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robertreich · 2 months ago

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10 Worst Things About The Trump Presidency

Donald Trump left office with the lowest approval rating of any president ever. But some people now seem to be suffering from amnesia.

Let me jog your memory. Here are 10 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency — in no particular order.

#1. Trump fueled division and sparked a record uptick in hate crimes.

#2. Murder went way up under Trump. He presided over the largest ever single-year increase in homicides in 2020. A number of factors might have contributed to that, but a big one is…

#3. Gun sales broke records under Trump, who has bragged about how he “did nothing” to restrict guns as president in spite of…

#4. Under Trump, America suffered more than 1,700 mass shootings.

#5. Trump said there were "very fine people" among the neo-Nazis in Charlottesville.

I’m halfway to ten. If you think I’m missing something big, leave it in the comments.

#6. Trump allied himself with the Proud Boys, a violent hate group who helped orchestrate the Jan 6 Capitol attack.

#7. Trump’s not wrong when he says…

TRUMP: I got rid of Roe v. Wade.

It is entirely because of Trump’s judicial appointments that 1 in 3 American women of childbearing age now lives in states with abortion bans.

#8. One of Trump’s Supreme Court justices was Brett Kavanaugh, a man accused of sexual assault by multiple women.

#9. Trump’s White House interfered in the FBI’s investigation of Brett Kavanaugh’s alleged sexual assaults.

And now: #10. Trump has been convicted of committing 34 felonies while in office. The criminally false business filings he got convicted for in New York? All of them were committed while he was president.

I’m sorry, did I say the 10 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency? I meant 15.

#11. Trump’s failed pandemic response is estimated to have led to hundreds of thousands of needless deaths. By the time Trump left office, roughly 3,000 Americans were dying of covid every day. That’s a 9/11-scale mass casualty event every single day. How did Trump screw up so badly?

#12. Trump’s White House discarded the pandemic response playbook that had been assembled by the Obama administration.

#13. Trump disbanded the National Security Council’s pandemic response team.

#14. Trump repeatedly lied about the danger of covid, saying it was no worse than the flu or that it would go away on its own.

But behind closed doors, Trump admitted he knew covid was deadly.

#15. Trump promoted fake covid cures like hydroxychloroquine and even injecting people with disinfectants.

After Trump’s “disinfectant” remarks, poison control centers received a spike in emergency calls.

That’s fifteen things. Should I keep going? Ok, I’ll keep going. The 20 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency.

#16. Trump presided over a net loss of 2.9 million American jobs — the worst recorded jobs numbers of any U.S. president in history.

#17. Trump profited off the presidency, making an estimated $160 million from foreign countries while he was president.

#18. Trump also billed the Secret Service over $1 million for the privilege of staying at his golf clubs and other properties while they protected him. That’s your money!

#19. Trump caused the longest government shutdown in U.S. history when he didn’t get funding for his border wall, which he said Mexico was going to pay for.

#20. Under Trump, the national debt increased by about 40% — more than in any other four-year presidential term — largely because of his tax cuts for the rich and big corporations.

You didn’t really think I was stopping at 20, did you? We’re going to 25 —

#21. Trump separated more than 5,000 children from their parents at the border, with no plan to ever reunite them, putting babies in cages.

#22. The Muslim Ban. Yes, Trump really did try to ban Muslims from entering the country.

#23. Trump sparked international outrage by moving the American Embassy in Israel to Jerusalem while closing the U.S. mission to Palestine.

#24. Trump tasked his son-in-law Jared Kushner with drafting a potential Middle East “peace plan” with zero Palestinian input.

#25. And finally, Trump recognized Israel’s occupation of the Goh-lahn Heights, which is considered illegal under international law.

So there you have it, folks: The 25 Worst — Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Did I mention the impeachments? We’ve got to do the impeachments. Let’s go to 30.

#26. Trump broke the law by trying to withhold nearly $400 million of U.S. aid for Ukraine in an effort to extort a personal political favor from Ukraine’s Pres. Zelensky. Trump wanted Zelensky to interfere in the 2020 election by announcing an investigation into the Bidens. Delaying this aid to Ukraine weakened Ukraine and strengthened Russia.

#27. Trump personally attacked and ruined the careers of everyone who stood in the way of his illegal Ukraine scheme, including Ambassador Marie Yovanovitch and Lt. Colonel Alexander Vindman.

#28. To cover up the scheme, Trump ordered the White House and State Department to defy congressional subpoenas.

#29. For these reasons, on December 18, 2019, Trump became the third U.S. president to be impeached. He was charged with Abuse of Power and Obstruction of Congress.

#30. Even while he was being investigated for trying to get Ukraine to interfere in the U.S. election, Trump publicly called for China to interfere in the election.

So those are the 30 Worst Things —

I’ll go to 35.

#31. Long before Election Day, Trump started making false claims that the election would be rigged.

#32. After losing, Trump falsely claimed the election was stolen, even though his own inner circle, including his campaign manager, White House lawyers, and his own Justice Department and attorney general told him it was not.

#33. Trump kept telling his Big Lie even after more than 60 legal challenges to the election were struck down in court, many by Trump-appointed judges.

#34. Trump ordered the Department of Justice to falsely claim that the election “was corrupt.”

#35. Trump and his allies used threats to pressure state leaders in Arizona and Georgia to falsify the election results.

We may go to 40.

#36. When none of the previous schemes worked, Trump and his allies produced fake electoral votes cast by fake electors in multiple swing states. His former White House chief of staff and Rudy Giuliani are among the many members of his inner circle who have been criminally indicted for this scheme.

#37. Trump tried to bully Vice President Pence into obstructing the certification of the election.

#38. Trump invited a mob to the Capitol on Jan 6 with his “be there, will be wild” tweet.

#39. Sworn testimony alleges that when Trump was warned that members of the crowd were carrying deadly weapons, he ordered security metal detectors to be taken down.

#40. Knowing the crowd had deadly weapons, he ordered them to go to the Capitol and…

TRUMP: …fight like hell.

#41 — Yes, yes, I know, bear with me.

Trump betrayed his oath to defend the nation by doing nothing to stop the Jan 6 violence. Instead, according to witness testimony, he sat and watched TV for hours.

#42. On January 13, 2021, Trump became the only president ever to be impeached twice. This time he was charged with incitement of insurrection. It was a bipartisan vote.

#43. The majority of senators — 57 out of 100 — voted to convict Trump, including 7 Republican senators.

So that’s the two impeachments and the Big Lie, but wait, we haven’t dealt with Russia, right? So we’re going to 50.

#44. In a likely obstruction of justice, Trump pressured then FBI Director James Comey to stop the FBI’s investigation into Trump’s National Security Adviser, Michael Flynn. This was documented in the Mueller report.

#45. When Comey didn’t bend to Trump’s will, Trump fired him.

#46. Trump tried to shut down the Mueller investigation by ordering White House Counsel Don McGann to fire Mueller. McGann refused because that would be criminal obstruction of justice.

#47. When news got out that Trump tried to fire Mueller, Trump repeatedly told McGann to lie — to Mueller, to press, to public — and even create a false document to conceal Trump’s attempt to fire Mueller.

#48. Trump ordered his staff not to turn over emails showing Don Jr. had set up a meeting at Trump Tower before the 2016 election with representatives of the Russian government.

#49. Trump convinced Michael Cohen to lie to Congress about Trump’s plans to build a Trump Tower in Moscow, and Cohen served prison time for lying to Congress.

#50. Trump was not charged for criminal obstruction of justice because it’s the Justice Department’s policy not to indict a sitting president, but more than a thousand former federal prosecutors who served under both Republicans and Democrats, signed a letter declaring there was more than enough evidence to prosecute Trump.

So those are the 50 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency. Now I could go on…

And I will! The 75 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency.

#51. Trump said he’d hire only the best people, but…

His campaign chair was convicted of multiple crimes.

So was one of his closest associates.

His deputy campaign chair pleaded guilty to crimes.

So did his personal lawyer

His National Security Adviser

The Chief Financial Officer of his business

A campaign foreign policy adviser

And one of his campaign fundraisers.

They all committed crimes, and Trump pardoned most of them.

#52. Trump said he’d drain the Washington swamp. But he appointed more billionaires, CEOs, and Wall Street moguls to his administration than any administration in history

#53. Trump intervened to get his son-in-law, Jared Kushner top-secret clearance after he was denied over concerns about foreign influence.

#54. Trump hosted a Russian Foreign Minister to the Oval Office, where Trump revealed top-secret intelligence.

Oh, and Trump’s economic policies!

#55 Trump promised that the average American family would see a $4,000 pay raise because of his tax cuts for the wealthy and big corporations. How’d that work out? Did you get a $4,000 raise? Of course not! Nobody did!

#56. Trump vowed to protect American jobs, but offshoring increased and manufacturing fell.

#57. Trump said he would fix America’s infrastructure, but it never happened. He announced so many failed “infrastructure weeks” they became a running joke.

#58. Trump said he would be “the voice” of American workers, but he filled the National Labor Relations Board with anti-union flacks who made it harder for workers to unionize.

#59. Trump’s Labor Department made it easier for bosses to get out of paying workers overtime, which cheated 8 million workers of extra pay.

#60. Trump repeatedly suggested he might serve more than two terms in violation of the Constitution — and continues to do so.

#61. Trump called Haiti and African nations “shithole” countries.

#62. Trump tried to terminate DACA, which protects immigrants brought to the U.S. as children. Luckily this was struck down by the courts.

#63. Trump called climate change a “hoax.”

#64. Trump pulled out of the Paris Climate Agreement.

#65. Trump rolled back more than 100 environmental protections.

#66. Every budget Trump proposed included cuts to Social Security and Medicare.

#67. Trump tried (and failed) to repeal the Affordable Care Act, which would have resulted in 20 million Americans losing insurance. And striking down the ACA’s protections for the roughly 130 million people with pre-existing conditions could have driven up their insurance premiums or led to a loss of coverage.

#68. Trump made it easier for employers to remove birth control coverage from insurance plans.

#69. By the end of Trump’s term, the number of people lacking health insurance had risen by 3 million.

#70. Trump lied. Constantly. He made 30,573 false or misleading claims while president — an average of 21 a day, according to Washington Post fact-checkers.

#71. Trump allegedly took hundreds of classified documents on his way out of the White House, reportedly including nuclear secrets, which he then left unsecured in various parts of Mar-a-Lago, including a bathroom. He was even caught on tape showing them off to people.

#72. Trump seriously discussed the idea of nuking a hurricane.

#73. When Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico, Trump delayed $20 billion of aid and allowed Puerto Rico to be without power for 181 days.

#74. Trump suggested withholding federal aid for California wildfire recovery and said the solution was to “clean” the “floors” of the forest.

#75. Trump pulled out of the Iran deal, placing Iran on a path to developing nuclear weapons.

Honestly, there’s so much more, from exchanging “love letters” with North Korea’s brutal dictator to publicly denigrating a Gold Star military widow and making her cry, to the way he attacked journalists, to late night tweet binges.

Look, I can understand why a lot of people want to block all of this out of their memories. But we cannot afford to forget just how terrible Trump’s time in the White House was for this nation.

And we sure as hell can’t afford to put him back there.

#youtube #Donald Trump #Video #Videos #Election

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sunflowerhae · 4 months ago

Text

GG! (Good Game!) 👾🌀👾 (L.DH)

Summary: Famous YouTuber and Streamer y/n just moved in next door to scholastic loser haechan! No sweat for him! No big deal! Not like he has her picture above his computer! Not like he owns her merch that he stayed up all night to get! Not like he cried when she started playing his favorite video game! Not like he’s completely and utterly obsessed with her and all his friends know it!

Oh wait…Major deal.

Genre: SMAU (with occasional written parts) , loser college student!Haechan x streamer fem! Reader, somewhat strangers to ???, fluff, angst, mostly just haechan being obsessed with reader (you’re welcome delulu fans!)

Starring: All members of NCT DREAM, all members of AESPA, might have some occasional other artists pop in & out!

Warnings: profanity, sexual themes and language, mentions of obsessive behavior, y’all are NAWT going to like y/n sorry, more to come 😫☺️‼️

Playlist: punch, NCT 127 // about you, The 1975 // the adults are talking, The Strokes // disco, Surf Curse // from the ritz to the rubble, Arctic Monkeys // spy?, WHOKILLEDXIX // mass anasthesia, Mediavolo

Notice: all depictions of artists are fictional and no way represent who these artists are in real life. Any similarities are simply coincidence. All pictures are taken randomly from Pinterest. Anything you would like to see removed, please message me PRIVATELY and it will be discussed.

Notes: yay! I’m so excited for yall to read this UGH. I’ve been wanting to get back into the swing of writing recently, and I’ve been super obsessed with SMAU’s and thought I’d try it out. Lmk what u think! I love a boy obsessed w me so it felt only right to make this. Enjoy! 🌀👾💥

Status: Ongoing..

Want to be added to the taglist? Send me a message, or comment under the masterlist!👻

P R O F I L E S

The Flops™️ | extra |

Bad Girls Club | extra |

Intro

Ch. 1 - the worlds tiniest violin

Ch. 2 - that dog in u

Ch. 3 - MISANDRIST

Ch. 4 - I need a gun

Ch. 5 - manifesting 🫶

Ch. 6 - wattpad fanfiction (written)

Ch. 7 - Lala land

Ch. 8 - check engine light

Ch. 9 - chat is this real (Bonus)

Ch. 10 - The Friendzone™️

Ch. 11 - lil dude

Ch. 12 - #virgin

Ch. 13- Renselle 4 life

Ch. 14 - suicide not postponed!

Ch. 15 - don’t HMU ❌

Ch. 16 - u broke him 💀

Ch. 17 - FTCU by Nicki Minaj (written)

Ch. 18 - lover boy

Ch. 19 - 12 baddies 1 Porsche

Ch. 20 - idiot

Ch. 21 - FUCKING DEAN?

Ch. 22 - TINY LITTLE HICCUP

Ch. 23 - The Big One (written)

Ch. 24 - the twilight soundtrack

Ch. 25 - #thankyouy/n

Ch. 26 - ur girl is whack

Ch. 27 - Stockholm syndrome maybe?

Ch. 28 - ur grounded.

Ch. 29 - pause.

Ch. 30 - Restraining Order

Ch. 31 - I’m fine.

Ch. 32 - all hands on deck

Ch. 33 -

Ch. 34 -

Ch. 35 -

Ch. 36 -

Ch. 37 -

more to come… 💭

🤖 Plot questions 🤖

Y/n and Haechan’s ages

☆ Main Masterlist ☆

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hazelfoureyes · 2 months ago

Text

A Doe in Fall (Part 12)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie📍 Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Part 12 Eddie

Brady tried to cut some corners to bring you and Alastor down but ends up just hurting himself.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, still not smut cuz we’re waiting for the special moment, po-po, 5-0, down at the gun club, not an accurate portrayal of 1930s New Orleans Leadership, mystery kisses, brief thoughts of violence, illiteracy, @minkdelovely」

MDNI 👮 🚓

Edward Freeman met Kenneth Brady when the younger man was partnered with him. He was bright eyed, and had a sense of justice Freeman appreciated. He was already tired of the rigamarole of police work, so the fresh energy reinvigorated his early days and long nights. It was rather pointless though, police work, given the people in charge weren’t fans of cracking down on the illegal booze business. It was making too much money under the tables and in handshakes.

The nation was still reeling from the crash of the market nearly two years prior. Any way to get ahead, to stay with your chin above the rising waters, well… what harm is there really in feeding your family? The end justifies the means, right? And Brady didn’t seem to disagree too much with that sentiment.

So when the typically stringent, but otherwise soft spoken and relaxed, Brady began to…devolve into someone a little too myopic, Freeman wasn’t quite sure how to handle him. They’d been rather laissez-faire about the morality of things for so long. They tried to keep violence at a minimum so their fellow citizens could enjoy their city. That was the extent of it. But, Brady was becoming obsessed.

It started normally enough. Brady bringing up a missing husband. Later on, a missing bartender. Soon he was snooping on to other’s cases, convinced something was connecting them.

But, given the times and the character of such people, well, Freeman couldn’t quite understand Brady’s fervor. Sure. Some of them probably ended up under backyards and in the water. Hell, quite a few of them he’d have helped do away once he got the real dirt on them. A conspiracy? Or a mass killer? That seemed implausible at best. There was simply no indication of a grande scheme.

Brady kept pushing. Walking the streets at night with ears open and eyes peeled, for any inkling of what was going on.

He just couldn’t accept that sometimes people leave town or jobs. Very few of them were actually reported by loved ones, even the ones that had them.

Then came along the widow Dupre, watery eyed and shaking about her missing adult son. Who, from what they’d uncovered, was a real piece of work.

Freeman let Brady start his investigation, but as it became clear he was adding it to his pile of random disappearances, Freeman had to step away. He could see the obsession ruining his friend.

At a rare dinner with the families, the stress on Brady’s wife’s face was visible for all to see. She cornered Freeman in the kitchen when he went for more coffee, asking if Brady was stepping out on her or if he truly had been working so hard on something big.

He hardly knew what to say. Neither were true. He’d been working late, but on a wild goose chase.

When he dragged a clean cut and confused woman into the station, Freeman knew he’d really lost the fucking plot.

“She’s his accomplice. I know it. Her fella is the man. I’ve got him fingered.” Brady pointed at you through the closed door. You weren’t listening to their voices in the hall, the name still ringing in your head. The name you'd both sacrificed to keep secret.

Alastor.

Freeman hissed, “You can’t arrest people for knowing a guy! A boogie man at that, Kenny. Come on.”

“I have her confession for prostitution. It’s all clean and by the book. And, I have a witness.” Brady tapped Freeman’s arm with the back of his hand and led him down the hall to another room, “He saw her and her guy throw a body in the river.”

Well, shit.

“You found a body? The Dupre son?” Freeman considered what he’d said. The river? Why the river? Bodies didn’t always make it to the sea. It’d be a sloppy misstep for this supposed murderous mastermind.

Brady sighed, his parade a little rained on. “...No, but I have a witness right there. And, I got the name of her fella. I just need to find which station he’s at and I’m off to the races. I bet you my house this guy’s good for it.”

Ah, so. He had next to nothing. Freeman just nodded and took a calming breath. “Alright, are we starting with the woman or this guy?”

“Oh, for sure her.” Bready turned to open the door, but Freeman shot his hand out to stop him.

“And this is the one who gave you the runaround?” Freeman had heard so much about you already, he wanted to prepare himself for whatever tricky shrew was waiting for him. He followed his partner through the door and took you in fully. Your stare was distant and glassy. You’d been crying and you seemed to be shaking slightly from the cold of the room as fall’s night air slipped in through the window.

You could, reasonably, be his daughter. A similar age for sure, similar build, same hair color. Same penchant for the wrong kinda guy, apparently.

He recalled all of the ways Brady had spoken about you. The image in his head was a bird faced woman with sharp eagle eyes and tight lips. Someone decidedly ugly with a permanent scowl and mischief behind quick glances.

And here was a woman, vulnerable and quite nice to look at it. Hair obviously groomed well when not manhandled by cops, and a rather handsome dress which indicated a good personality by the current standards. The shoulders had flat bows that let their ribbons fall onto your bare shoulders. Feminine. Suitable. Not much skin showing. otherwise. A burlesquer seemed to the kind who didn’t wear clothes often, but he supposed everyone has a work uniform after all. Even the nude dancers. Who was he to judge you for your professional clothing requirements? You were here and modest and that’s what mattered.

He took a seat, sliding the folder Brady had set down into the space in front of him. “I hear you’re not too fond of disclosing your personal information.”

It had been several hours since you’d arrived, and now they chose to grace you with their presence? You’d been tossed into a room and left alone for so long, it seemed more like punishment than bureaucracy.

Brady’s bright blue eyes only get clearer and darker with every ounce of anger you inspired in him. An angry sea churning up violently behind his mean mug. He was practically sneering at you.

“Can you blame me? The men in this city are certifiable. Case in point, this hound you call a cop.” You had the forethought to keep your shoulders pulled inward, gesturing with your chin.

“Detective.” Brady corrected.

“Same thing, jackass.” Eyes rolling, you pushed back against the chair causing the front legs to lift for a second. Returning your glare to him, you honed in on the messy details. You remembered his hair well from that first meeting in front of the cafe. It clearly had become oily and weighed down from less frequent washing. The skin under his eyes was looking dark and thin. “You look like shit, by the way. Should sleep instead of bothering honest performers.”

“Ha, there you are. True colors shining through finally.”

“How was my mom? Not much of a talker.”

“Fu-,” Brady flinched forward, chair squeaking against the linoleum floor. It took a tensing of your arms to keep from openly reacting.

“Ya’ll, enough. Now, don’t be too sour with us. We’re just working off your own words,” Freeman opened the folder to find your confession. It had been typed nice and neat and labeled DOE, JANE. He turned it to you briefly, eyebrows hitching as if to ask if you remembered it. You glanced at it long enough to see the conversation and names and nodded. Yes, you’d had that conversation. Brady must have typed it mostly from memory, you thought, or he had some quick shorthand. He brought it back to face him and as his eyes roamed the sheet, his shoulders stiffened. He wasn’t seeing what he was expecting. “Could you-?,” he motioned for Brady to point out the part of your last conversation that constituted a confession. Brady tapped a line of text.

BRADY - Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged. DOE, JANE - Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently. BRADY - And who was that? DOE, JANE - S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening. BRADY - And then he knocked you around? DOE, JANE - Yeah. Got me good. BRADY - And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that. DOE, JANE - Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection. But as soon as he got his money he left.

Freeman’s head lifted slowly from the paper to look at you over the folder, across the table. Your arms were crossed, makeup smeared and running with long dried tears. Your hair mussed. His head turned with a crawl, weighted down with a steel ball of apprehensive horror, to look at Brady. He was leaning on the table with both elbows, staring at you like you’d busted out his car window and shot his dog.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” He pushed back, resting his hand on Brady’s shoulder and walking out. In the small room that looked into the interrogation room where the male witness fidgeted, he set the folder and your words down.

He motioned for Brady to close the door behind him. As soon as the latch clicked into place, he smacked the table.

“That isn’t a confession! It’s a fucking victim statement, Kenny.” He looked through the one way glass at the man seated, “And he wrote a witness report?” He gestured with his head, the man Brady called Joseph sat quietly waiting for their return. His clothes were pulling at the seams, his fingernails crusted with dirt.

Brady nodded, “Yeah. He came in yesterday and after he told me what he saw he wrote it down there and signed.” He was pointing to a piece of paper he’d left on the same table Kenny was now trying to use for stability. Trying was the keyword. His disbelief was dizzying.

A small laugh, petulant and bordering annoyed, left his lips. He grabbed a pen, wrote something down, and brushed past him. Freeman marched into the witness room, Brady closely following behind.

“Sir, do me a favor and check I’ve spelt your name properly on this paperwork please.” He held it up. The man looked, found where Freeman's finger was pointing, and nodded.

Freeman looked at Brady with dead eyes, the shutdown of his feelings was an automatic attempt by his body to try and keep from grabbing Brady by the shirt in a fit rage, and turned the paper to reveal the name written to Brady.

Josanna. Written neatly in block letters.

Without breaking eye contact with Brady, “And just refresh my memory, sir, what was your statement in regards to again?”

Joseph cleared his throat, “I saw it happen. Down by the river.”

“Saw what happen?”

“The crime.”

“What crime?”

“The one with the guy and the girl. It’s all in there.”

Freeman shoved the written statement into Brady’s chest, “You have half a second to get to the captain’s office before I do.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“That man can’t even read his own name let alone write. From what I can tell he’s a random homeless you plied with confiscated booze. What is going on with you?” The gray haired man bellowed from his chair, hands resting on a large pot belly.

“What does that matter! It’s an illegal hooch den! Naked dancers! Race mixing! She admitted she-,” Brady was pacing a small three foot by three foot square in front of the desk. Freeman had his arms crossed while seated.

“A victim told you she was assaulted. And I-,” the captain leaned back in his chair, “You know exactly how we feel about the wet spots in this city. The, uh, race thing is another issue but— Kenny, you’re one more rogue act from losing your beat. Do you not get that?”

“Rogue? I’m doing legitimate police work. I’m investigating crime! What the fuck is happening here?!” He stopped pacing long enough wave an apology to his boss for the language.

Freeman sighed, long and heavy. A huff of breath that somehow conveyed his disappointment better than words.

“I decide what constitutes police work and this is not that.” His boss shook his chair side to side, thinking about how to get Brady in line. “It comes straight from the commissioner and the mayor above him. We aren’t to hound the bars under our purview.”

‘I’m not!” He started up pacing again, hands up and open in genuine confused frustration.

“You’re harassing their dancers! Stalking around their establishments at night freaking people out!” He laughed in disbelief, “Her manager is outside now. Had to shut down for the night because of your little show.”

Brady put his hands on his hips and faced away from the captain. His face enough alone to have him dismissed.

“I know she’s involved. I know her guy did it. And I know someone’s killing people. Lots of people.” He said it confidently into the corner of the office.

“Kenny. Enough.” Freeman shook his head and stood to leave.

“One complaint about you and you’re being chained to a desk. Cut her loose, apologize, and go home. I don’t wanna see you anymore tonight. Your freaky little eyes are getting under my skin.” His captain removed his small rounded glasses and rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated his life had come to telling men to stop doing their jobs.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

While you were here anyway, and Brady shooed off Joseph, Freeman decided to speak with you again. He offered you a nod and took Brady’s seat.

It was hard to be friendly, you found. Every minute or so you had to sniffle, nose running long after the tears dried up. Your eyelashes stuck together when you blinked.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get your name, sir.” You sniffled again, hands warming your arms.

Freeman leaned over and offered you his hand, “Detective Eddie Freeman.” You shook it, keeping your hand rather limp to give the appearance of weakness.

“I just-,” he laughed as he set his hand on the table, clicking his ring twice out of habit, “I gotta ask. Did your fella kill Tommy? Are you in some kinda trouble?”

With a scoff and a shake of your head, you found yourself, “No, but I wish he had. What’s the point of being good if people assume the worst of you anyway?” Reaching out for his hand again, you held his large one in both of your smaller ones, “At least if he’d killed him I’d be sure Tommy’s never coming back to keep his promise.”

Your mother always taught you to make yourself small. Remind the people you needed to believe you that you were not a threat. Play the part they always pigeon holed you into. It was easier than fighting the assumptions. There was power in deception.

“Your pal is really ruining my life. Even more than Tommy.” You squeezed, 30% strength.

When you looked up at him, he could only find you to be the image of pitiful girl, “Let me check some things and I’ll have Kenny sending you on your way, miss-?”

“Doe.”

“Right.” His ring rapped against the bright wooden door frame, two times, and your brief time knowing Freeman ended.

The paralysis set in as soon as the door was shut. You could hear Alastor’s name echoing around in your head, the sound so sharp it made fresh tears well. Brady had heard it, of course. It was for nothing. You worked so hard, kept his name off of your tongue despite the way it always felt so good there.

Conjured images of Alastor barging into the police station haunted you. What would he say in anger? Brady wasn’t crazy, he was smart and lucky. Nothing could be worse. Alastor could say anything while mad, and Brady could make conclusions he had no business jumping to.

And then he was there in the room with you, and you had to return to the moment and try to calibrate yourself. Who were you now? He already knew you weren’t the damsel in distress, he knew you weren’t weak and frail. Right?

Maybe you’d just be yourself, like you’d let slipped earlier. Your mouth opened and his hand flew up, “Don’t. Shut it.”

“Excu-”

“I’ve been told to apologize and send you home.”

“Oh? And are you?”

Brady smiled, and for a moment you forgot how scary that should be. “No. You’re a liar and you’re aiding a criminal. But you work in a place I’m not supposed to bother. Luckily for me, Alastor’s work surely isn’t one.” Your eyes rolled. Hearing him say the name was like hearing a dog sing opera. Unsettling and unnatural. Perhaps a little impressive from a distance. Unfortunately you were front row and center.

Time with you felt so rare, he wanted to keep you a little longer but couldn’t think of what to say or do. Briefly he entertained grabbing you and violently shaking you until you confessed. He managed to find the strength to bury that down, mouth opening instead in preparation for words he didn’t have yet.

“Can I go home now?” Rubbing your arms to make it clear how uncomfortable you were, you cut him off like he had you. Not that he had anything to say.

Brady motioned with his thumb down the hall and said, “Your guy isn’t here to pick you up. Funny name by the way. I got a complaint for an Alastor last week. Socked some man for no good reason. Sounds like a violent fella, kinda guy with a temper when someone speaks I’ll of his lady, or fiancée, I’m told…Anyway, dropped the case since the guy wouldn’t give any more information but maybe I should follow up.”

“Are you so sure I have one, a guy that is?” You simply couldn’t admit Alastor was yours. Never. Not for Brady. “No one’s coming for me. No one’s punched anyone for me either. Though, I’m flattered you think I’m worth the charge. Am I free to leave?” The little tug of your lips into a halfhearted grin warmed you. It was thrilling, lying to his face when you both knew the truth.

He didn’t move. He couldn’t let you take this moment from him. He’d made a massive victory in this personal war and your nonchalant attitude was making something in the back of his skull itch. Somewhere beneath his bone. A new sensation.

A brief and violent flash of knocking the smirk off your tear stained face startled him. You noticed him swallow hard, expression shifting from amused to bewildered. From the outside, all you could read was a frightened widening of his eyes.

“Brady…? If you’re waiting for some man to collect me, I’ll be here all night.” Your voice was softer now, while you couldn’t uncover what was happening in his head, you could tell he was in some kind of turmoil.

A man unable to control his face was often a man unable to control his hands.

His legs lifted his body up and dragged him over to the door. He opened it, slowly, before leaning against the wall beside it to ensure you passed him in close quarters. He knew he couldn’t keep you there forever.

Maybe this Alastor was a real rough fellow. So cruel he wouldn’t even care if his dame was in a bind. The kind of man to abandon his closest allies when cornered. Maybe he really wasn’t coming for you. Which was fine, he told himself. He’d be seeing him soon.

Following you out, he took the walk as an opportunity to warn you again.

“This won’t end like you think it will.” He said it too loudly for how close he was to you, “It never does for the women.” He stopped at the station’s front desk and leaned into the glossy wooden counter, “Oh! I almost forgot! Congrats on the engagement.”

Turning to say a harsh good night, you caught yourself and turned back, exiting through the station doors without another word to him. No need for polite pleasantries anymore. The game was well and truly over for you.

“Oh thank god,” Johnny was sitting on the steps of the station and jumped to his feet when you came out, a sight you weren’t expecting. You stopped, confused. He smiled seeing your brows knit and eyes wander past him in search of someone else, “I was going to bail you out but they said there wasn’t any need. Alastor is waiting for you.”

Like a leak in the hull of your iron-sided ship, it seemed the second Ruth so sweetly dripped that name into Brady’s waiting maw the ocean was spilling in. Every time you heard it fall from another person’s mouth the breach in your metal barriers tore wider. If the Titanic could sink in calm weather what luck did Alastor and you have in the tempest of Brady’s fervor?

“Oh…,” you tried to hide the dejection. He sent Johnny? That was smart, but, why did it sting?

Perhaps it was his six sisters, or maybe he was genuinely a good man, but Johnny’s heart ached at the pitiful tone. He leapt up two steps, “He wanted to come! But I told him it was a bad idea. Tempers and all that. Don’t need any more issues for you tonight. Though admittedly he didn’t seem mad, necessarily.”

A slow nod. Johnny told Alastor what to do? Your eyes looked to the left, that was an odd mental image.

“Thanks, Johnny. I need to return to the theater first.” Your hand reached out for his arm and gave it a squeeze, “I appreciate you.”

“Dont mention it. And your bag is with Alastor.” He let his hand come to yours, “He’s kind of a mess, that one.”

You tensed, accidentally pinching his arm in a flit of panic before drawing it back, “Did he drive home like that?”

He shook his head and handed you the card, “He said,” a pause as his eyes rolled up to search for the exact words, “to tell the host you’re there for him. Called it the Golden Dish, but the card doesn’t mention anything like that…. Sorry, I didn’t think to ask more questions. Like I said, he seemed out of sorts.”

You looked down to inspect it, nervous at the sudden introduction of a paper trail. Nodding, you finally took it with both hands. The face was rather plain: an address in the corner with just the number and street, and an interlocked G and D in the center. Turning it over, you found a pink lipstick kiss stained haphazardly across the back and a small squiggle. Your thumb ran over the clipped right bottom corner.

What was the Golden Dish? And who was kissing Alastor’s business cards?

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #human alastor x reader

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absolutebl · 4 months ago

Text

This Week in BL - The Summer Games BLgin.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Those Greeks did have that reputation for naked dudes rolling around together so I'm declaring it...

BL OLYMPICS!

I'll be passing out metals in various sporting events, as part of the weekly updates through mid August, just for funzies.

July 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - I guess mass murder is nothing next to having to raise funds for your basketball club. There were a lot of water sports in these eps (no not that kind). I’m not complaining. The street BB playoffs were fun. Frank is GOOD. I didn’t know he played. They aren’t using doubles for this. Meanwhile, it’s a bummer this one can’t be a poly romance.

Winner!

Gold in Handball

for that shower scene in ep 9 (also... ya know, DUNK TANKS)

Balls in hands of all types.

Briefly must chat about that intro/outro music. It's like Thai autotuned Stray Kids. Which means I kinda adore it.

Century of Love (Weds Gaga) eps 5-6 of 10 - I guess he’s had a long time to learn how to fight really really well. This is a fun show. It does occasionally feel like a bunch of gay boys playing dress up. I LIKE P’Third a lot. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be an actual baddie. I’m finding the music a little intrusive in these episodes. I love the deconstructed suits look, and the velvet blazer. Very 90s. The confessions scene was very cute. It’s a good thing Vee is so easy-going, because the last few months of his life have been truly insane. And now he’s queen of the castle? Still working his convenience store job?

I honestly thought we'd just get kisses halfway through not a full on sex scene. But it was very sweet and tender. Appreciated, boys, thanks. However it’s never a good sign when the sex scene is it at the halfway point, it just means there’s gonna be a lot of trauma to come.

(I gotta say every time Daou smiles he actually looks his age.)

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 4 of 8 - I like them now. I mean as a pair of characters. I wasn’t really sold on the main couple until this episode, and now I’m interested (yes I am shallow). The boy with the glasses is definitely sus. I’m quite drunk, thus I have to say Sailub is the hottest thing on my screen right now. Metas's taste in interior design sucks. OK, that physical therapy session was sexy. I wasn’t sold at first, but now I love this side couple too.

Argh. SailubPon kiss so well. Also COUNTER LIFT!!!!

Silver in Weightlifting

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 - I’m the one who always says this stuff, but this pair might be the best at relationship heat. Let me try to explain. They are good at putting on screen the kind of NRE, want to bone, just really into each other physically and also connected and loving. It’s the way their bodies always arch towards each other. They’re very comfortable in each other’s space in a way that’s really rare to see out of Any BL country but Taiwan. I think they might be my favorite couple currently active. I don’t know how to put it except that

it looks like they want each other,

it looks like they like each other,

it looks like they’re into each other,

and it looks like they GET each other.

It’s nice to see on screen. The plots/stories/narratives that they're given aren’t doing them any favors, but man they’re a good pair. Meanwhile, was I screaming the whole time don’t rip the sample of the custom piece? Yes I was. But it was still sexy.

Sam getting discovered was fun! Yo is gonna burn his arse good.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 8 of 12 - Okay! Officially boyfriends. I almost like the friendship btw Atom and Mudmee better than the romances. But they all so cute.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 4 of 12 - I hate the gf intern so much. I think she is past redemption now - time for death. What is it they say about ADs? they do all the work, for none of the credit but all of the blame.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I guess Peak’s dad really is that awful. Jane is the beard? Got it. The show got suddenly quite sweet and complex. Where did that come from? Meanwhile ,Almond + Latte + sex education is awesome. Great trope we rarely get in BL.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - Look, what’s really annoying me is that I am neither upset nor pleased with the show. I like to be driven one way or the other by Meme. Trash watch here. (delayed this week, I can't face it)

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 1-2 of 12 - Out the gate I don’t like it. I don’t really like the teasing thing and the acting is poor. That said, neck kisses in the very first episode do make me happy. So I’m gonna keep watching. As for ep 2, I like the sides, and we have gay brothers trope activated. I also like the paranormal element, it adds some much-needed tension, but it is still a little slow (typical of a pulp).

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - I like our poor lost puppy slowly figuring out what’s going on. It’s so elegantly done. Also, the the boy begs his quiet seme to SAY something, you know he’s gonna DO something instead.

I could have done wihtout the pan around the head kiss. We over that, 8 years ago.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Why don’t I like this show? I had to think about it quite a bit. It’s the power differential. I never enjoy it when the character with less power is the one doing the pursuing, it comes off as too desperate or something. In this case he is: from the country, poor, and younger, It just makes Takara’s dismissive attitude and snobbery unpleasant to watch. Also, you know me, =/= obsessive stalker behavior.

It's airing but...

Bad Guy (Korea YT) - yeah, erm, no thank you.

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) ep... - Great, a rich boy studying business at uni, suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I try to catch up next week.

I have a source, but I simply didn’t have time to watch it. So sorry. Too much traveling too much BL to keep up with. A perfect conflation of conflicting priorities.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - it's your funeral (or, more likely, one of the main characters'). You can argue but... statistics. You know my feelings on this matter. MY BLOG, remember?

64.media.tumblr.com

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!!

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming Up Next!

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return, and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: the premise? Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

8/4 Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - OMG a uni student who looks too young and a... COP. GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. Please Gaga pick this one up? They made it for US.

8/7 Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Weds ????) 8 eps - office romance around the makeup counter featuring a younger seme and sex by blackmail. I am intrigued. DFTUJ (don't fuck this up, Japan).

8/8 Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs WeTV ) 12 eps - I am so DAMN excited to see Big finally lead a BL. I can't even with this, one of my most anticipated of this year. He's a great kisser ya'll, he's kissed a lot of boys as second lead. I can't WAIT.

8/12 First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) 12 eps - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan stars Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn tean. I can't wait. With thier powers combined!

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

Addicted Heroin (Thailand adaptation) is also supposed to release this month. GIVE IT TOO MEEEEEE. I don't care about anything else but August back on my screen. It's been almost a decade since he did BL.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

This week's adventures in caption "out of" and "off" are not the same thing. This is an uncomfortable thought.

I'm so tired I'm seeing double. This is all you get.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

Sports in Play (the jokes write themselves) )

Boxing

Breaking

(That's Not) Cricket

Diving (yes, for that)

Fencing (yes, with those)

Handball (exactly what it says, no, read the word.. again)

Rhythmic Gymnastics (obvs)

Squash (snicker)

Surfing

Swimming

Trampoline

Weightlifting

Wrestling

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yiga-hellhole · 9 days ago

Text

TFTK CHAPTER 25: RECRUITMENT UNDER THE TWILIGHT KING

After Zant seized the Triforce of power, the next-most important phase of his plan enters: rebuilding his army. Old allies are in need of rescuing and, conveniently, they happen to be trapped right in his fortress of choice.

aaand welcome back! the next 4 chapters have been up on ao3 for a bit, but i only just got around to the promo art. thank you all for your patience! inspo for the top panel comes from kentaro miura's berserk, chapter 86 [MIND CONTENT WARNINGS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ BERSERK BEFORE], because i wanted this moment of tenderness to look unnerving. YAY <3

speaking of content warnings. CW this chapter for gore and graphic violence. this chapter was betaread, as usual, by @bulgariansumo and @orfeoarte ! thank u so much!

ao3 mirror

A ludicrous fantasy Ghirahim would once have mocked was now reality: Zant had claimed the Triforce. Its power thrummed in his veins like a second heartbeat, felt in shocks with the slightest touch. He felt it when Zant’s hand plunged into his chest to take their blade; he felt it when they shared a bed, ramming against his cheek when he laid his head upon his chest; he felt it when they as much as crossed gazes. Always deep, resonant, and rhythmic, the heavy beating of a drum right in his ears. It was alive – breathing that life into that wilted thing of a host, who had died two times too many.

It’d been in his possession for mere days, and already their enemies were grasping for cards. None knew whether to storm wherever he lingered, or to evacuate wherever his serpent eyes sought their next siege. Ghirahim stayed by his side as his scabbard, as his retainer, and, somewhat discreetly, as his lover, march after march, watching the shimmering ocean of battles carried out in their name below, but finding far more intrigue in seeing their flames reflected in the Twilight King’s eyes. There was coldness in them, ruthless like a natural-born killer, but through it burst the sparks of a manic joy. Of elation, that tugged at the corners of his lips. These days, it was getting more and more difficult to read him.

This was the fourth day. They made it to the Temple of Souls in record time. Winter had not been kind to it – where once a labyrinth of lush roses grew rampantly on its estate, there was now a nonsensical mass of dead, black thorns, so brittle to the touch Ghirahim couldn’t imagine them piercing skin. Yet they must have been, because there rang the occasional whine from their soldiers chopping the paths down. Ghirahim quietly thanked the fact Yuga was stuck in prison somewhere in that dark, gloomy building. The Sorcerer surely wouldn’t have liked to see what had become of his prized garden, much less what Zant’s forces were doing to it.

When they broke through this first line of defense, the second stood waiting. Four days was not many to prepare against a siege, but it had been enough for Hyrule to put them in a small spot of trouble. Their forces were struggling, a sea of thorns at their backs to be pushed into, and wooden clubs meeting their match against tempered steel.

But Zant seemed unperturbed. He simply stood and stared at the Temple, watching as the last snowmelt dripped down the balcony. He turned to Ghirahim almost casually, held out his hand, and said, “Perhaps it is a little early for a spring cleaning, but we might as well start, no?”

His Blade answered wordlessly, took his hand. Fingers entwined, they stepped past their frontlines and into contested ground… Only for a shockwave to tear through the opposing forces, and cleave them a path. Those that didn’t perish from the impact launched backward, slamming against the stone staircase leading up to the temple. They traversed this carpet of fallen soldiers almost without a care in the world, undisturbed by those who attempted to break past the force fields around them. Their steps forcing the blood out of crushed organs beneath, crimson splatters colored the ground where petals once lay. The occasional, opportunistic allied soldier would dart past them, but up until the doorway, they cleanly passed down their aisle.

What would normally require a battering ram and the effort of dozens of men, took Zant nothing but a forceful shove of the palm. The stone door before them thudded and shrieked, a spiderweb of cracks digging into its surface. It gave way soon after. Down it crumbled, the parts of it still intact creaking inwards on loose hinges. Past the rubble, dust, and pebbles, the next wave of Hyruleans greeted their intruders. The first fool to close in on them would feel a sword sneak past his gorget, and then, feel nothing at all. Blood fresh on his blade, Ghirahim struck down the next, and the next, and the next, fighting tirelessly to guide the Twilight King through the crowd.

But where were they headed? They knew nothing of where their prisoners were kept. Digging in his memory, Ghirahim recalled nothing vaguely even resembling prison cells in the entire building. The Temple was an archive, a sanctuary, a mansion. It was not meant to know enemies, much less to harbor them. Moreover, the place was a veritable maze. If they ran around recklessly in search of their lieutenants, they would certainly get ambushed.

At the risk of losing his focus, he started to dowse. Yuga… Though a powerful mage, his presence had always been weak. Ghirahim did not typically track smaller targets, but for the sake of speed, he attempted nonetheless. He honed in on a sound, a smell, a memory… Shrill laughter, rosewater, and a wicked glare from across the studio. Weak chimes in his core confirmed his calibration.

Yuga was upstairs. But, barely, it seemed… Whatever that meant. He had no time to linger upon it. Amidst his faltering concentration, Zant had slid in to defend him. This sight filled him with such an instinctual feeling of disgrace he took not a split second of hesitation to grab him by the arm, and promptly warped the both of them to the top of the stairs.

Hyrulean troops were sparser here, but they would not be for long once word spread they’d arrived here. Ghirahim looked left, looked right, hoping for a confirming chime to ring out.

Left wing.

Zant kept pace with him, but Ghirahim felt his burning look of inquiry at his back. “Yuga is kept this way,” he hissed out as they ran down the hall. “It’s best we get to him quickly.”

Oh, he could hear it already. How reckless it was to rush ahead with their troops lagging so far behind. How the path should have been clear before breaking out a prisoner. But the fool dragging behind him now had far too much power to worry about such practicalities. They cleaved through the hallway, right past the windows, the paintings –

… This seemed familiar to Ghirahim. He had a feeling he knew where they were keeping the Sorcerer. Very quickly, he found the thought of it alone tacky.

To his chagrin, they found the jail room a mere few turns later. Steel bars had been fitted over the door and the stained glass windows around it. Before it stood waiting a handful of guards, who rushed toward them at once. Yuga was imprisoned in his own atelier.

Ghirahim sighed and took the first of the guards down. These men were slightly more competent, he noted quietly. They would have to be, considering who they were trying to keep in. It took a few nicks on his skin and clothing for him to find a moment’s respite to turn to Zant.

“You can break through those bars yourself, no?”

He nodded in response, hesitating but a moment to step closer to the door. “Right, before we head inside. Yuga is going to be in an incredibly sensitive state. I think it would be wise if I led the conversation,” Zant said, ignoring the guard rushing towards the both of them until he sent the man sailing down the hallway with a flick of his hand. “I fear you might lack the tact for it.”

“Lacking tact? Me? You have some nerve,” Ghirahim growled, refusing to humor him with his usual light air of banter. “You’ve spent far too much time buttering me up to start insulting me now.”

“It’s just a piece of perspective you lack. I mean nothing bad by it,” Zant responded, his hands raised defensively.

Arms folded loosely as to not lose his grip on his sword, Ghirahim frowned back. “And what, pray tell, is it that I lack? Or do you think me too stupid to comprehend whatever you’ve got planned?”

“Come now, not so hasty. It’s just an observation I made. Your disdain for mortals makes you miss out on crucial details, Ghirahim-ili. Do you have even the slightest idea as to what could make him… Distraught?”

Ghirahim sighed, furrowing his brow. “Yuga is distraught to tears at the drop of a hat, to begin with. Were he to be upset in particular about witnessing the defeat of our Master, or something as juvenile as his precious roses being torn down, he would have little more reason to grieve than I do.”

Rumbling down the hall. Some crowd was approaching, whether friend or foe. They both ignored it completely in favor of their conversation. Zant smirked at Ghirahim’s response. “As I thought. I must specify. Had you listened, you would have caught that Lorule is a kind of mirror world. In it, a doppelgänger of each living being is born… Yuga, as it would seem, fills the role of Ganondorf in his world.”

His esoteric trivia again. Ghirahim found it odd timing, frustrating almost. He certainly didn’t enjoy the implications this one carried. “... I see. What about it?”

“A bit of sympathy is in order, is all. To give you some perspective. To lose Ganondorf, to him, would be akin to tearing your scabbard from you, and leave you without a hand to wield you. You could live, certainly…”

Ghirahim’s furrowed brow relaxed, his face now solemn. Zant was prodding at sore spots and he knew it – Ghirahim had experienced both of those, in relatively short succession, in the past few months. He was forced to speak aloud what he’d kept quietly to himself that entire time. “... But I wouldn’t be complete.”

“Precisely.”

At once, Ghirahim was annoyed. Must he have been reminded of such agonies now, and share them with one he was so cross with? He had long opinionated himself about Yuga’s incessant clinging to what was supposed to be his Master, but this bit of empathetic pampering from Zant drove a nail right into his ire. Yuga was no more special than he. Even less so! What was a failed copy to a loyal blade!? How infuriating.

“Hah! And you speak of tact,” Ghirahim exclaimed, frowning with a nasty grin. He decided there was little point in bickering in the hallway. So he marched on forward, giving Zant a stiff shove in the back to hurry him to the door. “This entire lecture could have been condensed to a simple, ‘Ghirahim-ili, let me handle this’. Not a snide comment necessary!”

Zant hardly stumbled, but easily swayed by him as ever, did exactly as he wanted. “Perhaps you are right, but I wanted to even the scales on the snark you’ve been giving me the past few months, just a little.”

“You are very lucky I can’t break through that helmet, Twili.”

“I’m thankful for it every minute.”

With the doorway now free to open, Zant opened the door with silent care and slithered inside. “Yuga, Lord of Lorule. We’ve come to free you from death row,” he announced.

When Ghirahim followed behind him, he realized instantly what Zant must have meant by a ‘sensitive state’. The atelier had been completely thrashed. Broken bottles of pigments littered the floor into a desolate rainbow amidst the toppled furniture. Strewn around the room, some crooked on the wall, were the remains of portraits, their faces burned off. There was but one painting intact enough to discern its subject – though for all of them, it could easily be gleaned. The scene unfolded just by the tall windows, covered in bars and thorns as they were, the grey skies beyond them shrouding the room in a cold, dull light.

Ghirahim felt an icy chill under the golden gaze of his late Master, piercing through him from across the atelier. The last depiction of Ganondorf he might ever see again, rendered in this loving detail, captured him in an instant, with his wild, fiery hair, his powerful build, and that stern, ambitious look that drove him to grovel every time it turned to him. So engrossed was Ghirahim, that he hadn’t noticed the figure wilting before it.

Yuga sat at the base of the portrait, leaning into a nearby chair for support, as if he once had collapsed there and hadn’t gotten up since. He was shrouded in black, the only color on him now being from his own hair. The once so-well-kept ringlets that bounced on his shoulders had collapsed into an unruly mass of curls, and just then, shifted across his back as he blearily turned his head.

Some glint of surprise passed through his face, but Yuga did not seem to have the energy to have it linger. As he turned to them, Ghirahim’s eye landed on one particular detail. In his madness, Yuga had ripped the casing of a decorative pillow to shreds with his teeth.

“... Zant? Ghirahim? You – Am I seeing ghosts?”

Zant stepped closer into the light, a dull white interlaced with the shadows of prison bars. “Worry not for your sanity, Yuga. We are very much alive.”

“But… The Desert… We were certain you had perished,” Yuga tried to reason.

Zant’s helmet clattered and folded in on itself. Beneath it, he smiled sympathetically. “By the skin of my teeth, I survived. I have Ghirahim to thank for it.”

Yuga turned to look at Ghirahim again, who, struggling to keep his expression straight after such a grating comment, nodded in acknowledgement. “I would be glad to see you, but, my friends, look at the state I’m in. My masterpieces. Our army. Our Master,” he prattled on, gesturing pathetically to himself. Before Ghirahim could ponder on how pitiful he looked, Yuga’s words took a bitter turn. “Why didn't you assist us?”

Excuses at the ready as usual, Zant responded quickly. “I was bedridden, still, the day Ganon fell. And if I hadn’t been, I doubt our late Master would have wanted us to come to his aid.”

Barely suspended disbelief crossed Yuga’s squinted eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Ganondorf betrayed us. That desert was meant to be our deathbed, and we failed to comply to his wishes by refusing to be buried in it. I suspect he had been displeased with us ever since our defeat at Death Mountain, and has been attempting to get rid of us since.”

Liar. Filthy, snake-tongued liar.

“... That – I had no idea, to think that he would…” Yuga was still for a long time, for as far as the chaos outside allowed for stillness. “Fool I was. To be so close to him, and so blind to his plans. But what does it matter now? You say you are here to free me. What, exactly, is left of me to free? I’m nothing, now. I’ve failed, I’ve been humiliated, and now, I am more powerless than I’ve ever been.”

And Yuga was buying every word of it like it was on discount. How fragile grief made the mortal mind! It was getting more and more difficult for Ghirahim to mask his disgust. But he could not simply zone out, close himself off from this exchange. These were lies that the both of them would have to hold dear, as to not betray to Yuga that they were complicit in the fall of Ganon. It would be a very, very bitter lie, for possibly centuries to come.

Again Zant walked closer to his frail lieutenant. He stood across him now, mere steps away. “On the contrary, Yuga. You will be instrumental in my plans.”

“... Plans? Oh, Usurper. Don’t tell me,” Yuga laughed weakly.

Those final steps were crossed. Zant hunched down, taking Yuga’s hands in his and squeezing them. “But I am. Yuga, you have wit. You have magic. But more importantly, you have my trust. ”

Zant then laid his hands on his shoulders, staring him down with those wide eyes of his. “Tell me, Yuga. What is it that you wish?”

His solemn chuckling having just come to an end, Yuga’s malicious side slipped through the cracks of his composure. He shook his head, cackling to himself through gritted teeth. His next words were growled through tears. “That horrid land gone. I wish all of Hyrule to fall on its knees before me, its people begging us to forgive what they've done. Then, I want it reduced to dust.”

“Then we share similar goals, Lord of Lorule,” Zant smiled. He sensed weakness and dug his jaws in. “What of our Master? Would you not wish him back?”

Fury bulged through the veins in Yuga’s neck. “... Pay… They’ll pay for taking him from us. From ME! Of course I wish for him. It feels like I’ve lost a limb, Zant. Like a part of me has atrophied. But a childish wish like that…”

Just as Yuga faltered again, Zant held him tighter, leaning into his field of vision. “Would you believe me if I told you, that there is a way? To feel his presence, for his power to dwell in you?”

Yuga’s head fell, his voice whittling down to a whimper. “... Mercy…”

“You say you want vengeance. To reduce Hyrule to dust. Then we have that in common, Lord of Lorule!”

As fiercely as he did tenderly, Zant cupped Yuga’s face in his hands. At once forced to look straight at the other man, the first face he’s earnestly met in what may have been weeks, Yuga widened his eyes in surprise. Then, as the sad figure froze in his hands, Zant lunged down and kissed him firmly on the forehead.

Yuga yelped in surprise, his frame seizing up. Then convulsing, as a powerful pulse emitted from the both of them, strong enough to rattle the room and all its inhabitants. A grey, runed pallor spread through Yuga’s skin for just a heartbeat. As small as that glimpse of power had been, it was enough for him to burst into tears. Clinging to Zant’s breeches, he sobbed, and wailed, and pleaded. As simple as that, a new allegiance was forged.

Ghirahim’s eye trailed from the gray hand stroking and soothing the mourning sorcerer’s shoulder, up to Zant’s face. When their eyes met, a triumphant, subtly vicious smile flashed back at him. What a dangerous ally he’d made.

Time came to free their other prisoner. By now, their forces had fought all the way up to the door to Yuga’s impromptu holding cell. A proper entourage was waiting for them at last. The last words exchanged and his tears dried, Yuga shifted in his seat. In his lap, he still held a black handkerchief, greyed, faded, and laces frayed, where listless hands had wrung the wetted fabric.

Their lieutenant made some wantful gesture behind him. “My crutches, please, I –” He struggled for a moment, hissing against the movement of his sore legs. “My apologies, I haven’t moved from this spot in quite some time.”

One of Yuga’s crutches turned out broken, doubtlessly during the same chaos that razed through the room he was confined in. Yuga paid the rest of the room no heed as they departed, making a clear effort to aim his gaze at nothing but the exit. Unpracticed as he was with but one crutch, Ghirahim joined his vulnerable side. It was a sorely uncomfortable affair. Both of them, in mourning, regretting the death of the one who symbolized their previous Masters. Yet, Ghirahim himself was composed, while the one currently hanging on his arm was a blubbering mess. Hidden behind a black veil was he, with reddened, puffed-over eyes, his gaunt cheeks, and the flaky skin on his fingers, drenched in tear-stained eczema. His despair truly made him ugly.

Though, he supposed Yuga had stayed by his Master’s side until the very end. Abandonment, betrayal, such forces would never come to stifle whatever sadness came to rear its head in the poor wretched Lorian.

Ghirahim knew the raw spot his companion carried on his person now all too well. In his envy of such open weeping, he felt inclined to rip it open. At the risk of a warning glare from Zant, he broke his silence.

“I have to know, Yuga. That final hour. Did he die with glory?”

Yuga swallowed, sucked in a choked breath. He stumbled for a moment. Was it truly so easy to topple his composure like this? How delightfully weak.

“Never before have I seen such power. Such raw, glorious fury, encapsulating all he stood for. He was everything, Ghirahim,” were the words he landed upon, final like the closing of a book.

Their violent chaperones huddled like a shield around the three of them, they traversed the swirling halls of the Temple. They did so in silence, mostly, with Zant too focused on tracking the Ring Spirit’s vague magical aura, and the other pair, too engrossed in their own thoughts to waste any words. The deeper they crossed into the Temple, the less disturbance they received. Snarling against their foes, the Bulblin soldiers guarding their flanks fought off the few that dared pursue them into this labyrinth.

As though breaking free from a spell, Yuga mustered the decency to speak to the one assisting him in walking. He turned to Ghirahim with a slight smile. “You have contempt for him, don’t you, Ghirahim? He broke his promise to you.”

Ghirahim did not respond. The way he shifted his gaze to the floor could have been taken as a refusal to answer, but really, he was just considering the thought for his own curiosity. Contempt? Was he capable of feeling such things for his Masters? How would he go about picking such feelings out from between the mountain of disappointment, sadness, and guilt? This overall inadequacy?

Yuga did not let him consider for long. His smile turned wistful as he spoke. “I tried for you, you know. When he was in one of his rare, fair moods, I’d approach him, and I’d ask, ‘Master, would it really be so terrible if you took him to your next battle? That boy cares for you so, it pains me to see him so neglected’. And do you know what he said?”

Yuga’s words almost shocked him. Fond reminiscence over mutual loss of a meaningful person. Common among mortals, but unheard of for him. How quaint. He’d never had a conversation like this before. The novelty of it alone made Ghirahim set his frustrations with Yuga aside, if only to see as many sides of this exchange as possible. “No. What did he say?”

Yuga mustered a laugh, lowering his voice somewhat in imitation of their Ganondorf. “ ‘That ‘boy’ of yours,’ he said, ‘is a millennia old weapon. You’d do better not to make him go soft’. A hopeless affair, it was! Even for me!”

The realization that Yuga had vouched for him, pleaded for wishes in his stead, without his knowing or urging, weighed on a part of his mind he didn’t recognize. What a strange favor… Ghirahim looked to the man beside him, now seeing an ally… No, a friend, he hadn’t known he had.

His own ignorance, paired with the thorough typicality of Yuga’s words, brought him a burst of laughter. Yes, that was how their Master was, exactly! “He was right, you know.”

And though Yuga joined him in his laughter, Ghirahim turned away just as his companion was distracted by nostalgic mirth, to hide sadness of his own. That simple exchange confirmed it. The truth settled heavily in his soul. Ganondorf never intended to wield him. Never had, never would. He swallowed the finality of it all and bore the thorns it drove into his throat with silence.

After a long trek through foggy corridors, Zant stopped. To their right stood a door, at first glance unremarkable, with its mundane size and simple wooden frame. Stepping closer, one would notice it completely plastered in talismans. Different colors, shapes, sizes – Ghirahim thought he could even distinguish different scripts. The Hyruleans were thorough with their wards, for even the Demon Lord felt an unpleasant sting standing near the door. Had Wizzro been kept there, these wards would certainly be keeping him firmly trapped inside.

To the living, though, such things were mere strips of paper, and Zant began idly picking at their edges to peel them right off the door. As he did so, Ghirahim cast a bored look to where they came from, squinting against the persisting fog. He wondered if they’d be able to make it back.

With the talismans removed, the lot of them passed through to find some matter of lodging, perhaps one meant for servants or guests. Its furnishings were mostly empty, save for some boxes and trinkets scattered around the shelves. But, more importantly, there sat a plain jewelry box upon the dressing table, a big, bright red talisman sticking it shut.

Zant seemed to notice his gawking and sidled up beside him. “I do believe I have kept you bored this entire siege. If you would like to do the honors…”

Yuga now taken off his hands, Ghirahim accepted Zant’s offer. He approached the box, and though the talisman itched his fingers through his gloves, he peeled it off no problem.

Almost immediately, the jewelry box began to shake. Cacophonous jingling of little accessories grated the ears, until a murky, groaning sound muffled all else. At once, the box shot open, a shadowy form bursting forth with clawed hands and gnashing teeth.

“A damn fool you are, to let me out of –” Wizzro roared, only to sheepishly fold into himself once he saw who stood before him. He let out an awkward chuckle. “Ah, erm, gentlemen. Hhhhi.” His mouth closed, then shifted into an eye, which darted between the three men before him. He lingered particularly on Zant, whose magic output evidently made him the biggest presence in the room. Naturally, a Spirit such as Wizzro couldn’t wrestle his attention away from such a phenomenon if he wanted to. “You’ll have to excuse me for the outburst. You see I’ve been eh, locked in that box for – How long, Yuga?”

“Beats me,” said Yuga, unenthused about being involved in the conversation.

“Yes, you get the idea. Quite a bit. Stewing in rage the whole time. You know how it is.”

Ghirahim raised a brow, having stood there deadpanned this entire exchange thusfar. “Sure.”

“Either way, so,” Wizzro said, turning away from them to hide his face. He rummaged around in the box for a bit, plucked his own ring out, and twisted it nervously around his finger. “There’s something… New, housing itself in you, isn’t there, Zant?”

Zant simply stared.

“I take it we’re under new management?”

Now, Zant smiled. “You learn fast. Yes, Wizzro. I will be requiring your services.”

“How much… Bargaining space, do you allot me, Twili? You should know, a spirit like me is in high demand.”

“I know every inch of that fickle mind of yours, Wizzro. You shall have nothing to complain about. And if you did, I would give you reason not to.”

“ Oh yeah. You haven’t changed. Good, good. Very well, then. When do we start?”

“Right away, Wizzro, my good man,” said Zant, holding out his hand as if offering to shake it. Pointedly, his right, so that Wizzro would have no choice but to join hands with his ring in the middle. Ghirahim exchanged a look with the poor sod as he floated by to accept, and found him more nervous than he’d ever seen him.

The shriek that rang throughout the room the second they shook on their pact confirmed that Wizzro had good reason to be nervous. Something told Ghirahim the conniving rat wouldn’t be giving them too much trouble from here on out. With that out of the way, the group of them, reunited at last, turned back down the hallway. There were still rats in the Temple, after all, and no King worth his salt would be caught dead with vermin in his home.

One last ally remained, and he may have been the most difficult to persuade. Frankly, Ghirahim wasn’t enthused about this one, but they were strapped for commanders. His personal opinions, therefore, meant very little. So, there they stood, at the mouth of the Northern Eldin Cave system. Naturally, as they had succeeded in doing so before, their army would greatly benefit from recruiting an entire clan of dragons. Now that Hyrule had succeeded in doing the same, they could not afford to lose their own.

Thus Zant described it to his co-lieutenants. It was just the two of them today, leaving Yuga to rest and Wizzro to tend to administration. Ghirahim was simply tagging along as his scabbard, as he usually did, these days. To-day, he was glad for it. He wasn’t particularly enthused about the idea of holding a conversation about the dreadful bore that was Volga, Dragon Knight. And he was certain it was Volga they were meeting with. The Dragons of this world hold boundless wisdom, though very few are equipped with the ability to relay it in mortal tongue. This left the Fire Dragons of Eldin with no option but to send their representative before the Twilight King. With the occasional gigantic serpentine head peeping in from the tunnels, Volga met them in solitary attendance, held emphatically close by the entrance of the cave system.

“Sir Volga. We meet again,” announced Zant.

Volga, though clearly displeased by even the sight of his two ‘guests’, kept an impressively stiff upper lip before them. “You know very well I do not bother with formalities. State your business.”

“My conquering of the Seer’s territory surely has not slipped your notice.”

“It has not.”

“You will also expect that I am not content with this alone. Even after Ganondorf’s defeat, Hyrule remains contested ground. Your people, too, have stakes in this. This dwelling alone convinces me. Your relatives hunching through the tunnels behind you, I presume, are far too large, too numerous, to dwell in the caves of a nursery. You wish to expand.”

With a pound of his spear, Volga scoffed, though he did not smile. “Clearly you know everything. Yet you bother to come and interrogate me. Why?”

“I simply thought a little sympathy might prove my good intentions to you.”

Volga, unlike many, saw through Zant’s sweetened words remarkably quickly. That was just about the one of the few things Ghirahim appreciated about him: the man’s resolve was like steel. “Silence! I will not hear another word. Shadow Lord, you are an open book. Next, you thought to offer some grand compromise, a way to use my people as your pawns.

I decline!“

At lack of response, Volga held his pike at the ready, fire pooling from between his teeth. “I will not repeat myself. Leave!”

Zant chuckled from behind his helmet, padding backward in resignation. But Ghirahim could see this surrender was completely false. Inside those massive sleeves, his fingers itched and twiddled. So Ghirahim steeled himself, his hands tense behind his back.

As he predicted, once Zant joined his side, he jerked his head toward him with violent anticipation. With a snap of his fingers, Ghirahim’s cloak disappeared, his chest exposed. Zant hesitated not even a second to rip his scimitar from its scabbard and bear down on the Dragon Warrior with voracity.

Ghirahim, naturally, could not stand idly by. Volga’s fighting style was far more exciting to him than the dolt himself, and Ghirahim eagerly seized the opportunity to witness it up close. With a whirlwind-strength spin of his polearm, gashes formed across the torsos of both Volga’s opponents. Yet it deterred neither of them. Furious blows were exchanged between the embers bursting through the air, the temperature in the tunnels at once reaching a scorching heat. Had it just been him and the Dragon, Ghirahim thought, this battle would have been delightfully equally matched, and he would have been eager to tear victory from his clawed gauntlets at the very last second. As it stood, Zant was there also, weakened only by his lack of killing intent. Ghirahim had almost gotten carried away by the thrill of battle – they were there to oh-so-diplomatically convince Volga, not murder him outright. Playtime was over soon. The butt end of Volga’s spear shot towards him, and he surrendered through a refusal to dodge. As Ghirahim tumbled back onto the stone floor, he watched as Zant stood poorly guarded before the warrior now barreling towards him… And suddenly, the Twilight King disappeared.

There was a mere flash of confusion when Zant vanished from sight. Volga had but a second to check his surroundings before his adversary appeared behind him, his spell-drenched hands now enclosed over his eyes.

A sizzle. He screamed. Ghirahim could only catch a glimpse of what Zant had done between Volga’s frantic clawing at his face, but it was enough to draw the conclusion. Slowly, but surely, a metallic, black mask was spreading across his eyes and fusing to his helmet. As Volga stumbled around the corridor, swinging wildly to find either an anchor or the wicked man who did this to him, the darkness down the cave began to clear.

Looming above the group of men was the rest of the draconic Clan, glaring at them with piercing teal eyes. Some bared their teeth in rage, tongues lashing and sulfurous drool burning holes into the floor, while others swelled their throat sacs, bright and glowing with kindling flame.

Yet Zant stood comfortably, almost oblivious to it all. Ghirahim came to put himself between the Twili and the panicking knight, with his blade drawn to threaten the foes before them. But something told him that even without this measure of protection, Zant would have had the same poise.

Zant spread his arms amicably. His upturned hands served as a gesture of peace, but the slight shimmer in the air betrayed it as a somatic command also, for shields to protect him from the dragons’ rage.

“You wish to have him back, no? Volga is a formidable warrior.”

Deaf and blind to his surroundings, Volga began to shift, as if cracking through the shell of his current form could save him from this blight. It did not – red scales turned to pitch black, jagged and pulsing with cyan magic. Ghirahim kicked the nuisance in the horn when he threatened to get too close.

Zant continued his oration. “Then hear me! If it is Eldin that you want, then my Kingdom shall have space for you. I merely request one favor in return: assist me in taking over Hyrule Castle. Doubtlessly, the Princess will have similar plans to my own, and I need the might of your people to overpower her.”

The teeth of his helmet clattering to expose half his face, Zant smiled. “Does that not sound so violently simple?”

The serpentine heads above them growled, their wild eyes darting between each other. Some snarled, baring their teeth, others squinted, and yet others bowed their heads in resignation. With the loss of their interpreter, the beasts had no way to communicate with this strange adversary. But, after what looked like some squabbling, of nipping at one another and snorting steaming breaths, the hostile among them hesitantly turned and retreated into the caves. The largest dragon remaining locked eyes with Zant and nodded.

Zant’s gentle smile from before turned into a wide grin. With a clap of his hands, Volga stopped struggling. At once, he shrunk in on himself, his draconian features reverting back to humanoid ones. But he was different from before. His armor remained pitch black, jagged and pointy, his eyes covered by a visor that seemed melded to his flesh.

“I will return him to you when Hyrule Castle is secure and my usurpation is finished,” said Zant, nonchalantly under the eyes of the shocked dragons. Doubtlessly, they expected him to revert the curse. “Until then, he will follow me just like this. I’ve found he gets rather uppity when you don’t keep the reins tight… Now, farewell!”

Volga followed Zant wordlessly, like a drone, as the latter cheerfully turned to waltz right back out of the cave. Ghirahim shot one pitying look at the Dragon Warrior’s remaining clan, whose hearts collectively crumbled, and turned to follow.

With three more high-ranking officials under his belt, Zant’s life as a royal stabilized, turned almost mundane. The Temple claimed as their home base, the next phase of his conquering creaked to a slow start, gears a-turning. Piles upon piles of correspondence stacked on his desk, Zant himself laid low, having his commanders at their territory’s borders keep his little place free from violence. It seemed to be working splendidly, because their pretentious pontifex of a King was taking full liberty to have some time off. Ghirahim stood at the staff entrance of the Temple, hands in his sides, waiting for the shadows in the distance to get a little closer.

Drawing near were Zant, riding the very same Bullbo he once carried the defeated Zelda on (he’d developed a fondness for the beast and was very pleased to discover it was still alive); and Lord Dargas, reigning Duke of Tarm. The plan seemed to be to pamper that wretched noble… Something about guaranteeing them a spot in Holodrum, in case they wanted to expand territories. Ghirahim watched the man fuss over his mustache and depend on three separate pages to get his arse down from his ludicrously sized horse and wondered if they couldn’t have picked some other vaguely rebellious province for that scheme.

Ghirahim stepped aside to let through three Bulblins pulling a cart containing the spoils of their hunt, to find Zant trailing not far behind them. Said Twili came up to him smiling brightly.

Such a smile did nothing to Ghirahim. “So. Did you have fun dodging your responsibilities with our good Duke? I don’t see what you’re stalling for.”

“To you it may seem like stalling,” Zant said, handing the massive spear he’d wielded over to a waiting squire. The weapon was so stupidly large, even an oaf like him wouldn’t miss. “But this, too, is part of politics.”

Ghirahim bumped him just a touch too casually for polite company. Said polite company pranced past them, his suit fully in order and dusted off, and the three of them exchanged a cordial greeting.

Ghirahim’s expression soured the second the Duke was out of view. “You’re trying to win simple favors, now? How very unlike you.”

“Perhaps, but I’ve put it to the test,” Zant began, placing a hand on Ghirahim’s shoulder to lead him into the garden. “For a King, there are two ways to assert his authority. The first would be appeasement; the second, tyranny, forcing obedience purely through violence. Considering your status as Demon Lord, I need not guess which of the two you are more familiar with.”

Ghirahim grinned. “And you are not?”

“Oh, I am. Most intimately, in fact. Tyranny is how I claimed Hyrule initially, and it is how Ganondorf led his army, as well. Coincidentally, both attempts failed, resulting in our deaths.”

“So you’ve decided to play nice,” Ghirahim teased, nudging Zant’s hand so it could slip to the small of his back.

“Not exactly… Relying on appeasement alone would require resources that we lack. Those of noble blood want extravagance and their every wish fulfilled. Which is where my experience with Twilit politics will serve me well…” Zant trailed off a moment, kicking a perished rose branch into the shrubbery. “Tell me, Ghirahim-ili. What impression would it give to freshly war-torn people, to be met with a new competitor of the throne, who immediately throws luxurious parties?”

Ghirahim gave it some thought. “I’d imagine it could go either which way. Either you assert yourself as resourceful, or you might strike them as a pompous prick who doesn’t know how to handle his own wealth.” Which wouldn’t be too far off, he thought to himself.

“Precisely. That is a gamble I cannot afford at this stage. So, we show them hospitality, a willingness to listen to their demands… But, just as Hyrule does, we have a trump card.”

Zant lifted his hand, his long sleeve dropping down to flash the mark of Power.

“Connection to the divine. I have claimed the Triforce of Power, as none before me could ever achieve, and I’ve wielded its power to seize the North. Any unwillingness to cave to my demands will be quickly snuffed out under the threat of such a force.”

“A solid middle ground, then.”

“So you could say.”

“I take it, then, that our Summit is being held soon?”

“Yes. The Duke of Tarm just so happens to be the first to arrive,” Zant said, turning to the stables behind them. Just as he stood and watched, the prey he’d claimed was being wheeled in through the back door – a large boar, only marginally smaller than his mount. Both found it macabre, a bit of a cruel joke, one that made Ghirahim turn back and Zant grin all the wider. “I’ve extended invitations to just about all our former allies. Not a soul will be missing out – Unlike Ganondorf, I will not be playing favorites. Our forces need to know they can depend on us.”

Such a bold comment made Ghirahim shake off his discomfort in an instant. He sidled up closer to his monarch, nudging him through his thick robes. “Ah… So you have no favorites, none at all?”

Zant smirked, locking this boldness in place by curling his arm around Ghirahim firmly, affectionately. “Well… Perhaps, Demonkind as of late, has been landing on my good side quite often…”

Laughing, making jabs, huddled in the arms of a man who could crush him. To once again linger in the shadows of a greater ruler, but never losing prominence – like the gem-lain hilt of a blade glistening in the shade of a warrior’s cape. No longer would he have demand over the absolute spotlight, but rather, he would share it with a King, who in turn was completed by the sword he’d wield, his deadly tool of choice. A thousand years it had been, from his point of view, since Ghirahim had last lived like this. It was as nostalgic, as the lethargy of it all made his skin crawl. For now, it did little good to struggle against his overshadowing. He reminded himself that this feeling was what he’d chased ever since his revival… But his choice of pseudo-wielder was, to put it lightly, irking to a painful degree.

The playing field had to be leveled a little bit. He reached over to deliver a harsh pinch to the delicate underside of the Twilight King’s upper arm and reveled in the pathetic shriek it evoked.

#bearwrites #beararts #ghirazant #zant #ghirahim #yuga #wizzro #volga #hyrule warriors #tftk #loz fanfic

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lavaflowe · 1 year ago

Text

JTTW BOOK CLUB

CHPT 7-9

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

Chpt 7

•”All this was probably refined in his stomach by the Samadhi fire to form a single solid mass” I know other deities can use the fire but I’m wracking my brain for when it used before(this point) specifically- My understanding was the furnace refined the immortal elixirs and fruit- I’m going to assume Laozi is just theorizing and doesn’t know what actually happened

•Diamond body….👀

•Erlang gets absolutely DRIPPED out, he earned it FR

•eyes permanently irritated by the smoke churned up the the Xun trigram, someone get this man some eye drops

•he is extra pissed

•HE JUST BODIES LAOZI IM YELLING😂

•”this cosmic being fully fused with nature’s gifts passes with ease through 10,000 toils and tests”

•Big war form out to beat serious ass, he’s not jokin bitch

•” bright and luminous; ….illustrious pearl of mani he is indeed” MMMMM comparing him to a mani- a flaming (wish granting) jewel is hilarious 💀

•Tathagata bringing in the big guns (himself)

•”how tf do you know The Way and not know who I am?? And you’re so….violent” I can sense the side eye

•I wonder if Wukong has previous incarnations?? Buddha says he just reached human form this incarnation but if his rock was there at the beginning of creation, wouldn’t his soul be ‘baking’ (for lack of a better term) the whole time until he hatched?

•” and with a total lack of respect he left a bubbling pool of monkey urine” Iconic moment LMAOOOO

•smart for Wukong to leave a momento- too bad it didn’t matter lol

•ah so he was jumping to visit the pillars again, not run away(supposedly)- he’d rather prove he’s right than escape💀 that checks out

•monkey has been squished, it is now party o’clock

•are you allowed to give the Buddha drugs if it’s an offering? Like wine??🤔 “wtf is this allowed? Wtf”

•”Wukong is wiggling out”

“Dw, take this”

*slaps tag on the mountain like flex tape*

•enough room to breathe and move his hands- I would lose my mind

•Molten copper & iron pellets mimic punishments in hell (just learned this🙏), shedding the Karma like water -I feel like 500 years is pretty good tbh considering everything

Woe molten metal and iron upon ye

Chpt 8 + 9 under cut:

Chpt 8:

•lots of lovely poems in this chapter

•a paragraph recap of the past 7 chapters

•wonder what Feast of the Ullambana Bowl is? (the notes say it’s a mass for the dead and is also know as the Ghost festival, practiced by Taoists and Buddhists)

•”the Chan mind shines bright like a thousand rivers’ moon; true nature’s pure and great as an unclouded sky.”

Lovely poem, and I’m beginning to realize this book is very heavily focused on the Chan school, which I don’t know why I didn’t pick up on sooner? White-Robed Guan Yin is a Chan specific form, usually depicted in their bamboo grove

•Tathagata reveals his 3 baskets of scripture after everyone is done presenting their poems, feels almost like he suggested the celebration to announce these

•Each basket corresponds to scriptures of Heaven, Earth, and the Damned- a total of 15,144 FUCKING SCROLLS

•oooo Guanyin poem!! “ a golden body filled with wisdom, fringes of dangling pearls and jade, …dark hair piled smartly in a coiled-dragon bun. With brows of new moon shape and eyes like two bright stars, her jadelike face beams natural joy. …Her orchid heart delights in green bamboos; her chaste nature loves the wisteria. The living Guanyin from the Cave of Tidal Sound.”

•5 Talismans: Embroidered Cassock that will protect him from falling back into the Wheel of Transmigration, a 9 ring priestly staff that will protect him from poison or harm, 3 tightening fillets- the Golden, the Constructive, and the Prohibitive Spell.

•Guanyin thinks this will take about 2 to 3 years💀 hooooo boy….

•FLOWING SAND RIVER!!! MY 2ND FAV BOY!!!

•Green and Black complexion, Gleaming eyes like the lights beneath a stove, forked mouth with teeth like knives and swords, and disheveled red hair

•like that Wujing is using a priest staff he def took from one of the monks he ate lol

•Wujing fighting Moksa for his life only to drop everything to apologize and talk to Guanyin LMAO

•MOKSA PICKS HIM UP BY THE COLLAR AKFKAKDJDJ

•ah, so Wujing didn’t reincarnate, he was changed, STABBED OVER 100 TIMES EVERY 7 DAYS AND FORCED TO COMMIT CANNABILSM SO HE DOESNT STARVE AS PUNISHMENT- THATS JUST LOVELY😭

•I like the interpretation that he could have been trying to signal a coup by breaking the crystal cup

•Guanyin hearing about Wujing’s string of skulls: it’s a surprise tool that will help us later

•BAJIE TIME

•this idiot bro “HOW DARE YOU TRY TO GET FLOWER PETALS IN MY EYES!!” “IDIOT THAT WAS GUANYIN” “…Guanyin is here??” “LOOK UP”

•Wuneng is reincarnated, he got beat to death in Heaven for hitting on Chang’e LMAOOOOO GET REKT

•ah yes, casually mentions killing his pig family and then his life of eating humans. Lovely.

•AO LIE TIME

•I committed a little accidental arson, please bail me out

•Damn, he got a really short intro

•interesting that Guanyin id’s the Peach Banquet as Wukongs fall from grace. I would def agree with this- eating the peaches like he did was extremely reckless and the beginning of the end imo

•”who tf is talking shit up there”

•No one has ever visited Wukong, I’m guessing the Guards were horrible company

•I like how both Guanyin and Sanzang try to give Wukong a religious name- Guanyin is very happy to hear he has the Wu- prefix as well lol

•arrived in Chang’an, let the hunt begin

Chpt 9:

•Chang’an bb, all blooming flowers surrounded by 8 rivers (DAMN, that’s a lot of water)

•Guangrui got first place in the examination, good for him UwU

•SURPRISE WIFE

•”gave the girl to Guangrui as his bride” UM I THINK SHES THE ONE WHO GRABBED HIM LMAO

•Guangrui has some fated beef with these two random boatmen, Liu Hong and Li Biao- states that he was destined in a previous incarnation to be enemies with them, is this a result of bad karma?

•NOOOOOO MY GUY GUANGRUI

•Liu Hong reminds me of Liu’er Mi-*gunshot*

•since they’re at the bottom of the Hong river, which Dragon King is this?

•Golden Carp coming in clutch, nice

•LADY YIN IS SO METAL LETS GO “she hated the bandit so bitterly that she wished she could devour his flesh and sleep on his skin” DO IT GURL, KILL HIM

•damn, too bad she’s pregnant with Sanzang….dw Girl I know you would kick his ass otherwise…

•there goes his toe…

•get named River Float idiot

•damn bro chill, that wasn’t very monk-like of you

•homie got called an orphan and cried JAKDJSJFJ I FEEL BAD

•she didn’t even check the toe I THOUGHT SHE DID- WHAT WAS THE POINT LMAO

•nvmnd

•I guess licking the eyes is better than spitting on them…sigh…

•GODDAMN THEY RIPPED LIU HONG AND LI BAIO APART….good for them, deserved in fact

•Lady Yin committing suicide even after she was reunited with her husband makes sense, as there was a trend where wives whose husbands died or they were assaulted, killed themselves. This was show loyalty to their husbands and add weight to their claim of SA- Lady Yin’s husband coming back does not change the fact that everyone knows she was forcefully married :((

(I use the term ‘trend’ only as a way to describe the rise and fall in wife suicides tied to either a husbands death or as a response to SA)

#FINALLY CAUGHT UP YIPPEE #I CAN… I CAN DRAW MKRE FOR THESE #<- I say this but I intentionally didn’t post last Sunday so I could make that animation for chapter 7 LMAO #…I have my priorities straight #tho the animation prevented me from doing anything for Sanzang’s chapter RIP #I would have done Lady Yin Justice I swear- she deserves soemthing nice #jttw #jttw book club #<- still not sure about that tag LMAO #Journey to the west #I’ll probably slap all my doodles in one post at some point…#Sun Wukong #tang sanzang #my art #jttw meme #tw: sui mention

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swissmissficrecs · 11 months ago

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Top 10 Sherlock fics by kudos in 2023

Top 10 fics completed in 2023 that garnered the most kudos on AO3. Excluded: chaptered "fics" that are actually collections of standalone ficlets and crossovers that are mostly about the other fandom. Fics that began posting earlier (in some cases, years earlier) obviously have the advantage of more time to rack up kudos. Kudo counts as of 2 Jan 2024.

1. 1,720 kudos: The Case of the Man Who Was Wanted by MyDearLadyDisdain (232K, M, Sherlock/Harry Potter) After an inexplicable case in Surrey, Sherlock is after the strangest criminal he's ever encountered: a mass murderer, that has eluded the authorities for almost 14 years. Unfortunately, Sherlock Holmes is the only one that can see right away that this Harry Potter character is completely innocent. And hang on, is that tea set floating?

2. 1,682 kudos: Shift by stopthat (48K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock is tired. John senses a shift.

3. 1,102 kudos: Ride On by Silvergirl (38K, E, Johnlock) After the disastrous reveal at the Landmark, John tells Sherlock there can be no excuse for what he’s done, and no forgiveness. Sherlock leaves London and starts a new life, and not even the British Government knows where. It’s up to John to track him down and make things right, with a trip around the world and a clue only John would recognize.

4. 851 kudos: Till Death Do Us Part (Not Yet, Not Yet) by Civilized_muppets (8K, T, Johnlock) In which Sherlock and John have been married for years, not that any member of the yard has ever heard of John, much less that Sherlock was married at all, until John is kidnapped from Afghanistan.

5. 797 kudos: The story of the Forgotten Wallet. by Headphones_on_the_Skull (25K, E, Johnlock) Just some dirty Alpha/Omega Johnlock porn.

6. 788 kudos: Nothing to Celebrate by DiscordantWords (30K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.

7. 726 kudos: A Tale of Two Soldiers by batslikepastel (14K, T, Johnlock, Jolto, Mystrade) It's Christmas, and Sherlock and John are finally flatmates again after the tumultuous events of the previous year. But a sudden revelation about John's sexuality and James Sholto's unexpected presence throw a wrench into Sherlock's plans, and his jealousy threatens to overwhelm him even as John remains blithely oblivious. Their relationship has reached a turning point, and the ball is in John's court now.

8. 671 kudos: Nightjet by khorazir (22K, M, Johnlock) Officially deceased for eighteen months and still looking for the last remainders of Moriarty’s criminal empire, an exhausted Sherlock boards a night train in Germany to bring him to his next hunting ground. Due to a mishap with the sleeper cars, he is forced to share a compartment with a stranger – who turns out to be not quite as strange as Sherlock thought. The universe isn’t lazy, after all …

9. 646 kudos: Our Love Keeps the Things It Finds by her_ladyships_soap (25K, T, Mystrade) Everyone has a soulmate. Everyone. It's simple human biology. Over the course of every person's life, they develop tattoos of the things their soulmate loves most. Though he has always disliked the concept, Mycroft Holmes is painted from head to toe with dozens of brightly-coloured tattoos. Greg Lestrade, once-firm believer and hopeless romantic, has just nine. They are all quietly sophisticated, sketched in smooth shades of black and grey and easy to hide. Neither of them has gained a tattoo in years. But when they both suddenly find new markings, things finally fall into place.

10. 636 kudos: In Fine Spirits by EventHorizon (189K, M, Mystrade, Johnlock) A very upscale bar/private club needs a bartender and scruffy, punky Greg Lestrade is certain he has the right skills (and needs the job), so walks in to apply in person. He didn't realize that someone else he knew works there, also. Though… 'knew' probably isn't the proper term for a one-night stand where you didn't even learn their name during the fun…

#rec list #best

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doyawalker · 1 year ago

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Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind#9

chapter 8.

contains swearing, alcohol consumption, clubbing

masterlist

previous chapter

taglist: @namjooning-94, @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad, @parkinglot-nights , @y2kcy3brz

And By The End Of The Night, I Wanna Feel Like The Sky Is Dripping On Every Part Of Me

The Attic was a small club that only had a single floor, a few tables scattered around the edges, and a backdoor that led to the outside smoking area. It wasn’t fancy and maybe that was the reason why it was so popular. It wasn’t pretending to be anything that it wasn’t.

Being on the VIP list of the Attic meant that you got a table for you and your friends, a bottle of sparkling wine, and early entry, meaning that you didn’t have to wait outside in line like the many other people you had walked past by.

To say the club was packed was an understatement. It was always full when you went clubbing there but on that particular weekend there seemed to be even more people than usual. It was hard to spot anyone in that crowd as everyone kind of blurred together, bodies dancing to the beat, the air smelled like cigarettes and perfume.

You felt good.

The tequila shots had already done their job and had you giggling all the way walking from your flat over to the club that was only a few blocks apart from your home. Sori was sitting next to you, some friends of hers that you didn’t know standing around her and talking to her, while you were content with simply people-watching, your eyes aimlessly wandering around the club.

Taehyung emerged from somewhere beside you, his hands full with shot glasses, a big grin on his face.

“Who’s ready for more shots?”, he yelled over the loud music, bringing the glasses down onto the table.

With sparkling eyes, you threw him a thankful smile, grabbing two shots at once and clinking them against Tae’s.

You wanted to get shitfaced tonight. You weren’t drinking often so whenever you actually were, you wanted to make sure that it was hitting right. Regrets were something for the morning after.

Downing the two shots one after another, your face distorted in a grimace amidst the burning sensation trickling down your throat, followed by the fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

“Are you trying to drown some worries I don’t know about?”, Tae asked beside you, now sitting on the seat next to you, one eyebrow raised in concern.

You laughed it off, slapping him against his arm half-heartedly, but avoiding the eye contact. Were you? You didn’t know.

“Shouldn’t we go dance?”, you giggled, already forgetting the question he asked you. When you looked at him, his face turned blurry.

But the bass of the music was echoing in your chest, and your feet wanted to move.

“Come on.”, you urged him, pulling him up from his chair and pulling him with you toward the middle of the room. He tried to protest, but you knew it was only for show. He loved to dance and he loved to be the center of attention, he just never admitted it.

After pushing through the crowd to get somewhere more in the center, you turned around to him, your eyes falling on him, your body starting to dance to the beat.

And as you expected, he didn’t take long to follow, maintaining enough space between the two of you, as you both let loose, giggling and laughing at each other’s ridiculous moves, not caring one bit about anything in the world at that moment.

He walked into the club at around 11 PM, the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke immediately filling his senses. He was closely behind Jimin and Hoseok, as they made their way through the overcrowded room, trying to get to their table. His gaze wandered left and right, catching a few girls staring at him, smiling suggestively, or straight up trying to walk up to him, but he quickly hid in the mass, his eyes only searching for one particular person. You.

Tae took your hands, clapping them together in the rhythm of the beat, his eyes sparkling in amusement. You laughed at him, the world around you spinning so much that you could only focus on him. The music changed into a new song, making Tae change the way he was bopping his head side to side, his fluffy hair bouncing wildly around, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. When was the last time you had that much fun?

Finally sitting down on one of the chairs at their table, his eyes continued to scan the room. He had seen the girl sitting at the table next to theirs, she seemed vaguely familiar to him and then he remembered that he saw her sitting next to you at Hoseok’s and Jin’s party. She seemed to be a friend of yours. Which was a good sign, because if she was here, he was sure that you were here too. The question was only, where?

You twirled around, your hips still moving side to side to the music, as you threw a glance over to your table, your eyes searching for Sori. She was missing out on all the fun.

It took you a second to remember where your table was because quite frankly, everything looked the same to you right now. Except for one thing. One thing wasn’t looking right. And that was Jeon Jungkook sitting at the table next to yours, his eyes locking on yours the very second you looked at him.

His eyes finally found you in the middle of the crowd. And when they did, he caught you looking at him and there was this spark in his chest that he tried hard to suppress. Your movements came to a sudden stop, your eyes widening a bit as he saw the realization hitting your face. You looked breathtaking. A light green dress hugging your figure, multiple bracelets dangling from your wrists, catching the light from the projectors over your head, your hair falling beautifully. And when you looked at him like that, your eyes unable to look away, he couldn’t help but wink at you, grinning confidently. Tonight was the night.

You felt your face heating up as he winked at you, your body getting rigid, your eyes caught in his. The alcohol was clouding your mind and it was almost impossible for you to form a coherent thought, but your heart was able to feel what it wanted to feel. Desire. You knew it was wrong, you knew your head didn’t want the same, but right now you wanted him to walk over to you and dance with you. And so he did.

You watched him get up from his seat, his gaze not leaving you. He looked amazing that night. His curls were reaching down the nape of his neck, framing his face flawlessly, a tight, black sleeveless shirt stretching over his broad chest, showing off his tattoos that were still visible in the dark room. And he was moving in your direction, holy fuck.

But the sudden grip around your arm finally made you snap back into reality. Turning you around to face him, Tae looked at you urgently, his gaze darting back and forth between you and Jungkook.

Don’t.

Even in your drunken state, you could decipher the word he was mouthing to you, shaking his head to underline its meaning.

And then the haze in your mind started to clear out enough for you to realize that he was right. This was a bad idea. Your body was betraying you. Shamelessly. You shouldn’t fall for it, you CAN’T fall for it. You needed to get away from him.

And so you didn’t protest as Tae pulled you further down into the crowd.

Disappointment filled his stomach immediately, cursing under his breath at Taehyung. It had been the perfect moment. He couldn’t let you go so easily. He needed to talk to you, be in your presence even though he didn’t want to admit that. There was something going rampant in his chest whenever he was around you, something that he was craving by now. Although he knew how cautious you were around him. He couldn’t blame you. But as his eyes kept on following your figure in the mass of people, he wished it was him by your side instead of Taehyung.

You only dared to glance back over your shoulder once and when you did, you were met by his eyes still lingering onto you. And so you quickly looked away again, shaking your head slightly to get the thoughts out of your head. You wanted the carefree, goofy-dancing with Tae moments back, not this mess occupying your mind. You needed another shot.

Gesturing toward the bar, you tried to inform Taehyung of your plan, but the music was drowning out every sound that came from your mouth. You were closer to the speakers now, so there was no chance of trying to communicate.

You imitated the movement of taking a shot and he finally understood. Signing you a thumbs-up, he grabbed you by the shoulder, the two of you making your way to the bar together. But the dance floor had gotten even more crowded with time, people pressing against you from every side, your feet stumbling aimlessly around, as you tried to keep your destination in front of you. And when you finally tripped out of the mass of people, your hands reaching out for the table of the bar for support, Tae was no longer behind you. Looking around you, your eyes searched the room for him, but you couldn’t find him.

Sighing, you turned back around to the bartender, waving your hand at him to get his attention.

And suddenly you emerged from the crowd next to him, stumbling toward the bar and looking around frantically, but your eyes didn’t land on him. Your body pushed itself in front of him, your hands gesturing toward the bartender, as you bent over the bar table to yell your order in his ear. He couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering over the lines of your body, lingering on your backside for a second longer than necessary. You were so close to him.

“Two tequila shots. Silver, please.”, you screamed at the bartender, signing a two with your fingers to him. If Tae wouldn’t show up, you would just drink the shots on your own, you figured. Leaning back, you turned around to rest your back against the bar table, while you kept on searching for Tae, but as your eyes caught on his, his tall frame standing right in front of you, your heart almost skipped a beat.

You finally turned around, your eyes widening a bit as they landed on him. You looked even more stunning upfront. The confident grin crept on his face almost automatically, as he took a step closer to you, your perfume intoxicating his mind immediately.

“Hi.”, he said, leaning down to you a bit.

His voice was reaching your ear effortlessly as if he didn’t even have to try to speak against the loud music. He looked even better upfront. And when he bent down to you, his usual smell of cigarettes and perfume clouded your senses.

“Hi.”, you responded, the alcohol making you feel more confident than you actually were.

The bartender put your order beside you on the table, tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention. You turned around, grabbing one of the shot glasses and the salt shaker next to it. Without thinking twice, he grabbed the second shot, winking at you as he dragged his tongue across the back of his hand. You stared at him with your beautiful eyes, almost perplexed as he reached his hand out to you, holding it in front of you so that you could sprinkle some salt on the wet spot he created.

You shook the salt over his hand, having trouble aiming it correctly and spilling parts of it to the floor. A giggle escaped your lips, as you looked back up at him, your cheeks blushing by the way his eyes were focused on you.

“Cheers.”, he said, holding his glass in your direction so that you could bring yours against his.

“Cheers.”, you replied, licking the salt off the back of your hand and downing the shot in one go, before biting on the slice of lemon that had been floating in your glass.

The tequila ran down your throat, leaving a satisfying burn in the back of it, as you put your empty glass back on the bar behind you, before leaning your back against it comfortably, your gaze finding him again.

You looked up at him under your fluttering eyelashes, your mind back to its clouded state, making the idea of talking to him seem like a good one. Tae’s protest was somewhere deeply buried in the back of your head, your heart taking over the reins now.

“So, how’s your evening going?”, you asked him, your voice giving away the fact that this hasn’t been your first shot of the night. Your body seemed relaxed and he noticed that this was the first time that you initiated a conversation between the two of you. A good sign.

“Well, the past five minutes have definitely been the best of this evening so far.”, he answered, taking a chance by stepping even closer to you, his eyes lingering on your exposed chest for a second. God.

“Enjoy it while you can. As soon as Tae finds me, you’ll probably not see me again tonight.”

He furrowed his brows at that, putting one hand down on the bar table beside you. Your eyes flickered over to the muscles in his arm for a moment and he let himself relish in your attention.

“Is he your new bodyguard?”, he asked, not caring enough to hide the resentment in his voice.

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side, which made you look so unbelievably irresistible, as you answered.“Jealous much?”

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head slightly.

“Just curious.”

“He’s my roommate.”, you explain, resting both your arms on the table behind you, your skin grazing his hand in the movement. He wanted more.

“He never said anything about a roommate.”

“Why would he?”

“Friends tell each other such things, don’t they?”

A humorless giggle erupted from your chest, and while he noticed the bitterness in it, the sound still made something move in the pit of his stomach.

“Friends also don’t fuck with a friend’s ex, do they?”, you ask, your body leaning forward, your eyes challenging him.

Tilting his head in confusion, he noticed how it became harder and harder for him to concentrate the closer your body came to his.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re not stupid, although it’s hard to believe sometimes.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Tae’s little ex-fling. The blonde girl at the party. At Hoseok's and Jin’s.”

As the realization slowly seeped into his mind, his eyes finally darted to a point somewhere behind you, as he cursed silently under his breath. Of course, you had seen Lydia clinging to him and it wasn’t hard to add two and two together. But this wasn’t a simple equation.

“I never fucked her. I also didn’t know that she had something going on with Tae. She tried to hit on me several times, but I don’t do that.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, creating a bit of distance again. There was something unreadable flashing over your face and he didn’t like the direction this conversation was heading to.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Why would I lie to you?”

“You gave me several reasons two years ago why I shouldn’t believe a thing you say.”

Your words struck him like a knife, his jaw clenching together, as everything started to make sense now. There were a lot of things you still didn’t know. And maybe even more things that you shouldn’t know about.

You saw the way his body tensed up, something flaring up in his eyes that you couldn’t interpret. You didn’t know if you would regret saying that the next day. Maybe it had been too honest, too open. But it seemed like you hit a nerve, finally getting him to give away some of his emotions. Because this wasn’t the same reaction as before, not the nonchalant acting where he tried to make it seem like nothing ever happened. He knew more than he had tried to make you believe. He remembered. You knew that now.

He sighed, his head bowing down to you once more. Your mind started to race with thoughts as you suddenly realized where this was heading, now that he was acknowledging the past. Could this be..?

“Y/N, I think there is-”

But he couldn’t even finish his sentence, because suddenly Taehyung popped out of the crowd next to you, his hand immediately gripping your arm and pulling you a step away from Jungkook.

“There you are!”, Tae exclaimed loudly, his eyes darting between you and Jungkook as he examined you carefully. “You okay?”

You nodded, smiling at him half-absently, the room still spinning around you but your body was okay. Your head was not on the other hand. As you looked back up at Jungkook, unsaid words still lingered in the air between you and you felt this urgency to talk to him. It was the same feeling as back then. When you always wanted to talk about how you were feeling, how much he was hurting you. As if the cycle was repeating itself.

But Taehyung didn’t give you much time to keep thinking about that, as he gave Jungkook a simple nod, pulling you back into the crowd with him.

He sat at his table for the rest of the night, sipping on his drink and his eyes glued onto you. You were dancing, your hips swaying side to side with the beat of the music, your hands in the air or roaming over your body. Tae was dancing somewhere beside you, together with the other girl from your table but he didn’t pay him much mind. He was too focused on the way your body was moving, a content smile on your lips, as you seemed to be so lost in the moment. And when you closed your eyes, the lights of the club hitting your face, painting it in a beautiful red and white and blue, it seemed like the world was slowing down, everything around him blurred as he could only see you.

He knew he had to tell you the truth. Not only about back then. But about this time as well. Maybe you would listen to him. Maybe you would believe him. And maybe you could give him a second chance. Because he wanted it badly.

#bts ff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #bts fic rec #jungkook #jungkook fic #out of sight out of mind

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whinlatter · 1 year ago

Note

Cho Chang for the random character ask: 4, 9, 12, 27, 43

cho! this was actually so fun to think about. cho is an underrated character and a boss bitch and i for one have relished the opportunity to think more deeply about her, so cheers for that anon! (i'm merging the other ask i got about cho with this one for a bumper cho post)

1. Canon I outright reject

i do not tend to outright reject canon because i am a boring yawn canon compliant girlie but i will say i find it weird to think that cho would be randomly checking/carrying her DA coin on the night that harry just happens to arrive back at hogwarts in DH. it’s not even for plot it’s just for the ensemble vibes. pointless cameo sorry! the whole point of failed high school romances is to never resolve them and just memory block them out for all eternity until you bump into them in the veg section at the big supermarket when you go home for christmas and make awkward small talk then see them again at the checkouts and want to die

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

part of the reason cho was so (understandably) distraught after cedric's death was because of a dynamic in their relationship of cho revering/idolising cedric that only deepened after his death as he became somewhat canonised in popular memory. when they got together, cedric was a seventh year and cho was a fifth year. often when you're 15/16 you definitely look at 17-18 year olds like they're the coolest people on the planet and you're lucky to be in their orbit basking in their great worldly wise glory (lol). and while i’m not doing up age-gap-is-problematic-discourse i am saying that if you're in the last year of school and your mate starts going out with someone two years below who is doing their GCSEs or whatever you do a) obviously take the piss out of them but more importantly b) tend to see a pretty big gap in maturity and life experience that often adds a weird power differential in the relationship. that's not to say that cho didn't really miss cedric's company, but also that the grief was made worse by the fact that she likely saw him as a saint-like figure she was in awe of, a view that only received mass endorsement after dumbledore's eulogy of cedric, so she's not even really able to mourn a real person, but just the idea of someone purely heroic and good who she will never be able to replicate again

4. Favorite line

“He asked me out, you know,” she said in a quiet voice. “A couple of weeks ago. Roger. I turned him down, though.”

in this house we stan 👏 petty 👏 queens 👏

or...

“What about your parents?” asked Harry. “Well, they’ve forbidden me to get on the wrong side of Umbridge too,” said Cho, drawing herself up proudly. “But if they think I’m not going to fight You-Know-Who after what happened to Cedric —”

actually huge props for cho for joining a resistance fight club with no parental support for anti-ministry action. because in canon you have the weasleys whose parents are so politically involved, and whose sense of political right and wrong is (bar percy) so instinctual because it's how they were raised, it can be easy to overlook how significant it is when other characters who don't come from that family background/political lineage get involved in risky acts of open rebellion. like yes her defence of marietta is misguided, but cho is a boss bitch who lets her grief be fuel for a good fightback and i for one applaud it

8. Unpopular opinion about them

ok this is going to sound like me doing up pure ginny defender but for all ginny gets slated for having many a jealous moment (including with cho in DH) i do think it is Interesting that people overlook how insanely jealous cho is of hermione lol. i do like that element of cho's character - or rather, think it lets her be well-rounded and interesting, giving an insight into how the trio are perceived by other members of the student body, but also allows cho have this messy petty teenage side to her (people often tend to write her in fic as this very worldly mature grieving widow figure, instead of like, a girl going thru it and wildly acting out emotionally and developing a whole host of insecure abandonment issues that are mostly to do with her grief). but i love how she like sees red and goes full how many girls are you meeting after me!!! alexa play bust your windows!!! i am going to storm out and YOU are going to pay for these coffees!!! so yeah, my unpopular opinion is cho is petty and messy and obviously harry fucks up more but she does kind of act up and you know what, that's fine! she's still worthy of the world! (you know all i do is ride on my let girls giggle and be messy crusade)

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

i stan the temper tantrum cho has when she loses the quidditch final. go girl have your strop! she’s just like me fr

12. Crack headcanon

cho's gang of girlies wore potter stinks badges in the dormitory after that horrendous date to cheer her up. and she was like yeah you know what! he does!

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

ohhh man i am going to have to pass on this because i literally cannot name any smells. she's too prestige and gorgeous to not smell lovely though!

28. How they feel about insert character of your choice from the same fandom

i am kind of obsessed with a cho vs ginny bitter rivalry that doesn't actually have all that much to do with harry lol. cho is two school years older than ginny (given ginny is an end-of-august birthday baby, cho fully could be three years older than her, given hermione is two calendar years older than ginny and is only in the year above). so ginny is a little pipsqueak irrelevance to cho, whereas i expect cho lives in ginny's head rent-free while she's still in the throes of her deep unrequited crush on harry. then ginny goes out with michael, cho's teammate, and is in the DA, so probably is around a lot more, maybe they're semi-friendly, all going fine - until ginny pops up for the quiddich final in ootp and publicly demolishes cho on the quidditch pitch. can you imagine being a (almost or actual) seventeen year old getting the snitch snatched from under your nose by gryffindor's fourteen year old second-rate substitute seeker (especially after a year of playing badly?) i'd be fuming. no wonder cho cries and chucks her broom on the ground. so then ginny chucks michael for being a 'sore loser' (i think this must have also been a bit connected to cho, if all ravenclaw are having a great big public sulk lol), and then michael immediately gets with cho (canon implies that evening lmao). even if ginny didn't care about michael all that much, there is something pretty galling about your ex moving on to your sporting rival an hour after you break up lmao, and something very messy from cho to try and get back at the girl who just beat you by immediately hooking up with her ex lol. you can just imagine michael and cho bitterly slagging off ginny in between snogs at that post-match commiseration party. and then the following year, when ginny beats cho again, in a match cho 100% viewed as a re-match and a chance to finally best the person who humiliated her... i'm just saying, those two hate each other (at least as teenagers) and it doesn't even really involve harry lol. and i for one love it!

43. 3 favorite foods and 3 they despise

i am also bad at questions like these i'm so sorry 🫣 literally have no world/character-building capabilities to imagine people's favourite anythings. i do like the idea of cho being thoroughly unimpressed by the quality of the hogwarts cooking though! do i back a fleet of house elves living out their days in a castle in the scottish highlands to know their way around any kind of asian cuisine? no i do not. cho would have every right to fume

#cho chang #hot girl alert #cho is canonically an absolute baddie #and i respect it deeply!#ask game #headcanons

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talonabraxas · 4 months ago

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10 Kali Ma Mantras, Chants, Hymns & Quotes for Pleasing the Dark Goddess

Kali Ma is known as the preserve of Earth, but due to her destructive powers she is also known as “Dark Mother”. The name Kali means She, who is Beyond Time.

To aid her son in his endeavor to rid the three worlds of the multiplying demon, Raktabija, Parvati entered the cosmic battlefield as the dreaded goddess Kali – dark as death, gaunt with sunken eyes, gaping mouth, with long disheveled hair covering her naked body.

She is considered as a berserk form of Durga/Parvati, who is the consort of Lord Shiva. Kali Ma is simultaneously portrayed as the giver and destructor of life. However, in most of the interpretations, she is portrayed as ferocious and evil.

She is the mother of the world and the treasure-house of compassion. She is considered as the primordial mass from which all life arose.

1. Bija Mantra: “Kreem” This mantra will protect you from all the evil forces.

2. Simple form of Kali Mantra: “Om Krim Kali” K stands for full knowledge, R means she is auspicious, I means she bestows booms, and M that she gives freedom

3. Kali Mantra: “Om Kring Kalikaye Namah” This mantra is simple and transforms the devotee to pure consciousness.

4. Simple Kali Mantra “Om Sri Maha Kalikayai Namaha” Only a few people use this mantra due to its purgative nature. 5. Kalika-Yei Mantra “Om Klim Kalika-Yei Namaha” This mantra is believed to bring relief from all kinds of problems, no matter how complex it is.

6. The fifteen syllable mantra “Om Hrim Shreem Klim Adya Kalika Param Eshwari Swaha” It is believed that this mantra brings rapid growth to one’s spirituality. 7. Kali Mantra for Worship “Kring Kring Kring Hing Kring Dakshine Kalike Kring Kring Kring Hring Hring Hung Hung Swaha” The Mantra consists of three seeds, krim, hum and hrim, and the name ‘dakhshina kalike’ and ‘swaha’, which signifying offering. This mantra is used by the devotees of Kali, the preserver of Earth, who saves us from all the ignorance and the fear of death.

8. Kali Gayatri “Om Maha Kalyai Ca Vidmahe Smasana Vasinyai Ca Dhimahi Tanno Kali Prachodayat” Meaning: Om Great Goddess Kali, the One and only one, who resides in the Ocean of Life and in the Cremation Grounds that dissolve the world. We focus our energies on you, may you grant us boons and blessings.

9. Kali Chants a). “Om Kali, Kali! Om Kali, Kali! Namostute, namostute, namo! Namostute, namostute, namo!”

b). “Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali Om Kali Ma!” These are the simple chants to please the Black Goddess.

10. Dakshina Kali Dhyan Mantra : This is also known as karpuradi stotram. “Om karala-badanam ghoram mukta-kEshim chatur-bhuryam. kalikam dakshinam dibyam munda-mala bibhushitam sadya-chinna shira kharga bama-dordha karambujam abhayam baradan-chaiba dakshina-dardha panikam” Meaning: Om. Fierce of face, she is dark, with flowing hair and four-armed. Dakshina Kalika divine, adorned with a garland of heads. In Her lotus hands on the left, a severed head and a sword. She bestows sanctuary and blessings with her right hands.

11. Maha kali dhyanam “Om khargang chakra-gadeshu-chapa-parighan shulang bhushundIng shirah shankhang sanda-dhatIng karistri-nayanAng sarbanga-bhushabritam. nIlashma-dyutimasya pada-dashakang sebe maha kalikang yamastou-chhaite harou kamalajye hantung madhung kaitavam.”

Meaning: Aum, Her ten hands is holding a scimitar, disk, mace, arrows and bow, lance, club, a skull and a conch shell. She is a three-eyed goddess, Her body is covered with ornaments, and Her countenance with the brilliance of blue diamonds, with ten limbs. We offer our service to mahakali, She who Brahma praised for protection from the demons madhu and kaitava, when Bishnu was in sleep.

Goddess Kali by Talon Abraxas

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thequeenofsarcaasm · 3 months ago

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Extracts that spoke to me 🙏🏾

1. I read this and I was like "how extremely confident of him but HE'S SO REALLLLL" Mothers are unsafe when Gojo Satoru is in towwwnnnm

2. Welcome to the club Gojo I've lived less and I have wanted to be a Gojo-Kesa so badly

3. MY HEART DID THE SQUEEZE THING and I fell in loveeee

4. PURPLE THE COLOR OF ROYALTY!!!

5. Maybe I should start implementing this way of thinking in my life. It's so obnoxiously confident, it just might work. Like I know my abilities and I (somewhat) know what I want. It could be the push that gets me to apply effort. Bc that's what I want and I know what to do to get it. So I'm getting it...

6. Ughhhhh this DID IT for me idk idk

7. Cocky little shit (I want to be him so bad)

8. This way of thinking is the reason why I'm so slack in every part of my life. I rarely see beyond my birthday. I genuinely thought I'd be dead by my 18th (not by my own hand though) simply because I couldn't imagine anything else for my life after that. But wouldn't that have been a shame bc I only got to know ab jjk a few months shy of my 19th.

9. It felt like Gojo's piercing blue eyes where speaking to my soul not Geto. When I read this it shamed me into studying, I don't know why I felt so called out

10. Gojo speaking for the masses AGAIN

Lil extra bc Tumblr limited me to just 10 of these:

What does the expensive whiskey bottle in Geto's room at the club say about him? Just curious bc I genuinely don't know what to think.

I really believed Geto was gaslighter supreme before Shoko pulled up and shoved me off a cliff I didn't know I was on.

I didn't know how hard it would be to imagine Toji in a suit. Was he in a suit? Have I seen a fan art of him in a suit? My brain is starting to log off

The boy next to me in the library was probably pissed bc I was heavy breathing (bc of excitement) and kept on whispering to my phone (like when Gojo asked favorite food, I scream whispered "I knew that!")

The yap exhaustion is setting in plus coming down from an emotional high, I'm about to have that good after fic sleep

Was Toji in a suit? To be honest, I don’t even know even though I wrote it lmaooo

I was more focused on Gojo having a panic attack after he put two and two together and realized Toji used to fuck his ticket to greatness.

As for the Yamazaki bottle, it means that he’s the hottest bitch in charge

-Respected by his colleagues

-Super sophisticated

-Fawned over by rich men

#jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #fic: canary in the coal mine #asks

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hbyrde36 · 1 year ago

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Chapter 12!

Steve Harrington: Vampire Hunter

ao3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

CW: nsfw/smut ahead

It was a little surreal, walking up the steps of the Corroded Coffin after the events of his last visit to the place. At least this time he’d be walking in the front doors instead of trekking through the unholy depths of the city sewer. Steve was a little surprised that this was where Eddie had chosen to meet. He’d expected to be called to the vampire’s office at Guilty Pleasures, presuming the strip club would be his base of operations now that he was in charge, but then again, this place had belonged to Billy. Was it possible that when Eddie took on the role of Master of the City he’d also inherited the former leader’s estate?

There was a show on that night, some theatrical metal band that Steve had never heard of, and the place was as busier than he’d ever seen it. He scanned the crowd, unsure of what or who he was looking for, only that there would be someone waiting for him at the door.

A young girl with bright blue eyes and red hair caught and held his gaze for so long, he started to feel uncomfortable. No, not uncomfortable. That tingling feeling on the back of his neck had nothing to do with the girl’s intense stare, terrifying as it was, it was the power coming off of her that was making his skin crawl.

She sized Steve up, her eyes scanning from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, taking quite the detour inbetween. She looked a little young to be ogling him like that, but he was reasonably sure that she was much older than she appeared.

“Are you him?” The girl asked pointedly, with a single raised eyebrow.

“I’m Steve, yeah, if that's what you mean.”

“Hmmpf,” She hummed, tilting her head slightly. “I thought you’d be bigger. Follow me.” The girl quickly turned on her heel and walked away, not even bothering to look back and see if he was following.

Steve furrowed his brow, looking down at himself in confusion. He wasn’t short or anything, 5 '11'’ was a perfectly respectable height, thank you very much. He wasn’t skinny either, though he supposed he could stand to lift a few more weights here and there in between cardio workouts. She certainly couldn’t have been talking about his personality. They’d barely exchanged a handful of words, hardly enough for a first impression, let alone a judgment like that. Come to think of it, why was he letting this little girl get to him anyway?

Steve shook his head at himself and jogged a little to catch up with the red ponytail bouncing its way through the thick mass of concertgoers.

While the girl moved easily through the crowd, like the bow of a ship cutting through deep waters, Steve had to fight his way through the sea of leather-clad bodies. He caught up to her eventually, staying close so as to not get lost in the shuffle.

He had assumed he was meeting Eddie in the underground, but that appeared not to be the case since she was leading him further into the venue and up towards the balcony. He wanted to be annoyed, the whole reason he had come here in the first place was to see if Eddie knew anything about the murder and he couldn’t exactly ask those types of questions around this many people, but he was too nervous to manage it properly.

Once they were in the upper section of the theater it was much easier to get around since there were so few seats up there and the only other people around were those few who could afford the insane price for these private sections.

Steve grew impatient as they passed door after door until the girl finally stopped at the one that must have housed their destination.

She knocked twice, not waiting for any sort of signal that he could detect anyway, before stepping inside.

Steve was surprised to find two men standing to attention like sentries just inside the door, even more so when he realized that one of them was Jonathan, the wererat. They shared a brief nod of recognition. He didn’t know the other guard but thought he could safely assume the guy was another wererat by the way his energy felt so similar to Jonathan’s in Steve’s head. Grant, his nametag read, which almost made Steve chuckle. He knew that all wereanimals were human before they caught the disease, officially called lycanthropy, but it still seemed funny to him when they had such mundane names, same with vampires.

Red abandoned him immediately, taking a seat on the plush leather couch that sat in one corner of the space. She wedged herself between a young black man that Steve didn’t recognize and a girl who, judging by their resemblance, had to be his sister. Both of the new faces sang with an otherworldly energy, not the same as the redhead. So not vampires, but something more akin to Jonathan and Grant. Some other flavor of wereanimal he supposed.

On the other side of the box sat a small private bar complete with a surprisingly human bartender. One seat was taken up by another new face. A tall vampire with very long, very straight black hair, and an easy smile.

The other three stools were taken up by familiar forms. Dustin, Jeff, the vampire from Guilty Pleasures who had helped Steve out after he’d been bitten by Billy, and of course… Eddie.

Eddie, who looked somehow even better than Steve remembered.

He was dressed head to toe in all black. Skin tight leather pants tucked into boots with just a smidge of a heel. His shirt was a similar style to those Steve had seen on the man before, apart from its color. With long frilly sleeves and collar, it was almost antique looking at first glance, but on closer examination the body of the shirt was entirely sheer.

He saw Eddie only in profile at first, but one nipple was clearly visible through the light fabric, as was a hint of the line of hair that disappeared into his pants. His curls were pulled up, reminding Steve instantly of the dream they had once shared, of Eddie dancing on a pole just for him. There was something new to catch his attention as well, various gold hoops, studs, and dangling jewels hung from both of Eddie’s ears, glittering in the light low light.

Steve stood frozen in the doorway as the dark haired vampire turned and their eyes met for the first time in months. His mouth went dry, pulse quickening. He’d thought, well, he’d hoped with all the time apart that maybe Eddie’s presence wouldn’t affect him quite so much, but he was wrong.

Oh god, he was so wrong.

The pull was worse than ever and it took all of Steve's willpower not to cross the room and climb right into the man’s lap.

He couldn't seem to wrench his gaze away and panicked briefly thinking that it was Eddie using mind tricks on him, before he remembered that he couldn’t. With the first and second marks firmly in place, Eddie had less power over him than ever. Which meant that this fascination was all him.

Fuck.

Steve dropped his gaze to the floor as he entered the room, finally letting the door close behind him, not for fear of being compelled but for self-preservation. He couldn't stare into those deep chocolate drowning pools that, power or no, he could get so easily lost in. Eyes that tonight were framed not only by the fan of Eddie's naturally long eyelashes, but were also lined in black, artfully smudged into smoky wings at the corners.

He was beautiful.

Steve took a deep breath and conjured up images from that morning’s crime scene in stark detail to remind himself of why he was here. He could do this. Just a quick interview and then he would get the hell out here and as far away from this temptation as possible.

“Harrington.” Eddie greeted him, rising from his seat but thankfully remaining a safe distance away. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”

Steve looked back up hesitantly, catching Dustin’s nervous stare from where he sat behind Eddie for a second before offering an answer.

“Maybe I came to congratulate you on the promotion. Master of the City is a pretty tall order. I didn’t think you had the kind of power it takes to keep control of a city.” He was thrilled that, though he felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin, his words came out strong and even.

“You and everyone else.” Eddie remarked, with more honestly than Steve would have expected.

It was subtle, but he sounded tired too, strained, regardless of the front he was trying to put off with the clothes, makeup, and entourage. It couldn’t all be for Steve’s benefit, and it had him wondering what sort of trouble the creatures of the city were giving the new head vampire and If there were others after Eddie in the same way that Humans First was.

That wasn’t Steve’s problem though, he had to keep reminding himself of that.

Apparently he’d been quiet for too long, and Eddie spoke again. “I know better than to hope this is a personal call. It’s okay Steve, just tell me what you came here for so you can scurry off back to your life of raising the dead and pretending I don't exist.”

Steve frowned, feeling like he wanted to defend himself or maybe apologize?

He wasn’t sure.

He grit his teeth hard enough that his jaw cracked, hating the way his thoughts swirled and his emotions flared hot and cold around this vampire. Life had been so much simpler before. He’d know what was right and what was wrong then, and he wouldn’t have been struggling this hard to not close the distance between them.

Steve looked around the room, taking stock of just how many ears with supernatural hearing were around, and also gave himself a second to get a grip before looking back at Eddie.

“There is something I need to speak with you about, but it’s police business. Is there someplace more private we could talk?” He asked, finally.

Eddie’s eyebrows rose slightly but otherwise he kept his face carefully blank. He cleared his throat roughly which seemed like an odd thing for a vampire to have to do, and suddenly Steve wondered if Eddie was having some of the same difficulties he was.

Before the vampire could respond, Steve’s ears were abruptly assaulted by the overwhelming sound of power cords and thumping bass, drawing his attention and reminding him that there was in fact a concert going on outside of this weird bubble he’d been brought into. The box they were standing in was positioned high above the crowd, dead center facing the stage.

The sight was normal enough, a band consisting of a pair of guitarists, one also being the lead singer, a bass player and a drummer with one of the most complex setups Steve had ever seen. Less typical were the extra performers on stage, namely a giant snake that looked too big to be real and a woman dressed as a belly dancer who appeared to be charming the humongous reptile to the beat of the music.

Steve…was not a fan of snakes. They didn’t bother him as much as rodents did, though after the events of summer he thought he might be over that particular phobia, but there was just something about snakes. The way they moved, the feel of their scales, their smell, all of it conspired to set off goosebumps running up and down his arms.

There was another reason this particular serpent was making him so nervous, and that was the unmistakable pulse of power he could feel coming from the creature.

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to pretend he wasn’t sweating with fear. Of course Eddie would book a band that performed with, not only a giant fucking murder noodle, but a magical one at that.

A hand touched his shoulder and Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. It was Eddie trying to get his attention. Steve wanted to lash out, but realized with how loud the room now was, the man could have been shouting his name this whole time and he might not have heard.

Eddie tilted his head towards the door before setting off in that direction himself, a clear indication that Steve should follow him.

It was quieter out in the hall but Steve could still hear the music and faintly behind that, the hum of the crowd.

A short walk and another nondescript door later, Eddie was ushering him inside…a bathroom.

Granted, it was a fancy one with dark ornate tiles and gleaming fixtures, meant for the well paying patrons of the upper floors, but still a bathroom. Steve laughed for real then. It was ridiculous, but of course Eddie wouldn't have an office up here.

Oh well, he’d asked for privacy.

The door swung closed and Eddie locked it behind them. Steve opened his mouth to protest but Eddie cut him off. “There may not be many people up here but we still don’t want to be walked in on, or do we?”

Steve gulped and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, unable to stop his mind from running through all the different positions and scenarios in which they could be walked in on.

“There's been a murder,'' he blurted out, before really getting himself under control. He had to get this done and get out before he did something monumentally stupid.

“So, someone in this city of over 800,000 people dies, and the first person you think to question about it is little ole me?” Eddie smirked.

Steve put his hands on his hips. “You say that as if you’re not a vampire and a natural killing machine.”

Eddie shrugged, nonchalant. “I can’t help what I am. I wonder though, if you think I'm guilty of this murder you are investigating, then why are you in here with me alone?”

“You’re not a suspect, more a… person of interest.”

“Oh?”

“I think you might be able to help me figure out who is responsible.” Steve explained.

“Why would I do that?”

Because you want me just as much as I want you, Steve’s traitorous mind supplied.

Instead he said through slightly gritted teeth, “It’s not exactly a good look for you, is it? Humans suddenly found dead with multiple vampire bites. Surely, as the newly famous Master of the City who wants to keep the peace between vampire and humans, you can see how that might be a little difficult if one of your new pet vampires has gone rogue.”

Eddie was unimpressed by the accusation. “If someone really has been murdered the way you describe, I can promise it wasn’t any of my people. Even the new additions.”

“What do you mean, if?”

“Well, it sounds like this body you describe had several bites, perhaps your so-called ‘victim’ chose this. Can’t you just ask them when they rise in a few nights?”

“You don’t understand. The way this body was left…” Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I checked the bite radiuses. It was more than one vamp. This victim won’t rise.”

Eddie stilled. “A group attack then. You’re looking for a master vampire and their flock.”

“Yes, one that has clearly gone off the rails and is hunting humans in your territory, Eddie. Now do you see why I came to you?”

Eddie conceded, nodding. “Max, that’s the girl that brought you to me, and Argyle, he was sitting next to Dustin at the bar, they are new here and both master vampires, but I know they didn’t do this. They’re blood-oathed to me, I'd know if something like this happened.”

“You could just be covering for them, protecting them.”

Eddie, who’s eyes had drifted away as he was deep in thought, snapped back to attention and angrily met Steve's gaze. “After everything we’ve been through, you think I'm lying now?”

Steve sighed and shuffled his feet, uncomfortable with what he was about to admit. “No, actually. Somehow, I believe you.”

“What about Jason Carver and his order?” Eddie suggested. “He is a master, and from what I hear he gives his people a pretty long leash.”

“We’ve considered that. The police are talking with him tonight too.”

“Oh, so you volunteered to take me on while they speak with him, huh?”

“That’s not…” Steve stuttered.

“Tsk tsk” Eddie reproved. “Careful Steve, you might be able to lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

“That’s not fair, you can hear my heartbeat. You’re like a walking lie detector test.”

Eddie leveled him with a penetrating stare. “You and I both know that’s not why. You may be getting better at shielding yourself from me, but when we are this close I can't help feeling some of your emotions. You project them so loudly.”

“The only emotion I feel towards you is hatred, Eddie.”

The vampire shook his head, taking a step closer. “Lie.”

“Would you rather I had sent the police here?” Steve snapped.

Eddie snorted, waving a hand dismissively. “And miss out on this lovely visit we’re having? Of course not.”

“Then why are you pushing?”

Eddie took a few more slow steps towards him, closing the wide gap between them. He gently stroked the back of his hand over Steve's cheek, the touch so soft it was like being caressed by a ghost. Steve remained unmoving, at war with himself, unsure of which instinct was stronger, to step back and regain some distance, or move in closer and surrender to his darkest desires.

Eddie, likely fully aware of Steve’s internal battle, grinned. It wasn’t his Cheshire cat smile either, the one where you could be sure he was up to something. No, this smile was sweet, a little crooked, and undeniably genuine. “Because, I like the music your heart makes when it beats like a trapped animal in your chest.”

Steve gulped.

He needed to back away.

He needed to get out of here.

“You want me so bad right now you can hardly see straight.” Eddie breathed the words, continuing his assault on Steve's defenses. The hand that had been gently stroking his face traveled lower. Steve sucked in a breath but Eddie’s touch didn’t go where he expected, instead he found the vampire taking his hand, pressing their palms together, fingers entwined.

Eddie was…holding his hand.

“Why do you insist on fighting it? On fighting me, when we could just be together?” Eddie whispered, his face suddenly so much closer than Steve had realized.

“You’re a vampire,” Steve rasped.

He’d meant for it to come out strong, defiant.

He’d utterly failed.

Still, Eddie flinched, a sorrowful look crossing his face as he said again, “I can’t help what I am.”

It was the sadness shining in his eyes that did it. For one split second Eddie looked all too human and Steve’s resolve broke. He crashed his lips into the vampire's and walked him back until he was pressed firmly into the tiled wall. The kiss was deep and dirty, barely a kiss at all, it was more like they were feeding at each other's mouths.

Both of them pent up, desperate, and wanting.

Eddie made a noise low in his throat, a moan, almost a growl, and the sound set fire burning through Steve's body at the same time all the blood in his veins rushed south.

He didn’t think about the fact that they shouldn't be doing this, or that he was going to hate himself later for giving in.

Steve ran his fingers along the waistband of Eddie's pants until he found the zipper, pulling it down slowly as he broke the kiss and sank to his knees.

He took a moment to look up into Eddie’s eyes before releasing his rapidly hardening cock from the confines of his tight pants, and found him heavy lidded with desire.

Steve returned to his task, unconsciously licking his lips as Eddie’s length finally sprang free. In all their encounters, dream and otherwise, Steve had never seen Eddie laid bare, had never gotten to hold him in the palm of his hand.

He reveled in it now as he gave Eddie a few strokes before taking the head into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around, dipping the tip of it into the slit to catch a bead of precum he could feel there before sinking down as far as he could go. Steve moaned at the feeling of Eddie's cock sitting heavy on his tongue.

“Fuck.” Eddie cursed above him, winding a hand into Steve's hair, gripping firm but not pulling.

Steve relaxed his throat, taking Eddie as deep as possible and set an even pace, bobbing up and down on the considerable length. He couldn't help noticing that, even here, Eddie’s skin was cooler than a humans. It was different but not unpleasant, as was the slightly coppery flavor of him.

“Feels so good.” Eddie gasped. “Baby, I'm not gonna last.”

Baby.

That really did something for him. Steve groaned and popped the button on his own jeans with two fingers. He shoved the hand into his boxers and began to stroke himself in time with the movement of his head.

”Look at you, sweetheart.” Eddie cooed, stroking a thumb down Steve’s cheek. “All worked up just from your mouth on my cock. Had I known where this was going I would have taken you somewhere more comfortable.”

Steve whimpered, the sound muffled inside his overfull mouth, and suddenly he was cumming hard enough that stars burst on the edge of his vision. He screamed his release around Eddie’s shaft and the added sensation was enough to push the vampire over the edge. Steve had taken Eddie all the way down as he rode out his own orgasm, and Eddie's release shot right down his throat. Steve swallowed reflexively as he came down from his own high.

He pulled off of Eddie slowly, jaw sore, and sat back on his heels for a moment to catch his breath. Eddie tucked himself away and offered a hand to help Steve stand, which he took.

Eddie tried to pull him in for a kiss but Steve, suddenly all too lucid, threw himself backwards violently.

Now that he’d cum, now that they’d both cum, reality was setting in. He was embarrassed and angry, though for once not at the vampire standing in front of him.

He felt like he’d betrayed himself.

Eddie’s eyes shuttered, his expression that was once wide open, and full of some emotion that Steve didn’t want to think about, a moment before, was now closed off and stony.

“This doesn’t change anything between us.” Steve said, voice hoarse from the abuse he’d just put his throat through. “It was a mistake.”

“I see.” Eddie replied coldly.

Steve stumbled over to one of the sinks, refusing to meet Eddie’s gaze as he washed the sticky mess off his hand.

When he did finally raise his eyes to the mirror to risk a glance behind him, he found Eddie stiff and alert, staring at the door they’d entered through and tilting his ear in the same direction.

Supernatural hearing.

“What is it?” Steve asked, ignoring the uncomfortable squirming in his gut in favor of the sudden dread coursing like ice through his veins.

“Screaming. Something’s wrong.” Eddie answered quickly. He didn’t waste any more time explaining. He unlocked the door and took off at such a speed that Steve barely saw him move.

He dried his hands quickly and set off after the vampire without hesitation.

The panicked screams hit Steve in the hallway. He rushed to the door of Eddie’s club box and threw it open.

All of the vampires and wereanimals inside were staring at the stage, matching looks of horror on all of their faces as the crowd below descended into chaos, everyone trying to leave at once through too few doors.

It appeared that the giant snake had attacked his trainer, a fact that Steve was only aware of because he saw, for a brief moment, the woman’s legs sticking out of the monster’s mouth, still kicking as it swallowed her whole.

All of the blood drained from Steve’s face. He suddenly felt faint. This was beyond his worst nightmare.

“What are you doing?” He asked, realizing that everyone around him was now pushing past him to the door.

Eddie looked back but didn’t stop, a grim look of determination on his face as he answered. “Going down there, we have to stop it before it wades into the crowd.”

Steve made to follow but Eddie spun around and stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Go home, Steve. This isn’t your problem.”

“I’m not leaving, I can help.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened, but it was worry swimming in his eyes, not anger. “Fine. I hope you have something more on you than that little blade you like to keep in your boot.”

Steve withdrew the gun that had been hiding under the loose dress shirt he was wearing. “I have 15 rounds of silver ammunition on me. If I need more than that then we’re truly fucked.”

“Steve, it’s a magic snake. I don’t even know if it can be killed.” Eddie made to reach for him again but stopped before he could make contact. “I can feel how much it scares you, you don’t have to do this.” He said again, sounding guilty.

“I’m fine, and to be clear I’m not doing it for you” Steve said, and deep down he knew it was a lie. “I’m doing this for Dustin and for all of those civilians down there that you put in danger by booking an act like this. Besides, anything can be killed if you try hard enough.”

Chapter 13

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington: vampire hunter #fanfic #ao3 #steddie fic #vampire hunter steve harrington #vampire eddie munson

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ladyvaderpixetc · 8 months ago

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Rules: List the First Line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Tagged by @theangrykimchi *SMOOOOOOCH* because she's a) lovely and b) I swear, even if it's only subconsciously, trying to tether me to thorki to make sure I don't FULLY backpedal into AE, but I promise bb, I am capable of more than fixating on One True Pairing at a time ;)

“Maybe we should talk to the town elders, I said. Maybe it’ll be best to honour their ways if we mean to secure a trade deal with them, I said. Nooo, you said. I know someone who owes me a favour. Someone who would be more than happy to help us with everything we need, you said….”

2. Loki capered down the stairs with joy surging through his veins, trying like hell to keep his excitement from his face.

3. “Don’t let go!” Loki hissed through his clenched teeth, watching the tree unfurl with relief weighing so heavily on him that he nearly tumbled to the ground, Thor’s hand his only anchor.

4. The club was a fluttering mass of pink, purple, and blue, and Thor almost rolled his eyes at it, grudgingly grateful that the lighting wasn’t all rainbows at least.

5. Loki practically skipped back to his apartment, ignoring his burning feet and aching back.

6. Thor had been holding a polite smile in place for so long that it felt like his teeth and cheekbones were about to shatter and hit the floor in shards.

7. Loki shuffled in place, cursing his long legs as the bench in front tried to invert his kneecaps for him even as his own seat seemed intent on making him numb from the asscheeks down.

8. Loki swayed with the motion of the carriage and sighed.

9. This was his father’s revenge; Loki was sure of it.

10. Laufey froze, echoes of his name still ringing in the crisp night air.

What are my patterns? lol aside from a clear leaning towards human AU's (7 human au's, 1 vamp/werewolf, 2 post-Rag canon-based ignoring IW natch) I appear to favour Loki's POV and either write him grumpy or practically walking on air when he thinks he's imminently about to get a) railed b) his own way or c) both, whereas I appear to write Thor tolerant if longsuffering if only because he's about to get everything he wants by giving Loki A, B & C, hell everything up to Z etc because the bone-deep devotion is eternal *nodnod* so yeah lol no real surprises there ;)

Am tagging @roosterbox @lolahardy @angrymadsygin @deinvatiwrites @strangegeology @thesaltofcarthage @midnottart @dls-ao3 @gracerene @tamat9 and anyone who sees this and fancies a crack at it, basically ;)

#1st line tagging game #fanfic 1st lines #silly tagging game for larks

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streamafterlaughter · 2 years ago

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Limo 4 Emos

playlist | main master list | part ii (coming soon!)

request: no (send a request!)

summary: you’ve been sulking for three days after breaking up with your serious boyfriend. Eddie can’t let you do that anymore, though.

word count: 3,241

a/n: in the midst of all the FD angst, i thought i’d give y’all some comfortable, fluffy, sweet eddie x y/n, this time in a more modern setting! i was inspired by the song Limo 4 Emos by Watsky, pls stream his symmetry trilogy it’ll blow ur socks off. this is a mini, but i can totally write a part 2 if y’all want some less wholesome content. let me know what u think! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

tags: modern!eddie x reader, friends to lovers, mutual pining, confessions of feelings, fluff, consumption of weed, mentions of cheating (reader was cheated on)

—

You throw a wadded tissue toward the television. You’re on your third break up movie of the day, Scenes from a Marriage. It’s been three days of chick flicks, rom-coms, and sobfests as you attempt to heal your shattered heart.

It’s dramatic, sure, but after graduating high school, and getting accepted to your dream school far, far away from Hawkins, Indiana, you really thought you had it all figured out.

Until Matt cheated on you.

You hadn’t wanted to believe it. You’d been invited out by Robin last minute, to a club you hadn’t gone to since beginning your relationship. It’s a place you’d always wanted to go, one Matt had claimed to hate, so you took the opportunity for a night out without him when he “fell ill” one Saturday night.

Sometimes you blame yourself, for not mentioning the name of the club. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have run into Matt there, sucking on the neck of some nameless girl in too-tight latex pants.

You’ve since thrown out his letters, blocked his number, and set fire to the pictures of you two while listening to Dead Horse by Hayley Williams, but your stupid heart is still broken. On top of that, now you’re smelly, grimy, and sweaty under far too many blankets as you watch Jessica Chastain and Oscar Isaac yell at each other.

Your phone buzzes in your lap intermittently, and you lazily screen the missed calls and texts:

bobbie🏳️‍🌈👹: (7:20pm) wanna see a movie? coke bear looks god awful. call me pls!

(missed call: bobbie🏳️‍🌈👹 x3)

stevie🏴‍☠️🍦: (8:00pm) hey, just got off work, need anything at target? lmk 🫶

(missed call: stevie🏴‍☠️🍦)

eddie❤️🦇: (9:55pm): come outside

You read the last message again, timestamped five minutes ago. You begrudgingly throw the mass of blankets from your body, revealing your baggiest sweatpants and your favorite giant t-shirt. You peer out your window, and sure enough the gas guzzling monstrosity of a vehicle sits outside on the curb, its engine rumbling loud enough to wake your parents. You snatch a hoodie off your floor and struggle to get it over your head. As an afterthought, you grab the half smoked joint and your lighter from your ashtray and tiptoe down the stairs.

Eddie reaches the door before you and flings it open. “Good evening, my liege.” He bows his head as he holds the door open while you climb into the van. The interior stinks of weed and cigarettes, and the tinny speakers blare Microwave’s Float To The Top, a favorite of yours that Eddie had grown fond of.

“Where we goin’?” You ask innocently, turning the volume down to hear Eddie, who’s adjusting himself in the driver’s seat.

“Wherever you want, sweet thing.” He motions to his phone plugged into the console. “And feel free to DJ.”

You gasp in mock surprise. “Why, you’re letting me pick the music? Has hell frozen over?!” You can’t finish your sentence before he’s nudging you with his elbow, his head thrown back in laughter. “Seriously, what’s the occasion?” You settle on your everyday playlist, avoiding the breakup songs list you’d been abusing. You skip over Phoebe Bridgers’s Halloween, knowing you’ll start sobbing, and instead settling on Watsky’s Limo 4 Emos.

“Please,” Eddie begins, turning onto the main road of Hawkins, the only one that runs through town. “You’ve been moping all weekend, the first weekend as a free bird! No more school! For at least three months. Even more, if I can convince you to join the band.”

You know he’s joking, but you scold him anyway. “I told you, I’m getting my degree so I can design your album covers once you’re famous. If you need another guitarist by then, we can discuss it.”

Eddie chuckles. “Whatever you say, love. Anyway, I had to pick you up. Every time I've driven by it’s been a different sad, heterosexual couple on your TV. I’m surprised you weren’t sucked into the mattress.” You look down, suddenly fascinated by your crocs. “Hey, I didn’t mean that to insult you, y’know. I’m just worried about you. We- we all are.” There is genuine concern in his voice, and you feel your cheeks flush. He’s always been sweet to you, from the day you’d moved into the house next to Steve when you were twelve. Most of the kids were mean to you, making fun of your weird clothes or nerdy interests, but Eddie took an immediate liking to you. He sat next to you in every class, at lunch, and invited you to play with his group of friends at recess. Six years later, and he’s never not been right next to you once.

Eddie’s voice snaps your attention back to the present. “He’s a fuckin’ idiot. If I ever catch that kid at one of my shows again….” He trails off, shaking his head, and you bite back a smile. If there’s one thing Eddie will always be, it’s protective of his people.

“Hey,” You rest your hand on his shoulder, and feel him relax under your touch. “I appreciate that. And this. I needed to get out of there.” You could swear your room had shrunken.

“Of course. I kinda did it for selfish reasons anyway.”

“Oh?”

He nods. “I hadn’t heard from you in like, a week. And, in the year you two had been dating, I’d barely seen you without that parasite attached to you.” You could be mistaken, but you think you hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice. You chock it up to a hopeful coincidence.

Truthfully, it hadn’t been a great relationship. You and Matt weren’t compatible, but both of you had been lonely. If you were being fully, completely honest with yourself, there was one man you could ever want, and he’s sitting right next to you now.

You’d never be the one to tell him first, though. You’re sure Robin and Steve already know, knowing what they do about you. You’re not good at keeping secrets, especially when they involve your feelings for your best friend. You’ve never explicitly told either of them, though.

Eddie pulls into the parking lot of Hawkins Middle, and you snort out a laugh. “Holy shit.”

“Welcome back.” Eddie gestures to the brick building in front of him. “Where it all began.”

“You think?” You rummage in your pockets until you find your lighter and what is now a very crushed, unsmokable joint. “Oh, c’mon!” You groan, inspecting the bent, squashed cone.

Eddie’s brows knit together. “What did you expect us to do with that?”

“Well, it wasn’t always this fucked up!” You begin defensively, but he holds his hand up to silence you.

“Lucky for you, I have some. And it’s good stuff.” Eddie throws his arm over your seat, and your gaze lands on his jawline. Eddie’s always been beautiful to you, despite his “freakish” nature and wide range of facial expressions. You could admire the curve of his nose and the plush of his lips for hours, if you knew he wouldn’t catch you.

You whip your head back to the windshield too quickly as Eddie turns around, and you pray he doesn’t notice.

“Everything okay?” He asks, trying to inspect your features, but you won’t look at him.

“Mhm, yeah. Totally.”

“Right, okay. Anyway,” Eddie flicks the lock of his metal box open, and cracks the lid to reveal a few pre-rolled joints, a grinder, and a lighter. He plucks the thickest of his collection from the box, and flicks the lighter as he brings the joint to his lips. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as the smoke fills his lungs. You take the opportunity to watch him more closely, the way the filter sits between his ring clad fingers, the tendrils of smoke escaping from between his lips and into his flared nostrils, the wrinkle in his forehead when he tries not to cough, and the shake of his head when he fails.

He holds the joint out to you, burning between his thumb and middle finger. You carefully pinch the end of the filter, and bring the paper to your own lips. You will yourself to taste the tiny remnants of Eddie’s mouth, but mostly you taste the sweet smoke and thin paper. You repeat Eddie’s ritual, inhaling deeply as your eyes slip closed, letting the flower take its hold on your brain.

Paramore’s Liar hums softly through the speakers as you and Eddie pass the joint back and forth, giggling and talking like nothing’s changed in the last six years. In a lot of ways, nothing has. Matt never liked Eddie, but that didn’t stop you from spending every Thursday afternoon at Hellfire, and every Sunday watching movies. You and Eddie were inseparable, and you had never compromised that for anyone. Matt had even asked, a few times, if you’d stop being friends with Eddie for him. You’d laughed right in his face.

If you could go back and do it all again, you’d make the same choice. Having Eddie in your life was always going to be more important.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie holds out the roach for you, and you take a puff before answering his question.

“I’m just thinkin’ about how much I appreciate you.” You muse, knowing it’s bound to feed his ego.

“Oh, really?” He takes the roach and stubs it out on the console, adding a several hundredth burn mark to it. “And why is that?”

You shrug, teasing him. “You’re just so good to me, Ed. You get me out of my house, smoke me up when I’m all sad and mopey. You know how to make me laugh.” You tick each finger as you lost out your reasons, each one tugging the corners of Eddie’s mouth higher. “I know you’d do it for any of your friends.” You finish, and meet his eyes as he shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t, though.”

“Of course you would! Remember when you took Lucas out for ice cream after his first basketball game because they didn’t play him? Or, when you set Robin up with that girl you met at The Hideout?”

Eddie holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, fine. I’m a saint! But you’re special.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. I’m just saying, you’re just so good. I don’t deserve you.” Your voice cracks as you say it, and you clear your throat to cover it.

Of course, he notices anyway. “Are you being serious? You are the most deserving person I know. Deserving of way more than whatever his name is.”

You glare at Eddie with disapproval. “You know his name.”

“Even if I do, it doesn’t matter. Fuck him.” He spits, clenching his jaw. This isn’t some playful hatred of the loser that cheated on you, Eddie is holding some serious malice towards a guy he barely knew.

You touch a finger to where his jaw is locked, and feel his expression soften immediately, like your skin melts his tension.

“It’s okay. Shit happens.” You’re saying it for his sake, knowing how protective he can be of his best friends. He takes your pain personally.

“No, it’s absolutely not okay! You don’t just cheat on your partner. Especially if that partner is-“ He clamps his mouth shut, silencing the ramble before it had time to take off.

“If they’re what?” You’re clueless, unsure what he’d been planning to say about you. Your heart ticks faster, whether with anticipation or embarrassment, you’re yet to decide.

Eddie huffs, expelling a mass amount of air from his lungs like he’d been holding his breath all night. “I can’t. It’s not fair to you, to tell you what I want to while you’re still grueving.” Eddie looks forward, never taking his eyes off the windshield. “I could say so much, but I can’t imagine you taking it well.”

It’s your turn to huff.

“Nothing you could say will hurt me more than I’ve ever experienced.”

“I don’t know if they’d hurt you, I’m more worried about how you’d see me after I say ‘em.” He talks quickly, rushing the words that must be causing his cheeks to turn pink in the low light of the car.

You think you have an idea about what Eddie wants to say. You can’t pretend you haven’t noticed his feelings for you, even subconsciously. He likes to hold your hand, he greets you with rib crushing hugs, says goodbye with a kiss on the forehead. He lends you his jacket on rainy days, and you’ve slept in his bed more than your own in the last three years. He’s always been there, through your parents’ divorce, to your first bully, to your first art gallery feature. You’ve seen every Corroded Coffin show, been at most of their band practices, learned DnD, and started listening to heavy music because of him. The more you think about it, the more you realize why none of your relationships have worked out. The only one you’ve ever been interested in is yours and Eddie’s. Everyone else had been out of convenience, and in some cases because of similarities between your suitors and your best friend.

As you realize this, Eddie’s turning his head to watch you think. “I want you to tell me.” The tiptoeing is driving you crazy.

“Fine, but I have to preface it with something. This wasn’t some ploy to get you, or anything. I didn’t plan to feel like this when I approached you in seventh grade. That being said, it was probably six weeks before I realized I had a crush on you. I didn’t do anything about it, probably because I was thirteen with a buzz cut and body odor. I thought it would just go away as time went on. But it didn’t, so I got like, super stressed out. We started high school and you started dating Jack or something, and remember we didn’t talk for like a month?”

You snort at the memory. “His name was definitely not Jack, it was Simon. And we dated for two weeks. And dating meant walking to recess and back together, not even holding hands.”

“Yeah! And it broke my little heart!” Eddie gestures wildly as he speaks. “Anyway, you demanded we fix our friendship, so I obliged like a gentleman, thinking I couldn’t possibly still have a crush on you after that debacle. Wrong again! I was a lost puppy, wounded and limping behind you while you charmed everyone you met. It was fuckin’ torture.” He looks at you now, and you stay quiet, willing him to go on. “This is all so emo, I’m sorry. I’ve been in love with you the whole time. It’s taken me six years to say it to you, and I still chose the worst possible time to do it.”

You can hear him, but you aren’t absorbing what he’s saying now. Instead, his last words repeat in your head, I’ve been in love with you the whole time. The whole time?! “Why did it take you so long?” You’re whispering now, knowing your voice will betray you.

“I didn’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend, and I couldn’t have you thinking it was only because I had feelings for you. You’re my best friend first and forever. But it still hurt like a bitch, not being able to tell you. I’m sorry I’m telling you now, I don’t expect you to process something like this any time soon. I don’t want a response, I just couldn’t take watching someone hurt you like that. I can’t fathom being that fucking stupid. And I’m still pretty stupid.”

You furrow your brow at him. “Don’t talk about my best friend like that. You’re the furthest thing from stupid.”

“So, we’re still best friends then? I didn’t scare you away?”

You shake your head. “That’s impossible. Believe it or not, Ed, you probably couldn’t scare me off if ya tried.”

“Good thing. I’m still so sorry.”

You offer your hand, palm up to him. He rests his palm against yours, and you entwine your fingers with his. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve been waiting six years for you to tell me that.”

Eddie lurches forward, craning his neck to look you in the face that’s still facing the windshield. “Are you fucking with me? Don’t fuck with me, definitely not right now. Y/n?”

You shake your head, gnawing on your bottom lip as you think of a reasonable response. “Swear on Dustin’s mother, I’m not fucking with you.” You meet his eyes straight on, unblinking, trying to communicate your feelings through your expression. “It might have taken a little longer for me to realize it, but it’s been you. It has always been you.”

Eddie’s eyes stay glued to yours, the warmth of them sucking you in as he searches your face for any inch of doubt. When he seemingly can’t find it, he inches closer to you, his arm resting on the dusty console as he invades your personal space.

Feeling a burst of confidence as Hayley’s Crystal Clear hums from the radio, and you mirror his movements, nudging his forearm with yours as you lean closer to him.

“If you hate this, just let me know. No hard feelings.” Eddie’s voice is barely a whisper. You don’t respond with words, but nod your head dismissively and close the gap between his lips and yours. Eddie’s breath hitches as he catches your mouth with his, your lips crushing against his eagerly, something you’ve wanted since you were thirteen.

Eddie pulls away first, only moving far enough away to look at you again. His face is flushed, eyes wide as he examines your face, probably looking similarly. “Why’d you stop?” You’re brimming with confidence as he blushes, his eyes darting from your face to your hands, resting on the console.

“I had to make sure it was real.” He reaches up and pinches his shoulder. “Ow. Yeah, okay. I guess it’s real.”

“We should do it again. Y’know, just to make sure.” He looks back up at you, and you lean in without another word, connecting your lips once again. This time, you deepen the kiss, tongue swiping against his bottom lip as if to ask permission. Eddie’s lips part wider, and your tongue meets his as you slide your free hand into his hair. His own cups your jaw, his thumb resting lightly on your chin just below your lips. He tastes like smoke and chocolate, his lips soft against yours as he bumps your nose with his.

It could have been minutes or hours by the time you separate, untangling your fingers from his wild curls. “Okay,” You speak first, your voice breathy. “It is real.”

Eddie’s lips split into a beaming smile. “Yeah, shit. I’m so glad.” He exhales shakily and tucks a stray hair behind his ear.

“So,” You pause, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, “now what?”

Eddie doesn’t miss a beat. “I mean, I have plenty of ideas, but-“

“I’ll do anything with you.”

“Movie at my place?”

You hope it means what you think it does. “Yeah, definitely.” You shoot your mom a text that you’re staying over Eddie’s. She sends back a “Yay! Hope he makes you feel better :)” and you respond with a heart. He already has.

#eddie x reader #modern!au #modern!eddie #gn!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff

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