#they have to have been a mix of him and someone else
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The journey to get here had been tough.
He'd never really been the type to love hiking, but he hadn't had a choice.
Not when it had chosen him.
Everyone knew that you couldn't fight back against it.
If it chose you for a task, you had to do it.
No matter how old or young, if you had all of your limbs working, or if you wanted to.
You had to do it.
So here he was, after several hours of hiking, in front of the temple.
He rubbed his rough forehead to get rid of the sweat, looking down at his clothing.
He hadn't even gotten to wear good hiking clothes, forced to wear these.. robes.
God, he felt like he was about to be sacrificed. He absentmindedly scratched at the place his tusks came out of, feeling the pain from irritating an ready injured area pump through him. He ignored it.
His hands brushed off dirt from the robes, as God knew they'd be angry if he came in like this.
Steeling himself for what was to come, he entered the temple.
The inside was much cooler than the blaring heat outside that had made him suffer for the past couple hours, which he was grateful for. His thick skin hadn't been made for hot weather.
He suddenly took notice of someone standing there, and bowed awkwardly as greeting.
They didn't respond, instead grabbing him by the sleeve and making him trail along behind them.
Ignoring his own thoughts calling them rude, he stayed docile, following after them. He couldn't anger it.
He was led into a relatively bare room, containing only some potted plants in the corners, and a rug.
He wondered if most rooms were like this, or if this one was special for whatever reason.
Finally tuning back in, he saw someone else enter the room, two vials floating behind them.
Ah, an elf.
He saw their face change to disgust for a second, before returning to neutrality.
Elves were never known for liking orcs, after all.
The elf spoke,
"in the first vial is a pure demonic essence, and in the second is pure angelic essence—"
Before the elf could finish, he'd snatched both vials with his thick fingers, pouring the first vial into the second one and mixing by sloshing the concoction around a bit.
He proceeded to drink from it like a shot of whiskey.
He knew it wasn't a good idea, but considering he'd been sent to elves that lived in a climate opposite to his, he was pretty certain the mission from it would've involved eradicating some of his kind. And what was in those vials was probably supposed to help with that.
He'd promised himself he'd never hurt his own kind.
He never went back on promises.
...
He crumpled to his knees, voice at a frequency elves couldn't hear, pain thrumming through his entire being.
He could feel the spikes on his back elongate, until tissue started growing onto it, then feathers.
He was scratching at his back, trying to get them off, to stop the pain.
Then, he felt his little stubby tail twitch as energy came towards it.
And he felt the bones break and reform to make it longer and thinner, make it have that little spiked end all depictions of devils had.
...
By the time he came to, he was covered in blood.
He was pretty sure it was his, and considering the ambient noises he heard, he'd been kicked out.
Was he just gonna be like this now?
Should he cut off his wings?
What would he do with his tail?
Too many questions for his tired self to answer, so he just shifted closer to the river he was apparently near of, and drifted back to sleep.
He hoped it'd be colder tomorrow.
"In the first vial there is a pure demonic essence, and in the second there is pure angelic essence-" Without letting them finish, you mix both vials and drink the mixture.
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GT: Man where IS he anyway??? GT: Is he taking one of his legendary infinite showers? TT: What can I say. TT: Dude fancies his ablutions.
We've already had an early-bird Roxy cameo, but Bro's certainly taking his sweet time.
I don't think this is actually the case, but it'd be pretty interesting if the original Kid Bro was already dead, and his AI duplicate was the 'real' Player all along. (He'd wield the Mind Aspect, obviously.)
GT: But seriously that brobot has been the bane of my existence ever since you sent it.
You as in the Responder, or you as in Kid Bro? The former is constantly posing as the latter, so it'd be pretty easy to mix them up. We really do need to get this guy his own account...
TT: I didn't send it. I sent the parts. TT: Or, correction, DS sent them.
...especially since even he's prone to blurring the lines between the two.
The question of whether he 'is' Bro is kind of debatable - but philosophy aside, viewing yourself as a shadow of someone else simply isn't good for your mental health.
GT: When hes pulling punches… GT: And taking it all easy and such… GT: And we start wrestling up a storm and whatnot… GT: Umm. TT: What. GT: Its just that the whole proceeding seems to become… GT: A bit tender for my liking.
Translation: The AR has a crush on Jake, and the only way he can express these feelings is through homoerotic combat. He can't even touch Jake, so he just sends a robot to kick his ass, and tries to live vicariously through the intricate rituals that ensue - but he'll never actually touch his skin.
...damn. This guy's getting very tragic, very fast.
TT: What does the guy have to do, Jake? TT: You want to wrestle. He's fucking game. Just a man, a machine, a secluded tropical island. Sounds like you died and went to fucking heaven, if you ask me. TT: Seriously, what does this simple, loyal brobot have to do to prove his worth to you?
Oh, you are down catastrophic, aren't you?
This... this is a disaster waiting to happen. None of this is going to go anything close to well.
TT: If the brobot's Novice setting makes you uneasy, I'm going to disable it remotely. TT: Done.
What, no!
Don't turn off the gay switch, dude! We can solve this!
Ok if he wants happy hunting you will GIVE him happy hunting. HAPPILY.
I absolutely love this expression - mostly because, despite their shared looks, you could never imagine John giving this energy.
This mood is completely unique to Jake English, and it's great.
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the parent trap (remake) | CS 55
cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader
warn: 100% fiction & remake
next chap
Part 10 The Bombshell News
Breakfast was a feast on its own. Chessy placed each dish in front of Mattia with a wide smile.
"Alright, little chillie boy, breakfast today is tostada con tomate y aceite de oliva, perfectly toasted bread rubbed with ripe tomatoes and drizzled with the finest Spanish olive oil. Oh, I also made jamón ibérico, thin slices of the best cured ham straight from Salamanca. I added a plate of tortilla española, soft and golden, with a hint of caramelized onions. Oh, and if you're in the mood for something sweet, I made churros served with thick, velvety hot chocolate. Lastly, just to top it all off, a small plate of queso manchego paired with fig jam," Chessy said, her voice a mix of pride and anticipation as she placed all the dishes in front of the boy.
Mattia stared at the food, wide-eyed. Did his twin brother eat like this every day? Did he have a black hole for a stomach? He felt full just looking at the table. Slowly, he picked up a piece of toast but didn’t take a bite.
Chessy immediately noticed and frowned. “What’s wrong baby? Not hungry again? You barely touched your dinner last night. Are you sick?” she reached out, pressing his palm against Mattia’s forehead.
“It’s not that, Chessy. Everything looks delicious. Seriously,” Mattia reassured, offering a sheepish smile.
Chessy seeing him for a moment before shrugging. “Okay then.”
Mattia take the toast that Chessy made, it was delicious—something he’d never tasted back in London. He washed it down with a sip of fresh orange juice.
“Chessy… where’s my Dad?” Mattia asked, his voice hesitant.
Chessy, who had been cleaning up a few crumbs, paused. “Ah, your dad and… the young woman,” he said, mimicking an exaggerated voice, “‘Chess, I just want an apple for breakfast, thanks,’ left early to handle some wine cellar business. You were on the phone, and they didn’t want to interrupt.”
Mattia’s cheeks flushed. He hadn’t realized anyone noticed. “Oh… it’s just that I…”
“Were you talking to someone important? Like you called before breakfast?” Chessy teased, raising an eyebrow.
Mattia nearly choked on his toast. “I… uh, I was talking to a friend.”
Chessy leaned on the counter, giving him an incredulous look. “At 5 in the morning? Are you planning something chillie?” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Panicking, Mattia stumbled over his words. “Oh! No, no. My friend on vacation in Hawaii, and he told me that he is having fun there.”
Chessy smirked but didn’t press further. “Alright, little liar. Anyway, your Dad said to head to the cellars after breakfast. He wants to talk to you.”
Mattia nodded, grateful for the change in topic. “Thanks, Chessy.” He grabbed a churos on his way out, muttering, “Everything was delicious.”
As he reached the door, their dog, Sammy, barked loudly, almost as if trying to warn him of something. Mattia frowned, trying to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.
“You have to push it, Matheo,” Chessy called out, clearly amused.
Mattia pushed, the door finally giving way. “I’m losing my mind,” he muttered, hurrying out before Chessy could say anything else.
****
The wine cellars were massive, filled with the rich aroma of aged bottles. Mattia wandered through, marveling at the sheer size, until he found his father inspecting a bottle of Heredad Sainz de Castro 1789 wine. A pang of emotion hit him as he realized it was his mother’s favorite.
Carlos looked up, startled but quickly smiled. “Oh, Theo, didn’t hear you come in. Just a second,” he said, setting the bottle back in its place and moving aside some boxes. “Alright, let’s talk outside.”
Once outside, Carlos glanced at him seriously. “I wanted to ask you about something. Actually… it’s about Meredith.”
Mattia’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s funny. I also have something to ask you… about Mom.”
Carlos froze, clearly caught off guard. “What?”
“What do you want to tell me about Meredith?” Mattia pressed, ignoring the shock on his father’s face.
Carlos bit his lip. “Matheo, wait… your mom?”
Matheo nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes, old man. Remember, you never told me about my mom?”
Carlos winced. “We’ve talked about this before, Matheo.”
“Not really! And don’t blame me for being curious. It’s normal to want to know about your mom. Or do you think I’ll keep believing a dove delivered me to your doorstep?” Mattia crossed his arms, glaring up at him.
Carlos looked increasingly uncomfortable. “Wait, that’s not…”
“Come on Dad, I know you’re always here for me, but I still need a mom. It’s a big deal, and you know it.”
Carlos sighed heavily, nodding. “You’re right. You need that figure in your life, which is why I wanted to tell you about…”
He was interrupted by the honk of a golf cart. Meredith arrived, beaming, with a decent-dressed man by his side. “Hello, my love! Just in time to introduce you to our shareholder, James Charles,” Meredith announced cheerfully.
Carlos composed himself, greeting Sergio with a firm handshake. “A pleasure to meet you.”
Meredith’s eyes sparkled as she turned to the man. “And this is Matheo, the kid I always tell you about.”
Sergio smiled warmly. “It’s a pleasure. Meredith speaks highly of you.”
Meredith smirked and patted Carlos’s arm. “Honey, I was planning to have lunch on the terrace with Mr. Charles to discuss the new wine collection.”
“Great idea,” Carlos replied smoothly. “But I promised Matheo we’d go riding today.” He winked at his son.
Meredith waved it off. “Of course, Carlitos. Don’t let me keep you. I’ll handle the business side of things.” As she climbed back into the cart, she leaned toward James. “When I marry Carlos Sainz, that kid’s going to boarding school. Mark my words.”
James chuckled. “Ouw…soo nasty and cute of you, Meredith.”
“I know,” Meredith replied smugly. “Don’t remind me.”
****
Mattia’s laughter echoed through the vineyard, his face lit with exhilaration. It was his first time riding a horse, and he couldn’t believe how free it made him feel. Perched atop the stallion, he gave a small pat to his stallion, feeling every trot as if it were his own heartbeat.
“Matheo, let the stallion rest!” Carlos called out from behind, his voice tinged with parental authority but softened by affection.
Matheo slowed the horse to a stop, guiding him to a hill that overlooked endless rows of vineyards. The golden sunlight poured over the valley, casting a warm glow over the scene. He turned to Carlos, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Hey, Matheo,” Carlos began as he caught up. “Ready for the next camp?”
Mattia tilted his head in confusion, his expression a mix of genuine curiosity and a dash of theatrical cluelessness. “Which camp?”
Carlos squinted at him, a little annoyed but mostly amused. “The one we always do every summer. What do you mean, ‘which camp’?”
“Oh, ‘that’ camp!” Mattia’s response was quick, his voice dripping with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Can’t wait, Dad. Literally counting the seconds.” His tone was just convincing enough to pass.
Carlos smiled, giving him a knowing look. “Matheo, I wanted to ask you something.”
Mattia stiffened slightly, the shift in tone making his stomach flip. “What is it?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“What do you think about Meredith?”
Mattia blinked, caught off guard. “As a person?” he asked, trying to waste time. Carlos nodded, his gaze steady. Mattia scratched the back of his neck, his thoughts racing as fast as the stallion had been moments ago.
“Well, I mean…” he started, his voice faltering. “She seems awesome. Attractive, I guess? And she can say your name without butchering it, so there’s that. But… she’s kind of a mystery to me. Why?” His words tumbled out like a half-built defense, unsure where this was headed.
Carlos hesitated before speaking. “Because I wanted to tell you that she and I…”
Mattia’s chest tightened. He didn’t know what Carlos was about to say, but something about the tone made him want to avoid hearing it at all costs.
“I bet you can’t catch me!” he shouted abruptly, yanking the reins and urging the horse forward.
“Matheo! Wait!” Carlos’s voice rang out in alarm. “I’m trying to tell you something!
But Mattia didn’t look back. The wind whipped past his face as the horse galloped through the vineyard, Carlos chasing after him in a panicked blur. By the time Mattia reached the house, he was out of breath and brimming with a mix of guilt and panic.
****
Mattia burst into the living room in panic his thoughts swirled in chaos. “God, I can't handle this, it's too much, I'm just a kid. I can’t.” he said while trying not to cry.
"Do you want to share something with me Matheo?" Chessy said appearing from behind the couch, scaring Mattia to death.
"Oh my God Chessy, you gave me a fright" he said, earning a strange look from his babysitter.
" I gave you a fright??" she asked incredulously, making a line with her mouth.
"Alright, enough. I just want to ask you. Are you sure there’s nothing you wanna talk about? Like, why Sammy’s been avoiding you? Or why your appetite’s gone all weird? Or, I don’t know, why you’re suddenly using phrases like ‘you gave me a fright’?”
Mattia tried to laugh it off, but it sounded weak even to him. “I’ve just… changed over the summer, that’s all.”
Chessy raised an eyebrow, leaning in like she was piecing together a puzzle. “Gosh, if I didn't know you well enough, I’d say it’s almost like you were—”
“Like I was who, Chessy?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s impossible. Forget I said anything.”
But Mattia wasn’t letting it go. “Almost like I was Mattia?” his voice was quiet, daring her to confirm what he knew.
Chessy was speechless hearing that name, “Wait—you know about Mattia?”
Mattia took a deep breath and said, "It's just that...I am Mattia.” Chessy was completely shocked as tears began to slide down her cheeks.
Before Chessy could respond, Carlos stormed through the door, out of breath and clearly still rattled. “Theo—Matheo why’d you run away like that? I told you, I needed to talk to you!”
Mattia didn’t answer. He was too busy trying to read the expression on Chessy face, who stood frozen, staring at him with her wide smile and tearful eyes.
Carlos frowned at the odd tension in the room. "Chessy, why are you looking at Theo like you've never seen him before?"
Chessy’s voice broke as she answered, shaking her head as if to clear a fog. "No... I see him just like always. 7 pounds, 38 centimeters at birth... He’s still so beautiful." Her voice cracked as tears slipped down her cheeks. "Can I hug him?"
Before Carlos could respond, Chessy had already closed the distance and reach Mattia in a tight hug. Mattia, tried not to cry himself, because of his babysitter feelings.
When Chessy finally pulled back, her face was still wet with tears. She sniffled, attempting a shaky smile. "Do you want something special to eat? Or, I don’t know... Actually, never mind. I’ll just make everything we have in the kitchen!" Without waiting for an answer, Chessy disappeared, muttering to herself while wiping at her face.
Carlos watched the whole ordeal unfold, utterly baffled. With a shake of his head, he turned back to his son, now perched on the couch. "Theo, I need to talk to you about something important," he said, trying to shake off the oddness of Chessy’s behavior.
Mattia perked up. "Fine, what is it, Dad?"
Carlos hesitated, his nerves bubbling to the surface, but he pressed on. "What do you think about... Meredith being part of the family?"
Mattia tilted his head, considering the question. "Part of our family? Like, this family?
Carlos nodded a bit too forcefully, attempting to mask his apprehension. "Yes."
A wide smile broke across Mattia’s face. "I think that’s a wonderful idea, Dad! I’ve always wanted a big sister! You’re the best!"
Carlos blinked, momentarily stunned. "Really? I thought you might—"
Mattia cut him off with a cheerful laugh. "Are you kidding? This is amazing news I am going to have big sister! You’re such a good dad—"
But Carlos quickly interjected, shaking his head. "No, no. It’s not that. I... I’m not adopting her, Theo. I’m going to marry her."
Mattia shot to his feet so fast Carlos flinched. Mattia face was a mix of shock and something verging on betrayal. "Qu'allez-vous l'épouser?! Dad tu ne peux pas l'épouser! Comment pouvez-vous épouser une personne qui peut être mon frère?!" The words spilled from Mattia’s mouth like a torrent, his voice rising as he spoke. (translate: Are you going to marry her?! Dad, you can't marry her! How can you marry someone who might be my big sister?!)
Carlos froze, his jaw practically unhinged. "Theo! Were you just... speaking French?!"
Mattia eyes widened, and he quickly fumbled for an excuse. "Oh... uh, yeah. They taught us French at camp. No big deal." His father looked dubious but didn’t press the issue.
"Okay, okay, calm down baby" Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I'm sorry. Let's discuss this calmly, calmly and rationally.” Mattia replied his father
"Yeah we need to talk about this calmly, and in Spanish or English this time. Please."
Mattia shook his head, visibly upset. His voice wavered as he pointed an accusatory finger at his father. "You can’t marry her, Dad! It would ruining completely everything!"
And before Carlos could utter a single word of reassurance, Mattia run away from the room, tears streaming down his face. His father’s shouts followed him down the hall, but he didn’t stop. All Mattia could think about was finding a way to stop the wedding and figure out what to do next.
prev chap
#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 fluff#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#cs55#f1 imagine
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cops and robbers | choso x reader
for the @phantasmaebg event!!!
wc: 792
the city buzzed with energy as you slinked through the shadows, the sharp scent of rain clinging to the air. the museum was quieter than usual, almost eerie, the soft hum of the security system the only sound accompanying you. the painting you were after glinted just ahead, a priceless masterpiece practically begging to be stolen.
you’d done this countless times before. in and out, no complications.
but tonight was different.
tonight, he was here.
“y’know,” a low, smooth voice drawled behind you, sending a shiver down your spine. “for someone who prides themselves on being invisible, you’re pretty predictable.”
you turned, your heart skipping as choso kamo stepped out of the shadows, his dark eyes locked onto you with an intensity that felt like a physical weight.
“predictable?” you shot back, masking the flicker of nerves with a smirk. “i prefer the term ‘consistent.’”
his lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. instead, he stepped closer, his long coat brushing against his legs, his boots echoing softly in the empty gallery. you took an instinctive step back, your fingers itching to reach for the smoke bomb in your pocket.
“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he murmured, his voice dipping into something darker.
“what can i say? i have a knack for making your job harder,” you teased, even as your pulse quickened.
“yeah, i’ve noticed.”
his gaze was unrelenting, a mix of frustration and something else—something that made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t entirely prepared for.
“you here to catch me or flirt with me?” you asked, tilting your head with a grin you hoped looked confident.
his eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tightening. “who says i can’t do both?”
your breath caught, but you refused to let it show. instead, you shrugged, leaning casually against the nearest pillar. “you’ve been chasing me for months, kamo. don’t you ever get tired?”
“never.” his answer was immediate, firm. “you make it interesting, plus if i wanted you arrested, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
you hated the way his words sent a spark of heat through you. this was supposed to be a game—cat and mouse, thief and officer. but the way he looked at you, the way his voice dropped just enough to make your pulse race, it felt like something else entirely.
“well,” you said, pushing off the pillar and circling him slowly, your eyes scanning for an opening. “if you enjoy the chase so much, maybe i’ll let you catch me one day.”
he didn’t move, his gaze tracking your every step like a predator watching its prey. “maybe tonight’s the night.”
“you think so?” you asked, stopping just out of reach, your smirk widening. “hate to break it to you, but i’m not that easy.”
“neither am i,” he shot back, his voice low and dangerous.
the air between you was electric, charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the job and everything to do with the way his eyes lingered on yours. for a moment, you wondered what would happen if you closed the distance, if you stepped just a little closer.
but then you remembered who you were—and who he was.
“well,” you said, taking a step back, “as fun as this has been, i’ve got places to be.”
you moved to dart past him, but he was faster than you expected. his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back before you could make it two steps.
“not so fast,” he murmured, his voice a quiet rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.
you twisted in his grip, your free hand pressing flat against his chest to push him back. but instead of letting go, his hold tightened, his body impossibly close to yours now.
“gotcha,” he said softly, his breath warm against your ear.
your heart pounded, and you hated how much you noticed the heat of his skin, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his scent—clean and faintly woodsy—seemed to wrap around you.
“you really think this is over?” you asked, tilting your head to meet his gaze.
his lips curved into a faint smirk, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of amusement in his usually serious expression. “you tell me.”
you leaned in, so close your lips nearly brushed his ear. “not even close.”
with a sharp twist, you broke free of his grip, your smoke bomb already in your hand. you tossed it at the ground, the room filling with a thick cloud of smoke as you made your escape.
“see you around, officer,” you called over your shoulder as you slipped into the night, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t want to think about.
you knew this wasn’t the end. not with him. and as much as you hated to admit it, part of you didn’t want it to be.
#jjk x reader#choso x you#choso fluff#kamo choso#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#kamo choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you
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˚ ♡ ⋆。˚ ❀ we should just kiss like real people do
NOT using cherry wine because the song has been through too many bastardizations already, and i'm a hozier fan before i'm anything else. to use cherry wine would be a disgrace, even if it has the 'perfect' line for a fic like this)
type: viktor x vampire reader
summary: headcanons and then a drabble of an instance where you feed
warning(s): blood, vampirism
word count: 921
a/n: been thinking about vampirism a whole lot lately as well as feeling down, so now i cope through tumblr fics. i love viktor, i wish i felt as strongly about real life people like i do for him
For a creature that's considered parasitic, the relationship you have with your eccentric scientist proved quite mutualistic
When you first stalked him on his walk home that late, late night, he had seemed like ordinary prey, easy to sink your teeth into and forget about
Something stopped you
Maybe it was that look in his eyes, flickering like a flame in the dark of that alleyway, refusing to die
They were so determined, so full of life
How could you ever drain them of that spark? It wasn't right
You could sense his fear, so palpable in the air, but he stood firm. His grip on his cane steady, his posture straight as he stared right at you with those lovely eyes, a million stories flitting through them
The eyes of someone who fought to survive since the moment he was born
You felt yourself slowing down, and then dropping to your knees completely
What were you doing? Were those tears in your eyes? You've become so jaded
Immortality had made you nothing
This mortal, so brief in the fabric of time, and his life already so weak and waning, had more... what was it? vigor to him
Lust was something you knew very well. Bloodlust. You embodied it. That urge that could never be satisified, the driving force that keeps your miserable legs moving, your body agile and agitated
His lust was one for life. For pursuit too, as you came to find out
A deal was struck that night; knowledge in exchanged for food
You allowed him to observe you and ask his questions, to witness your hunts (on animals now. less thrilling, but you digress)
In return, he became a sustainable food source. You didn't have to go out and about in the night now and get paid in stupid drunks or those rotten enforcers for your efforts
How lovely, to have something consistent for once
You could get used to this
Get used to him
divider below from @/dollywons !!!
The quiet comfort of the bedroom reminded you of your old crypt, in a way. It was dark. The sheets were soft and meticulously kept. It smelled of leather and old books and dried ink on fresh paper. The new addition was Viktor.
You'd started lounging about in his home, and his room became your favorite corner of the house. It became ritual for him to joke about having a coffin fixed there so you won't have to hog the blankets. Not his blankets. They were to be shared now, and he was fine with that. The coffin idea was still appealing though.
Tonight interrupted the quiet. You lingered before him, eyeing the pale curve of his neck. It was taking all your self control to not pounce on him immediately.
"Are you comfortable?" you asked.
He shifted around a bit, and then nodded.
"I'll try to keep accurate time. See if you're more greedy than last time," he joked.
Tsk. It wasn't that funny. (It is). You weren't as hungry as before.
Now you hovered above him, having laid him down. There was less hesitation this time, and you wonder if he'd note that down in his journal. You both did this song and dance enough by now to be comfortable with one another.
Still, the act of feeding was one of savagery. That can't change. When mixed with romance? It clashed, horribly. Your inherent nature versus what had been nurtured.
The taste of his blood filled your mouth, and you could sing to the heavens. If such a creature like yourself were allowed to. You weren't sure on the terms and conditions of that. Regardless, he was so sweet. A heady vermillion ambrosia on your tongue.
You were taking such care to be gentle with him.
You didn’t want to hurt him, but your love was violence, the draining of life, and the dark urges that lurk beneath every man, and he was already going limp.
Shit.
You pulled back immediately, the red still dripping from your teeth and down your throat. It mirrored the punctures on his. Viktor, the stubborn bastard, gripped the edge of your sleeve. He tugged insistently.
"I'm fine. I'm not as fragile as you think," he said, miffed.
“Too bad. I’m full,” you slowly pry yourself from his grip.
While he lazed back, you grabbed the first-aid kit. So used to it by now. He didn’t even flinch when you applied the antiseptic. After securing the gauze, you leaned down to brush another kiss against his lips, and he sighed at the slight feel of your fangs against the skin there.
“Was your vampire research quota met?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbow to observe him.
“Very much,” he replied. “I look forward to comparing it with next week’s results.”
As he drifted off in your arms, you felt affection swell in your heart, and a fierce protectiveness over him.
He was strong.
You knew that more than anyone. He walked such a thin line between life and death. You could hear the beat of his heart, the flowing in his veins, and fragility of his tissues and arteries and bones. He pushed on, despite it. Taking his body to limits that had you balking, and you were near invincible.
In your hold, he was so delicate. His body was already thin and frail. So easily breakable. The very thought made you uncomfortable, and you tightened your hold on his sleeping form.
He was strong. You’ll protect him anyways.
#arcane x reader#viktor x reader#viktor x you#viktor arcane#viktor nation#viktor fluff#arcane#arcane fanfic#arcane imagine#a shorter work than my other ones#getting back into the swing of things i suppose
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Unspoken Words
╰┈➤ pairing: Shanks x female! reader
a/n: send request if you have any <3
summary: After a long and unexpected reunion with Shanks, the two of you share a quiet, intimate moment on the deck of the Red-Haired Pirates' ship, where Shanks finally confesses that, despite all the years and distance, he’s never stopped loving you.
wc: 900
contains: fluff, tiny angst
The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as the sea lapped gently against the hull of the Red-Haired Pirates' ship. The sounds of the crew bustled in the background, but up on the deck, away from the ruckus, the air felt still, like the world had paused just for you two.
You hadn't expected to be here—on this ship, with him.
It had been years. Years of wondering, waiting, and hoping that one day you’d see him again. Shanks. The man who had left without a word, disappearing into the vast world, only to reappear like a distant memory brought to life. You had kept the promise you'd made to yourself: to move on. Life had taken you down its own winding roads, yet deep down, a part of you had always carried him with you.
Now, you stood beside him once more. Your heart ached with emotions you couldn’t quite sort out. His fiery red hair caught the light of the fading sun, and that trademark grin played across his lips, but there was something in his eyes—something softer—that made you wonder just how much time had really passed.
"You’re quieter than I remember," Shanks chuckled, turning his gaze toward you.
You blinked, breaking from your thoughts. "I guess I’m still processing this whole... reunion."
He tilted his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, but there was a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath. "I didn't expect you to be speechless. Was I that bad of a captain to make you nervous?"
The teasing tone didn’t reach his eyes, though. His grin faltered for a brief second, and you noticed the subtle way his fingers tightened around the railing. He’d always worn that easygoing facade, but the longer you looked at him, the more it became clear—there was something on his mind. Something he hadn't told you all these years.
You took a small step closer, letting the warm evening breeze sweep through your hair. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
Shanks laughed softly, a sound you had missed so much. "I know," he admitted. "But... it’s been so long, I wasn’t sure where to start."
You gave him a small, wry smile, your gaze steady on him. "Start with the most important part," you said quietly. "Why did you leave without a word? We didn’t even get a proper goodbye."
His expression shifted, and for a moment, he was silent. He turned his gaze to the horizon, the fiery orange sun reflecting in his eyes. “I wanted to come back. God, I wanted to. But... I didn’t think it was right. I thought you’d be better off without me, that I’d just get in the way of your future."
You were silent, processing his words. “So you left because you thought it was for the best?” you asked, your voice a mix of frustration and sadness.
Shanks nodded, his shoulders tense. "I’ve always been a man who lives in the moment. But I’ve never been good at thinking ahead. Back then, I couldn’t offer you anything solid. I didn’t want to drag you along with my reckless lifestyle... And I hated the idea of you waiting for me, wasting your life on someone who couldn’t promise you anything."
The weight of his words hung between you, but as you watched him—this man who had always been larger than life, full of energy and joy—you saw something that you hadn’t expected: regret.
"I spent all these years thinking about you," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. "Wondering if you hated me, or if you had moved on with someone else. I tried to convince myself that it was better this way. But it’s been... hard. Every damn day, harder than the last."
Your heart clenched as you took a step forward, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Shanks, you don't have to apologize. You did what you thought was best... but I wish you’d known I would've waited for you."
He turned to face you then, his gaze locking onto yours. The playful spark was gone, replaced by an intensity that made your breath hitch. "I didn’t know," he murmured, his voice low. "But I do now."
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the sea and the faint creak of the ship’s wooden planks. Shanks shifted, closing the distance between you, and before you knew it, his hand gently cupped your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek, a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of warmth through your chest.
“You’ve always been a part of me, Y/N,” Shanks whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “Even when I was a thousand miles away, I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you.”
The words hung in the air, as if they were both a confession and a release. A truth he’d kept hidden for far too long. You stared at him, your heart racing, and a bittersweet smile curled on your lips.
"I don’t know what to say," you murmured, your voice trembling slightly.
"You don’t have to say anything," he replied, his grin returning but this time it held a tenderness that hadn’t been there before. "I just wanted you to know... I never stopped loving you."
Your heart swelled, and without another thought, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips were warm and gentle against yours, like a long-awaited reunion, and for a moment, the world melted away. The past, the years of separation, the pain—it all faded into the background as you kissed him, letting the emotions that had been hidden for so long wash over you both.
When you pulled back, breathless and with your forehead resting against his, you whispered, “I missed you, Shanks.”
He grinned, his eyes still soft but filled with that familiar spark. "I’m not going anywhere this time."
And for the first time in years, you believed him.
The sun dipped below the horizon, but the warmth between you both remained—quiet, unspoken, and enough to carry you both through whatever the future held.
♡♡♡
#anime#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece shanks#op shanks#red haired shanks#shanks x reader#shanks x you#shanks x y/n#shanks#shanks fluff
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I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 2).
*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com
You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong
An anon request for lovers to enemies ->part 1.
Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.
Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.
CW: none really. Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst.
WC: 3.2k
Dividers: Silent-stories.
It's a Friday night, in Vegas no less, and instead of being out on the strip, Sloan has dragged you to the hotel bar.
"Is there a reason for why we're in here and not out on the strip right now?"
"Because, the night is young and there are plenty of hot people here for you to mingle with." She says, nudging your hip. You look out at the sea of people and make a face, using your glass to hide it from Sloan's view while taking a sip of your drink, as you make your way through them from the bar to a booth.
You hadn't come here seeking a hookup, instead, you wanted a chance to clear your head. However, that had become impossible since the reason for your mental turmoil was now occupying the room next door.
You fall into the booth with a huff, moving over for Sloan to scoot in beside you as she leans in closer to speak to you over the music.
"You know what they say, to get over someone you need to—"
"Don't you dare say get under somebody else."
"Guy or girl, either will do." Sloan shrugs.
Sadly your experiences with women ended just as tragically as they did with men.
"Have you ever noticed how hot Jolly is?"
Sloan's unsolicited comment about Noah's bandmate and friend draws your attention as you follow her gaze and witness five familiar faces entering the bar. It doesn't surprise you and yet now you wish that you were anywhere but here.
"No, I can't say that I have." You're hopeful she catches the disinterest in your tone.
"Oh come on, look at him. Those tattoos, that long hair, the accent! God he's dreamy." She says, bringing her straw to her lips, taking a sip of her drink. "I bet he's a charmer too, a real gentleman."
"Are you really gushing over him right now?"
"A girl can look, can't she?" She briefly glances at you before returning her gaze to Jolly, who stands at the bar with his friends. "Besides, there's something about his age that really ignites my daddy issues."
"Okay, I think you've had enough of this." You reach for her glass, pulling the mixed cocktail away from her.
"I wonder if he likes to be called daddy."
"Please don't." You grimace at the thought.
Your mind had been plagued by what ifs when it came to Noah and his ex. The last thing you needed was to imagine any scenario involving his bandmate and his preferences in the bedroom.
"I'm going to ask him." She declares, shuffling herself to the edge of the booth.
"Sloan!"
"What? I told you, you need to go find someone to help you get over Noah and I need someone to just get my leg over." She laughs and you roll your eyes.
She's like a cat in heat when she finds someone she's interested in. You just wish it weren't someone so closely connected to Noah, and that she wouldn't abandon you right now to pursue them.
You watch her approach Jolly from across the bar, following her usual routine of leaning against him, brushing herself closer, and whispering something in his ear. Almost like clockwork, he finishes his glass of brown liquor and slips off with her.
She's too predictable.
For a fleeting moment, your eyes meet Noah's as you scan the bar. He notices your gaze and raises his glass in a toast. You decide to ignore it, downing your drink and the remaining contents of Sloan's before slipping out of the booth to head to your room for the night, maybe you'll even order room service.
Hopefully tomorrow will have a better start to it.
"He has got to be fucking kidding me." You grumble under your breath, huffing as you roll over and pull your pillow over your head to muffle out the sound currently coming through the wall you share with Noah.
Between the rhythmic banging against the wall and the high-pitched moans you keep hearing, it's safe to assume he isn't alone in there. If his intention had been to annoy you, unfortunately, it was working. You assume it's just another one of his many tactics to get under your skin.
So far, this weekend has been anything but peaceful, and you're starting to regret coming.
Even the tv does little to drown out the noise that is coming through the wall your bed is against.
Eventually, the noise all becomes too much and you find yourself throwing the covers off, drag yourself out of bed with a hefty sigh, deciding to confront the matter at hand and potentially tell him to shut the fuck up.
Rapidly knocking on Noah's hotel room door, you huff and the moment he opens it, you're met with him shirtless, wearing only his boxers. His chest glistens with what could easily be sweat or maybe water. From the sounds you'd heard coming through the wall from his room, you guess it to be the first, especially when you hear the heaviness in his breath.
"Oh hey, we're not being too loud are we?"
Your eyes narrow on him. You hadn't even spoken a word for why you were here, but he had already apparently figured out your reasoning.
"If you're entertaining guests, do you mind keeping it down?" You attempt to peer behind him and into the room, Noah purposely moving his larger frame to block you.
"Sorry. Had no idea we were being that loud." There's a smug grin on his face and what you wouldn't give to slap it off him.
It's two in the morning and perhaps for Vegas that is still early, but for you it's the middle of the night.
"Of course not. So, what unfortunate girl did you manage to convince to come home with you this time, huh?" Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise an eyebrow.
You have no genuine reason or explanation for asking him this, as if you genuinely care to know. Besides, the room has now fallen silent, compared to the incessant noise you were hearing through the wall just moments ago.
"Well…" Rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, a sheepish expression crosses his face, which causes your own brow to furrow.
Then his words are cut off by the sound of a familiar giggle, your eyes widening as you hear the stretched out sound of his name from a voice which turns your blood cold. "Noooowah."
"No, wait! I can explain!" Noah reaches for you as you quickly turn back in the direction of your room, almost catching his fingers in the door when it slams shut behind you.
You spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, the sound of Noah's ex's voice playing on repeat in your head after hearing it come from his room. You more so hate the fact that you're allowing it to bother you at all, but the look on his face had almost screamed guilt to you.
What you hate even more is indulging in a Google search, which inevitably leads you down a rabbit hole, revealing that his ex-girlfriend will indeed be present at the festival they're scheduled to perform at on Sunday.
By morning, you're grumpy and sleep-deprived, but the thought of staying in the room next to them for any longer becomes increasingly irritating. With a heavy sigh, you drag yourself out of bed, quickly showering and changing. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, you decide to explore the hotel and send Sloan a text, informing her of your plans.
"Excuse me?" You look up, only to find yourself once again face to face with the same asshole front man you've been trying to avoid.
It's been an hour of peace this morning and somehow, even in a busy hotel, he still manages to cross paths with you.
"What?" You say through gritted teeth, before you realize that the voice hasn't come from him.
It had been feminine and soft, coming from a young girl who stood nearby, with two of her friends.
"I'm sorry. I was wondering if you would mind taking a photo for us? We're such huge fans of him and..."
You don't need to hear the same old drivel.
Huge fans, their first time meeting him, would love a group photo, yada yada yada. It wasn't your first time standing on the sidelines and becoming an unofficial photographer for him and the fans who spotted him while he was out.
Catching sight of Noah's face, you see him raising his brows as if to express his silent shame regarding your rudeness directed at the young girl.
"Of course she wouldn't mind." He quickly interjects before you have a moment to register and refuse, forcing a smile as you take her phone from her.
"I'd be delighted." It was a lie, but you could hardly say no now. You'd already been an asshole once.
Lifting the phone, you glance at them through the screen before calling out. "Say cheese." They all comply in unison, the girls striking poses and huddling close to their idol, while Noah raises his signature peace sign.
As soon as you return the phone, Noah has already slipped away and headed back towards his group bandmates, who are eagerly waiting for him.
"Asshole." you mutter to yourself, only to overhear the girls as they begin examining their photo and giggling among themselves.
"Do you think he's single?" One asks.
"I hope so. I might try and shoot my shot with him if he is." Another responds, and you roll your eyes before casting a quick glance behind them, back in Noah's direction as you speak, making sure your voice is loud enough for him to potentially hear.
"I heard he ghosts girls once he gets bored of them." You look back towards the group of girls after catching Noah's head turning slightly in your direction.
"Then I'd just have to make sure he didn't get bored of me." The first girl responds.
"Good luck with that." You throw out a fake smile, catching Noah and his group of friends walking back in your direction. "Just make sure to get yourself tested if you're stupid enough to become one of his groupies."
As Noah passes by, you turn your full attention to him, speaking more to him than to the girls you're warning. "You never know where he's been."
"There you are!" You hear Sloan before she slips her arm around yours, dragging you away. Leaning in closer, she briefly glances back to the group of girls you had been standing near before asking. "Who are they?"
"Some of Noah's groupies." You make no effort to hide the annoyance in your tone, Sloan catching on and nodding.
"Right. Well, forget about them and Noah."
That had been the plan, you think, but you bite your tongue instead of letting the retort slip, following her lead through the hotel until you reach one of the restaurants serving breakfast.
"I've heard this place is great." She declares, slipping into a booth as you shuffle in on the same side next to her.
"Well after last night I could really do with a sugar rush right now." You reach for the menu, looking over the pancake options.
You pay no mind to the sudden influx of noise behind you, until you hear Sloan's voice. "Hi Jolly."
You whip your head around, almost giving yourself whiplash in the process, and see the table behind you is now occupied with the familiar sight of the Omens, Noah sitting himself on the booth which backs right onto your own.
"Oh, didn't see you there."
"Funny that." You force a grin and turn your attention back onto the menu before hearing him chime up once more.
"What are you thinking of getting? I heard the pancakes are great."
You know the question is directed to you. You can sense his presence, the heat of his gaze hovering just inches away from your shoulder as he scans the menu in your hands. In a sudden burst of energy, you slam it down onto the table, turning your head just enough to be face-to-face with him.
"Do you really have to sit here? A whole restaurant and you choose here."
"It's got the best view." A smug grin breaks out across his face.
"What?" Your voice inches a couple of octaves higher as though ready to scream at him before he draws your attention to a nearby window.
"Of the strip."
As quickly as your blood pressure has risen, it lowers again and you almost feel dizzy from it.
"I think I'm going to be sick." You mumble, turning yourself back around and leaning forward against the table, holding your head in your hands.
"Late night or something?"
He just doesn't know when to stop. Even worse is his friends don't even make an attempt to stop him or advise him to shut the fuck up.
"Not as late as you." You throw back, lifting your head and briefly glancing over your shoulder. "Besides, it's kind of hard to sleep when your neighbor is making a ruckus all night. What time did your guest slip out last night, hm? You didn't want to invite her for breakfast?"
"Guest?" Folio asks. "We didn't have anyone in our—ow!" He cuts off as you catch Noah jabbing him in the side, furrowing your brow at them.
"What can I say? She's not as high maintenance as most girls."
"By that you mean she's easy."
"Easy to please, easy to leave."
Right at that moment, a server approaches your table, completely disregarding yours and Sloan's, as she attends to the group of guys at the table next to you.
This makes you what you think is irrationally angry, until you hear Sloan mutter under her breath. "Bitch."
You have to press your lips together to prevent your laughter from escaping, and then, from behind you, you hear Noah's voice.
"They're with us too." A glance behind reveals him pointing a thumb in your direction.
Once the server has taken your orders, you hear Nicholas speak up, looking over into your booth as he asks. "We were planning on going to a laser tag place this afternoon if you want to come?"
"No."
"Yes!"
You and Sloan respond in unison, turning to look at one another as you respond with the same answers again.
Forcing a smile, you lean in as you speak under your breath to her so as not to allow any of the guys, particularly Noah who is sitting in the booth which backs against your own, to hear. "I thought this was a girls weekend."
"Are you really going to pass up an opportunity to shoot the man who broke your heart in the chest? Even if it is fake?" She argues and you contemplate it.
You can't deny the idea isn't promising, perhaps even therapeutic.
"Good point." You nod and pull back, turning your head to look over at Nicholas. "Okay, we're in."
Though you don't look, you swear from the corner of your eye, you catch a grin forming on Noah's face.
"I can't believe that you've convinced me to do this." Looking over to Sloan, you shake your head, pulling on the vest for your laser tag session before stepping up to her for help tightening it where needed.
"Would you rather be back at the hotel in the spa?" She gives you a look and you quickly cave, mumbling a 'no' under your breath.
Unlike Sloan, a spa day was hardly something you found enjoyable. You were more of an active person, and a game of laser tag, where you could potentially shoot your ex multiple times without feeling guilty or causing any harm, provided you with a much-needed form of therapy.
"Then it's settled. You're all ready." She declares and gives herself a spin for you to admire her new combat laser tag look. "How do I look? Do you think Jolly would like it?"
"I think you could wear a black bag and still pull it off." You laugh, slipping out from the changing area and back into the waiting area. "Did you really hook up with Jolly last night?"
"A girl doesn't kiss and tell." Sloan raises a hand to flip her hair back over her shoulder.
"Please, you've told me, in excruciating detail, might I add, the things that have happened pre first date between you and someone else."
"I don't know what you mean. Some of us are a little more classy than those who will give their ex-boyfriends a quick jerk off in the tour bus bunk."
You scoff, your mouth dropping open. "Jolly told you about that?!"
Stepping up to the counter, you both receive your laser guns and hold yours up in aid of your threat that follows. "He'll be the first on my hit list."
The upside to running around in the dark with only LED lights lighting the way is you have yet to actually run into your ex. The room is big enough to spread out and hide, as well as avoid crossing his path. You almost start to wonder if he's here at all until you literally run into him.
The first thing you do is raise your laser gun to him and shoot before he bursts into laughter. "We're on the same team, you goof."
You look at the target lights on his vest and then the ones on your own, seeing they're in fact both red. "Fuck you." You grumble and attempt to shoot him again, though it causes no damage.
"You really want to shoot me that badly, huh?"
'Oh, you have no idea." Even in the dark your eyes lock dead onto his, feeling nothing but pure anger towards him.
Between his smug attitude this morning and the events you witnessed last night after banging on his door, you were more than prepared to take him down if necessary.
"Listen, about last night."
You're both standing in the open, exposed to anyone who might still be in the game. Instead of suggesting that you move, you give him the chance to explain himself, especially since you notice movement behind him when you glance over his shoulder.
"It's not what you think."
"Like I haven't heard that one before, Noah." You scoff, your gaze shifting back to him.
"I'm serious."
"I'm sure you are but unfortunately for you, I don't care." You take a step closer to him, your gun pointed at his chest once more.
"Have you not learnt that you can't do anything with that, yet?" He chortles and you gaze up at him, a wicked grin crossing your lips.
"I can't, but he can." You gesture behind his shoulder with a nod, and just as you do, Folio sneaks up behind him, firing his laser and causing him to be ejected from the game.
"How does it feel to be stabbed in the back by someone you thought you could trust?"
You're aware that he understands the metaphor here, that Folio's actions represent his own, and leaving him with a final smug grin, you dash to one of the dimly lit corners of the spacious room to complete the remainder of the round with the few of you who remain.
Although your team technically loses, it feels like a victory for you because it means Noah has lost. Considering his reputation as a sore loser, you find amusement in watching him sulk as you finally exit the laser tag arena.
Tagged: @fadingangelwisp @blade-dressed-in-red @deathblacksmoke @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @ichoosetenderomens @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @Chey-h @halfalgorithmhafdeity @annthepenguin @samanthasgone
#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fic#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfic#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian x reader#concretejunglefm fics#Spotify
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Title: Lose Yourself (To Love)
Marshall "Eminem" Mathers sat in the dimly lit booth of a downtown Detroit nightclub, his eyes fixated on the scene across the room. His girlfriend, you, stood near the bar, laughing at something a rival rapper, Jace, had said. Jace leaned in closer, his hand brushing your arm. Eminem's jaw clenched.
He knew you were his. You loved him, and he loved you. But seeing Jace making a move on you ignited a fire in him that he couldn't ignore. The way Jace's eyes lingered on you, the way he smiled—it was all too much.
"Yo, you good?" Proof asked, nudging him from across the table.
Marshall tore his gaze away, nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'm good."
But he wasn't. His mind raced with a mix of anger and insecurity. You had been with him through thick and thin, through the highs of his career and the lows of his personal life. You were his rock, the one constant in a world that often felt like it was spinning out of control.
He couldn't let someone like Jace, with his smooth lines and flashy persona, think he had a chance with you. Eminem stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He strode across the room, ignoring the curious glances from the club's patrons.
"Y/N/N," he said, his voice low but firm. You turned, her eyes lighting up when you saw him.
"Hey, babe," you greeted, leaning in to kiss him. Your lips were soft, familiar, grounding.
Jace straightened, a smug grin on his face. "Yo, Em, we were just talking—"
"I know what you were doing," Marshall cut him off, his eyes narrowing. "And it's over."
Jace raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, man. No harm done."
Eminem ignored him, focusing on you. "Can we talk?"
You nodded, sensing the tension. He led you out of the club, the cold night air a stark contrast to the heated emotions swirling inside him.
You walked in silence for a few moments before Eminem stopped, turning to face her. "Y/N/N, I know this might seem out of nowhere, but I can't stand the thought of anyone else even thinking they have a chance with you."
You frowned, confused. "Marshall, what are you—"
"I love you," he interrupted, his eyes intense. "And I know I don't always show it the right way, but I need you to know that. You're my everything. And I can't let someone like Jace or anyone else think they can come between us."
Your expression softened, your eyes glistening. "I love you too, Marshall."
He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "Marry me."
Your eyes widened in shock. "What?"
"I know it's sudden, but I mean it. Marry me, Y/N. Be mine forever."
Tears spilled over your cheeks as you smiled. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
Relief and joy washed over Marshal as he pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply. The city lights twinkled around them, but in that moment, you were the only two people in the world.
As you held each other, Marshall knew he'd made the right choice. He wouldn't lose himself to jealousy or insecurity. He'd found his anchor, his reason to keep going, and he wasn't letting go.
Ever.
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In Search of Kindred Spirits - Chapter 3
Hi folks, welcome back for chapter 3 of In Search of Kindred Spirits. We have one more chapter after this to go! I don't have much to say on this chapter other than here we get to see Danny's search through the zone. But have fun everyone, and as always feedback is welcome!
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The Ghost Zone stretched infinitely in every direction, an otherworldly expanse of swirling green mist, floating islands, and jagged portals that flickered like torn seams in reality. Rivers of shimmering ectoplasm wound their way through the void, glowing faintly as they meandered past bizarre, gravity-defying landscapes. It was a place of eerie beauty, alive with strange whispers and the occasional flicker of ghostly figures darting between dimensions. Yet its vastness was daunting—so endless that even Danny, who had spent countless hours navigating its labyrinthine reaches, often felt like a single drop in an infinite ocean.
Jason wasn’t here. At least, not in the places Danny thought he would be.
The search was proving longer and more grueling than Danny had anticipated. Six months had passed since Jason had vanished, six months of tirelessly scouring the Ghost Zone’s countless nooks and crannies. Danny had questioned every ghost he encountered, chasing cryptic hints and fragmented tales that inevitably dissolved into dead ends. He had dived headfirst into unstable portals, braved spectral storms, and crossed paths with some of the Zone's most notorious denizens—all in pursuit of a lead, a sign, anything to guide him to Jason.
The weight of his task was beginning to press down on him. The Ghost Zone was infinite, unpredictable, and dangerous. Doubt whispered insidiously in the back of his mind, asking questions he didn’t want to face: What if Jason doesn’t want to be found? What if he’s gone for good? But Danny shook those thoughts off as quickly as they came.
He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t give up. Jason had been there for him when no one else had, standing by his side in the moments that mattered most. Danny had made a promise—not just to Jason, but to himself. No matter how vast or treacherous the Ghost Zone might be, he wouldn’t let him down.
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The first lead had come from Skulker, the self-proclaimed ghost hunter who seemed to delight in crossing paths with Danny. This time, he was lurking near a swirling vortex of green energy that looked suspiciously like a trap.
“Looking for someone, whelp?” Skulker had asked, his tone laced with mocking amusement.
Danny dodged the green net Skulker flung at him with practiced ease, his glare sharp. “None of your business, tin can.”
Skulker grinned, his predatory smile revealing rows of jagged teeth. “Oh, but it is my business. Word travels fast in the Zone, Phantom. I hear you’ve been scouring, chasing after a wayward soul. Someone… human?”
The accusation made Danny freeze mid-air. He masked his surprise with a glare. “What do you know?”
Skulker’s glowing eyes narrowed, glinting with a mix of menace and amusement. “More than you, it seems,” he drawled. “But let me offer a morsel of advice: tread carefully. The Ghost Zone holds many secrets, and not all who perish find their way here. Some fates…” His voice dipped lower, almost reverent, “are stranger than even you can imagine.”
Danny’s stomach tightened. The weight of Skulker’s words settled heavily in his chest, but before he could press for more, Skulker vanished into the swirling void, leaving Danny alone with his thoughts and a growing sense of unease.
It was the first time Danny truly questioned the foundation of his search. What if Jason wasn’t in the Ghost Zone at all? The possibility hit him like a punch to the gut. Every lead he had followed, every corner of the Zone he had searched, might have been for nothing. And worse—what if Skulker was right? What if Jason’s fate was something Danny couldn’t even begin to understand? -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Months slipped by, and Danny’s search grew increasingly desperate. He ventured deeper into the Ghost Zone, navigating its most treacherous and mysterious regions—places he had once considered nothing more than ghostly folklore. He braved the Valley of the Lost, a desolate expanse where wandering souls cried out in anguish for memories that had long faded, their voices hauntingly hollow. He ventured into the Obsidian Flats, a strange void where time and space twisted in impossible ways, folding in on themselves like a cruel labyrinth.
Everywhere he went, Danny asked the same question: “Have you seen a soul named Jason Todd?”
The responses were as maddening as they were unhelpful. Some ghosts sneered at him, their laughter echoing mockingly through the void. Others offered cryptic riddles that left Danny more frustrated than before.
“You search for one who is neither living nor dead,” Nocturn, the ghost of dreams and shadows, told him one night. His voice was smooth and ominous, like silk sliding over a blade. “Much like yourself, but also not. Such souls are rare, Phantom. If he is not here, then perhaps he lingers… somewhere in between.”
Danny’s frustration bubbled over. “In between what?” he demanded, his voice cracking with urgency.
Nocturn smiled faintly, the gleam of his teeth visible even in the dim light of the Zone. “That is the question, isn’t it?” he mused before vanishing into a swirl of dark mist, leaving Danny alone with his thoughts.
Nocturn’s words gnawed at Danny. What did “in between” even mean? The Ghost Zone was supposed to be the final destination for souls caught between life and death. If Jason wasn’t here, then where was he? And worse—what if Danny’s search was destined to lead him nowhere? -------------------------------------------------------------------------
It wasn’t until Danny visited Clockwork that he finally got some clarity—though, as with most things involving the Master of Time, the answers came wrapped in riddles.
Clockwork floated serenely in the center of his lair, his current form that of an aged man draped in flowing robes. The constant ticking and whirring of countless clocks filled the air, a reminder of time’s relentless march. Danny stood before him, fists clenched tightly at his sides, his desperation barely contained.
“Clockwork, I need your help,” Danny said, his voice steady but pleading. “I’m looking for someone. His name is Jason Todd.”
Clockwork’s glowing red eyes shifted toward him, calm and unblinking. “Ah, Jason Todd,” he said, his tone almost wistful. “The boy who died but did not pass on. I wondered when you would finally come to me.”
Danny’s breath hitched. “So… he’s alive?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Clockwork replied, gesturing to a swirling portal that appeared beside him. Within its depths, images began to form—flashes of Jason’s life. Danny saw Jason’s brutal death at the hands of the Joker, the quiet stillness of his grave, and then the violent churn of a bubbling green pit. The scene shifted to Jason clawing his way out, his body trembling, his eyes wild and filled with rage.
“What is this?” Danny whispered, his voice barely audible over the rhythmic ticking.
“The Lazarus Pit,” Clockwork explained, his voice carrying the weight of ages. “A pool of ancient, corrupted ectoplasmic energy capable of dragging souls back from the brink of death. But its gifts are not without consequence.”
Danny watched, his stomach twisting, as the portal revealed Jason’s transformation. Gone was the boy Danny had known, replaced by someone colder, angrier—haunted.
“He’s alive,” Danny murmured, a mix of relief and dread coursing through him. “But… why hasn’t he come back? Why didn’t he tell anyone?”
Clockwork’s expression remained impassive, though there was a flicker of something—pity, perhaps—in his gaze. “Because the Pit does not give without taking. It warps the soul, twists it into something new. Jason Todd may walk among the living, but he is not the same as he once was.”
“No,” Danny said firmly, shaking his head. “That’s not true. Jason is still… Jason. I know he is.”
Clockwork’s voice softened, though his tone remained measured. “Perhaps. But the boy you seek is no longer in the Ghost Zone. He resides in the world of the living now, much like you—a soul caught between what was and what is.”
Danny’s mind raced. If Jason was alive, then there was still hope. Yet the images of the Lazarus Pit and Jason’s pained expression lingered, filling Danny with unease. Somewhere out there, Jason was waiting to be found—but he might not be the same person Danny remembered.
The questions swirled in Danny’s mind, heavier than the Ghost Zone’s silence. But one thing was clear: his search wasn’t over. Not yet. --------------------------------------------------------------------------
Danny returned to the human world a changed person. He’d grown stronger, his powers sharper and more refined. But he’d also grown more determined. He couldn’t let Jason’s memory—or the hope that he might still be out there—fade into the background. So Danny turned back to the letters, remembering the city that began it all.
“Gotham,” Danny murmured, holding the letter in his hands. The city that had taken Jason from him. The city that might still hold the answers he was looking for. --------------------------------------------------------------------------
Moving to Gotham felt like stepping back in time. The city was just as grimy, chaotic, and dangerous as Danny remembered. But this time, he wasn’t a scared little kid clinging to Jason for protection.
This time, he was Phantom.
Danny took to patrolling the streets at night, his white hair and glowing green eyes making him a ghostly blur in the shadows. Gotham’s criminals were ruthless, but so was he. Phantom became a whispered legend among the city’s underworld—a vigilante who moved like a ghost and struck like a storm.
But for all his heroics, Danny’s true mission remained the same: find Jason Todd. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On one particular night after months in the city, as Danny hovered above Gotham’s rooftops, scanning the streets below, he spotted something unusual. A group of armed men was unloading crates from a truck, their movements tense and hurried.
Danny narrowed his eyes. Smugglers, probably. He swooped down, his ectoblasts glowing in his hands.
“Alright, boys,” he called, his voice echoing eerily. “Drop the weapons, or I’ll make you drop them myself.”
The men froze, their eyes widening at the sight of him.
“What the hell—?” one of them started, but before he could finish, a gunshot rang out.
Danny dodged effortlessly, phasing through the bullet like it was nothing. He smirked. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”
Before he could strike, a second figure appeared, dropping into the fray like a shadow.
Danny’s breath caught.
The newcomer was clad in black and red, a helmet obscuring his face. He moved with brutal efficiency, taking down the smugglers one by one with a combination of gunfire and hand-to-hand combat.
Danny watched, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t need to see the man’s face to know who it was.
“Jason,” he whispered.
The Red Hood turned, his posture stiffening as he noticed Danny hovering above him.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the air between them heavy with unspoken words.
Danny felt a lump form in his throat. After three long years, he’d finally found him.
“Jason,” he said again, louder this time.
The Red Hood tilted his head, his voice cold and unfamiliar. “Who’s asking?”
#dpxdc#dc x dp#danny phantom#danny fenton#jason todd#red hood#fanfic#chapter 3 update#platonic dead on main
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Coming soon for the @destielaureversebb: “The Spirit of Radio”
Author: sidewinder @hawkland Artist: @mercurialkitty
Rating: Explicit Archive warnings: None Length: 25,000 words Tags: Radio Station AU, Disc Jockey Dean, Angels Are Dicks (Even When They're Not Angels), Angst, Classic Rock Relationships: Dean/Castiel, background Sam/Jess, Benny/Andrea
Summary:
What happens when corporate, satellite radio and a small town disc jockey collide?
Angel Radio needs a new hero. That is, they need a new DJ to anchor their classic rock channel and Dean Winchester of Sioux Falls, South Dakota just might be the man for the job. That's the directive Castiel receives from his boss, Naomi: recruit Dean to leave his small town shift at K.A.R.S. behind and move to the Los Angeles where a more lucrative career in broadcasting could await him.
But Dean's not sure he can leave his friends and found family behind—not even when Castiel shows up looking like someone who could light his fire, and the attraction is entirely mutual.
Excerpt:
Castiel took a deep breath, counted to ten, and knocked on Naomi’s cracked-open door. “Come in,” she called, followed immediately by, “Castiel, you’re late.”
“I know and I apologize. Traffic this morning was—”
“—It doesn’t matter,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “In fact, neither does today’s planned agenda.”
“Oh?” His stomach twisted as he put Hannah’s stack of files down on the meeting desk. He wondered if his tardiness was some kind of last straw, and now his job was on the line.
But Naomi didn’t look displeased, for once. If anything there was a glimmer of excitement breaking through her typical cold gaze as she handed him a portfolio and said, “I need you to take the ticket in there and get on a flight to Sioux Falls this evening.”
Castiel blinked in confusion. “Sioux Falls? What for?”
“As I’m sure you’re aware, we need some new talent to boost our failing channels, or else it’s time to pull the plug on them completely. Try something new. Our classic rock station, for instance, has been struggling all year since Raphael was poached by Crowley Media.”
“I know, and none of our temporary replacements have panned out.” Crowley Media was their biggest competitor in the satellite radio industry, and their coup offering Raphael a far better deal than they could ever manage had thrown everything—and everyone—in a tizzy.
“Until now—or at least, that is my hope. Ambriel, over in our research department, tells me she’s been hearing great things about a fresh voice coming out of a small, local station in Sioux Falls South Dakota. A DJ by the name of Dean Winchester. He plays classic rock mixed with—of all things—automobile discussion. Ambriel says it’s like ‘Car Talk’ only with music—and a handsome young face. We could market his face and that midwestern charm into something big.”
Posting date: March 17, 2025
#destiel au reverse big bang#promo post#destiel fic#destiel art#author: sidewinder#artist: mercurialkitty
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Fractured Bonds
Kirishima x Traitor!Reader
Summary: years passed since UA, you were one of the traitors. How do your old friends react seeing you again? Especially the one you cared the most, Kirishima.
Warning: none!!
Masterlist
You told yourself it was a mistake to return, but a part of you couldn’t stay away. This place still held fragments of your past, pieces of a life where you were loved, trusted, and full of hope.
Your steps faltered when you caught sight of three figures up ahead. Bright blond spikes, crimson hair, and a familiar mix of white and red. Your heart plummeted.
No.
It was them—Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima.
Panic surge in your chest, but it was too late to turn back. Kirishima’s sharp eyes caught yours first. His expression shifted, disbelief and recognition flickering across his face.
“y/n…?”
Bakugo turned sharply at the name, his crimson eyes narrowing. “What the hell?”
Todoroki’s gaze followed theirs, his face calm but his body tense.
You froze under their stares, a lump forming in your throat. The years apart hadn’t dulled your memories of them—especially not Kirishima. His eyes, softer than you remembered, seemed to bore into your very soul.
“Why are you here?” Kirishima’s voice is quiet, but there’s a hint of something beneath it—hope, maybe. Or hurt.
“I didn’t mean to run into you,” you say quickly, your voice steady despite the tremble in your hands. “I was just passing through.”
“Passing through?” Bakugo snapped, stepping closer. “You’ve got some damn nerve showing your face here after what you pulled!”
His words stung, but you can’t blame him. You had been one of his closest friends back at UA, someone he trusted, someone who had his back during the hardest moments of his life. And then you betrayed him.
“I didn’t have a choice,” you mutter, your gaze dropping to the ground.
“Bullshit,” Bakugo snaps. “You chose them. You chose to side with those bastards.”
“I chose to survive,” you shot back, your voice rising. “Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to be part of the League?!”
The words hung in the air, heavy and raw.
Kirishima’s brows furrow, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Then why?”
You hesitate, the memories flooding back like a tidal wave. “Because of Dabi.”
The name makes Todoroki’s jaw tighten, but you ignore him.
“He… he saved me,” you continue, your voice quieter now. “When I was at my lowest, when I had no one else, he pulled me out of that darkness. He became my family when I didn’t have one. But I never wanted to be like the rest of them. I always wanted to be a hero.”
Bakugo scoffed, but his anger seems to waver. “So what, you’re some tragic case now? That doesn’t change what you did”
“I know it doesn’t” you say, meeting his gaze “I know I can’t take back what happened. But I didn’t betray you because I wanted to. I did it because I didn’t see another way.”
Kirishima steps forward, his crimson eyes filled with something you can’t name “And now? What are you doing now?”
You hesitate, your hands balling into fists at your sides “I’ve been trying to make up for it. I’ve been stopping what’s left of the League from causing more damage. That’s all I can do.”
Todoroki finally speaks, his voice calm but with an edge of guilt “You’re still angry at my family.”
It wasn’t a question—he already knew.
The mention of the Todoroki family made your blood boil. You turned to him, your glare sharp.
Your glare sharpened, your hands clenching at your sides. “Of course I’m angry. Your father broke him. He destroyed him, and none of you stopped it. Dabi loved you, Shoto. He wanted to be part of your life, and he burned for it—literally. And all of you just stood by and let it happen.”
Todoroki’s face remained stoic, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes.
“I’ve heard that before,” he said quietly “And I’m sorry. For everything.”
The apology caught you off guard, but you don’t respond. You turn back to Kirishima, who is watching you with an expression you can’t read.
“I didn’t come here to argue,” you say finally, your voice softer now. “I just… I needed to see this place again. To remember what it felt like to have a chance at being normal.”
Kirishima takes another step closer, his voice gentle “You still have that chance, y/n. It’s not too late to come back.”
Your breath stops at his words, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine it. A life where you could be with him, where you could be a hero like you had always dreamed.
But reality comes crashing back, and you shake your head “It’s too late for me, Kirishima. You deserve better”
His eyes widen, pain flickering across his face. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
Before you can respond, Bakugo cuts in. “Enough with this crap. If you’re serious about making up for what you did, prove it. Stop running, and face what you left behind.”
You look between the three of them, your heart aching. You want to believe it was possible, that you can still find a way back. But the scars of your past still feel too deep.
“I’ll think about it” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
And with that, you turn and disappear into the night, leaving Kirishima and the others behind. But as you walk away, you can’t ignore the warmth that linger in your chest from Kirishima’s words—nor the hope that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t too late.
#bnha#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x y/n#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha#mha x reader#mha x you#mha x y/n#kirishima#mha kirishima#kirishima eijirou#kirishima x reader#Kirishima x traitor!reader#bnha traitor!reader#kirishima fanfic#bnha imagines#bnha fanfiction#bnha reaction#bnha scenarios#kirishima scenarios
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Jealousy||Liam Mairi x fem!reader
Smut p in v
Not edited so this probably sucks ass💀
I did post this on my old account that got deleted a while back
“Have you ever thought about telling them how you feel instead of, you know, telling us about it?" Violet said from beside you as if it was obvious. The two of you had stopped your training to ogle at her boyfriend Xaden and his best friend Liam.
“ Um, no, because I don’t want to embarrass myself and I’d rather fangirl over him from a distance.” You countered sarcastically, wincing as Xaden landed a blow to Liam’s ribs.
"That has to hurt," you thought to yourself.
"I’m not sure he’d take me seriously anyway,” you added as Liam stumbled backward, catching himself before falling off the ledge.
Violet rolled her eyes at you. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, “You’re beautiful, smart, and fiercely intelligent.” Her words were sweet, but you couldn’t push away the negative thoughts.
"Yeah, well, he’d probably find me annoying. Besides, even if he does like me, I doubt he’d ever make a move.”
Violet sighed, shaking her head. "You shouldn’t speak so negatively about yourself," she scolded. "Xaden sees how great you are, and so does Liam."
Your heart skipped a beat as butterflies fluttered within you. "Wait, your grumpy hater of a boyfriend thinks I’m amazing?" you asked, not daring to get your hopes up.
Violet chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, he does," she confirmed. "He’s always been observant, even when you don’t think he is. And he notices how sweet and good you are for Liam."
Your cheeks flushed at her words. It was one thing for Xaden to think positively of you, but Liam too? The feelings within you grew stronger by the second.
Your heart began racing, but you tried your best to act indifferent at the suggestion. "yeah, and how am I supposed to do that?" you asked, your voice rising a few octaves.
Violet smirked. "There’s always the direct approach," she suggested. “Or," she continued, her smile growing wider, "I have an even better idea." You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh, yeah?" You inquired, not knowing if you should trust her. "And what might that be?"
She leaned in closer, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Why don’t you and I make him jealous?" Your heart skipped a beat. Making Liam jealous sounded like a dangerous game. “What do you mean?” you asked a mix of excitement and worry coursing through you.
“Well,” Violet explained, “If Liam sees you with other guys, he might realize what he’s been missing and finally make a move.”
You bit your lip, unsure if you should go along with her plan. “But what if that just drives him further away?” you voiced your concern, “I don’t want to lose his friendship completely.”
Violet put her hand on your shoulder, reassuring you. “Trust me, you won’t. Men are competitive by nature. If he sees you giving attention to someone else, it’ll ignite something within him.”
You thought it over for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “Alright,” you conceded, “But if this blows up in my face, you’re the one responsible.”
Violet grinned triumphantly and patted your back. “Don’t worry, everything will go according to plan.”
Over the next few days, you found yourself spending more time with other male cadets. You sat with them during meals, trained with them, and even laughed at their jokes.
Every time Liam was around, you could feel his gaze on you, but you acted as if you didn't notice.
Each time you smiled or laughed with another guy, you could see the flicker of jealousy in Liam’s eyes, just like Violet said.
One night at dinner, you sat with a group of male cadets. They all seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of Liam’s steely glare from across the room.
As you continued to chat with them, you felt a presence behind you, and a shadow loomed over the table. You turned around to find Liam standing there, the muscles in his jaw clenched. The table grew silent as everyone waited to see what would happen next. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure, but your heart was racing.
Liam leaned down, his face just inches away from your ear. "Can I talk to you?" he asked, his voice gruff. You nodded hesitantly, feeling the intense gaze of everyone at the table.
Liam took your hand and led you away from the group, away from the curious gazes and hushed whispers. He didn't stop walking until he'd taken you far enough away from the others, to a quiet corner of the dining room where you were alone.
Finally, he let go of your hand and turned to face you, his expression serious. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked bluntly.
You feigned innocence, even though deep down you knew exactly what he was talking about. "What do you mean?" you asked, trying to keep your voice even. Liam scoffed and stepped forward, closing the distance between you. "Don’t play coy with me," he said, his voice low. "You've been spending all your time with random guys, laughing and joking with them." You clenched your hands into fists, the mix of emotions inside you growing overwhelming. "And if I have?” you asked, trying to sound defiant. "It's not like you're my boyfriend or anything.”
A flash of hurt crossed Liam's face, but he quickly hid it behind his usual stoic expression. "You're right, I'm not your boyfriend," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. "But that doesn’t mean I like seeing you with other guys." Your heart skipped a beat at his words. So Violet was right, Liam was jealous.
You stared at him, unsure of what to say. Part of you wanted to tell him the truth, that it was all a ploy to make him jealous, but then again, what if he didn’t believe you? What if he thought you were just playing games? As the silence stretched between the two of you, Liam ran a hand through his messy hair, his frustration evident. "Why are you suddenly spending so much time with other guys anyway?" he asked, his eyes never leaving yours.
You swallowed, feeling the weight of his question. You couldn't tell him the truth, not yet. So, you said the first thing that came to mind. "I just wanted some male attention, I guess," you replied nonchalantly, even though your heart was pounding. Liam's gaze darkened at your words, his jaw tightening. "Male attention, huh?" he repeated, his tone laced with sarcasm. "And you couldn't get that from me? You had to go to every other guy?"
You winced at the hurt in his voice, hating that you were causing him pain. But you couldn't back down now. "Yeah, well, it's not like you've ever shown any interest in me," you retorted, "At least the other guys give me attention."
Liam’s eyes narrowed, the hurt in his gaze replaced by anger. "Are you serious right now?" he asked, taking a step forward. "You think I haven't shown any interest in you? Maybe I was just trying to be respectful, not wanting to overstep my bounds." You swallowed hard, the guilt building inside of you. You knew he had a point, but you couldn’t back down now. "How was I supposed to know that?” you challenged. "You never say anything, you keep to yourself all the time. I thought you didn't care."
Liam gritted his teeth. "Just because I'm not always the most outspoken guy doesn't mean I don't care," he snapped. "I care more than you think. But seeing you with all these other guys has been... torture, for lack of better words."
You faltered, the hurt in his voice finally cracking your resolve. You didn't want to hurt him, that was the last thing you wanted.
"So, you… you do care about me?" you asked timidly, barely above a whisper. Liam let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair again. "Of course, I care about you, you idiot," he snapped. "More than you could ever imagine."
Your heart leaped at his words, a feeling of both relief and confusion washing over you. "Then why didn't you say something sooner?" you asked, your voice laced with a hint of irritation. Liam's shoulders slumped, the anger leaving him. "Because I didn't think you felt the same way," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I didn't want to risk losing your friendship if things went sour."
Your heart ached at his confession. You were both such idiots, dancing around each other for so long.
"Liam," you said softly, stepping closer to him. "I've been spending time with other guys because I wanted to make you jealous. I wanted to see if you cared.”
Liam's eyes widened in surprise. "You... you did that on purpose?" he asked, his voice a mixture of shock and resignation. You nodded, feeling a sense of relief now that the truth was out. "I know it was a dumb move," you admitted, "but I didn't know how else to get your attention. I was tired of waiting for you to make a move if you ever would at all."
Liam let out a huff of frustration. "You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?" he said, a hint of humor in his voice.
He stepped closer to you, his eyes locked on yours. "If you wanted my attention, you could have just asked." Your heart fluttered as he closed the gap between you. "Yeah, well, you could have said something too," you retorted, not wanting to give up your stance completely.
Liam chuckled, his expression softening. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “But I guess we were both too stubborn to admit how we felt.” You smiled, feeling the tension between the two of you ease.
"So… does this mean you’re not mad at me for being an idiot?" you asked, half joking, half serious. Liam chuckled and shook his head. "I am mad at you," he said, feigning annoyance. "But I guess I can understand why you did what you did.”
He paused for a moment, his expression turning serious. “But I do have one question I’m dying to ask you.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah? What’s that?” you asked, trying not to show how nervous you were. Liam stepped closer, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. He looked down at you, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of desire and vulnerability.
"I just want to know one thing," he said, his voice low. "Do you have feelings for me? Honest answer, no games." A wave of emotion washed over you as you stared into his intense gaze. You took a deep breath, letting the facade fall away completely.
"Yes," you said without hesitation. "I have feelings for you. Strong ones. I have for a long time." Relief and joy washed over his face. He reached out to touch your face, his hand cradling your cheek. "Good," he whispered, his thumb tracing patterns on your skin. "Because I have feelings for you too. Stronger than you can even imagine." You shivered at his touch, feeling a rush of electricity course through you. "So, what do we do now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are we… Are we together now?" Liam smiled, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah," he said, his voice confident. "We're together now. It's about damn time if you ask me." He leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours. "May I?" he asked, his breath warm on your skin.
You nodded, your heart racing in anticipation. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice almost a whisper.
Liam didn’t need any more encouragement. He closed the remaining distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a deep kiss. The world seemed to fall away as you melted into the kiss, the sensation of his lips on yours setting your soul on fire. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to feel as much of him as you could.
Liam's hands moved to your waist, his fingers digging into your hips. He deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth. You granted his silent request, opening your mouth to him. Your bodies pressed against each other, the heat and hunger of the moment taking over completely.
Liam pressed you against the wall, his body trapping you most delightfully. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. You let out a gasp, feeling a wave of pleasure coursing through you as Liam continued his assault on your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close, needing more of him.
He continued to kiss and nip at your skin, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch. You felt his body pressed against yours, the hard planes of his muscles molding to your curves. Liam's lips returned to yours, his kisses becoming more urgent, more demanding. You met his kisses with equal fervor, your desire for him growing with every passing second.
You felt his hands move under your shirt, his palms exploring your skin with a desperate touch. You shivered at the sensation, arching your back, and letting out a soft moan. Liam grinned into the kiss, his hands splaying across your stomach, sending a shiver through you. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with desire.
He pushed your shirt up, his hands roaming over your bare skin, igniting a trail of fire wherever they touched. You gasped, your body arching into his touch. You wanted, needed more of him. You tugged at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against yours.
Liam understood your silent request, breaking the kiss long enough to pull his shirt over his head. The sight of his bare chest, the muscles rippling under his skin, made your breath hitch. You reached out, your hands tracing over the ridges of his abs, feeling the heat radiating off of him. Liam let out a small gasp as your fingers explored his body, and he captured your lips in another fiery kiss.
His hands moved back under your shirt, slowly inching it higher and higher up your torso. You broke the kiss, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside, not wanting any barriers between you. Liam's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his gaze roaming over your now-bare skin.
He stepped closer, his body pressed against yours again, his hands roaming over your back, pulling you flush against him. You shivered at the feeling of his skin on yours, the heat from his body seeping into you. You ran your hands over his broad shoulders, relishing the feeling of his muscles flexing under your touch.
Liam's lips found their way back to your neck, his kisses becoming more insistent, his teeth nipping at your skin. His hand moved to your hip, holding you close to him as he continued his assault on your neck. You tilted your head back, giving him more access, feeling his lips and teeth graze your collarbone.
A moan escaped your lips as his other hand moved to your lower back, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through you. Liam's mouth moved to your ear, and his breath was hot as he whispered, "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
He nipped at your ear, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. You shivered, feeling a wave of heat wash over you, pooling in your core. You grabbed his hips, pulling him closer, wanting to feel more of him against you. You were lost in the sensations he was stirring in you, your mind a haze of pleasure and desire.
Liam's hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you, claiming you as his. His body pressed you harder against the wall, his hardness against your thigh making you gasp. You couldn't take it any longer. You needed more, you needed him. You reached down, your fingers seeking the button on his jeans.
Liam pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes clouded with lust. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough and ragged. You nodded, your body quivering with need. "Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Liam."
Liam didn't need any more encouragement. He crushed his lips to yours, his kisses searing your skin as his hands fumbled with the button of his jeans. You helped him with the button, your hands shaking slightly with anticipation. You pushed the jeans down his hips, reveling in the feel of his body pressed against yours.
He picked you up, wrapping your legs around his hips. Your back was against the wall, and he held you there with ease.
You could feel his hardness pressing against you, the need in his eyes matching your own. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he continued to claim your mouth in a frenzied kiss.
Liam stepped out of the jeans, his hands roaming over your body once more, leaving a trail of heat wherever he touched. "I want you," he growled against your lips, his voice guttural with need. "I need you."
He shifted his hips, aligning himself with your core. You gasped as his hardness brushed against your sensitive flesh, Your body arched into him, your mind a haze of pleasure and desire. You wanted, no, needed him inside you, wanted to feel him completely.
Liam groaned as your body pressed against him, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Are you ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and gruff. You could only nod in response, your body tingling with anticipation. "Please," you breathed, your voice shaky with need. "Please, Liam. I need you."
He didn't need any more encouragement. He shifted his hips, positioning himself at your entrance, his tip teasingly pushing against your core. He held you there for a moment, savoring the feeling of having you so close, so close to where he wanted you most.
Then, with one smooth motion, he entered you, filling you. A cry escaped your lips as he stretched and filled you, your body arching into him.
Liam groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. "God," he gasped, his voice ragged. "You feel so Good, so good."
He began to move, his hips rocking against yours, each thrust drawing a moan from your lips. You held onto him tightly, your body molded to his, feeling the heat and energy building between you.
Liam's mouth found yours again, his kiss consuming you, his tongue delving into your mouth. "You're mine," he whispered against your lips. "You're mine, and only mine." You could only nod in agreement, your body lost in the sensations he was stirring in you. Every thrust, every touch, every kiss sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building and building to a crest you knew was approaching.
Liam's pace quickened, his hips moving more urgently against yours. His hands held you there against the wall, his touch possessive, his need for you overwhelming.
You were both lost in the moment, consumed by the sensations and emotions that were building between you. You felt yourself climbing higher and higher, teetering on the edge of release. Liam was close too, his breaths ragged, his body tensing, his grip on you tight, almost bruising.
He looked into your eyes, his gaze intense and feral. "I'm close," he gasped, his voice strained. "Are you with me, baby?" You nodded your body on the verge of collapse. "Yes," you managed to breathe, your voice wavering. "Yes, I'm close. Please, Liam, don't stop."
Liam didn't stop. He kept his pace, his thrusts deep and powerful as you both approached the edge, the pleasure building and building, Liam's kiss became more urgent, more demanding. His hands gripped you tighter, holding you there as he drove you higher and higher. And then, with a cry, you fell over the edge. Your body convulsed as the release washed over you, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you Liam followed you into bliss with a deep, guttural groan. His body tensed his grip on you nearly bruising as he found his release.
You both stayed there for a moment, catching your breaths, trying to come back down from the high. Liam's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "That was…" he panted, his voice trailing off, unable to find the words. "That was... incredible." You could only nod in agreement, still feeling the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your body. You leaned your forehead against his chest, feeling his heart pounding against your skin.
Liam wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against him, his body still shaking slightly from the intensity of the moment. "You're amazing," he murmured, his lips against your hair. "Amazing." You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the pleasure you'd just experienced. You felt safe, cared for, treasured.
"You're not so bad yourself," you teased, looking up at him with a smile. Liam chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. He looked down at you, his eyes soft, his usual cockiness replaced with something gentler, something more vulnerable.
"I think I may have just found my new favorite activity," he said, his lips curving into a lazy grin. "Oh, shut up," you said, rolling your eyes, though you couldn't hide your smile.
Liam chuckled again, his hands coming up to cup your face, his thumbs tracing patterns on your cheeks. "In all seriousness, though," he said, his voice quiet, "that was incredible."
"Agreed," you said, your voice soft. You leaned into his touch, relishing the feeling of his hands on you.
"But," you added, a mischievous gleam in your eye, "we should probably move from the wall before my legs give out entirely." Liam laughed and nodded. He scooped you up easily, carrying you over to the bed and gently laying you down.
He crawled onto the bed, flopping down beside you, his body pressed against yours. "That's much better," he said, slinging an arm around your waist. You both lay there in silence for a moment, the sound of your breathing the only noise in the room. You turned onto your side, curling into him, your head nestled against his chest.
Liam's arms encircled you, pulling you close, his chin resting on top of your head. "I can't believe this is real," he murmured, his voice a whisper.
You could feel the steady thump of his heart under your ear, the rhythm soothing and reassuring. "It is," you replied, your voice just as soft. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." "Good," Liam said, pulling you even closer. "Because you're mine now."
His words were possessive, but there was no denying the tenderness in his voice, the vulnerability behind the bravado. You smiled, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You were happy, yes, but there was also a hint of anxiety, a worry that this newfound happiness was too good to be true.
But as you lay there, wrapped in Liam's arms, feeling his heart beating steadily beneath your ear, you knew that you wanted this, wanted him, more than anything.
#fourth wing x reader#iron flame x reader#iron flame#fourth wing#liam mairi#liam mairi x reader#liam mairi x y/n#Liam mairi smut#fourth wing smut#iron flame smut#fourth wing fanfic
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Jealous Husk
Husk would find himself feeling a sense of jealousy and possessiveness when he saw you interacting with others, especially other men. he would try to keep his feelings to himself, but sometimes he would slip up and make a snide comment or glare at someone who was talking to you. deep down, he knew that he was being irrational and possessive, but he couldn't help it. he would watch you every chance he got, trying to make sure that you were never out of his sight. he secretly longed to be the only one in your life, and the thought of you being interested in anyone else drove him insane.
He watched with jealousy as you interacted with another patron of the hotel, his mind filling with irrational thoughts of possession and desire. He gripped his glass tightly, his knuckles turning white. His jaw clenches as he sees you laugh and smile at the other customer, a strange and unfamiliar feeling growing inside of him. He takes a long sip of his whiskey and scowls, trying to mask his jealousy with a sarcastic comment "Well, aren't you just the life of the party.." The jealousy of Husk seeing you laughing and talking to another patron of the Hotel grows with each word the client spoke. With each laugh, he felt a twinge of annoyance and possessiveness, a feeling he has never felt before. As he watches you interact with the client, he can't help but feel a mixture of anger and desire. He wants to grab you and claim you as his own, to make sure that you are only his. But he knows he can't, he promised so he bites back his anger and takes another sip of whiskey. "You have such a pretty laugh." He mumbles to himself. His mind continues to conjure up images of different situations in which he would be the one making you laugh, the one making you smile. He can't stand the thought of another person being the one to bring out your laugh, it should be him. He downs the rest of his whiskey in one go, the jealousy becoming almost overwhelming now. "..I want to be the one who makes you laugh, not them." He mutters under his breath, his eyes fixed on you and the other patron.
Jealousy coursed through his veins, the thought of you giving another person your attention, your affection, your smile, was driving him mad. He wanted to yell and scream, to make sure the world knew that you were his, but he knew he couldn't. He was an old and tired soul, one that had given up on the idea of love a long time ago. But you, you were different. You had snuck into his heart, despite his best efforts to keep you out, and now he wanted nothing more than to possess you and keep you all to himself which proved true as he quickly made his way over. He quickly makes his way over to you and the other patron, his eyes fixed on you with a possessive gaze. He stands behind you and reaches out, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. His tone is cold and firm as he addresses the other patron who had been pissing him off. "Back off."
The other patron looks at Husk with a mix of surprise and annoyance, clearly not used to being spoken to in that way. They open their mouth to respond, but Husk's firm glare silences them almost immediately. He keeps his hand on your shoulder, his grip tight and possessive. "Mine." He mutters gruffly, his eyes boring into the other patron. The other patron quickly backs off, intimidated by Husk's possessive behavior. Husk watches them go, his grip on your shoulder still firm as he turns his attention back to you. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a mixture of jealousy and longing in his gaze as he leaned down and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Sorry about that. He was getting a bit too…friendly with you." He couldn't help but feel a sense of relief now that the other patron was gone, his grip on your shoulder loosening a bit. He studied your face for a moment, his eyes roaming over your features with a mix of possessiveness and admiration. "You're mine, do you understand that?" he murmurs, his voice soft yet firm.
#husk#husk x reader#husk x you#husk x yn#yandere husk#yandere husk x reader#yandere husk x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere hazbin hotel x reader
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A small spread?
The instant Benjamin stepped into the room, his eyes bugged at not only the number of dishes, but the hefty amount. He hadn't seen such rations in months, nay, years, and arguably, never since his father hadn't been one for gluttony.
"Um..." He swallowed once, noting the uncomfortable dryness in his mouth, before he blinked distrustfully in between the plates and Jay's expectant face. "Is someone else joining us?"
Despite the stinging sensation in his...well...an area Benjamin did not wish to address in mixed company, his hunger pangs eventually overran his suspicions, and he shuffled forward before sinking down at the breakfast table. His limbs were still stiff and sore, but he ignored it in favor of picking up her strange fork. He'd never seen four tines before, but he decided it was rather advantageous.
Seeking a napkin -- or rather, whatever her flimsy excuse of one was -- Benjamin draped the odd paper over his lap and said, "When you serve in the Continental Army, Miss Morgan, you learn to never say no to any offered meal, no matter the type. At this point, I haven't had the pleasure of a home-cooked supper since..." His brow scrunched. "Last night? I don't remember what you served, but it was very strange."
Wincing from the slight throb in his head, he fumbled for the mug of coffee in front of him and took a tentative swallow. Without openly staring, he added, "I am glad to see your petticoats -- or at least, a semblance of them -- have been restored to you in the night."
“I do understand the significance of your uniform. However, it reeks of horse, sweat, and God only knows what else.” She said carefully draping the collection of his clothing over her arm. Glancing at him over her shoulder she leveled him with an unimpressed look. “Have a scrap of faith that I am not going to do anything further than clean it and hang it to dry.”
Though the fact that she would be hiding the damn thing in her own closet was a fact that he didn’t need to know. At least not for a while.
“Remember you said that in the morning.” Jayden said, leaving him to settle into bed.
Once she was certain that he would not be waking anytime soon she followed through with her mental plan.
Step 1: Getting the uniform cleaned and hidden. Which she accomplished by relying on her skills. Hanging it up on separate hangers in the shower. Her will bending the fabric to release every molecule of contamination to fall to the floor of the shower. Even going so far as to reinforce the material so it was essentially as it was when it was first made. If not a little softer. Maybe making it a touch easier to move in. The same with the rest of the clothing hse hid in the coat initially. Setting the entire outfit into a garment preservation bag instead of one of her suits. Hiding it in her closet where she would have to think much of it.
Step 2: She risked a larger bit of attention by following Beth’s instructions. Getting the essential medications at the correct doses. She would feel bad later if this got her sister in trouble. Coming back to her apartment through the same linen closet door she left in. She risked a bit more by slowing time to a near unmoving crawl. Slipping into the room and apologising the entire time as she gave him the vaccines. Pulling the sweats down just enough to get to the very top of his backside. He might be sore in the morning, but she would rather that than him keeling over in the dead of the night. Setting his clothing back she let his side as she had when she entered. Resumming time just as the door closed.
Step 3: She went to fetch the scroll so she could work at it between babysitting a man from the legitimate past. Working a deal with Jenna for the familiar to guard the only means of escape that he would have access to. The front door.
When all was said and done she followed her standard nightly routine. Setting up the coffee pot to brew in the morning. Taking her own shower after rinsing the grime from her earlier cleaning. Changing into an actual nightgown for Ben’s sake rather than her own. She wasn’t happy about it, thought it was a small price to pay for some peace. A light skin care process, as it was too late for an in depth one. Emailing her staff that she was closing the shop for a while, though assuring them that they would still get paid until she opened for business again.
~~*~~*~~
When she finally woke again it was well into the early morning hours. Quite a bit after she would normally be up and at it for the day. She followed her natural rhythm. Getting up, skipping the shower as she had taken one before bed. Grabbing a nearly oversized long robe she made her way down to the kitchen. Getting a cup of coffee and a cheese danish she had made the day before for breakfast. Rolling out her yoga mat, she finished her thirty minutes with a sluggish air. The events of the night before, still fresh in her mind.
Finally she changed into one of her looser skirts and blouse. It wasn’t the standard Ben would be used to but it was as close as she was getting. Unable to help herself she started on making breakfast. As was usual when she felt stressed, she made more than she needed to. Eggs, pancakes, toast from the same loaf she served him the evening before. Sausage patties and links, and bacon. Jams and preserves followed suit. For herself she had peach danish with her third cup of coffee, setting a fresh pot to brew for her unplanned guest. She was nearly done setting the table when she heard him call out.
“I’m out here. Breakfast is ready.”
“I didn’t know what you would want so I made a small spread.”
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The concept of Viva is pretty interesting as well- not only contrasting nicely with branch regaining his siblings, but the fact poppy Barley knew her (which I will use to further my little sister poppy train) (also king peppy, princess poppy.... using this naming convention, is Viva named similar to their other parent? ) meaning during the great escape, the three where seperated... did peppy order other to not talk abought her in his grief?
Viva makes me just as feral as the rest of the sibling crew (Trolls 3 was THE movie for emotionally unwell sibling groups fr) but like even more so because with how young she looks and how easily she clicks with Poppy...she's definitely implied to be the older sister, but she can't be THAT much older than Poppy. Meaning that when all the stuff described in the movie happened she had to have still been a kid. Which makes me wonder if another troll raised her or if it was a situation where all of the other cut-off trolls just raised Viva as a community (things I am TOTALLY using for my AU actually). And of course Viva would want to be in charge, her dad was the king. The Peppy situation also makes me think that he NEVER got over Viva disappearing. Like he never processed that grief, because if he had learned to live with it, he would've explained to his daughter he did have that she had a sister who they unfortunately lost. Which means Peppy never found a way to cope...and I guess most trolls would find it insensitive to mention Viva to the king and princess because they'd assume it's a sensitive subject. I imagine after all was said and done Poppy would actually be a little bit upset in her core, the poor girl had a sister the whole time and nobody bothered to even MENTION her, not even that she had a sister, much less her name.
#trolls#trolls 3#trolls band together#on that note...I wonder if they did have another parent?#because Guy Diamond *did* have his son on his own with no other parent implied to exist. But trolls can also have kids together...#I assume Poppy and Viva did have another parent because with how similar they look but how different they are to their dad#they have to have been a mix of him and someone else#because Poppy has his hair but in every other aspect she looks hardly anything like Peppy#And if you were a random troll and they put Viva beside of Peppy#you wouldn't make the connection that she's his daughter based on looks alone
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it’s actually so wild to me that this fairly quirky YA type show gave both of its main characters deaths that can, in one way or another, solidly be considered hate crimes. they were both flat out murdered as a result of being A) gay and effeminate or B) brown (south asian, specifically) and you could argue whether or not those kids thought of it that way in the moment or whatever but the bottom line is that they would not have been in the situations that killed them if they weren’t of their respective minorities. like legitimately that is a ballsy choice for this kind of netflix show, let alone for the two Main Characters, and i respect it big time
#rambling#i think about this a lot#you could brush charles’ off as a hate crime by proxy since it was in response to him Stopping a hate crime#but that would be stupid. like you think what happened to him would’ve happened if he was white? doubtful#as a mixed person the way i see it is that in that moment- when he protected that pakistani kid- he went from being tolerated#by being/acting just white enough and with enough other jock traits to sort of fit in amongst them#to all at once proving to them that no- he is in fact The Other. he isn’t one of us he’s one of Them.#and as such what happened to him would’ve been a bonafide hate crime. even if they were to give an excuse like ‘he got in our way’ or ‘he#made a fool out of us’ or whatever else. even if those boys didn’t fully UNDERSTAND the racism in their own intentions/actions#it still would be. because that would not have happened to a white boy. period#anyway. genuinely fascinating choice they made with the way they presented his death- especially considering it was not#remotely similar in the comics. neither of them had the hate crime aspect going on really up til yockey’s narrative choices#so props to him. man’s got balls#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#edwin payne#edit: I will say that I don’t think the boys in edwin’s case technically murdered him nor would I call them murderers#because I can’t imagine a single one of them actually thought that ritual was gonna do anything more than make him piss himself#it was still hate-based bullying. like they still absolutely did what they did because he’s visibly effeminate and easily clickable#and all in all: gay. but when I say edwin was murdered I don’t really mean by those boys. I mean those boys dragged him into the situation#(kicking and screaming) that GOT him murdered by a demon. and he would not have been in that position if not for being gay.#I’ll say it again because last time I talked about this someone got real pissy in my inbox: I am not excusing the actions of the boys that#got him killed nor am I saying what they did wasn’t based in homophobia. i am just clarifying that they didn’t intend on killing anyone or#think whatsoever that someone getting killed was even a possibility (as opposed to charles’ killers who definitely had to have thought he#could be killed even if that might not have been the premeditated goal of every boy involved)#but the fact that edwin was ultimately intentionally killed by a demon counts as murder to me#someone killed him on purpose. that’s murder#the demon probably didn’t give a shit about this human teenager’s sexuality but regardless he ended up there for being gay.#so. just. a clarification
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