, was Jisung standing there beside a girl with beach blonde hair, and wearing heels that made Jisung perfectly eye-level with her very large breasts – even you were staring and you were shocked to see Jisung was looking straight up into her eyes the entire conversation. You could tell that he was a little nervous but was trying to play it off – the beer in his hand was probably helping – but also that she was very blatantly hitting on him. Touching his shoulder, biting her lip, and twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
Yeah, Jisung may be weird, but he had an undeniable draw to him because he was weird. That’s why you bet your twenty bucks on him.
The other two at the counter began looking around to see why you were smiling and laughing like a maniac. When they spotted Jisung with someone who was obviously one of Kit’s friends, they turned back to you.
“Hang on, what’s happening?” Minho asked.
“Us and Hyunjin made a bet on who would pull a pornstar first,” Changbin clarified with a chuckle as he pulled one hand from his pocket and handed you a twenty himself between his forefinger and middle. “_____ made a brave choice and put her money on Jisung.”
“But it’s always the weird ones…” Kit sighed heavily, shaking her head like the loss of fourty bucks between her and her new husband was the worst thing to happen to her.
Changbin smirked and gently elbowed her, “You of all people should’ve known that.”
Now, the two men you had been having a conversation with were staring at you. Minho looked angry, and Felix just looked offended.
“Jisung?!” Minho demanded. “You picked that freak over me?!”
“Well clearly for good reason,” you laughed, gesturing over to Jisung who was still having a conversation with the blonde girl. “How many pornstars have you talked to besides these two and Hyun?”
“What’s going on?” Jeongin waltzed up with a drink in his hand, and Seungmin and Chan behind him with drinks of their own. “We saw Minho looks pissed.”
“Did you know about this bet?” Felix asked them.
“What bet?” Seungmin asked.
“The four chuckleheads made a bet on which one of us would pull a pornstar first, and the traitor didn’t choose any of us!” Minho exclaimed.
None of them seemed to care, and Chan was the one shrug and ask, “Who’d you choose.”
“The winner,” you grinned widely, pointing over at Jisung.
The small crowd turned their heads. That was when they started to care.
Well, except for Chan who just smiled and nodded and said, “Damn, good for him.”
“Jisung?!” Seungmin shouted, whipping back to you. “You picked that weirdo over your best friend?!”
“Hey!” Minho scowled.
“Clearly it was the right decision,” you shrugged. “Don’t be mad that I was right.”
“It’s not about being right, it’s that you didn’t have faith in us but you did in him,” Jeongin frowned, also clearly very butthurt about the situation.
“For good reason!” you insisted.
As the group began attacking you for your choice, Jisung suddenly walked up and let out a breathy, “Hey…”
Everyone looked at him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide. But more perplexing, he had a napkin stuffed into the pocket of his unbuttoned suit jacket.
Chan reached over and plucked the flimsy paper out and saw that there was a number written down on it in red pen. He was grinning and giggling, but everyone else – other than you and the happy couple – seemed annoyed and began groaning and huffing.
With fearful eyes, he looked across the group at Kit, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do anything with her. I’m just a guy.”
“Truthfully, Aliyah is never like that,” Kit laughed. “She’s actually painfully shy unless she turns the persona on. She was really trying to impress you.”
“And for what!” Minho shouted, gesturing very sharply at the flustered boy.
“Porn stars are also very well aware that sex isn’t like in porn,” Changbin told him matter-of-factly with a chuckle. “We’re…still people, dude.”
“That’s not a person, that’s a goddess,” he said, pointing back to where Aliyah once stood but was now off giggling with some friends like a middle-schooler who just got asked out by her crush by her locker.
It was actually really cute.
“_____,” Changbin spoke up while the group was either trying to give Jisung a pep talk – that was mostly just Kit and Chan – or were complaining how it shouldn’t have been him, “Hyunjin still owes you money. I think he’s outside.”
He ended the statement with a wink and gestured for you to leave the group as he stepped aside to make room for you. You weren’t entirely sure what the wink was for, but you got up and slid between him and Kit to go outside, leaving your drink at the bar. Either it would get drunk by one of your friends, or it would be there when you returned. You didn’t care either way.
The outside back garden of the venue looked like something out of a fairytale. There were bushes that went up to your hip that were perfectly trimmed, and flower bushes scattered about. The bushes were spread out and separated between pathways with benches scattered throughout the garden. And in the center of it all was a beautiful fountain surrounded by four benches that were spaced out with a few feet in between them.
You found your boyfriend sitting on one of the benches by the fountain, but he was facing away from the fountain and the building, staring up at the night sky. Surprisingly, you could still see a decent amount of stars since the lighting was so warm and dim outside. Wordlessly, you went over and sat down beside him, the bottom of your dress hitting the ground. You were too tipsy at that point to care about it getting dirty, though.
“Wish I brought my pad now,” he mused quietly. “I didn’t think the sky would be so pretty. Watercolors would capture this pretty well.”
All you did was hum and nod in agreement, your eyes also on the stars.
You felt Hyunjin’s head turn, his gaze now on you. He studied your profile like he wanted it to burn into his memory – if it already wasn’t. 
“I was serious before,” he told you.
You turned to look back at him, “What?”
“When I said that would be us someday. And sooner rather than later.”
Once again, you scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “Yeah, babe, I know.”
“Oh, do you think I’m bluffing?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “Do you really think my dramatic ass wouldn’t go out the morning after we first had sex to buy you a ring?”
That caught you off guard. Your eyes were locked on him again, searching for any hint of him kidding around or just saying that to get your attention. You wanted to call him crazy. What kind of incel would go out and get an engagement ring after one night of intimacy?
But you had to remember this was Hyunjin, and he was as dramatic as they come. But he always was sure of his decisions before he made them. And he was sure of you from the start.
However, this was a huge deal, and you had to call him on his bluff. He must’ve been exaggerating. Who the hell in their right mind would go out and buy a ring immediately after some probably-decent-at-best sex?
So your eyes narrowed, “Hwang Hyunjin, there’s no fucking way you did that.”
The look he gave you said, ‘Oh really?’ as he immediately leaned toward you and began digging in his right pocket. 
Oh god, was he serious? Did he actually have a ring? And he could see the panic replace the smugness on your face because his smirk only widened.
If he was serious, you couldn’t let this happen now. And maybe he was just fucking with you, but this wasn’t a chance you could take anymore.
“No, no, no!” you rushed to get the word out as you scrambled to reach over and grab his arm, stopping his actions. “It’s literally your best friends’ wedding! You can’t propose at a wedding! Stop it!”
With loud laughter, Hyunjin pulls his hand out of his pocket, pulling the inside of it out with his index and thumb. You could see there was nothing there, and Hyunjin had, in fact, played you. You did find it funny, but you scowled at him anyway. He could still see in your eyes how amusing it was, so he only laughed harder.
“I’d never do that. I’m not that dramatic that I’d take the spotlight like that,” he promised, still laughing. But then he stopped, leaning into you. “But, tomorrow is completely on limits.”
As he gave you a sweet smile and batted his eyelashes, you pushed his head away and rolled your eyes, “Yeah, okay, just give me my twenty bucks.”
His eyebrows raised as he sat back again, “Oh, Jisung won?”
You nodded.
He let out a deep sigh as he went into his other pocket where he was keeping his wallet, mumbling, “I really thought it was gonna be Felix…”
“No, you just have a crush on Felix,” you reminded him as he slid a twenty out and you snatched it up.
“But nothing compared to what I feel for you, my love,” he cooed, and you could tell he was trying to be overly-sweet, but also that he meant it. So when he puckered his lips, you sighed and gave him a chaste kiss. He hummed and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Oh!” you suddenly had a thought that you had wanted to bring up to Hyunjin. “Changbin’s sister told me I don’t need to babysit anymore because their parents want to bring them to the zoo tomorrow, so I’m free to, like, rot in bed or whatever you wanna do tomorrow.”
Word had gotten to Changbin’s older sister, who had a son, that you used to be a nanny and you had been a free agent. He got the two of you in contact, and she offered you a job. And she was a great boss with an easy kid to take care of, so you’d been working for her for the last almost year.
“Ugh, thank god,” he sighed as he leaned into you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “It would feel so awful to go home, celebrate our friends’ marriage, and then wake up to an empty bed.”
Your eyebrows raised as you looked down at him where he had his head rested on your shoulder, “Oh, you had plans tonight?”
He rolled his eyes, “Come on, _____. We both know I have plans for us almost every night.”
-
“Baby?” Hyunjin’s soft voice was breaking through your sleep as he gently shook your shoulder. “_____, my love.”
You got home at about 11:30. There was no after party since Kit and Changbin had a few friends who were either sober or had substance addictions, and the pair didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. So while you had expected for some sort of celebration to continue after the venue had shut down, you were a little relieved to know you could go home and go to sleep.
Despite Hyunjin’s words, he had rolled over and was seemingly out before you even got out of the bathroom after taking off your makeup. But you were fine with that. You had all day the next day to do whatever the two of you wanted anyway, so you laid down beside him and fell asleep.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed between then and now.
You hummed in response, rubbing your eyes.
“It’s 12:01,” he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning your hair. “It’s tomorrow.”
“Mm…so?” you asked groggily, trying to roll over with your eyes still closed. You were now on your back, arms sprawled out but legs still in the same curled-up position.
He chuckled, “Open your eyes.”
You blinked them open. You were pretty sure one actually opened before the other one like a lizard. And you had to blink a few times to focus on anything. But when you did, you shot straight up.
Hyunjin was sitting up in bed, facing you with a fond smile, and a small box held open with a dainty but absolutely sparkling and stunning ring in it.
“But, tomorrow is completely on limits.”
He really wasn’t bluffing.
“I could spend hours talking about how much I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I already do that every other night,” he laughed softly. His cheeks were flushed pink, and you were sure this was maybe the fifth time you’d seen Hyunjin flustered to any capacity. “So, for once, instead of doing all the dramatics, I want to keep it simple. Just like that first night. Simple, yet romantic.
“So, ______,” he was giggling, and you were giggling. And you were both leaning in closer and closer. “Will you marry me?”
Your heart was fluttering in your chest and you had that weird cold/hot feeling you got in your stomach when you were about to have an anxiety attack. But this time, it was a good feeling. It made your smile widen and your giggle go higher because you were just so excited and happy and every good feeling you could possibly have even if you felt like you might throw up.
And it was a good thing Hyunjin did this all sitting in bed because you were sure your legs would give out if he did this all traditionally.
You wanted to ramble out something like “a million times yes” or “i’d say yes in every universe” or something to really get the point across, but that felt too cheesy and insincere. But just “yes” felt like it wasn’t enough. So instead, you just sat there nodding furiously with a smile so wide you thought your face would split into two.
“Don’t know how to reply?” he guessed because he knew to this day you still overthought sometimes.
You nodded again.
But he knew you so well and knew you didn’t have to say anything. So he sealed it with a kiss so you didn’t have to worry about saying anything at all. When he pulled away, his forehead stayed on yours as he looked down and slid the ring on your finger.
He smiled, “Perfect fit.
“And speaking of perfect fits…” he chuckled evilly while he grabbed your waist and rolled you over so you were laying down again on your back and he was above you, “we never got to our plans after the wedding.”
Your eyebrows furrowed and your head cocked to the side as you looked up at him, “I don’t ge–... Hyunjin!” your cheeks heated as you got what he meant, and he just laughed.
“Good thing you’re not working tomorrow. Would hate to have Eunwoo ask why you’re walking funny.”
“Yeah, don’t get me fired from a second job,” you joked.
“I’m always more than willing to be the sole provider,” he reminded you with a playful grin as he nudged his nose against your jaw.
“Save your money, Hwang. We have a wedding to plan now,” you told him as he left soft kisses along your neck.
“Are you sure you don’t want to elope?”
“Really? You want to miss out on the one time you can be as big and dramatic and romantic as you want?” you laughed.
“Oh, we can still have a giant party. But I want to be married to you now,” he pulled away to grin down at you, his forehead resting against yours. “But if it’s what you want, I can wait.”
“I love you,” you told him sweetly.
“God, I never get sick of hearing that,” he chuckled as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I love you more. Can’t wait for you to be mine.”
“I’m always yours. Ring or no ring.”
“Now who’s the dramatic one?” he asked teasingly, his tongue poking out playfully between his teeth.
“What can I say, you’ve rubbed off on me.”
“Oh, I’ve done a lot more than that.”
“Hwang Hyunjin!”
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starsofang · 8 months ago
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Finish Line
Street Racer!AU / Part 1
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
Summary: Returning to the racing world in a new city proves to be futile when one of the racers has it out for you. He's determined to take you down, and you're determined to win.
TW: will be added for future parts, reader has a biker name but does not have a referenced name otherwise
A/N: if you’ve seen blade runner or cyberpunk, those were the vibes i’m going for. but basically all street racer!141 are in this, pray for me <3
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The radiant glow of luminescent neons flooded your vision as you lifted yourself off of the bike you’d ridden into town, casting arrays of purples and blue along the span of your skin, reflecting blinding shimmers off of the glossy shine of your bike.
The city was boisterous around you. The streets filled with a variety of people covered in racing gear or alternative twists in their style. All sorts of glitzy colors adorning their bodies, mirroring the image of the neon city and blending them in. Crazy was the best word to describe it. Hectic, maddening hysteria that littered the city like a plague.
You stood in the midst of it all, taking in the booming voices that carried through the air of excited participants in the race that was soon to begin. It was a frenzy even being in the city, and you found yourself sticking to the side of your bike and opting to watch instead of join. After all, you knew nobody, and this was your first race – at least, your first one in a long time, and in a new city on top of that.
You’d never been in a place so lively before, and perhaps that was the appeal to it all. People were excited. They treated street racing like a sport rather than the crime it was. Illegal, unhinged, dangerous.
It was the most life-threatening sport one could get into, and you were one of those unfortunate souls who had a knack for speed.
“Takin’ it all in?” An unfamiliar voice geared its way towards you through the chaos, and when you looked over, you saw an older man with kind eyes and a heavy-set beard. Upon further inspection, you noticed his left leg was purely robotic, all metal and fancy tech, a neon outline tracing along the ridges and curves.
“It’s a lot,” you breathed in response, earning a hum of acknowledgement from the mystery man.
“Sure is,” he agreed, though his wide smile and twinkling eyes made it seem as if he preferred it that way. “You racin’ tonight, doll?”
You glanced over at your bike from beside you. Purple, matching the fluorescent city, and fast as hell when you knew how to control it. “I am. First race in a while. Are you?”
The man chuckled lowly, shaking his head. He tapped his knuckles against the cool metal of his leg, giving you a cheeky smile that poked through the fur on his face. “Can’t race with a leg like this. People might think I’m cheatin’.”
The tone of his voice was teasing, and it brought your own laugh out. “I wouldn’t say it’s cheating. Maybe just a bit of modification, is all.”
He laughed again, and the sound of it eased the original tension that consumed you from the sight of a new crowd in a new city. “I like the way you think, doll. I’m John. John Price.”
Your eyebrows raised at the name, and you stared at him with a look of surprise and awe. His hand was outstretched to shake yours, and when you shook off your initial shock, you reached out to grab it.
John Price. Even in other cities unlike this one, like your own, John Price was a name whispered amongst other racers. A true street racer, one that took win after win like it was easy. In his day and time, he was the best of the best, and if you knew he was in your race, it was promised fate that you would lose to him.
Nobody knew what happened to him after he disappeared from the racing crowd, but judging from the robotic leg, you could piece together the picture.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you greeted politely, your hands clasping together to give each other a firm shake before releasing. “Heard a lot about you.”
“Really?” he hummed in amusement, feigning humility. “Didn’t take it that others knew about me in other cities.”
“How’d you know I wasn’t from here?”
“Oh, I can tell, doll. You looked like a poor lamb walkin’ into a wolf’s den, comin’ here,” he teased, and you shifted on your feet in embarrassment. “No need to fret. I’ll introduce you to a couple of the other racers, get you more acquainted.”
You weren’t sure why he would bother to do so. This race was a competition, and getting to know the other racers you were about to go up against wasn’t exactly in your books for the night. He seemed to recognize the muted confusion, though, because he smiled and beckoned you with a hand to follow him.
“It’s good to know who you’re competin’ against,” he explained as you walked alongside him. Your bike handles were between both of your hands, steering it beside you, too uncertain of the new area to trust anybody to leave it be. “Good to learn their tricks so you can use it against them.”
“Why exactly are you telling me this?” you asked, and he chuckled.
“Haven’t had a new racer in a while. Not a promisin’ one, anyway. Forgive me, but I tend to get a bit excited when somebody new joins the races.”
That made sense, you suppose. He didn’t race anymore, so he thrived off of the thrill of every race. If he couldn’t join, he could certainly watch and observe. Price probably knew all of the ins and outs of every street racer without their knowledge.
You followed him down the bustling streets, passing by crowds of colorful people who were nearly bouncing off the walls in anticipation. The looks you got along the way had you uneasy, but most of them were more curious than cruel, taking in the sight of your bike and the flashy, purple protective gear you wore.
Finding yourself at a rundown looking building that was littered with a vivid glow, you entered what appeared to be a garage. It was filled with various other bikes, as well as an insane amount of toolboxes lining the walls with spare parts scattered carelessly.
Propping your bike up with its kickstand, you stood a bit straighter when Price called out to a group of men on the other side of the garage. One was working on a bike, while the other two were lounged lazily on a beat up couch, bickering with one another.
The sound of Price’s voice seemed to send them into immediate submission, and they stood, making their way over to you.
They were… certainly a mixed pack, weren’t they?
The first man you took notice of was decked out in a bright blue that glowed in curvy patterns along his gear. His hair was shaved into a messy mohawk that flopped languidly atop his head, and his smile was crooked and toothy, creasing his eyes into wrinkly crescents.
The second one had a warmth to him, despite the edginess of his gear. It was deep red and meshed well with the tan of his skin, and just like everything else in this city, provided a neon blaze that you swore would cause you to turn blind at some point.
The third one was incredibly off putting. Cold, stiff, and eyes that bore into you like a knife digging in your skin. It was laced over with poison, threatening to invade your veins and taint your bloodstream. His eyes were the only thing you could see, for the rest of his face was covered by a painted balaclava, the mouth of a skull covering his own. Dark and dangerous, a racer you grew wary of when the time came for competing.
“This here is Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. They won’t bite,” Price assured. You highly doubted that.
You gave them a polite nod of your head, and Soap clasped a hand on your shoulder, beaming at you. His smile was nearly as blinding as the rest of the city, and you wondered briefly if it hurt.
“New comer, eh? Ever raced before?” he asked in enthusiastic curiosity.
“Yeah,” you replied, and Gaz released a low whistle. When you shifted your eyes to him, he was looking at your bike.
“Looks like you have a new competitor, Ghost,” Gaz teased. Ghost didn’t seem amused by it, his eyes continuing to stare you down in silent disapproval.
“Unlikely,” he rumbled dryly.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. Ghost was already giving you the information to know you needed to steer clear of him, both on the streets and off. He was competitive, and you could practically see it burning through his irises, like a raging fire that you had no way of putting out.
It was unfortunate that you were also just as competitive. You had your reasons for returning to racing, and you’d be damned if a man like Ghost attempted to sway you off track.
“Guess we’ll have to see, Ghost,” you chirped. His eyes narrowed in warning, pupils near black from the way he was scoping you out and silently pulling you apart in the clouds of his mind. Price snorted at the tension, but made no attempt to stop it. After all, he liked friendly fire – though, this wasn’t exactly as friendly as it was fire.
“Right,” Ghost grunted, cocking his head at you. His posture was menacing, and you would be smart to ease off the high horse, but you didn’t falter. “Don’t exactly think I caught your name.”
“Maze,” you offered.
Of course, everybody in the racing world only ever went by their biker name. Everybody’s had meaning, a reasoning for being called that. Maze was a name that was pinned to you without so much as a say, based on how effortlessly you could maneuver your way through tangled webs of roads and corners in the midst of chaotic races.
Ghost was a name unheard of, and surely, there was a baleful reason for it.
“Maze,” Ghost repeated with a tongue full of smoking venom. “I guess we’ll see, then.”
It was a threat if you ever knew one, and from the way the others remained perfectly unphased by it, a normal one at best. This was who he was, his true colors, dark and gloomy in comparison to the bright vivids that painted over the city.
Before you could say much else, a blaring sound filled the air, sharp and deafening. It was a shrill in your ears, lacing your eardrums with discomfort
Price’s hand clapped on your back and he gave you a promising grin.
“Best to ready yourself up, doll. I’m excited to see you work your magic.”
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You hauled your bike back out on the crowded streets, where electrifying voices shocked through the air like a vice. It was overwhelming, but nothing you weren’t used to. Races were the heat of most cities, and many people partook in the frenzy of events with dripping exhilaration, gathering together in a heap of hectic mess to place their bets on who would come out as the victor.
Tugging your helmet over your head didn’t do much to quiet down the noise, but it allowed you a blanket of dull security, giving you a chance to breathe. You prepared yourself by lining your bike with the others, and when you really studied your surroundings, there were dozens. Each and every bike was crafted with their own unique design and theme, and the drivers occupying them were just as otherworldly. You felt almost like an ant in a big world of antsy animals.
Your gloved hands gripped the handles of your bike, tight and tense, and you sucked in a long breath before releasing it, allowing your shoulders to relax.
Looking around, you noticed Soap was perched next to you on his own bike. When he took notice of you, he propped up his visor to show off his eyes, and from the way they crinkled, you could only assume he was grinning at you. His hand lifted, propping up his thumb in a weak attempt to wish you good luck.
You gave one back to be a good sport, but you knew once the alarms went off and flags were raised, this would be a warzone. There was no friendly competition, only bloodshed and battle.
Ghost’s bike was settled somewhere in front of you by a couple of lanes, and you took a moment to read his body language.
He was just as stiff as before, his shoulders pulled taut and his hands gripping the handles so tight, you were sure his knuckles were white beneath his gloves. His bike was as black as his attitude, nearly disappearing in the night if not for the bright lights reflecting off of them, and his gear matched perfectly with it. The helmet he wore mirrored the design of his balaclava you saw him in, with delicate, white swirls painted on to the mouth of the plastic and etching up to the top.
When you looked at him, he was already looking at you. Even under his visor, you could feel the intensity of his stare, like a looming shadow threatening to pull you by the ankle and yank you into a world of suffocating darkness.
You stared back until he turned away, noticing the small head shake he did to himself, but not minding it.
Competition. This was a competition. May the best racer win.
The wait for the call was dreadful. It racked your bones with unnerving anticipation, edging you towards the fall of a cliff, threatening to push you over. It was a game, body rigid in impatience, but when the sound of a gunshot fired through the air, it all melted away, replaced with premeditated determination.
Instantly, the sounds of revving bikes and screeching tires filtered through your helmet and bled into your ears. Your own joined in the mix, hand quick to accelerate your bike in motion, surging you forward. It was a rush of adrenaline, like a drug shooting through your bloodstream, and it willed you into a state of starved aggression.
All thoughts that had plagued your mind were brushed aside and replaced with nothing but the thought of winning. The prize money was a wealthy sum, and that alone was enough to have you weaving in between the other racers, leaning your body forward for some extra leverage.
Buildings passed by you like a quick blink, the various colors whipping by like a flash. Your vision was filled with the backs of other racers ahead of you, as well as the neon signs that littered every street corner, holograms of food and pretty women from the diversity in night business becoming your most perceived line of sight.
The other bikers were brutal. It showed in the way they tried cutting you off with a sharp flick of their bike when they noticed you trailing behind them, your front wheel nearly kissing their back wheel. It was an aggressive fight for dominance, and for a brief moment, you feared you were biting off more than you could chew.
This was an entirely new city, one you weren’t accustomed to, and these were new riders. You didn’t know the streets like you did back at home, nor did you know the layout for shortcuts. You didn’t know how to adjust to the neon oasis that filled your sight with blinding lights.
The only thing you knew how to do was fight back. And fight back you would.
When you saw the opportunity to speed past the racer in front of you, a man in an all orange suit, you took it. There was a gap so small you were crazy to try and fit through it, but you curled your hand around the bike handle, revving forward and sliding past him so he was on your tail.
You hoped that if Price was watching somewhere, he was somewhat impressed.
The twists and turns of the streets were difficult to maneuver, but not impossible. It was definitely a fight to control your bike on the sharp corners that required lots of tilting of your own body weight, but once you made it past the first couple, it proved to be much smoother than you thought.
The more the race went on, the more your muscle memory of riding came back to you, and it was a thrilling fun rather than a daunting spiral. It coursed through your veins like a fever, and the adrenaline pumped through you in earnest, causing you to feel alive.
The back and forth of you weaving in and out of open vessels caused you to end up in second place, and the only racer ahead of you was none other than Ghost. Now, other riders, you were confident in defeating, but Ghost was a lovely challenge.
He had a couple of yards on you, and the way he controlled his bike was a near work of art. He was positively beautiful at it, and now you were starting to understand his biker name.
Ghost, because he could disappear in the shadows of the night, never to be seen again. Nobody could catch up to him, because he was a spirit in the night riding on a cloud of shadows and devilry.
Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew, because your hands revved up one more time, your upper body leaning impossibly forward on the curve of your bike, and you were determined. If nobody could catch up to him, then you wanted to be the first.
Swerving through impossibly small streets and side alleys, he was becoming more clear in your view. If you could get just a little closer, you’d be neck and neck. With the promise of a finish line approaching, you’d have to do it soon.
Bit by bit, your bike gained proximity. You were nearly right by his side, and the sheer power of it all had your heart thumping like bombs in your chest. He was there, right there, and your win was hanging by a thin string.
Ghost’s head whipped over to look at you when he heard the sounds of your engine, and whatever expression he wore under the helmet, you wished you could see it.
As if fueled by anger, he gripped his handles a bit tighter. The two of you waltzed in a dance of back and forth, fighting for the title of victor. The street was a straight shot now, and you could see the faint holographic sign that hung above the finish line, indicating the near end of the race. It glowed at you, taunted you, beckoned you towards it like a siren of the sea. It sang pretty songs to you, desperate to grab hold of you and claim it as theirs.
The two of you were tightly bound together the closer you got, so close you could practically feel the heat of carbon as it left his exhaust. It scorched you like a blazing fire, but it only proved to encourage you more.
You fought and fought for dominance. The crowds of people waiting at the finish line were as crazed as madmen, shouting and waving their arms, desperate to see who would win.
Just as the finish line became approachable, Ghost surged a few mere inches in front of you, as if waiting for the opportunity. It was a warzone when the race ended, and you slowed your bike to a stop. Taking off your helmet, you gasped for air that was stolen from you from the pure, intoxicating adrenaline, glancing up at the lit up scoreboard that glitched with a chromatic listing of all places that racers fell into.
You were second, Ghost was first.
You wanted to win, yes. But second place was as good as they came for the first race, and you were elated.
The sounds of people celebrating nearly tuned out the angry sound of boots stomping your way. You hadn’t even had a chance to get off your bike before a hand was grabbing hold of your shoulder, whipping you around to come face to face with Ghost. His balaclava remained, even under the confines of his helmet that was no longer there, and his eyes were bristling with those same flames from before that had shifted into a dangerous blaze.
“The fuck was that?” he spat, words stabbing into you like daggers.
“A competition,” you replied calmly, perhaps a bit too cockily. “Was it not?”
Ghost leered at you, shoulders dropping and rising with the heavy breaths he took. His hand was curled into a fist in the collar of your gear, keeping you in place. It tightened its hold, and he leaned closer to your face, glaring into you.
“You need to fuckin’ watch yourself, Maze.” He spoke your name like a sin, as if announcing the Devil himself. “Pull that shit again and you won’t live to see another race.”
He promptly let go of your collar, shoving you away in the process. You could do nothing but watch as he stormed off, out of sight and out of mind. Like a Ghost.
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desired-misery · 1 month ago
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The man is folded over himself in a heavy metal chair with a bag over his head and ropes around his ankles. Naked, bruised, not obviously breathing. Assumed to be unconscious— or dead— until Finn grabs the bag over his head and pulls it off—
The man launches up, headbutting Finn in the face, knocking them both to the floor. Finn yelps. Piers shouts, swinging his gun up again. Finn cries out in pain as the man breaks his nose with an elbow, wrestles for his gun—
Hawker, who is closer, puts the man in a headlock, hauling him off off Finn. Snarling, the man twists and bites into Hawker's arm. Piers catches wild blue eyes narrowed into slits as the man grunts and falls to the floor when Hawker kicks him off.
"Fucker!" Hawker roars, drawing his pistol— all their instincts are screaming that it's a BOW, Hawker has been bit—
The man knocks Hawker's knee out from the side, buckling his leg, and fights for control over the pistol.
"Stop!" Piers yells, poised to shoot but it's way too close, the ricochet might hit one of them even if he manages to not hit Hawker—
The man takes a blow to the stomach with hardly more than a grunt, swinging around behind Hawker, a knife in his control, and presses the point to Hawker's neck, above the arm wrapped over Hawker's throat—
"Nobody fucking move!" The man snarls. When everyone freezes, Piers can get a good look at him—
"Agent Kennedy?!" Piers says, stunned, lowering his rifle.
Kennedy bares bloody teeth, eyes flashing only briefly to Piers before the rest of Alpha returns, Chris in the lead—
"One more step and he's dead," Kennedy says—
"Leon?" Chris lowers his weapon on recognition, straightening up in shock. Hawker remains still, hands raised in surrender, eyes locked on his own knife over his throat.
Kennedy doesn't react, not until Chris pulls off his helmet.
"Leon, it's Chris. Chris Redfield with the BSAA," Chris says, and that is when Kennedy licks his bleeding lip and actually looks at Chris's face. Kennedy's eyebrows raise in surprise. His arm around Hawker's neck loosens.
"Chris? What the hell are you doing here?" Kennedy lets Hawker go, who immediately scrambles up, swearing, his hand clamped over the bloody patch on his forearm.
"Saving your sorry ass, looks like." Chris says with a smile. He offers Kennedy a hand up.
"I had it under control," Kennedy says, but he groans when Chris hauls him to his feet, and takes an unsteady, limping step...
@citrine-elephant Leon biting someone for you :)
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glow-worms-are-believers · 2 years ago
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Catwoman's new sidekick (dc x dp)
This is very loosely inspired by this prompt. Enjoy the blurb:)
Danny didn’t really like guns. Not the ecto-weapons his parents made, but the actual bullet-filled guns. He knew how to use them, as that was what his parents had based themselves off of to create their own ectoplasm-powered version of it, but he didn’t like them. So when he’d found one not only loaded, but with the safety off in his apartment’s garbage bin, he’d plan to take it and go throw it in the river to make sure nobody would get to use it. Danny wasn’t exactly shocked to see it, this was Gotham after all, but it was a bit of a nasty surprise to say the least. It wasn’t like it could really hurt him anymore, it seemed halfas had a sort of built-in instinct for going intangible (which had explained why the Nasty-Burger-explosion-that-never-happened hadn’t affected him despite being taken completely by surprise).
Not to mention he was already in a bad mood at the news that Vlad was in the city right now for some rich guy nonsense, which Danny was 100% sure meant the fruitloop was going to come by to bother him at some point in the next few days.
“Hello, Daniel,” came Vlad’s voice from behind him as if summoned.
“Get away from me, you creep,” Danny answered, not turning around. Instead, he started walking in the opposite direction.
“Is that anyway to talk to your unckie Vlad?” The man said with his smarmy tone. “And I came by such a long way to come see you.”
“You saw me, now you can leave.” Danny didn’t bother turning his head as Vlad caught up so they were walking side by side.
The billionaire tsked as he looked around. “It’s such a shame you live in such a poor neighbourhood. You know the offer to pay for your tuition is still open.”
“Not in a million years,” Danny answered dryly.
“You’re just as stubborn as my dear Madeleine used to be,” Vlad sighed and Danny felt the disgust twist his features into a grimace.
“Still being a creepy disgusting old loner, Vlad?” Danny snarked. “How many cats are you on, number 5?”
There was flash of anger in the older man’s eye before he smirked. “And how is dear Danielle these days, it’s been so long since she came by. I think she’ll be due for another meltdown soon.”
On impulse, Danny raised the gun, knowing full well the man would go intangible faster than any bullet and pointed it at Vlad. “Don’t you dare touch her.”
“Oh please, Daniel,” Vlad scoffed. “What are you going to do, shoot me?”
“Maybe,” Danny retorted.
“It wouldn’t change anything,” Vlad dismissed.
“Might make me feel better,” Danny said even as he lowered the gun a bit, knowing it wouldn’t do anything.
Vlad knew this just as well, and he sneered before turning his back to Danny and walking away with a parting shot. “I always get what I want, Daniel. Whether it’s through you or her.”
The gun that Danny had lowered slightly now came back up. He was so tempted to empty the stupid thing at Vlad, no matter if it would all pass through him. Before he could do anything though, a voice from above sounded.
“He’s not worth it, kid.”
Danny looked up to find the masked face of Catwoman peering down on him.
“He deserves worse than this,” Danny said, mind still on the temptation of shooting at Vlad’s intangible back. This was a deserted part of the city, it wasn’t like it would hurt anyone else.
“I promise there are better ways to make him pay,” Catwoman answered.
Danny scoffed bitterly. “Vlad’s so rich, he can pay off anyone and cover up any scandal I could think of.” And if money didn’t work, there was always straight-up overshadowing innocent bystanders.
The masked woman hesitated for a while before she called down determinately. “Look, get rid of the gun, and I promise I’ll help you make him pay.”
“Really?” Danny wasn’t too sure what that entailed but anything that would hinder Vlad was a go for him. “You promise?”
“I do,” she stated with conviction. “But you have to lose the gun.”
“Yeah, ok,” Danny said. He was going to do it anyways, but if she wanted it gone even faster, Danny wasn’t going to argue.
Selina watched as her new sidekick dropped off the gun into the river. It fell in with a splash that had something in her curling comfortably. Maybe Bruce was really rubbing off on her if she was picking up strays
But, Selina had a good feeling about this. Talking a kid out of murder had been how Batman had gotten his first Robin, after all.
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thefandomdirtymind · 1 year ago
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I would love to see a story where reader and sanji were dating until he left to go with the straw hat pirates and a year or two passes and they meet again but reader seems more interested in zoro and so we get some jealous sanji but reader still loves sanji and so they make up 🗣️🗣️
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A/N IMPORTANT:  First of all Thank you for your request anon, second i'm so sorry it take me so long ! Due to my job schedule I have only few time to write and my request list was kinda long. So thank you also for the wait. I have fun with the drama and jealousy in this one as well at throwing some Zoro and Sanji Fan Service. I hope you will like it !
You left me
OPLA - Sanji
Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon
* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.
-----
The morning air, that day, was fresh and crisp.The perfect day for sailing. As you were watching by the second floor window, you saw Sanji, a foot on the boarding plank, looking behind, clearly searching for something or someone in the small crowd of the Baratie employer. But he will not find you there, he made a choice and you did yours.
“...You said yesterday that you were not leaving…that Zeff needed you, that it was where we are...” You said, watching him throw his clothes in his travel bag. 
“Well the old man seems to say he doesn't want me here anymore he wants me to go” Sanji harshly replied, the argument with his mentor still burning.
“And what’s that mean for me…for us” You enquire, afraid to already know the answer. 
“ Come with me, think of all the things we will see and live together!” He simply replied, small hope coloring his voice. 
“Becoming a pirate? I can’t Sanji…My parents need that money to take back the bakery, I need that money “ You protest, guilt, anxiety and sadness starting twisting your guts. 
“ Y/N we are talking about finding the All Blue!” Sanji replied, putting the last items in his bags.  
“ Yes, your dream is important, but us, our future, were all you told me were empty promises? “ You asked, seeing that said future of running the Baratie side by side, getting old together and love each others more and more crumble before your eyes. 
“ No but Zeff is right, staying here will not help me find the All Blue…” The tall blond says, defeat, seeing himself the realization of the inevitable situation rolling up in front of his eyes. 
“Then leave” You whispered, shock slowly flooding your system. 
“Y/N” He pleaded, trying sadly to reach for you. 
“ Leave !  “You suddenly shout, taking him by surprise. 
It was still only after he had closed the door behind him that you let yourself fall on your knees, crying, as your broken heart seemed to be aspired to by an black hole.  
You knew that things could have been taken differently, should have taken at least a more compromise turn. But everything had been so sudden and you had become so quickly frustrated that he didn’t understand the situation he was putting you in, that you didn’t want to try to be rational, he had chosen adventure and a mystical part of the ocean full of fishes, you had chosen your family. Still, as you watched him disappear in that ship, you couldn’t stop the burning tears from running down your cheeks. 
Two years later 
Sanji almost wished he had stayed on the ship. The atmosphere in the tavern was too loud for his current mood, the drink either not cold enough to be enjoyable or badly mixed and the food was so blank he had to fight the urge to enter the kitchen and throw the faulty chef out. But, Luffy had insisted on going out with everyone and nobody could resist their idiot but joyful captain.
That part of the year was always kinda bittersweet for him. Even with all the happy or more hard events that had followed his departure from the famous floating restaurant. The best cook of the east blue couldn’t help himself from missing his old man, keeping as a reminder, a small jar of oregano at his eye level in his kitchen. But it was you that he was missing the most, your tender eyes on him as he was talking about a new recipe, your humor finding a way to make him laugh or smile, your lips soft under his, your body warm and fitting perfectly between his arms. 
The guilt of your last conversation had frequently haunt him, during those years, your eyes full of tears, a recurrent memory of how badly he had handled the delicate situation. With time, the culpability had little by little given him some rest as the realization that it had been indeed one of those impossible cases nobody could have gone out without dommage. Yet, you were still a souvenir tormenting his heart he didn’t feel the need to share with his crew members. 
“ Nami, how far are we from the next group of islands?” Zoro asked, coming back from the bar, new bottles of alcohol in his hands. 
“ Few days, maybe a week, why ?” The navigator answered, trying to see behind the tall form of the swordsman. 
“ I would ask for a temporary place on your ship if it’s possible” A feminine voice answered, making Sanji lift his head and knock down his glass, spilling the mediocre liquor across the table,surprising everyone. 
If the tall blond was honest with himself, he would admit that for the most part of the first year, he had searched for you in every crowd he had crossed, stupidly hoping that you had a change of heart and had finally decided to go with him. But everytime he had believed seeing you, he had ended up with some cruel deception.
However, this time, he couldn’t make a mistake.Standing at the side of Zoro, in an elegant but simple dress he never saw, your hair pinned in a way Zeff would never admit in the kitchen, you were absolutely stunning and real. As real as your surprise but shock, gaze on him. 
“ I found her talking to the barman about a way to travel to the next water, I thought of catching her before Luffy somehow tried to recruit her.” The green haired man said, letting you sit before taking himself a seat.  
“ Y/N.. ? “ Sanji asked, himself shocked to see you in front of him, so far from the restaurant.
“ Do you already know each other ? “ Usopp asked, his eyes traveling between you and the cook, clearly reading with Nami a tension the others didn’t already catch. 
“ Hello Sanji. Yes, we had worked together at the Baratie under Zeff command “ You replied, trying to avoid his hypnotizing blue eyes, cursing the universe for reuniting you. 
“ What, what are you doing here ? “ Sanji asked, cleaning the table with a rag a waitress had brought. 
Looking at the straw hat crew, somehow embarrassed to be so suddenly the center of attention, you adjust your dress, preparing yourself ,like if you doing a difficult task, to answer Sanji, trying to raise as far as you can the barrier around your heart. 
“ Well, my parents died so I had to get back home for the funeral yesterday. “ You replied. 
A vague sympathy and condolences enveloped you as you tried to not again be submerged by the emotions of the devastating event. You casually start to play with the discarded paper of a straw. 
“So you will take back the bakery “ The blond asked, wondering why you weren't already there instead of trying to buy yourself a passage for some island. 
“ I sadly have nothing to take back, the bakery was the cause of my parents death. A fire had caught in the middle of the night, they didn’t wake up in time. The neighbors tried to help but it was too late. “ You confess, taking a deep breath as the hand of Sanji advances to press your hand in sign of reconfort. 
But, it was the hand of the swordsman giving you one of his beers who reached you first, before tapping uncomfortably your shoulder in an essay of recomfort. As you gave a look to Sanji, his hand still half-way, you realize that you never saw  what seemed like blue flame in his eyes before.
Offering a thank you smile to the clearly well-intentioned but more reserved man, noticing for the second time of the night that he too, has some really fine features. You face every member of the crew. 
“ I can pay for my transport, name me the amount of Berries and it’s yours. So, will you accept me on board ? “ You asked as Luffy exploded in an exclamation of joy despite his already mouth full of food and Nami’s smile enlarge at the mention of Berries.
His hands gripping the rope, showing the strong muscles of his forearms while sweat was sticking on his naked back and torso . Zoro was keeping at a comfortable height one of the heavy stabilizers, letting Usopp do his carpenter magic, while you were sitting with Nami, in one of the chairs in the upper deck, clearly enjoying the show. 
Well, at least of what Sanji could see. He was as well on the lower deck, trying to avoid the many discard tools while collecting fresh tangerine for one of his dessert idea, ideas who had recently start flowing again since your two path have cross again Yet, even if his hands could blindly and with ease found the perfectly ripe tangerine, his gaze alway seem to linger to you, drooling on that moron of a mosshead.
Like if it wasn’t enough of a torture for him to having you so close but at the same time so far, since you was barely talk to him except for the polite minimum. He had now to watch you fall for a pile of muscle with no brain, who already thought he was better in combat than him. No, he couldn’t tolerate it. For four days, he had already endured enough of your smiles toward him, or your genius question about his show off three swords and the sweet way you had answered his observation about your knife technique. For god sake, Sanji was the one who had shown you and helped you perfect that skill, he should have been the one complimenting you about it. His blood boiling in his veins at the thought, pulling too harshly a very ripe fruit, he felt it crush in his hand, staining his shirt with the sugary juices. 
“ Merde! “ The cook exclaimed, extending his arm to avoid spilling more of the citrus liquid on himself. * Shit
Abandoning the basket behind, his mind full of french curses addressed to the damn swordsman, who clearly wasn’t aware of the ultimate luck he has to have caught your attention, Sanji slammed the door of the kitchen behind him, letting go of the smashed fruit in a small bowl before discarding his now dirty shirt.
“ Oh…sorry you had forgotten your basket...I just wanted to...” You said, stopping in your tracks as your eyes fell on his shirtless frame.
It wasn’t the first time you saw the bare chest of Sanji. In fact, you had often joked that you knew his form so well that you could easily draw a map of his naked torso with your eyes closed. However, as you admired the sun highlighting new muscle lines on his shoulder and chest, you couldn’t deny that the life at sea had given him some benefit and had turned your previous mental map of him almost useless. Trying to keep your head cold and not ruin four days of hard effort in the salt water, you bite your lips and gently put the basket on the kitchen island. 
“ See you later “ You simply said, counting your breath, adding mentally some bricks to the crumbling fence around your heart. 
“ What’s the rush, it’s not like you didn’t already see me like that. Or the spectacle of Moss head outside is more memorable. “ Sanji bitterly said, holding his shirt in his fist, mouth half open in a sarcastic smirk.  
“ What are you talking about ? “ You asked, confused. 
“ I’m talking about you and Zoro. Look I get it, I left you behind to accomplish my dream to find the All Blue and you have all the right to resent me for it. But, that man didn’t deserve even half of the perfection that you are.” He said, frustration blooming in his chest. “ I see you for days now trying to flirt with him, look at him with your beautiful eyes like if he was your favorite pastry. I know him for two years mon coeur, and I swear it he isn't made for you “ 
“ And you are ? “ You asked, old anger slowly rising to the surface.
You knew, after two years, that the situation of your break up was meant to happen. But the pain of being abandoned by who you thought was the love of your life, was still an open wound you had hoped would close with time. 
“ You know that I am, but you still drool with Nami on that imbecile !” He exclaimed, throwing his shirt on the counter.
“ Drooling ?!…I was talking to Nami about our last relationship ! We were looking at you ! “ You shout. “ You have left me alone for the last two years in a restaurant haunted by our memories ! “ 
“ And I regret it everyday ! I was haunted too !  I saw you everywhere, smelled the ghost of your perfume on my skin, and heard you call my name every time I was trying to move on and talk to another girl. You were there without being there ! I missed you so much“ He replied, tears filling his eyes as your heart arches in front of his now vulnerable state. 
You had tried to keep your heart safe from him. But at the minute your feet step by themselves to meet him, you knew it was a lost cause. You were tired to fight your feelings, tired to pretend you could forget him.  
Taking his face in your hands, brushing off the few tears running down his cheeks. You lifted yourself on your toe, kissing him gently, the soft sensation of his lips against yours tried to bring you back in your memories. But, as you felt his arms close around you, holding you like if he would never let you go again, you decided that new choices have to be made, and this time, you both choose each other.
Bonus : 
Few weeks later
“ Sanji, I will go pick some tangerine outside,don’t be jealous, Zoro his training shirtless so I will try to not slip when I will drool “ You tease your boyfriend, laughing when he abandons his new recipe to try to catch you before you leave.
Easily pinning you against the door, kissing you breathless, his laugh caressing gently your lips, you smile against his mouth, letting your body take his place against him.
“ I love you “ He whispered, stealing another kiss. 
“ I love you too” You replied, more happy than ever. 
-----
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mothballmilkshake · 16 days ago
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Behind the Scenes Writing
This scene was never used, because I decided to start Stolen Moments with their dynamic already being established. The initial first ideas for the RadioApple series I had would have been a bit of a slower burn, but I decided 'slow burn but they're fucking the whole time' would be more fun.
In any case, this would have been set after they'd established a truce of sorts, a reluctant getting along.
“I might be out of my fucking mind,” Lucifer muttered, speaking as much to himself as to Alastor. Alastor raised a brow, glancing down at the man beside him, holding himself back from commenting on his lack of skill with a trowel through sheer force of will.
“I've long suspected as such, sire! What finally brought you to this conclusion?” he replied with a trace of mockery in his voice, canned laughter echoing in the air.
Lucifer's eyes flashed, glaring up at the taller man. It seemed like he was struggling with something, some internal battle that was rather amusing to watch play out on his face. Alastor tipped his head, his smile not moving an inch.
“For some god-forsaken reason – I want you,” Lucifer bit out, a record scratch betraying Alastor's surprise. Of all the things he'd expected the other man to say, it certainly hadn't been that. Lucifer ran a hand through his hair, smudging dirt into the blonde strands and knocking them loose as he gave out a little self-deprecating huff.
“Sorry if that's too blunt. I don't exactly have a lot of experience with the whole flirting thing – I was married to the same woman for ten thousand years, and I didn't know what I was doing at the start of that relationship, either. Look, you don't have to – to say anything, but it's been driving me mad, trying to keep it a secret. So now you know.”
Alastor blinked as Lucifer's voice trailed into a mutter, his eyes going back to the bulbs at his knees. He picked one up with slightly shaking claws, plunging it into the earth as the silence dragged on.
An egotistical sense of smugness welled in Alastor's chest. He'd been wanted before, of course he had, but to know that even the King of Hell had fallen for his charms? Why, it was enough to make a man preen.
Something else fluttered behind that ego, though. A heart-beat sounding a fraction too late, and before he could call the words back, they'd already left his mouth.
“So what do you plan to do about it?”
He wasn't sure why he'd said such a thing. He'd never entertained anyone else's desire for him – had in fact burnt a decades long friendship to the ground because of it. But there was something about Lucifer, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Nobody else seemed so capable of getting under his skin, of infuriating him so. Seeking out the king and pushing him to anger or irritation had become an underrated thrill in his day, a bright spark in an otherwise rather repetitive life.
Lucifer's gaze snapped back up to him, shock writ large in those yellow eyes.
“I – are you messing with me?” he asked, glancing around as if he thought Alastor had overcome his aversion to cameras just to pull a prank like this and film his reaction. Something twisted in Alastor's guts, an uncertainty he ignored.
“As hard as it may be for you to believe... no. I don't believe so.”
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whatheoncedid · 2 years ago
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“Hey can you smell this? Do I absolutely NEED to take a shower? You know I fucking hate showers. Water blasting you in the morning. Soap making you all fuckin itchy after… sniff it let me know.” I turned from the sink to see him standing their holding one foot up. “Pete. You’re disgusting. I can smell you from here you animal. You smell salty as fuck, how can you not know?” I said. I was fixing my hair trying to get it to cooperate. “Well that’s just like my regular smell! C’mon! Is it bad enough that I need to shower, because basically no one would even know once my shoes and clothes are on right?” He asked. He was still perched awkwardly. Since I had realized I was obsessed with him I had tried my best not to look at him. I moved in with a straight guy to avoid catching feelings. Now I was head over heels. Desperate for the feeling to pass. Now with him there in a towel, scent filling the room. I was about to scream or blast a load in my work pants. “Pete fuck OFF. You reek everyone talks shit about it, just not to your face— because well, most of you is muscle. Anyway, take a shower, don’t take a shower. It will surprise no one when you smell like a locker room full of cum socks. We ALL expect it, ok it’s a thing. Hear it from your gay friend cause no one else is telling you. Now get out! I gotta get ready for work and I don’t want your…musk, settling on me. OUT.” I said sharply. He slowly put his foot down. He stared at me. He lunged at me and pinned me into the wall. “What the FUCK is your problem?!” He growled. “Pete— I gotta go to work, and it’s early” I was in shock and fumbling for words. “Talk your shit but don’t you EVER be cold with me. ME. Dismissing me like I’m fucking nobody?! Lately you won’t even look me in my fucking eyes dude. Avoiding me. Treating me like a rando. So again what is your fucking problem?!” He was speaking in a voice I didn’t recognize. His expression was one I hadn’t seen. I was at a loss. “Peter—I’m, it’s just” my brain decided to quit. “You know what I think the problem is?” With a quick twist of his hand his towel dropped to the ground. “You fucking want me bro. You crushin on the man of the house? Tryna save face bruh?” His face slowly changed back to the handsome jokester I knew…and loved. “Jesus Christ. I hope you’re not playing a prank on me.” I whispered. He grabbed my hand and wrapped it around his hard on. “Does that feel like a prank to you?” He asked. He was warm, hard, and sticky from sweat. I felt my knees buckle. “Now… I seem to remember asking you to sniff some things? You ready? We’re gonna have some fuuuun bro!” He said lifting his arm. “Uhm—don’t call me bro. Gross.” I said snickering. “Ho-Ho-hooo really? You know you’re gonna pay for that right?” He mashed his sweaty pit in my face. My body went limp as I kept on jacking him. “Thaaaaaat’s it, let it get all over your face…and don’t worry, from now on I’ll call you bitch.”
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writingdevil · 4 months ago
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Spark-[Hermittober24 Day Three]
(Warning-Violence,death,being burnt alive- Prompt list created by @collierose1 )
Xisuma hummed,flying through the night sky,his obsidian dragon wings melting almost perfectly with the darkness of the night.
The dragon hybrid flew through the air gracefully, looking for the next best thing for his treasure.He needed more gold for his horde,and he refused to stop until he knew that it would make his treasure more extraordinary.
"Oh,there we are,"he said happily,spotting a nice little village in the distance,a warm glow lighting the area up,like a welcoming beacon for all-and it would be rude of Xisuma not to answer that call.
He twisted his body around,letting the moon shine down on his dark scales and horns,even through his helmet,as he quickly fell through the sky, hurdling further and further to the village.He even put his hands behind his head, humming a tune to himself,until he began to hear gasps of surprise and yells of shock from the residents of the village.
At the very last moment,Xisuma growled in excitement,spinning around so swiftly that he knew he looked like a dark blur,and he spread his wings out wide to catch himself,and he easily glided onto the ground.
Xisuma smiled at his own landing,satisfied,then gazed at the village around him.Unsuprisingly,he had garnered a crowd,but that was exactly why he made his entrance that way-to get everyone's attention.It would make things go a lot smoother for them.
People were either staring at him in fear or shock, probably having never seen a real dragon hybrid before,which was a shame.Xisuma would love to mingle with soft little humans more,but he was constantly busy.
But this was as good a chance as any,so he smiled brightly at them all,waving enthusiastically as he said,"Hello everyone!It's a beautiful night for a fly if I do say so myself."
There was a round of hushed whispering going through the crowd,and people were either clinging to each other's arms,or giving him wary looks. Well, no matter.You can't change who you were.
He wasted no time in asking,"Can I ask a favour of you all,actually?"He saw some people instantly reaching for the swords at their hips,or raising shields in front of them,but that just made him lightly chuckle,hoping that his helmet muffled the sound.
He was a dragon,one spark from him and he could burn half the world down.
But that wouldn't be very fun,so he didn't think about doing it too much.
"I've been searching far and wide for some pretty pieces for my treasure,and I was wondering if you kind people could help me out."
Nobody answered him,continuing to give him apprehensive looks.He sighed,then growled out, "Gold,if you please."
Xisuma chuckled in amusement as some people jumped and yelped in fright,and some were instantly patting themselves down for anything of value to give.Xisuma never really minded what it was they gave him,as long as it made his horde bigger,and more glorious.
The most people could give him were some golden armour,or any small pieces of jewellery that they were wearing.No matter-Xisuma was more than pleased with what he had received.He should remember the location of this village so that he could come back to it.
The next few minutes were filled with Xisuma stuffing his new possessions into his inventory,the urge to just fly off and place them with his treasure, getting stronger by the second.
But then-he spotted something just out of the corner of his vision,and his tail almost wagged at the sight of it.
It was a redstone block.
It shouldn't matter much to a dragon,but it meant a lot to a redstoner like Xisuma.He had used the last of his redstone supplies on a little project,and he knew that his treasure would love this addition.
"Excuse me,"he politely said,pointing over to the block "but can you also bring me that,please?"
"No!"
...What?
Xisuma felt heat travelling up his throat,as he slowly turned to face the foolish man who denied him what he deserved.
Spark.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me!No!"the man yelled in anger,body trembling in a way that Xisuma knew meant he was terrified."You've already intimidated us into giving you our gold,and that's all you'll get, you greedy lizard!"
Spark.
Xisuma could feel something igniting at the back of his throat,bubbling up until smoke began to drift out from the corners of his mouth,fogging up his helmet quickly,but he didn't care.He didn't care about these people.
"That block powers my entire house-"
"Oh really?Is that all then?"
Some people had backed away once the shouting began,but many had drawn courage from it,more weapons being pointed at him then before,but they were merely kindling for Xisuma.
He lifted the helmet from his face,just enough so that his mouth was exposed and the torrent of ashy smoke poured out of him,and he simply said,"Well,I can fix that."
Fire!
Xisuma barely had to take a deep breath in,before he roared at the house,sending a stream of blazing fire at it,and the puny little cottage caught fire instantly,and he reckoned that it wouldn't even take ten minutes before it was nothing but ash and cinder.
"GET HIM!"
"Oh,goodness."
Arrows,potions,and trident came flying at him,but Xisuma just hummed as he took off into the air and batted them all away,feeling lava under his veins,a need to feel the scorching heat on his scales-
-and all it took was a single spark of flames.
Xisuma cackled,as waves and waves of fire poured out of him,catching everything and everyone in its wake.There were screams in his ears,but Xisuma could only focus and appreciate the crackling of the flames.
He is a dragon.
He destroys anything that threatens his treasure.
His heart is a blazing inferno,and he doesn't give a damn about who gets caught in it.
*
Xisuma smiled as he flew closer to his cave,his home,and he spotted something with a red,scaly tail moving around.
"Guess who's back!"
Xisuma landed at the entrance of his cave,redstone block tucked under his shoulder,as a small boy with red wings and scales ran up,messy black hair amongst horns,and a joy in his golden eyes that Xisuma will never get tired of seeing.
"Daddy!"
"My little treasure!"
His son ran up to him,and Xisuma wasted no time in picking him up with one arm,bouncing him in the air and making him squeal in delight.
"I missed you,my little Mumbo Jumbo!"
"I missed you too Daddy!"
Xisuma's face hurt with how hard he was smiling, and he let Mumbo clumsily take his helmet off,so he could see the happiness in his son's face all the more clearly.
He gestured towards the redstone block and said, "Do you like the gift I got you?I think you'll be chuffed to bits."
Mumbo's face scrunched up in confusion,until he glanced down and saw the block,apparently having not noticed it before,then screamed in delight.
"Yay!More redstone!Thank you,thank you,thank you,Daddy!I love you!"
Xisuma smiled softly,and hugged his son close, because this was a treasure worth burning for.
"I love you too,my little treasure."
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gaybananabread · 1 year ago
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Hii! I hope I'm doing this right 😅
The amazing digital circus, Lee Jax! Ler ragatha!
Banana,oranges,lemons please!! :3
Absolutely fine if your not able to do it but just a request :D
(oh no I forgot something 😅😭 Can the most focused on spot be the ears please!! Super sorry!)
Fruit(s): Bananas, Oranges, Lemons
You’re all good, Anon! Jax is such an ass and I’m here for it (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠◡⁠`⁠). I’ve been pretty sick this week, so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes or quality issues (ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ). Fair warning, the bunny man is quite the prick in this because I like bickering. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!
Lee: Jax
Ler: Ragatha
Summary: Jax is being a total brat, sassing and picking on all the other characters. Ragatha has enough, giving him a lesson on manners he won’t soon forget.
Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
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The Amazing Digital Circus was…an interesting place, to say the least. If one could get over the fact that a likely-sentient AI entity ran a digital fairgrounds that nobody could ever escape from, their minds twisting and going down a deep spiral of paranoia and uncertainty until they lost their sanity, it was kinda cool. That first part was a pretty big hang-up for most, though.
Jax, however, had grown pretty used to the madness. He had his wit and sarcasm as a coping method. Why worry about your own misfortunes when you can laugh at someone else’s? The rabbit took every opportunity he could to quip, snicker and poke fun at his fellow characters. He got on everyone’s nerves. 
His antics really got to one being in particular: Ragatha. 
She felt as if she could tear his ears off some days. Jax would always bully the others, but he had been horrible that day. Pomni was still getting used to things; the poor thing didn’t need another reason to fret. His jokes were only putting everyone on edge, and that jester was already on a narrow ledge… It needed to stop.
“Wow Gangle, I didn’t know you could actually do something productive. Color me shocked.” Jax hovered over her, looking down at the ribbon being’s drawing. It was some sort of fan art, though he couldn’t name the media. It didn’t look that accurate, and he wasn’t that much of a nerd before he put the headset on… 
Before she could think to be shocked at the half-praise, he quickly put the dickery in his words. “Shame it’s too trashy to make out whatever you drew. This place is enough of an eye-sore as is.” 
The tears on Gangle’s mask rippled as she sniffed, trying not to let his mean words get to her. It didn’t really work; she’d put a lot of effort into that… She clutched the drawing to her chest as she ran away, her mouth line quivering. Jax just chuckled, not really caring that she ran off. It was just a joke. Not his fault she couldn’t take it.
Ragatha put her hands on her hips, marching over to Jax. He rolled his eyes, preparing for the lecture. “JAX! What is wrong with you?! Gangle worked really hard on that! You…you need to quit being such a jerky prick!”
The wide smirk stuck, though his eyes widened slightly. It was hardly a solid insult, though coming from such a typically passive-aggressive person, it was surprising. Didn’t know she had it in her…heh.
Jax’s snarky smirk returned, his eyes forming amused crescents. Hello, new source of entertainment… “Relax, dollface! Crybaby’s fine. Just havin’ another pity party.”
She scoffed, letting her typically suppressed temper show. “Seriously? You told her that those amazing drawings were trashy! Why are you such a bratty bully?” Her tone was as curious as it was disappointed. Eugh…
“I’m not a bully. I just say what I see; not my fault you babies can’t handle the truth.” Okay, maybe he was going a bit further than he normally did. He was bored, and the banter was actually amusing. As long as he danced on the right side of the line, he’d be fine. “Like you. I mean, I get this place knows our minds or something, but it really nailed you. Trashy scraps and frayed yarn.” 
This little…ugh! He was bringing out a side of Ragatha she didn’t know she still had. “Oh really? And what’s that make you, cotton tail? A bargain bin, carnival prize knock-off?”
Jax actually chuckled; finally, someone fun. “Nah, I’m just better. Taller, good-looking, not made of sewn together *boink*. I’d say it did me right.” He smirked, leaning in and getting to her level. “You found a nice 1830’s girl yet? They’re all about raggedy scraps.”
Oh, that was it! She glared, her upper lip curling as she reached for him. The lanky jerk leaned away just in time, taking off in the opposite direction. Okay, so it was possible to make her mad…totally worth it. 
Ragatha chased after him, going over revenge plans in her mind. She normally tried to avoid conflict, but Jax was out of control. Rabbit stew seemed delicious, even if it would only be a simulation… 
Jax tried to find literally any not-obvious spot to hide, but everything was ginormous and solid, a vengeful Ragatha on his heels. He just ran for his life. He might’ve made it, too, if he hadn’t tripped on something. “What the-” He went down, face-planting on the bouncy floor. Gloink…of course. He could’ve sworn it smirked at him, even though they had no mouths.
The doll was on him in seconds, quickly pinning him to the floor. For fabric and stuffing, she was pretty strong. Before he could think to fight back, his arms were pinned above his head, the girl straddling him and blocking his every escape. “W-woah doll! At least buy me dinner first!” That one was kinda stupid, but it was there.
The smoldering glare that comment received finally shut him up, if only for a moment. So many ideas, so little time… But she couldn’t do anything to hurt him. One, it wasn’t physically possible, and two, she was better than that. He still needed some kind of shove in the right direction… Ohohohooo, that’s perfect.
“I think you need to learn some hard lessons, Jax. Respect for your friends, and when to shut up.” The tone of her voice was surprisingly playful, even if it had a serious edge. He didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved. 
He wasn’t sure what she was up to. That is, until he felt one of her mitten-esque hands on his stomach, wiggling into the furry surface. Unable to bite his lip, giggles slipped past his defenses, greeting the smug doll. “W-whahat the *bloink* ahare you dohohoing?!” 
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m showing you what happens when you’re a snarky dork.” Ragatha smirked, keeping his hands pinned firmly above his head. “W-whehen dihid you gehehet strohohohong?!”
She tsked, trying not to take offense to that. “You need a filter, Jax. Apparently Caine’s isn’t enough. My way is a bit more…hands-on.” Ragatha went to town on his belly, digging her fabric fingers into his midsection. 
Squealing, twisting and turning, Jax tried anything to escape. He might’ve had the height advantage, but when it came to strength and endurance, he was surprisingly out-matched. Also, apparently very ticklish. Shocks across the board.
Jax kicked his feet, the pads thumping against the floor. She cooed, teasing him further. “Aww, guess you really do live up to your character, Thumper.”
The tickling wasn’t even the worst part, though it did come in a close second. It was the teases. He honestly didn’t think she had it in her, but *sproing* he was wrong. Ragatha squeezed his hip, making him jolt and squeal. “R-RAHAhagathaha!” Okay, make that a tie.
His laughter, to Ragatha, was honestly adorable. Who knew a jerk like him could be so ticklish, much less have a laugh like that. It was bright, bubbly and uncontrollable. Hearing her friends laugh, no matter how rude, was something special. She could listen to it all day, though she didn’t quite plan on going that far. 
While the silliness wasn’t hurting him, his pride was being battered to bits. No matter how much he wriggled and writhed under her, he couldn’t manage to break her hold or knock her off. Beyond that, she just had to keep exploring his spots. “Youhuhu lihittle- GYAAAHAHA! NAHAT THEHEHERE!” Like that one.
Ragatha's eyes widened as she rubbed the base of his ear, not expecting the spot to incite such a reaction. She wasn’t complaining, though. “Geez, Jax. These floppy ears are so sensitive! I have got to tell the others.” The doll switched between each ear, making sure neither felt left out. They twitched and flopped, but couldn’t avoid her skilled hand. 
Even though he was the most prideful of all the characters, her tickling was really pushing his limits; he just couldn’t take any more. Abandoning his ego for a moment, he cried out. “O-OHOHOKAHAY! IHI’M SOHAHAHARRY! P-PLEHEHEASE NO MOHOHORE!” 
She took that as her cue to quit, releasing his arms and climbing off him. The rabbit man immediately curled into himself, giggling like a toddler. She did notice, however, that he was still wiggling slightly, his closed eyes moving as if he had a twitching nose. He was clearly happy, though she bet he’d never admit it out loud.
“Y-youhuhu…youhu’re dehehead!” The threat would’ve been a lot more menacing if he didn’t look and sound like he’d had the time of his life. “Uh-huh, sure. Just try to be nicer, okay Giggles?” Ragatha pat his head, walking away and going to find Gangle. Knowing her, she would need similar treatment, though for very different reasons. 
Jax took deep and giggly breaths as he tried to calm himself. That was…wow. He didn’t even think stimulation like that was possible in the Circus. Then again, Caine did say the only thing he couldn’t control were their minds. How his mind felt right then…he’d rather not talk about it. Her plan had worked; he’d definitely be thinking about that encounter for a while. Maybe not for the intended reasons, though…
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shitideas · 1 year ago
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the beginning | stu macher x reader
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summary: alternate version to the end 😉
warnings: murder, gore, knives and guns, swearing, blood, think that’s it? she/her pronouns used for reader.
he was seeing red. everything was suddenly quiet.
he pulled his knife out of chad meeks’ heart, his body dropping right next to his already dead sister. poetic.
the man turned to face his remaining three victims, but they weren’t there. he rolled his eyes to himself, knowing he’d be bleeding two of them dry in the next few minutes.
but then he heard blood curdling screams.
he ran in the direction of them, and found the most confusing scene he’d seen so far. a person dressed in the same black robe as him was standing over tara carpenter’s body, a knife in their hand. with their other hand, they were pointing a gun at samantha carpenter and sidney prescott.
so this is the mysterious ghostface that had been killing beside him. pathetic. he’d kill them too in a few minutes.
he pulled his gun out and shot the intruder in the shoulder, forcing a loud groan out of them. they looked at him with an annoyed look he couldn’t see.
“i mean really, the first thing you do after all these years is shoot me? thanks a lot, stu.”
he froze when they spoke. he knew that voice. it was the same voice that had been haunting his dreams for years. the same voice that let out cries of disappointment and terror on the unfaithful night in 1996. the same that’d scold him whenever he did something innocently stupid, and praise him because she loved him more than anything.
“what the hell..”,he trembled as he spoke. for the past 30 years, he thought she was dead. and he thought it was his fault. he never stopped blaming himself, and he always wished that she was alive.
“surprise, stu.”,her gloved hand reached up to the ghostly mask on her face, dropping it to the floor. y/n loomis’ face was revealed with a sly smile on her lips.
he was in so much shock he couldn’t speak. he just stared at her. he wanted to cry but dismissed it, not wanting to seem soft in front of her. after all, he’s not 17 years old anymore. he can’t be so sensitive.
sidney’s face twisted in puzzlement as she took in the woman in front of her. the same woman who’s name was never said during the news announcing the deaths on the night of 1996. nobody knew where she was, but they all assumed she was dead. i mean after all, her brother did injure her pretty badly. sidney had always thought that she had just bled out and died.
in reality, billy loomis never intended for his sister to die. but he couldn’t have her being the only person without any injuries. and when he stabbed her and stared into her eyes, he looked at her in a way that said you’re going to be okay.
and she was okay. physically at least.
what billy didn’t know was that his sister would go on and become exactly like him.
as soon as stu got back to reality, he ran over to y/n and clutched onto her shoulder, apologising for what he’d just done.
“how the hell are you alive…”, he whispered, holding onto her as if she would disappear if he let go. his heartbeat quickened as her face inched closer to his. she kissed him with so much desperation, he could feel how much she’d been longing to touch him again. his brows furrowed as he kissed her back. their lips moved in sync and passion, the same way they did when they were teenagers. they pulled away, uncomfortable with sam’s and sidney’s staring, and awkwardly look at the two women.
“the hell are you two looking at?!”, stu’s raspy voice spoke.
sidney quickly turned and looked to the ground, but sam kept staring.
“you just murdered my sister and you have the nerve to make out over her dead body?!”
y/n laughed silently.
“since you’re being such a brat, i guess it’s time we get this shit show over with.”, and with one quick motion she shot at sidney’s stomach, sending three bullets into her. she screamed as the pain pierced through her whole body, falling to the ground. y/n walked over to her and lowered herself so she could look into the woman’s eyes.
“after all these years, billy loomis’ sister comes back to finish what her brother started. wouldn’t that be a fun news title? oh sid, you and i and stu are gonna be everywhere.“
sidney’s eyes were teary as she spoke, “you’ll never get away with this.”
“yeah, yeah that’s what you say to everyone.”, she muttered before piercing her knife directly into sidney’s heart.
she gasped in pain and looked into y/n’s darkened eyes. she used to be such a sweet girl. her brother had ruined her.
“say hi to billy for me, yeah?”, she whispered with a smile.
“f-uck you..”
and she was gone.
it was done.
the last thing y/n and stu heard were sam’s screams and cries before stu knocked her out with his fist. i mean, they couldn’t have his daughter dying here.
they held hands as they walked towards a back door, proud of themselves for ending everything. every single person who was involved with this was dead. except sam of course.
y/n twirled her brother’s old knife between her fingers, thinking to herself. i hope you’re proud of me, billy.
7 days later
the news were still full of crime scenes and mysteries. sam had woken up in the hospital with amnesia. she couldn’t remember anything about the night. it wasn’t what stu and y/n were going for, but it was definitely convenient.
they’d never be able to catch them. they were still dead, right?
they laid together in bed in an old cabin in some unknown woods. they were close to a city. close enough to be able to buy groceries, but far enough so that nobody would bother them.
stu’s arms were wrapped around her waist, her head pressed to his chest. she listened to his heartbeat, grateful to have him in her arms again. he kissed the top of her head, brushing one of his hands through her hair.
he wondered how he managed to pull all of this off. he completed a huge murder spree, and his soulmate had returned to him. in his eyes, he was the luckiest motherfucker in the world.
and she felt fulfilled. the one person she loved the most in this world was her’s again. and she couldn’t ask for anything more than that. she would do anything for him.
they fell asleep in each other’s arms, their bodies warm against each other. their hearts were full and their minds were clear for the first time in thirty years.
this was their new beggining.
//notes//
i hope you guys like this different ending, it’s not that good but i think it’s okay 😚🪼
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goldhunt · 2 months ago
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( STAB ) standing against to mine, still with your (sender) weapon (example: dagger, sword) in mine's body. ( eheheh )
THIS SHADED LAND SEEMS NEVERENDING. sometimes he feels as if he were one of them. the groaning shades that stick to shattered places, or follow pilgrimages he cannot understand. at first he had thought they might have come here in the same manner as he. washed up in a coffin, remnants of a life that could not return to the erdtree. he has learned, since, in whispers and echoes, that they are something else entirely. that a crusade of flame swept these lands in the holy name of his revered queen, and the embers are still burning. he stepped in one once, melting his shoe, singing his flesh.
his faith is upended, strung up with the corpses that hang by the wayside, so long dead nobody remembers their names. darian, hunter of the dead, stumbles his way through the nightmare, one half of a whole, severed. the blight lives on in him. it isn't enough that it banished his soul from golden, promised rebirth, no. it writhes within him, thorns pressing forth, his mind addled. the gold and silver is lost. he wears now pieces of armour pieced together from soldiers and wanderers alike. by now, he's grown used to the sword he found. how it's slightly longer and thinner than his old one, balancing differently in his hand. his face is bare to the winds. and they see it. darian did not live for so long under the golden order to forget the recognition in even undead eyes. you are but a fraction of a whole, a shattered piece that should not be. marika's name, here, is a curse. and in the absence of her golden light, he too is cursed again.
so he stumbles, then wanders, watching, searching. for a way out, but also ... if the tides of death brought him here, would not rogier, too, have washed up?
he finds a familiar face, but not the one expected.
vyke looks different. he has never been so golden before, not even in the days where they both were under one faith, before the betrayal. he is almost radiant. had he not spoken his name, darian would never have known it to be him, clad in white and gold, familiar and yet changed. a new crest upon him, a new faith, again. not frenzied, as people whispered. alive and sane and here to touch—
it tears open an old wound barely healed. raw skin bare to the putrid, ever-burning air. in the erdtree's shadow, they meet again, and clash.
❛ you left, ❜ gasps he who was once golden, now ashen with blight and uncertainty. the hurt gushes forth, spilling into the icy pale of his eyes, into the motion that pushes him toward the other man, gripping his armour. he can't decide whether to yank him close or push him away. to kiss or to kill—he can do neither. how fell a beast love makes out of grief. ❛ without a word. as if ... as if i—we ... meant nothing at all ... ❜ they wrestle but he barely feels it. too focused on vyke right in front of him. death roars within him, his own nightmare now sharing his anger. it happens too quickly. everything too fast, a blur of angry tears and relief and ...
it feels, at first, like a punch. the blade lodged in his abdomen is hard and cold, not at all the searing agony of the thorned branches twisting their way through his flesh. it is almost merciful. when he loses his breath, everything stops.
❛ vyke— ❜
darian keeps a white-knuckled grip on the knight, a fist in his cloak, while the other hand holds his own sword limply. he still bleeds red. even in his deathless state, his blood is warm and crimson, soaking the dirty cloth and staining worn metal. he glances down between them, at the blade piercing him, connecting them. an old lover's kiss is cold. his blood spills over vyke's hand. for a moment, they are one.
surprise widens his eyes when he raises them again, seeing vyke's behind the helm clearly for the first time again. pale lashes blink slowly in shock. tongue tastes iron, the smell of his own blood. the blade holds him up. as if pinned to thin air, numb and breathless, darian doesn't even sway. ❛ vyke ... ❜ he repeats, barely a whisper. shall it be this, then? a final betrayal?
❛ what has become of you? ❜
TENSION / @lrdvyke
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blueraineshadows · 2 years ago
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How about one where Sebastian was sent to Azkaban in 5th year, and F!MC is absolutely crushed because she was in love with him. In this scenario lets say Ominis got to Professor Black fast enough that he witnessed the murder and turned him in.
With how bad women’s rights were during that time, not being allowed to own homes and such, she has no choice but to marry another man after graduation. She doesn’t love him. She’s miserable, not over Sebastian, and her husband is very controlling and recently abusive.
Sebastian escapes Azkaban and immediately tracks her down. He peeks through the window before knocking and is surprised to see she has a husband. Sebastian and MC were together when he was sent to Azkaban and although he knows he should be happy for her since she was able to move on, he can’t help but feel hurt, jealous, and betrayed.
To his shock, MC and her husband suddenly start arguing about him. Maybe her husband is mad she’s always depressed about Sebastian and not being a “good wife” to him, never wanting to be intimate, while guilt tripping her for “all he does for her”. Sebastian eavesdrops from outside until it turns physical and he bursts in to save her.
I hope you like this idea, tysm!
There have been a lot of requests for ex prisoner Seb lately....
Thanks for sending it in! 💜
Sebastian Sallow x F!MC
Trigger Warnings: domestic abuse 🔞
The door creaked open a little and MC slipped outside, closing it carefully behind her. She didn't want to wake her husband who was asleep on the sofa. Eddie had come home late last night, whiskey on his breath. His hands had wandered, his eyes pleading for her to respond, but she couldn't. She had rejected him, again. As much as she hated to see the misery in his eyes, she had felt relief when he backed off.
She shivered. She didnt hate him, but she didnt love him either. He knew she didn't, knew she still had feelings for her childhood sweetheart. She wished she hadn't written it all down in her diary. When Eddie had found it, his rage had been explosive, shocking. She had never seen him thst way before. His jealousy was outrageously feral. That was the first time he had laid a hand on her with the intention to hurt. His slap a shock and a humiliation.
Of course, he had apologised profusely, promised to never do it again, and he hadn't. But a line had been crossed. Despite all that he did for her, she had withdrawn from him even more. Her marriage to him one of convenience, a means to survive in a world ruled by men. It was a lonely existence.
MC hurried across the grass away from the house, her boots loose and undone still in her efforts to be swift. Her time alone was precious and she didnt want to waste a moment. She glanced back once before disappearing into the shadows of the trees.
A little way in under the canopy of the forest, MC paused and took a long, deep breath. Who would have thought that the Forbidden Forest would become a sanctuary of sorts? It was where she snuck off to when she needed to get away from Eddie, from his pleas, his attempts to break through her barriers. It was exhausting.
She picked some herbs and potion ingredients, her excuse for being out here, and stowed them away, before moving along a trail. There had been a unicorn up here the other day, and she was curious to see if it had returned.
An old brick ruin loomed out of the darkness of the forest, a site she had explored long ago. She smiled wistfully at her memories, the adventures and scrapes she had found herself in. Her heart twisted painfully at the loss. She would give anything to have those days back, even with all the danger and trouble.
As she passed the ruin she heard movement inside. She paused, a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. It wasn't unheard of to still see the occasional poacher, or worse, in the forest. She slipped out her wand, poised and ready as she crept closer to the crumbling wall.
When she peered through a gap she frowned. There was nobody in sight, but in the corner was a makeshift bed roll and the evidence of a recent camp fire. After a quick peek around, she could find nothing else, so she headed off back along the trail with a sigh. She knew she had to get back to Eddie.
....*....
She was as pretty as he remembered and it made his heart ache. Sebastian remained behind the tree, peering out from behind it. As much as he desperately wanted to go to her, he held back. He needed to think. Of all people to come walking along this trail, he had not expected it to be her. It meant he was close, close to where she must live.
He waited a moment, her footsteps fading, and then he slipped out to follow.
She was his first love, his only love. To be snatched away and thrown into Azkaban was a cruel twist of fate. Murder was regrettable, of course, but losing MC had caused him more pain than anything else. His face darkened as he thought of Professor Black, forever his sworn enemy, the reason for his incarceration. He would never forgive.
As he followed MC through the forest, he studied her, the way her hair fell in waves down her back, the gentle sway of her hips under her skirt. The soft scent of her trailed in her wake, and it made him ache for her, his loneliness sharp and cruel. It had been a long time since he had held someone close.
He savoured the memory of her soft lips, the gentle kisses she offered to him when they had been young and foolish. They had just been starting to know one another, exploring the mysteries of a first love, and then it had been stolen away.
The memory of her had kept him going, kept him alive. Now that he had seen her, he wanted more. He wanted to speak to her, hear her voice, see her smile. He had missed her so much.
Sebastian followed her to a small house on the outskirts of the forest. He hung back under the gloom of the trees as she crossed the grass and slipped inside the house, her little boots kicked off and left on the stone step near the door.
Did she live there alone? He frowned, curious, and settled back to watch the house for a while. He needed to see how things lay, uncertainty clawing at him. He was still getting used to being outside of prison walls.
....*....
As the hours slipped by, Sebastian settled down against the tree and dozed off. When he awoke, it was much later in the day, the daylight softening into sunset.
He looked at the house. Smoke was rising from the chimney, but there didn't appear to be any sound. Feeling a little braver, he moved closer for a better look. He eyed the door, debating knocking on it. Maybe a little peek through the window wouldn't hurt first.
Maybe she wouldn't want to see him. She might scream and alert others. He wasn't supposed to be here after all. Let out on probation, the terms of which meant he was supposed to stay away from her. He was supposed to keep away from all witnesses while the Wizengamot considered dropping his case.
But how could he not come here? It was her.
When he peered through the window he was not prepared for what he saw. A man was seated at the table eating a meal. MC was standing near the fireplace, she carried some dishes to the table and the man reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear as she leant forward.
Sebastian tensed. He couldn't see her face, but the familiar way the man touched her suggested a lover or a husband. Fury snaked through him like ice. MC didn't touch the man in return, she moved away from the table and began to fold some clothing in a basket.
Sebastian's heart ached. This should have been him living the domestic dream with her, not that man at the table. It hurt that she had moved on, his jealousy a thick and slimy thing on his tongue. He debated moving away from the window, slipping back under the trees and disappearing.
Perhaps it had been wrong to come here. If she was happy, then disturbing her would only bring back unpleasant memories. He didn't want to hurt her.
He made to take a step back but paused, curious despite his worries, as the man spoke. "Are you alright? You seem tense."
MC stilled her hands, a blouse gripped in them. "Its nothing, Eddie. I'm fine."
Eddie frowned and put down his knife and fork. "Talk to me, MC," he said. "Tell me what to do."
She turned to look at him. "Please, Eddie. Not tonight."
"Isn't that what you say every night? It doesn't matter if its just talking, or if I want to touch you, you always push me away."
She hung her head. "I'm sorry," she said.
Eddie banged his hands down onto the table, frustration twisting his fine features. "But you're not sorry, are you? That's just it. You cannot let go of that criminal, even after all this time, it's always going to be him, isn't it?"
"Stop it," she said. She quickly finished her folding and picked up the laundry basket. "I told you, that's in the past. He isnt coming back."
"No, he isnt! And its about time you let this Sebastian fellow go, I am your husband and you should treat me with a little more respect. There isn't any room for a third person in this marriage, you are my wife, and I expect you to perform your duty to me!"
"You're getting angry, Eddie," she said. "Please, stop. Calm down."
MC turned her back, hurrying away with her laundry basket, her shoulders hunched. Sebastian felt sick. They were arguing over him? She still thought of him? The idea of this arse forcing himself on MC made Sebastian clench his fists. This wasn't domestic bliss and she sure as hell didn't look happy.
Eddie got to his feet and ripped the basket from her hands, the laundry spilling out over the floor. "Look at me when I speak to you, you little bitch," he snarled. He grasped MC's chin, forcing her face up to him.
"No, Eddie! Let me go!" MC shoved him back and they both staggered a little.
Sebastian froze, his jealous fury now switching into cold, brittle rage. He stared, shocked. MC had been fearless, a wild and skilled witch, capable of bringing down dark wizards and fearsome foes. To see her, shivering and frightened at the hands of this prick made Sebastian twitch with unbridled adrenaline.
Nobody ever laid a finger on her and got away with it, not when he was around. His dead uncle was proof enough of that.
Forgetting his need for caution, the terms of his probation the last thing on his mind, Sebastian hurried around and banged the door open, wide. Both Eddie and MC turned, surprised.
Eddie frowned, anger darkening his face further. "Who the fuck are you? How dare you barge in like that!"
MC was gaping, her eyes wide with shock. Her mouth worked, her hand reaching out towards Sebastian, shaky and desperate, before she could speak. "Sebastian..."
Eddie whipped around to look at her. "What?" He turned back to Sebastian, his fury growing. "This is him? He dares to come to this house? How the fuck did you get out of Azkaban?"
Calm settled over Sebastian. He narrowed his eyes, assessing the situation. Eddie was about his height, reasonably built, an aura of smug arrogance wafted from him. The jaunty angle of his chin suggested he didn't like to lose, and the smooth, unmarked skin suggested he didn't get involved in anything too rough and hard.
More than anything, Sebastian wished he had a wand. His own had been destroyed on entry to Azkaban, and he wasn't allowed one until after the probation had ended. Another annoying clause of it.
As he assessed Eddie, he was also paying mind to MC. She had backed up away from Eddie, her hand slipping into her skirts to retrieve her own wand. That's my girl.
"I was let out," Sebastian said, calmly.
MC almost sagged, her breath leaving her in a whoosh. Eddie glared at her. "Did you know about this?" She shook her head, hiding her wand behind her.
Sebastian stepped further into the house. "I don't like the way you put your hands on MC," he said coldly.
"She is my wife," Eddie snarled. He whipped out his wand, aiming it at Sebastian. It was clear immediately that he wasn't much for dueling. Clearly, he was just a mouthy bully "I will touch her how I like."
Sebastian stepped to the side, slowly, deliberately, forcing Eddie to turn to keep his eyes on him. Now, MC was behind him, out of Eddie's line of sight. She looked at Sebastian over Eddie's shoulder, a subtle nod confirming that she understood. It was an old trick of theirs, the unstoppable team work they had shared back in the day.
"I don't think so," Sebastian said. "Nobody touches what belongs to me."
Eddie snorted. "I've got paperwork that says different."
"Paper can easily be turned to ashes," Sebastian said. He smirked. It had been a while since he'd been in a little sparring match. "Why don't we ask MC who she would prefer to tuck her in at night?"
Eddie's face spasmed with jealous fury and he aimed his wand. Sebastian dodged with ease, a chuckle leaving his lips. "Is that all you've got?"
Frustrated, Eddie tried again, and Sebastian copped a basic cast to the shoulder, his move not as quick this time, he was a little out of practise. Distracted by the hit, he didn't see Eddie lunge until it was too late. Eddie's fist collided with his jaw and Sebastian fell back, spitting blood.
"Depulso," MC snarled.
Bright white and blue magic shot across the kitchen and hit Eddie with its full blast. Eddie shot forward, his body slamming into the wall with a sickening thud. Sebastian scrambling out of the way just in time.
MC was gasping, her wand still pointed at Eddie. "Is he...is he..."
Sebastian bent to check and shook his head. "No," he replied. "He is alive."
MC sagged, her wand lowering. Sebastian was on his feet, wiping the blood from his lips as he went to her. He moved to touch her, hold her, but paused. He hovered, unsure. "MC..."
She looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes. She put away her wand and then her hands were on his face, tracing the lines of it, her touch gentle, assessing. "It's really you," she said.
He nodded, his smile rueful. "Sorry to disappoint."
She shook her head. "No, no, not at all," she breathed. She brushed her thumb softly near the corner of his mouth. "I've had dreams about you coming back to me. And now, you're really here."
"I've missed you," he said. His voice came out rough, emotions welling up inside of him. "You have no idea..."
She threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight. He held her, relishing the feel of her in his arms. "I missed you too," she whispered.
Sebastian glanced at the man slumped on the floor. Her husband. "What about him?"
MC relaxed her hold on him but didn't let go. She grimaced. "He meant well, once. Its not entirely his fault. I wasn't the best wife to him."
"Past tense?" Sebastian said. He quirked an eyebrow.
MC flushed. She looked up at Sebastian. "I don't love him," she said. "How could I when I still love you?"
"I'm a criminal now, MC," he smirked. "Haven't you heard?"
"Then that makes two of us," she said. She pressed her mouth to his, her kiss desperate, hungry. He returned the kiss, starved for the feel of her.
When she pulled back, she looked up at him. "I will do whatever it takes," she said. "But take me with you, whatever we have to do to be together, I will do it. I refuse to be parted from you, ever again."
He swallowed hard. How long had he waited for this moment? He held her to him, tightly.
Whatever it takes.
There was a lot to do, to explain, but now they had the rest of their lives to do it, together.
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ellen-m-ichiban81 · 2 years ago
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This is actually a smut fic I wrote about someone else, so names have been changed, but I thought it fitted for Joseph too.
The first time is rushed and frantic; nearly six months of attraction and unresolved sexual tension means you don't even make it to the bed, Joseph fucking you on the hotel room floor, thrusting into you with a desperation that left you certain you would have carpet burns on your back in the morning. Not that you care. You've waited too damn long for this to care about anything. You climax together, your cries mingling as sure as your essences.
The second time is an act of exploration, Joseph seemingly determined to find every single one of your nerve endings and make them sing for him, hands and mouth and tongue sliding over every crevice and curve; he enters you slowly, almost lazily, expression a mix of triumph and affection, as he moves over you, hips rotating in slow circles as he hits that sweet spot every time, making you crazy, making you his. You peak first this time, a million tiny lights exploding behind your eyes as Joseph shouts your name and shudders through his own release.
The third time, he has you straddle him, and as you buck above him, you can look down at his face, twisted into a look of such unbridled need that it gives you chills. His teeth are bared, eyes screwed shut as his hips rise to meet you, dark curls falling over his beautiful face as he moans pleading words. You've never felt so powerful, knowing you're in the process of making him come apart with your own controlled movements, and then he is coming, body bucking erratically as he sobs helplessly. Seeing him like this triggers your own peak, and you collapse onto him as it tears through you.
The fourth time, you find yourself pinned between Joseph's body and the wall, one leg braced on his hip, the other draped over his shoulder as he pounds relentlessly into you. It's rough, demanding, and his surprising flexibility means he is twisting his body into near impossible positions as well as your own. He's grunting filth in your ear, tells you that you belong to him, nobody else. You don't need him to tell you that-you've never felt so possessed by any man, and so utterly destroyed. Your climax takes you by surprise this time, and you cry out your shock as it pulses throughout your being; you feel Joseph slump against you as he groans, filling you.
The fifth time, you're kneeling at the edge of the bed, head dipped low, as he takes you from behind, slamming into you with all the ferocity of an animal, rougher than before. One hand cups your breast while the other is between your legs, toying with your clit. You're both drenched in sweat and each other's fluids by now, bodies sliding against each other. Your head is spinning, your body completely oversensitized by Joseph's seemingly endless possession. His stamina is overwhelming; he is overwhelming.
At this point, Joseph is no longer coherent; the only sounds he can make are moans and growls. He finally yells triumphantly, body shaking uncontrollably as he comes yet again. You call out that you love him right before another orgasm takes you.
Afterwards, Joseph cradles you against his chest, chuckling softly, as if you've just shared a joke, and not the most mind-blowing sex you've ever had.
'That was...bloody good.' He murmured. 'Yeah?'
Yes. Good Lord, yes.
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