#and like... people still play it. not many but some do :')

[kannady]

ever, ever after

pairing: sylus x non-mc reader

summary: sylus didn't love you. how could he when she was around? but would he come look for you if you willingly step into EVER's boundaries?

word count: 3.8k

a/n: HOLY SHIT! i did not expect that many people to read the prev part and actually like it???? thank you so much to all you lovely people. seeing everyone excited for the next part just lit me on fire. hope you'll like this one. lemme know your thoughts!

read rest of the chapters here!

II

The mug shattered on the floor.

The sound was too loud in the silence of the lab, ceramic shards skittering across the frosted glass tiles. Coffee pooled dark and bitter, seeping into the panels. You stood there, frozen, fingers still curled around the ghost of the handle, your pulse a frantic drumbeat against your ribs.

Behind the observation window, Sylus didn’t move.

His crimson eyes stayed locked onto yours, unblinking, like a predator eyeing his prey. Even through the distortion of the reinforced glass, you could see the way his chest rose and fell. Too steady for a man strapped to a chair, electrodes burrowed into his skin, a veterinary-grade sedative no doubt pumping through his veins. His lips were parted just slightly, as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

"Dr. (Y/N)?"

Mara���s voice cut through the ringing in your ears. You hadn’t even noticed her approach, but now she was right beside you, her gloved hand hovering near your elbow like she wasn’t sure if you’d bolt or collapse.

"What happened?"

Your tongue felt too thick in your mouth. "It.. Um.. It was too hot," you murmured, the lie slipping out before you could stop it. "I dropped it."

Mara’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t press. Around you, the other researchers had paused in their work, some staring openly, others pretending not to notice the way your hands trembled as you bent to pick up the broken pieces.

"Leave it." A senior researcher, Dr. Voss, dismissed you with a flick of his clipboard. "I’ve called for someone."

A cleaner arrived within minutes, silent and efficient, sweeping up the evidence of your momentary lapse. You barely registered their presence. Your entire body was wound tight, every nerve was burdened with the weight of Sylus’s gaze.

Someone handed you fresh lab glasses, gloves, and the file. Thick, heavy, the words SUBJECT M-7 stamped across the front in bold black letters. You took it mechanically, flipping through the pages without really seeing them.

Evol Classification: Energy Manipulation (Class VIII, potentially IX). Containment Protocols: Electromagnetic shackles. Sedation drip. Two cranial failsafe implants.

Your stomach twisted. A cold chill slithered down your spine.

You tilted your head, just a fraction, just enough, and there he was. Still watching. Still waiting.

What the hell are you doing here?

The question screamed inside your skull, a frantic, looping mantra.

How did they catch you?

Sylus didn’t get caught. Sylus was the trap. Right?

Why are you here?

Your fingers tightened around the file, the edges digging into your palms. Was this a trick? A doppelgänger? Some sick game EVER was playing to test your loyalty?

But no. No, you knew those eyes. Knew the way they darkened when he was amused, knew the way they gleamed like fresh blood under sunlight. Knew the way they’d followed you, even when you thought you’d vanished completely.

He found you.

And now he was here, strapped to a chair in your lab, at your mercy, and the irony was so sharp it could have drawn blood.

You forced yourself to turn away, to focus on the vials in front of you. But your hands weren’t steady. The chemicals sloshed dangerously as you measured them out, your thoughts a hurricane of panic and disbelief.

Then Mara nudged you.

She leaned in, her voice a whisper against your ear. "Do you… know this guy or something?"

Your grip faltered. The vial slipped, just for a second, before you caught it, your breath hitching. "No," you said, too quickly. "Of course not. Why would you think that?"

Mara’s gaze flicked toward the window, then back to you. "I dunno. He keeps looking at you." A pause. "Like, only at you. He hasn’t looked anywhere else since you walked in."

Your heartbeat stuttered. You didn’t dare look again. But you could feel him.

The weight of his stare. The unspoken question in it. The accusation.

"Dr. (Y/N)?" Voss’s voice snapped you back. "We’re waiting on those samples."

You swallowed hard. "Right," you murmured. "Sorry."

But as you turned back to your work, your hands moving on autopilot, your mind was somewhere else entirely.

Somewhere with crimson eyes and a voice that still haunted your dreams.

Somewhere you’d sworn you’d never return.

And yet here he was.

***

The lab was silent now, the usual hum of machinery and murmured conversations long faded into the night. You sat alone, bathed in the sterile glow of your computer screen, fingers stiff from hours of typing reports you barely registered. When you finally looked up to stretch, your eyes immediately darted to the observation window, only to find it empty. The reinforced glass reflected back your own tired expression, the chair beyond it now vacant, restraints dangling uselessly from its arms. A cold shiver traced your spine as you realized he was gone.

Fumbling for the tablet, your fingers left smudges on the screen as you pulled up the subject logs. The blue text glared back at you: SUBJECT M-7: TRANSPORTED TO SECURE HOLDING. Scheduled for observations and procedures only. 

Your breath left you in a slow, unsteady exhale. Of course they wouldn't keep him here overnight. EVER wasn't foolish enough to leave a Class VIII Evol subject unattended in a standard lab. But the realization did nothing to ease the tightness in your chest.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. 

What were you even doing? 

Two years. Two full years you'd spent building this new life, carving out a place where no one knew your past, where you could finally breathe without calculating every word and gesture. And yet, the moment those crimson eyes had locked onto yours through the glass, it was as if no time had passed at all. 

You were right back where you started. Heart racing, palms sweating, that familiar ache settling deep in your bones.

The worst part was the ridiculous, traitorous thought that had flashed through your mind when you first saw him. Did he come here for me? 

The idea was laughable now. Sylus didn't chase. Sylus didn't get captured. If he was here, it was because he wanted to be. Part of some elaborate scheme you were never meant to understand until it was too late. 

Unless…

Your fingers stilled on the keyboard as the alternative occurred to you. What if he hadn't come willingly? The thought sent an entirely different kind of chill through you. You knew what EVER did to high-value subjects. You'd seen the files, signed off on procedures that had kept you awake at night. If they had truly captured him…

Your gaze dropped to your phone lying beside the keyboard. Two years since you'd last heard their voices. Two years since you'd walked away without looking back. Did you even have the right to call them now? Would they answer? Would they care? Your thumb hovered over Luke's contact, the number you'd never deleted, no matter how many times you told yourself you were done with that life.

The call didn't connect. Just a robotic voice informing you the number was switched off. 

Kieran's was the same. The hollow ache in your chest expanded, though you couldn't say whether it was from relief or disappointment. This was stupid. Completely, utterly stupid. He was the reason you'd left. The reason you'd spent nights staring at the ceiling, wondering if you'd ever be more than just another asset in his carefully calculated world.

And yet here you were, ready to throw away everything you'd built. Your career, your safety, your hard-won peace, all because of one look from those damned crimson eyes. You shoved the phone into your pocket with more force than necessary, pushing back from the desk so abruptly your chair nearly toppled. 

No. You weren't doing this. You weren't that person anymore.

Except if this wasn't part of his plan. If he really was trapped here, at the mercy of the same organization you'd seen tear subjects apart molecule by molecule. Your fingers curled into fists, nails biting into your palms. Damn it. You were going to regret this. 

The phone felt heavy in your hand as you stood frozen on the sidewalk outside your apartment building, your thumb hovering over Luke's contact for what must have been the twentieth time that night. The wind bit through your thin lab coat as you pressed call again, listening to the hollow ringing that seemed to echo in your bones. Two rings. Then silence. Just like before. Just like every other attempt you'd made since leaving the lab. 

Kieran's number didn’t even connect. That infuriating automated voice informing you the number was unavailable, the robotic tone doing nothing to mask the panic rising in your chest.

You shoved the phone back into your pocket with trembling fingers, your breath fogging in the cold air as you finally turned toward your apartment building. The walk up the stairs felt endless, each step heavier than the last. Some foolish, traitorous part of you kept expecting to see him. To turn a corner and find Sylus leaning against your doorframe with that infuriating smirk, crimson eyes glinting in the dim hallway light as if this were all some elaborate game. The thought made your pulse stutter, equal parts dread and something else you refused to name twisting in your gut.

But of course, he wasn't there.

You'd seen him with your own eyes just hours earlier. Strapped to that chair in the lab, electrodes buried in his skin, his silver hair matted with sweat and blood near his temple. The image burned behind your eyelids every time you blinked. 

Yet when your key finally clicked in the lock, you still hesitated, the door creaking open far too slowly as you peered inside like some frightened child checking for monsters.

The apartment was exactly as you'd left it, your half-finished coffee still sitting cold on the counter, the blanket you'd used last night draped haphazardly over the arm of the couch. Normal. Safe. Empty.

The breath left your lungs in a rush as you stepped inside, kicking off your heels with more force than necessary, watching them skid across the hardwood. You collapsed onto the couch without bothering to turn on the lights, the dim glow from the streetlights outside casting long shadows across the ceiling. The silence pressed in around you, heavy and suffocating.

What the hell were you doing?

Your fingers twitched toward your phone again before you could stop yourself. There was no one else to call. No one trustworthy, no one who wouldn't ask questions you couldn't answer. The realization settled like a stone in your stomach. Where were they? Luke and Kieran never turned their phones off. Never. Not unless something was very, very wrong.

The thought followed you into bed, clinging like a second skin as you tossed and turned beneath the sheets. When sleep finally came, it was fitful and haunted. Flashes of a too-familiar mansion, the scent of gun oil and expensive bourbon, the sound of her laughter ringing through the halls like wind chimes. 

***

You woke with a gasp, your body drenched in cold sweat, the digital clock on your bedside table blinking 4:47 AM in harsh red numbers.

For one disorienting moment, you didn't know where you were. The dream still clung to you, the weight of his gaze making your skin prickle even now. You fumbled for your phone with numb fingers, your heart hammering against your ribs as you checked for missed calls. 

Nothing. No messages. No signs that either of them had even seen your attempts to reach them.

The shower was ice-cold, the water biting at your skin until it was numb. You scrubbed at your arms until they were pink, as if you could wash away the memories, the doubt, the creeping sense that nothing had really changed at all. That no matter how far you ran or how well you hid, you were still tangled in the same web.

The morning passed in a blur of too-strong coffee and mechanical movements, brushing your teeth, pulling your hair back into a ponytail, buttoning your lab coat with fingers that refused to steady. Before you knew it, you were standing outside the lab doors, your hand frozen halfway to the access panel.

You didn't want to go in. Didn't want to see him again. Didn't want to know what they were doing to him. But the weight of your keycard in your pocket reminded you that you had no choice.

"Dr. (Y/N), authorization code Rose-9-White," you murmured, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears.

The locks disengaged with a hiss that seemed far too loud in the empty hallway. You stepped inside, your eyes immediately darting to the observation window before you could stop yourself, only to find it empty again. The chair stood vacant, the restraints hanging loose. Your stomach twisted.

Mara glanced up from her workstation, blinking at you over the rim of her glasses. "Oh, you didn't check the morning logs?" she asked, her fingers never pausing as they flew across her keyboard.

You forced your hands to stay still at your sides. "No. What happened?"

"We finished the preliminary assessments last night," she said, turning back to her screen. A few quick taps pulled up a file labeled SUBJECT M-7: PHASE TWO. "Today we're administering the first round of the Evol-transfer serum. We'll be monitoring his vitals closely, but we've got a stabilized backup dose prepped in case his system rejects it."

Your stomach dropped like a stone.

The words Evol-transfer serum echoed in your skull, each syllable sharper than the last. You knew exactly what that meant, you had helped design the protocols yourself. The process wasn't just painful, it was excruciating. Like having your very soul ripped out piece by piece. And if his body fought it? If the serum destabilized?

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms hard enough to leave crescent-shaped scars. The sterile air of the lab suddenly felt too thick, too warm, your lab coat constricting around your shoulders like a straitjacket. What had you gotten yourself into? More importantly, what had you allowed them to do to him?

What if you were standing on the wrong side of the glass this time?

 The thought made you sicker than anything EVER could have dreamed up in their labs.

The sterile hum of the lab equipment filled your ears as you mechanically sorted through data files, your fingers moving across the holographic display with practiced efficiency despite the storm raging inside your chest. Thirty minutes had passed since Mara's revelation about the serum, thirty minutes of forcing yourself to focus on anything but the empty observation chamber and what was coming. 

Then the doors hissed open, and your entire world narrowed to the sound of rolling wheels and the sharp, rhythmic beep of a heart monitor.

They brought him in, still strapped to that damned chair, his arms secured with reinforced electromagnetic cuffs, the electrodes embedded in his skin now surrounded by dried blood from yesterday's tests. 

The medical team moved with clinical precision, adjusting IV lines and checking readouts, but you barely registered them. Your breath caught painfully in your throat as your pulse skyrocketed, the sudden rush of blood in your ears nearly drowning out all other sound. It felt like your heart might actually tear through your ribcage.

And then he looked up.

Those crimson eyes found yours instantly, as if he'd known exactly where you'd be standing. But unlike yesterday's hollow stare, today his lips curved into that infuriating, knowing smile. The same smug smirk that had haunted your dreams for two years, the one that said he'd already calculated every possible outcome and yours wasn't the winning move. 

Your fingers spasmed around the tablet you were holding, the screen cracking slightly under the pressure before you forcibly turned away, shoulders rigid as you pretended to study a meaningless data stream.

Wait, no. The realization hit you like a bucket of ice water. This was your lab. Your workplace. Your life that you'd built painstakingly over two years of early mornings and late nights, of proving yourself again and again. 

He didn't get to waltz in here and ruin everything with one damn look. Squaring your shoulders, you inhaled deeply through your nose, the sharp scent of antiseptic helping ground you as you turned back to your workstation with renewed determination.

The next hour passed in a blur of hyper-focused activity. You moved between stations with uncharacteristic efficiency, running calculations faster than the system could typically process them, catching errors in the serum compound ratios that had slipped past three other researchers. Even Dr. Voss, the senior researcher whose narcissistic tendencies made him universally avoided, paused by your station with something resembling approval in his cold gaze. "Impressive work today, Dr. (Y/N)," he remarked, the rare praise making several nearby heads turn. "Your focus is... exceptional."

You barely registered the compliment, your entire being focused on the presence thirty feet away behind the observation glass. Every nerve in your body was aware of him, of the way his breathing changed minutely when someone approached with a new instrument, of the faint tension in his jawline that no one else would notice. You'd spent too many years studying those microexpressions, learning to read what he'd never say aloud.

"Alright," Voss's voice snapped you back to the present. "Now go and get the serum prepared. We'll begin phase one administration in five minutes."

The words sent a jolt of ice down your spine. Your feet carried you to the refrigeration unit on autopilot, your hands moving to retrieve the small vial of glowing blue liquid that represented months of your team's work. The serum felt unnaturally cold through your gloves, its faint luminescence pulsing almost like a living thing. You stood frozen for several heartbeats, staring at the vial as conflicting impulses warred in your chest.

Voss had to physically step into your line of sight before you reacted, his impatient "Well?" making you startle. When you still didn't move, he strode forward and practically snatched the serum from your grip, his sharp features twisting in displeasure. "Unusual hesitation from you today," he remarked coolly before turning away.

But you weren't looking at Voss. Your gaze had snapped back to the observation window, to the man strapped in that chair. And for just a fraction of a second, so brief you might have imagined it, you could have sworn something flickered across Sylus's face. Not anger. Not pain. But disappointment? 

The possibility sent an entirely different kind of ache through your chest, one you refused to examine too closely.

As the medical team prepared to administer the serum, you forced yourself to turn back to your workstation, your fingers flying across the controls to pull up his vital signs on your private screen. Every beep of the heart monitor, every fluctuation in brain activity would be recorded here. You told yourself it was professional curiosity. That you were simply monitoring a high-risk procedure. But when the first drops of serum entered his IV line and his body arched against the restraints with a silent scream, your nails dug into your palms hard enough to draw blood. 

And when his eyes, those damned crimson eyes, found yours through the glass once more, blazing with pain and something dangerously close to betrayal, you realized with dawning horror that you might have just made the biggest mistake of your life.

The serum's effects were worse than you'd imagined.

Each scream that tore from Sylus's throat felt like a blade twisting between your ribs. You'd never seen him like this, never heard him make a sound of pain, let alone this raw, ragged agony. His body strained against the restraints, muscles corded tight, veins standing out in beneath sweat-slicked skin. 

The monitors screamed alongside him, his heart rate spiking dangerously high as the serum worked its way through his system, attacking his Evol at the cellular level.

You stood frozen at your workstation, fingers clenched around the edge of the desk so hard your knuckles turned white. Every instinct in your body screamed at you to do something, to stop this, to rip the IV from his arm, to fix what you'd helped create. 

But you couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't tear your eyes away from the way his head finally dropped forward, his body going limp as the worst of the pain subsided into shuddering tremors.

That serum was designed to rip it out of him entirely, to transfer it to someone else. And by the time the process was complete, he'd be dead. 

Your stomach lurched. You'd known this. You'd helped develop this. But seeing it happen to him…

Your vision blurred.

Around you, the lab continued as if nothing were wrong. Researchers murmured notes to each other, adjusting dials, recording data. No one else seemed to hear the way his breath came in short, pained gasps. No one else flinched when his fingers twitched against the restraints like he was still trying to fight.

This couldn't be happening.

Sylus didn't lose. Sylus didn't scream.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look back at your screen, at the readings that confirmed what you already knew. His Evol levels were dropping. Fast.

A few hours later, the lab emptied for lunch.

Mara lingered by your station, nudging your shoulder. "Come on, let's go. You've been staring at that screen for ages."

You shook your head, not trusting your voice. "You go. I need to finish this report. I'll catch up in a minute." She hesitated, then shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you take too long, I'm eating your share of the dumplings."

The second the door hissed shut behind her, your head snapped up. The lab was empty. Almost.

Your gaze darted to the security camera in the corner, its red light blinking steadily. You should have cared. Should have hesitated. But right now, you didn't give a damn.

"Fuck it," you muttered under your breath. You'd come up with a lie later.

In three quick strides, you were at the observation window. Sylus was slumped forward, his head hanging low, silver hair obscuring his face. You couldn't tell if he was unconscious.

You pressed your palm against the glass.

"Sylus."

No response.

Your chest tightened. You tapped the glass sharply, once, twice.

"Sylus, look at me."

For a heartbeat, nothing.

Then, slowly, agonizingly, he lifted his head.

His crimson eyes were duller than you'd ever seen them, his pupils blown wide with pain, but they locked onto yours with terrifying focus.

And then, he smirked.

That damn, infuriating smirk, even now. Even like this.

Your breath left you in a rush.

"You idiot," you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper. "What the hell are you doing here?"

His lips parted like he might answer. But then the lab door hissed open behind you.

You whirled around.

Dr. Voss stood in the doorway, his cold eyes flicking from you to Sylus and back again.

"Dr. (Y/N)," he said slowly. "Care to explain why you're talking to the subject?"

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[npookie0]

Rap Your Way To His Soul

In a world where hunters fight demons every day and try to keep the Honmoon strong with their songs, you are a demon different than any other - instead of stealing souls and working for Gwi Ma, you are a niche soloist rapper who found another way to not die from starvation and block his voice. One day, the world shifts and a new boys band appears our of thin air, a demon boy band. You tried to keep away from the conflict between Huntrix and the Saja Boys, until one day you've been paired with the boys band's rapper who discovered your secret. "But Gwi Ma never mentioned another demon being on surface…?" "Yeah? Well he never said that he'd build a boys band either."

Words: [ 2954 ]

Tropes: forced proximity, you help him discover something about himself

cws: scenes of fighting, spoilers for Kpop Demon Hunters

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So I'll give you a heads up for my idea about Baby's personality before you read it! To me Baby is a unbothered king basically, he doesn't really care (his face when they're at the signing with Huntrix) but he can also be a cunning bastard when he needs to be (Your Idol rap moment the faces he makes there, the way he's smirking at Huntrix when Saja Boys takes their leave) but since his band archetype is being the baby of the group (his name is literally Baby) so I will assume that he's the Maknae and is the youngest so he will also be childish in a way, please accept my interpretation of that guy

You were a niche rapper in the Korean music industry, sometimes you were invited to some variety shows, either doing some rap challenges, do things that were supposed to bring entertained to the viewer like trying to sing a popular song that didn't include any rap, or, rarely, had an opportunity to talk about yourself.

You enjoyed these moments, interacting with your fans, performing for them, even if there weren't that many people you were still excited to give them a chance to see you again and grow a bigger audience.

Even a demon like yourself was weak to the charm of happy fans.

Though, you would hardly call yourself a demon. Besides the patterns and abilities you used for special effects you weren't that demonic. Not after you found yourself on the surface at least.

At first, you were like any other demon, trying to devour human souls, you heard Gwi Ma, you felt shame and misery. Yet, after finding your love for music everything changed, you started your small rapper career, gained fans and most importantly of all, got your soul back. Thanks to regaining your soul you were able to stop feeding off the energy stealing souls gave you, instead you got energy from your fans singing your songs with you.

You knew about Huntrix and their identity as demon hunters so you avoided them at all costs, you didn't want to fight them and lose the life you built for yourself. Every time you were invited to an event for idols, no matter how tempted you were to go, if you knew that Huntrix would be there too you would make up an excuse to not go and politely refused the introductions.

Other than Huntrix, you didn't follow any news from the high ranked pop groups, so you were unaware of the Saja Boys blow up and their rivalry with the three hunters, to you they were a boys band that you didn't really care about.

So meeting one of them on a variety show was a surprise to say the least. Especially after you saw what he was.

But, let's start from the beginning.

You got a call from Play Games With Us, they invited you to take part in a new game they came up with "Rapper Wars", since you are a soloist rapper yourself you accepted their invitation.

"Hi Y/n! It's good to see you after so long!" The host greeted you when you entered the stage. Your fans screamed and clapped when they saw you, chanting your name.

"Hi everybody! It's good to see y'all after so long!" You replied, waving at your fans.

The TV crew fixed up your and a few others rappers' make up, while that was happening you looked around the stage. You knew all the rappers present there, with some you even made songs together.

You know all of them, except one. A guy with teal hair, wearing a pink baggy sweater, yellow beanie, skinny jeans and sneakers. He had a lollipop in his mouth, he had a thoughtless expression, like he didn't really care about being there. But where the lights turned on he suddenly became all sweet, sending hearts to the camera and smiling.

Sure, a lot of idols have two personas, that wasn't a shocker, but at least they pretended to be nice and sweet if the cameras were off too.

"Hello, hello! We hope you're excited because today we have prepared a special game for everyone!" Said one of the hosts.

The other host chimed in with a big beaming smile. "The game is "Rapper Wars!" But our favourite handsome host, what is the game about? You all are probably asking yourself and don't worry, we will explain it now!"

"Yes, yes, yes. Explanation time! So, as you guys can see we have all our favourite rappers; Chaeyoung from Twice..." The host introduced each guests, while camera pointed at them to smile and wave. "And finally we have our newest rap stage star, Baby Saja from Saja Boys and our beloved soloist Y/n!"

Baby? That's an.... interesting name....

"So, in our game these talented artists will make teams of two and will have to perform together, the duo who wins with all other contestants will perform a song they have to write together in the next episode of Play Games With Us!"

After some more explanation everyone started to pair up and soon you and the guy from Saja Boys were the only people left. You made your way over to him and outstretched your hand to him.

"Guess that we'll work together now." You said with a gentle smile. You had no reason to not like him so you could be friendly.

He looked at your hand and then at your face, he squeezed your hand. "Yeah." Was his only response. Well that was definitely a start.

You two were asked to sit down in one of the "rap thinking zone" areas that the hosts prepared for all of you.

When you two sat down you took a closer look at Baby and noticed a weird shift on his skin, you focused on his neck and then you saw them; the patterns.

The same patters you had. That guy's weird behaviour and name made sense now, he's a demon. But why would a demon be in a boys band? Were the rest of them demons too? Was it Gwi Ma's idea? What if they discover you too?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't realise that Baby was calling you until he started poking you with a pen. "Hey. Hey, hey! We have to win this, so work." He pointed at the papers in front of you.

"What? Oh. Yeah, right. Sorry." You coughed and picked up the papers filled with song lyrics.

You were glad that the demonic rapper wasn't really paying attention to you so he wouldn't notice the patterns you had to bear on your own skin. Maybe having your soul helped you seeming more human to the demon.

The two of you worked, silently rapping the lines you assigned to each other. You had to admit that for a demon he was pretty good, even better than most people you worked with before.

"Do you want to perform with a choreography or just focus on rapping?" You asked.

"I don't really care." He had a similar reply to most questions you asked. You started to notice that he was lacking in dealing with interactions. Sure, maybe he was a good rapper and had some acting skills, he barely spoke and couldn't keep up the sweet act all the time. It was almost funny to look at.

"Now Baby and Y/n will be fighting Syngwon and Joel! Let's see who wins!" The host annouced and all lights turned at you, Baby and your opponents.

You shared glances with Baby, who was still unaware of your secret, and the performance began.

You felt energy fill you when the show's fans joined in, chanting and singing. You didn't pay attention to anything other than the feeling of freedom and love that filled you. You performed perfectly, interacting with the fans and encouraging them to join in.

You won. This round and then five more. You won the event.

You were filled with excitement to the brim, a mix of your own feelings and the emotions you absorbed from the fans. It felt great, you didn't even care about the weird looks Baby gave you when you stood together on the stage and said goodbye to the viewers.

"Didn't know that demons walked so freely amongst humans." You stopped in your tracks when you heard an ominous and monotone voice coming from behind you.

You were on your way back home, groceries in your hand. You slowly turned around and there he was, Baby in his full glory. Instead of cute clothes he was wearing black robes and a gat, his hair was darker, his skin was greyshly-blue with darker patterns all over it and his eyes, piercing deep into your own, were yellow. He looked similar to how you looked in your demon form.

"You didn't have to sneak up to me, y'know?" You groaned. "So, you found me out, huh?"

He smirked, circling a lollipop in his hand. "Wasn't at all hard, I saw the souls that shared their energy with you, I saw your patterns." He pushed himself of the wall and teleported right in front of you. "it's really interesting."

"What is?" You looked at him, unimpressed with his confidence.

"Y'know," he took your hand in his and your patterns showed, "the fact that a demon has a music career and doesn't eat souls." He raised an eyebrow. "Why's that Gwi Ma didn't receive any soul."

"I don't work for the tragic king of demons." You shrugged and started walking, if he wanted to talk to you he could follow you.

"Wait, what?" He asked confused, going after you.

"That. I don't do anything for Gwi Ma, I don't send him souls, I don't hear him. He doesn't know that I'm here."

He chuckled, amused by your words. "Don't joke around, we all hear Gwi Ma, it's impossible not to hear him!"

You turned to him and sighed. "Yeah? Guess I'm a human then."

Your pace fastened suddenly and teleported away from him, creating a longer distance with you.

Baby caught up to you and grabbed you by your wrist. "How did you... how did you get your soul back?" He suddenly sounded serious, there was a tinge of hope in his eyes.

You looked at his hand holding your wrist and pulled it away from his embrace. "I can tell you about it later. We have to work on a song together anyway, so why not figure each other out while we do that. hm?"

"Hah, you could rival Mystery with your secrecy. Sure, sure, demon soloist, I'll see you." He saluted you before teleporting away.

You shook your head and made your way back to your apartament. Looks like you've got yourself a very interesting artist to work with.

"So, what's the deal with you and the cute appearance?" You asked once you and Baby were in your recording studio. It was secluded so no one would hear your demon related discussion and you knew it well enough to be safe if he tried anything.

Baby looked at you from over the lyrics you were writing. "Jinu came up with the whole boys band idea, we're supposed to steal the hunters' fans and destroy the Honmoon." He shrugged.

"Destroy Honmood to feed the dying king?"

"Something like that, yeah. I don't really care, I just want to get a reward for suffering like this."

You chuckled. "Really, what a terrible fate you must be living. Wearing cute clothes and beign adored by all. What a nightmare."

Baby looked offended with your reply, just scoffed and suddenly was very eager to work on the lyrics.

"I'm so glad that this whole suffering is done for me, no more Gwi Ma, no more killing humans."

"About that, how do you not starve?"

"Hm? Oh, that." You leaned back in your chair. "Basically it's about people willingly sharing their love with me, if they share it, it flows into me like river water into the sea and that's my main source of energy."

"So that's why you went for music huh?"

"Kind of."

"Kind of?" He titled his head, confused.

"Yeah, kind of. I love singing, always did, even with my broken demon voice. I love the adoration I receive and the fans. This is why I'm still stuck in Korea even if I know that Huntrix could find me at any moment." You looked at him. "You don't feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"The happiness coming from love. Your fans love you, adore you."

Baby looked at you after hearing your words. He took some time to answer. "They're humans. I eat their souls and that's what matters."

"You don't believe that."

"I do!" He shouted. "I know what I believe, and humans are nothing but food to me. I sing to steal their souls."

"Whatever makes you happier, Baby Saja." You looked at the papers in front of you. "What if... I take you out tomorrow?"

"Huh? What?"

You ignored his question. "Do you like amusement parks?"

"..." He looked away. "I never was to an amusement park."

You perked up after hearing his answer. You took him by his hand and he jumped up in his chair. "Well, you'll be in one tomorrow! Cancel all your evil-world-domination plans, cause we'll be having lots of fun." You smiled beamingly and you could swear that you had a tinge of smile on Baby's face.

The following way was truly magical. You took Baby to your favourite amusement park and the fun started when you barely stepped through the main gates. Fans surrounded the two of you, asking for pictures, autographs, declaring their love and so on. You glanced at Baby between every fan interaction and you could tell that even if he felt a slight discomfort, overall he had fun. He eagerly signed every picture and even laughed when his fans recreated his famous "goo goo ga ga" from his first appearance in the variety show.

After the first big wave of fans you took him to a roller coaster and many other attractions. For you, they were somethings you already did so you had more occasions to pay attention to the growing kpop star next to you. And saying that he had was an understatement. Shooting targets, bumper cars, even the Ferris wheel.

You saw the light in his eyes, the excitement and pure emotions. He didn't look like a gloomy, tired of everything demon like the first time you met him. He was actually interested in the attraction he took part in.

You took a break on a bench before your last surprise stop. A corndog in your hand while Baby had a giant pink cotton candy. He swayed his legs back and forth as he pulled away pieces of the sweet snack and ate them.

"Enjoying yourself?" You asked, reaching your hand to wipe a piece of cotton candy from the man's cheek. He nodded energetically, his eyes glowing. "Didn't know you had such a sweet tooth." You chuckled.

You waited until the two of you were done eating and pulled him off the bench. "C'mon! There's one more place I want to show you." You rushed him and forced him to follow behind you as you led him through the crowded amusement park.

You reached it, the aquarium. You were wondering if taking him there was really that good of an idea since he seemed to like the adrenaline quickening attractions more, but your worries were washed away when you saw him glued to the glass and gently poking it with his finger while a fish tried to catch his finger. He looked like a kid who saw real fishes for the first time.

You were forced to hold his hand while you walked through the building or he'd get lost while he looks at sharks or something. You didn't really talk, Baby was busy watching and chasing fish - not really caring if he forced you to chase them with him. And you were watching him, seeing the slight shifts in his aura. He felt less hostile and negative than he did before, maybe it wasn't a big chance, but you saw potential in him.

You saw a chance for your new companion to find freedom.

"Hey, Y/n?" He asked suddenly when the two of you stood in the middle of the biggest room in the whole aquarium.

"Hm?" You hummed in response, looking at a hoard of jellyfishes swimming by.

"How does it feel... to not hear him?"

You turned around, looking at the man who's expression was now stiff and serious.

"Ah, Gwi Ma." You turned back to the jellyfishes and pointed at them. "I feel like them. Unbothered, just swimming by everything. They know that they won't be safe forever, but they live by present not future." You smiled and looked back at him. "That's how it's for me. I know that I'm stil a demon and the hunters may not be forgiving even if I wish they would, but it doesn't matter to me. I have the things I love and the people who love me, that's what I live by now and I know that there's no demon king who can take that away."

Baby didn't answer, he looked at his hand holding yours and...

There was a glow, it was slight, weak, barely there.

The blue glow of his soul.

It was warm, gentle, but still had some sharp corners.

It seemed like he didn't notice that, but maybe it was for the better. You wanted to see the progress yourself, for him to not feel terrified or pushed to do more or less, to maintain or reject that soul that came back to him.

"We should get back, we have a song to make." You squeezed his hand.

He pouted. "But it's so fun here."

"We can return after our performance, you big kid."

"Pfft, okay." He scoffed.

"I've got an idea for the title." You said when you left the amusement park.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we'll call it; Freedom."

Maybe it wasn't a very original idea, but in your mind it created a perfect image of what Baby could get if he and hid friends tried hard enough to accept their mistakes instead of living in endless misery because of them.

Okay my first ever Baby x reader fic done! Writing it was hard but I hope that you guys like it! The next ones will be better I swear <3 I just need to get a better hang on writing these handsome demon boys

See you my dear Kpop Demon Hunters fans

Nate <3

[lazysoulwriter]

banned for love crimes - pedro pascal ── .✦

content: fluff, party chaos, established marriage, Pedro is that husband, wife!reader is just as bad, truth or dare gone off the rails, makeout corner energy

---

Sarah’s living room is packed.

Music low, drinks half-full, people spread out on pillows and couches in that classic we’re grown adults but playing a party game anyway vibe. Truth or Dare has made its way around a few times — some harmless, some ridiculous — and then it lands on Pedro.

He grins like a man with a plan.

“Dare,” he says smoothly, already leaning toward you with mischief in his eyes.

Someone across the room rolls their eyes. “Please don’t—”

“I dare my wife,” he announces proudly, “to kiss me.”

You burst out laughing as the room groans.

“Pedro,” Sarah sighs, “you literally live with her.”

“And yet,” he says, tugging you closer, “I’ll never get tired of it.”

You shrug. “A dare’s a dare.”

And then you’re kissing him, soft and warm and maybe a little longer than necessary. When you pull back, his eyes are still closed, like he’s savoring it.

The bottle spins again.

A few rounds later — after someone’s eaten a weird combo of mustard and marshmallows — it lands on you.

“Truth or dare?”

You lock eyes with Pedro.

“Dare.”

He straightens up immediately, hand already raised. “I dare you—”

“NO,” Sarah snaps. “Pedro. Stop.”

“What??”

“You can’t keep daring her to kiss you!”

“It’s romantic!” he protests.

“It’s abuse of the game rules,” someone mutters.

Pedro sighs dramatically. “Fine. We’ll sit out.”

And that’s how you both end up in the corner of the room — him sitting back against the wall, you between his legs, arms around each other like horny high schoolers, quietly making out while everyone else continues playing.

Sarah glares at you halfway through her own dare. “Can you not tongue each other while I’m doing this?”

Pedro, completely unbothered: “Nope.”

You giggle, kissing the corner of his mouth. “We’re banned, remember? Outlaws now.”

“Truth or dare?” he murmurs, lips brushing yours.

You smirk. “Dare.”

“I dare you,” he whispers, “to keep kissing me until someone yells again.”

You do.

Someone does.

Neither of you stop.

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

---

taglist: @sarahhxx03 @lloydmustache @lolareadsimagines @greenwitchfromthewoods @silksepia @pascalswiftie @itstokyo-cos @mani-pedro @llsister @authorbriannarae13 @introvrtedjellyfish @aj0elap0l0gist @spencercmlover @cixrosie @cherrqbaby @cup-half-full-of-anxiety @joelmillerpascal @freakbobcult @sunlightpleasure @mooniscrying @ohnaurshayla @croissantbakerylws @nellispunk @kasienka @taylorswiftsrep-blog @emerencedaily @byzyz @noovaarq @kristend512 @alltounwell @libbyaller @beaagiannelli @broad-shouldrs @oceanmcu @kysosa @melloispunk @jollycupcakeblizzard @angvlicsoulll @needz1nk @daddypascal17 @agustdpeach @mrsbilicablog @k4t13ispunk @hotdadlvr95 @lnnysnts @pedropascalfan221 @queenofklonnie22 @christinamadsen @ilovecheriies @stvr-bloom @m4yb3-k3tlyn3@umadirectioner@barnes70stark

[bogwaterparasite]

Saja Boys HC’s!!

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Paring: Saja Boys x Reader(?? If you squint

A/N: I just watched this movie and, Oh MY GOD! I am OBSESSED WITH IT. Genuinely, I feel like the writers did such a good job at portraying the characters and the storyline without it feeling rushed? I would love to see it as a series sometime, or have some sort of sequel/prequel to answer all of my questions!! But for now? I’ll just stick to writing Drabbles about guys who only had a few minutes of screen time.

BTW. This is all simply MY opinion on them, they have no defined personality so literally almost everything could be cannon.

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Baby Saja

★ He’s on his phone, like, a LOT. Not in a brainrotty way, but he’s just rather uninterested in anything else.

★ Nonchalant dread head. He doesn’t care about things too much. Want to hang out in a big group? Ok! Want to stay in and not do anything? That’s cool. Sometimes it can be quite annoying, considering you’ll be the one making the decision half of the time, but he will take the initiative eventually.. (Still, be prepared to be the one who ends up deciding what yall do, even if he started the hangout)

★ No sense of taste. Heavily based on him and the hot sauce contest thing

★ Plays video games. Not a gamer, just uses them to pass the time. He’s awfully good at them, specially fight games, however, he doesn’t like rpg games.

★ For someone who’s nonchalant, he cares about his appearance a little too much. What can I say? A man just wants to look cool

★ Lazy as hell. Like stated before, if you wanted to do something he wouldn’t oppose to it, however, he won’t go out of his way to do something.

★ Doesn’t like hot drinks, don’t ask why

★ Isn’t very fond of animals, they’re too much work and bothersome.

★ Likes soft to the touch things

★ Doesn’t like interviews much, mostly because of the amount of talking you have to do in them

★ Always has something in his mouth; gum, lollipops, soft candy, he always has something there. He don’t like crunchy things tho, the vibrations they send to his head.

★ Heavy gaslighter, like, he enjoys to bother others. Type to hide your things and then act like he has no clue what you’re talking about up until you’re going crazy not being able to find the object

Abs Saja

★ Foodie, but in reality he’s just a fatass. Says he’s bulking but he just likes to eat

★ Prefers sour over salty, does NOT like sweet things

★ Constantly showing off his muscles, specially his abs, lets bffr his whole personality are his abs.

★ During the winter he likes to go on runs shirtless, or he’s just always constantly shirtless.

★ Annoying asf. He’s funny, but in the way that he says the dumbest things constantly and makes you wonder how many times he’s been dropped as a child.

★ Social, but still likes to keep his distance to people. He hates talking about feelings, and if you do try? He’d probably find a way to avoid the situation with a dumb comment

★ Dog person all the way, he’d have a golden retriever named cupcake or world destroyer

★ He’s pushy when it comes to things that he really wants. You’re going to the gym with him whether you like it or not, will sulk if you end up winning.

★ Surprisingly a good cook, but he’s messy as hell

★ Immature as hell. He would laugh at penis jokes, or just any type of middle school joke.

★ Sore loser, yet, he sucks at any game that doesn’t involve some sort of athletic performance.

★ He sleeps with his socks on

★ Self centered. He watches edits of him on repeat, constantly likes posts about him and probably has magazines of himself hung up on his walls

★ Doesn’t like children

Romance Saja

★ He likes cars

★ Reads romance novels, books, fanfiction (SPECIALLY about him) will say dumb corny shit all the time, like cheesy pick up lines from hallmark movies

★ Theater kid, watched Highschool Musical too many times to count

★ He cares about his hygiene a lot. Manicures, pedicures, metrosexual in a way.

★ Huge fashionista, he has a mannequin of himself in order to pick out outfits.

★ He can’t hold his alcohol, EXTREME lightweight.

★ He likes word games

★ He likes to tease people, their reactions are simply too good to pass up on.

★ If you are in a relationship he’d make it a thing to take the role of the knight and shining armor, or just the typical male romance movies role

★ Speaks French

★ Out of all the members, he’s surprisingly the weakest physically.

★ Unlike abs, he LOVES to talk about his emotions. Overshares constantly, can be quite annoying sometimes but oh well.

★ If he were to have any pets, he’d have something that wouldn’t get him that dirty, most likely a fish. He believes they’re perfect companions (even though you can’t do much with them)

Mystery Saja

★ This has been obvious, but the quietest of them all. You won’t hear a peep from this dude until waaaaay later into your interactions, and even then it won’t be much.

★ Animal lover. I don’t believe he would have a pet, but he’s the type to stop while walking to pet a stray or some shit like that. Call him snowy white because he’ll even have insects land on him and he won’t care

★ Very good listener, of course, he isn’t much for giving advise, but he’s always there to hear whatever might be troubling your mind.

★ I wouldn’t say he’s antisocial, but I wouldn’t say he’s social either. He much prefers one on one hang outs, whether it’s outside or inside.

★ He sucks at saying tongue twisters.

★ Artist. He expresses what he doesn’t voice through art, mainly paintings. He tried to sell some as modern art once, but no one bought any.

★ over-analytical over the dumbest shit

★ he barks at people

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I was blanking really hard on Jinu, so I might just group him in with huntrix if I ever decide I want to make one for them! Also, so sorry for the delay on posting, I’m sure half of yall don’t care atp but I still feel horrible about it LOL. I leave for the military in about a month! So, expect to hear absolutely nothing for six months after that!!

Hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are appreciated ^^

If you liked this, don’t forget to check out

Saja boys character building

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Zayne’s non-mc significant other. Red String of Fate AU

Imagine being born with the ability to see the red strings of fate. The ones that tied people together. Lovers, soulmates, the people meant to find each other.

Imagine some were strong. Some were gentle. Some were ugly and sharp. And you... you could cut them. Not to play with people's lives, but to help. You only ever cut the ones that hurt. Obsession, possession and the pain pretending to be love.

Imagine never once had a string pointed at you. Never. Not once.

but Imagine you tried to love anyway. Quiet, careful tries. But each time, they were already tied to someone else. So you let them go. You always let them go. You told yourself it was enough to help others. That not everyone gets a string. That maybe you weren't meant to belong.

Imagine then came Zayne. He didn't have a string at all. Nothing pulling him toward anyone. Not even the hint of one waiting to appear. Just stillness.

Imagine the way he looks at you was like you weren't anything. Like you weren't broken or forgotten. You didn't fall fast. You didn't rush. You built something slow and steady. And for the first time, you wondered if maybe love didn't need fate. Maybe it just needed someone to stay.

Imagine he knew what you could do. What you could see. So one night while you were sitting beside him, your head on his shoulder, he asked gently.

"If I ever get a string and it's not for you. I want you to cut it." You hesitated. Just for a second. "Alright." And he nodded. He trusted you.

Imagine weeks have passed then months. Still no string. Still just the two of you. Happy in the quiet way. The kind of happy that doesn’t shout or shine. It just lives in the little things. His sleepy voice in the morning. Your laughter when he made tea wrong again it was super sweet like what in world-. His hand finding yours under the table. Yours holding on, always. Until tonight.

Imagine you were visiting him at the hospital. The two of you were heading to a restaurant after his shift when you saw him come out. And there you saw it. A faint glow. Scarlet and soft. Spinning from his ring finger like a whisper, like a promise. And it wasn't pointing at you.

Imagine it heads down the hall. Past the sterilized white walls of the hospital. To Room 212.

Imagine you have seen her before. A patient. Someone Zayne has cared for, carefully, gently. A kind girl with a tired laugh and too many paper cranes tucked under her pillow. You never sensed anything romantic. You never even worried. But the string doesn't lie.

and Imagine its there now. Shimmering. Real. And for the first time in your life, your heart aches not just for someone else but for you.

Imagine, strange enough. Your heart didn't drop. It didn't crash. It just stilled. Like everything inside you went quiet at once. And you stood there staring at the string that wasn't yours.

Imagine the way he saw your face change. He stepped closer. His voice softened. As if he was trying to figure out what's wrong.

"What's wrong?" He asked, holding you gently by the arm. "Nothing." You smile at him. He did not buy it. "Did it happen?" He asked. "Do I have a string?"

Imagine the way you looked at him. The man you loved. The man who had been yours. Not because fate said so, but because he chose you. Every day. Again and again. And you said. "No. Not yet."

Imagine you lied. Because if this was fate choosing for him. If this string led him to happiness. You wouldn't take that from him. You loved him too much.

so Imagine you smiled. Let him pull you into his arms. Let him hold you like nothing had changed. You let him, the way he kiss the crown of your head. You savour it.

Imagine you close your eyes. Then you blink. But you could still see the string. Bright. Alive. Stretching toward someone else. And you didn't say a word.

because Imagine, love isn't always holding on. Sometimes, it's letting go quietly. Even when no one sees the breaking. Just loving someone enough to lie, so they never have to feel the weight of goodbye.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: karma's a bitch cuz I literally was about to passout at the local market. I'm so embarrassed. Thou shall not set foot on the market for at least a month XD

: also if you know my reference for this one and the last one. I see you're a people of culture;)

[waitingandwishing]

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Word Count: 3k "𝖫𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌" ━━ Ever since you were a kid, all you wanted was to be cared for.

He was already there when you arrived, sitting on the low stone ledge with his sleeves rolled and his bipa leaning against the wall beside him. A faint melody hung in the air, like the breeze had interrupted his playing.

“You’re late,” He said, without looking. You thought it was slightly unsettling that he could sense your presence, but you didn’t mind it. At least someone did. His face was blurred like always, familiar but definitely strange to you…

“I brought persimmons,” You replied, holding up the little cloth pouch tied at your waist.

He looked over, clearly unimpressed. “Are they the bitter ones?”

“They’re the only ones.” You shrugged.

He sighed dramatically. “I suppose I must suffer.”

“You’re a palace musician. Suffering is your art, isn’t it?”

He let out a short, startled laugh and shook his head. “That’s unfair. I suffer beautifully.”

“Mm… I doubt it.” You teased. You plopped down beside him, close enough to hear the quiet creak of the bipa’s strings when the wind touched them. The cloth of your uniform rustled, stiff from the day’s work and still smelling faintly of tea and cedar floors.

“Today,” You said, biting into a persimmon, “A minister sneezed during a prayer. Twice. I thought I was going to explode.”

The man leaned in, curiosity evident in his voice. “Did he try to cover it?”

“He looked like he was dying. Turned completely red.” You chuckled.

“I wish I’d seen it,” he muttered, grinning. “I would’ve written a funeral dirge just for him.”

You choked on the persimmon and laughed, hand to your mouth. “You’re wicked.”

“You’re the one who laughed first.”

You both dissolved into laughter then. It was soft and quiet, it had to be, but it was still real. It was warm, unrestrained in a way neither of you could be when the sun was up and the palace was watching.

He plucked a note, thoughtful. “Something I was working on during rehearsals. But it’s wrong. It keeps slipping out of my fingers.”

“Maybe it’s not wrong,” You started, leaning closer to get a better look, “Maybe you just have to… Play for someone else?”

He looked at you with surprise and you quickly backtracked, “But of course that would be rude to any honored guest! A-after all you’re playing for them, not for someone else! Forget I said anything, the bitterness from the persimmons might be getting to my head…”

You opened your eyes, gasping as you snapped back up from your bed. Why were you suddenly having these odd dreams of this guy? Ugh, that was sort of creepy of you. 

You scratched your head, standing up from your bed and getting ready for the day. You needed to help Rumi get her voice back, but you weren’t sure if Zoey’s method of doing that was… Ethical. Oh well, you wanted to handle it before calling Celine, after all, she would just put more and more pressure on Rumi.

“It’s just a sweet dream, only today. Wait for me, on the stage. We will meet once again…” You muttered under your breath as you changed out of your pajamas to some comfy clothes. You slid on your gloves, covering the markings that stained them.

You and Rumi had them since the day you were born, but you weren’t related to Rumi or even were remotely close to having any heritage with demon blood. It was obviously a mystery, but you hadn’t stolen any souls from people yet so obviously it wasn’t a problem. Yet.

- - -

“He’s got this special tonic.” Zoey explained as the four of you walked down the street wearing your disguises. “Apparently, it can heal anything from sore throats to relationship problems.”

“Shhh! Quiet Zoey…” Rumi mumbled, covering her face just in case they’d be seen.

“Why are there so many people today?” Mira muttered.

“Ooh! It’s down that alleyway!” Zoey said, skipping down a creepy looking passageway. You cringed but followed her. 

Usually, you tried to trust Zoey’s judgement and give her the benefit of the doubt, but obviously it was hard when this so-called doctor had a special tonic that could heal emotional bonds. Maybe they bonded because of their hatred for the scam?

As they arrived at the “Doctors” place, Mira placed one hand on her hip with an unimpressed look on her face. “Yep, about as legit as I expected…”

“I… Does it even taste good?” You asked. “It sounds like it tastes like one of those old lady houses with chipped wood furniture…”

“That’s… Oddly specific.” Mira commented, furrowing her brows. Although you were skeptical, you did hope that this guy was actually for real.

“Earthy and herby. Smells legit to me.” Rumi shrugged.

“Yay! That’s the spirit!” Zoey clapped her hands together and grabbed Rumi’s hand to guide her inside. “Kaja, kaja, kaja, kaja!”

“Hurry, before someone sees us.” Mira sighed, entering the establishment. You followed behind them with a smile.

You sat down next to Mira, picking at the loose strings in your leather gloves. Persimmons… Your hand traced your lips. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to buy some today after Rumi’s check-up.

“Rumi Nim?” The doctor walked through and you quickly stood up with the others to bow. He chuckled, “Sit, sit. You need no introduction.” He turned his attention to Rumi, “So, a problem with your voice?”

“Yes.” Zoey jumped in, “So we need one of your awesome tonics. Something that’ll work super fast.” You nodded alongside her.

“Okay, let me see.” The doctor leaned forward, pulling his glasses down. Rumi opened her mouth for him to check before he quickly shook his head, “Ah, ah, ah. In order to heal a part, we must understand the whole.” He breathed in deeply before staring into Rumi as if trying to see her soul. “I see… I see… No.”

You blinked, clearly confused. Was this guy crazy? You were starting to think that he was but at this point you weren’t sure.

“Actually, I don’t see. Very strange.” He adjusted his glasses, now looking a bit more closely, “You have lots of walls up.”

“Woah! He’s so good right?” Zoey rocked you back and forth with awe in her eyes. You nodded along, but that could be said about anyone.

“So many walls…”

“Walls?” Rumi scoffed, turning away from his uncomfortable gaze. You felt bad for her, being read like this in front of Mira and Zoey wasn’t exactly ideal especially with her secret… “I don’t have any walls.”

“Uh, yeah, you do.” Mira commented, looking up from her OUTER magazine before turning to Zoey and muttering, “He is kind of good.”

“I’m just trying to stay focused.” Rumi shrugged.

“Hm… Focus is good, but focusing on one part leads to ignoring other parts,” The doctor leaned in on Rumi’s left side, "Making you separated, isolated.”

“Ooh ooh!” Zoey raised her hand, “Emotionally closed off?”

“Yes! Yes!” The doctor nodded along in agreement.

“She’s also a workaholic, doesn’t know how to relax…” Mira listed off the reasons before Rumi interrupted her.

“I know how to relax!” Rumi said defensively.

“You… Really don’t.” You added with a grimace.

“I bet she refuses to go to the bathhouse with you.” The doctor grinned mischievously. Honestly you were wondering why he decided to sell tonics and not work as a therapist at this point.

“Oh my gosh, yes!” Zoey exclaimed.

“How did you even-”

“Dude, we’ve been trying to take her to the bathhouse forever!” Mira and Zoey both said at the same time. You sighed, shaking you head and giving Rumi a ‘I don’t know what else to do’ look.

“How is this helpful?” Rumi asked with an eyeroll.

“It’s helping me a lot.” Mira said with a raised eyebrow.

“Waahh, I can’t believe you got all that wisdom just from looking at her!” Zoey smiled. The doctor turned over to her, eyes suddenly wide as he started to look deep into her soul as well. “Wait, why’re you looking at me?”

“I see… Eagerness to plead. Maybe a little too eager.” The doctor spoke.

“What? I’m not like that…” Zoey said before panicking, “You guys would tell me if I was like that, right?”

“Um…” Before you could give an honest answer, the doctor turned to look at you.

“I see… silence. Your soul is quiet and seeks to be loud again.” He said before turning to Mira. You paused, pursing your lips before looking back down at the ground.

Mira and the doctor stared at each other, making groans and grunts of annoyance before Mira bit back and the doctor shied away. “Yeah, that’s right.” Mira smirked.

“Okay,” Rumi cut through the both of them, “How does this help me get my voice back?”

“As I said, in order to treat the part, we must understand the whoooole.” He created a circle with his hands.

Rumi groaned, rubbing her hands over her face, “That’s great and all, but I thought we were just here for your tonics.”

“Can we just pay for the tonics now?” You asked, holding up your credit card. He nodded and as soon as you paid for the box, the three of you exited outside and waited for Rumi to come back with the medicine to help her voice.

You yawned, stretching out and pulling off your hoodie to scratch the back of your neck. “Hey guys, do you think after this we could get some persimmons?” You asked.

“Hm? Why? Are you making jam?” Zoey asked. You shrugged and pulled your hoodie down over your face.

“Just woke up craving some, thought it’d be nice to have something other than what we’re eating now.” You explained, glancing at Mira. “We could probably pick up some Boba on the way?”

Mira gasped, “Yeeessss.” She nodded. You laughed at her happy expression before seeing Rumi exit the door.

“We got the tonics! We got the tonics!” You three all cheered and started walking alongside each other.

“Yay! Once your voice is fixed, we can get back to the important stuff, like the fans.” Zoey grinned, latching onto Rumi lovingly.

You suddenly paused, hearing muttering from around the corner before seeing a couple of shadows. You widened your eyes as Zoey exclaimed, “Fans?! We can’t let them see us here, hurry!” Mira, Zoey, and Rumi hid behind you to which you sighed at.

“Guys, we’re in disguises for a reason.” You said, pulling up your mask, “This is why you wear masks.” You walked forward only to pause again at the… Surprisingly good looking dudes walking down the alleyway?

Mira, Zoey, and Rumi peeked out from behind you, eyes wide at the sight of them. “Woah…” Zoey and Mira said, eyes wide and mouth agape.

You and Rumi exchanged glances before shrugging. “So hot…” Mira muttered. 

Rumi grimaced. “Ugh, you guys are so gross…”

You kept your expression neutral, but you had to agree that they were definitely handsome. You turned to look at Rumi, about to speak before the black haired man nudged into her and made her fall. You widened your eyes as the box slipped out of her hand and caused the tonics to scatter everywhere across the cobbled street. 

“Uh…” He brushed his shoulder, “Watch yourself.”

Your eye twitched and you placed a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, apologize to my friend.” You crossed your arms.

“Hm?” He turned to look at you before you could see his eyes widening slightly and the faint sign of his pupils dilating. 

You frowned, recognition lighting up in your eyes. That guy did look sort of familiar though… Did you know him? No… You’re usually good at faces, you definitely didn’t know him. “Apologize.” You gestured to Rumi, “You’re the one who bumped into her.”

He scoffed, turning away and giving a half-assed apology, “Sorry.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. What a child. There was plenty of space between Rumi and the rest of the street, he just happened to bump into her and make her fall because he was immature. You could never be with someone who had a horrible personality.

You knelt down next to the two other girls, helping them pick up the rest of the tonics. “What a jerk.” You shook your head.

“Yeah, they’re not even that cute.” Zoey frowned.

“They’re so bleh.” Rumi shook her head.

“They’re so…” Mira fake gagged as she threw another tonic in the box.

You all retched before hearing a funky beat come from around the corner. “Hm?” Your expression contorted from annoyance to curiosity.

You, Rumi, Mira, and Zoey all peaked from around the corner to see a puff of pink smoke fill the air. Zoey adjusted her hat while Mira pushed up her glasses. You pulled Rumi’s hoodie over her head and tightened yours with the strings.

The four of you walked towards the pink cloud of smoke, wondering what was happening before seeing a silhouette peak through. Then, all of a sudden the boys from before started to dance and sing.

“Don’t want you, need you. Yeah, I need you to fill me up.” The lead singer, the black haired one that bumped into Rumi, sang. You had to admit that his voice sounded pretty good.  “Masigo maysyeo bwa do seonge chaji ana.”

“It’s those stupid jerks again!” Rumi realized. You sighed, so much for those persimmons.

An old lady burst through your group, hands reaching to grab the lead singer. “Got a feeling that, oh, yeah. You could be everything that-” He pulled his chest forward, somehow pushing the grandma away with his… Charm? You wouldn’t exactly call it that, “That I need, tastes so sweet!”

“These guys are a boyband…” You muttered, eyes narrowed. Usually you wouldn’t be so hostile, it wasn’t like you to be this… Annoyed. But something about that black haired boy’s face made you want to… Violently bash a soda can into it.

“Looking like snacks!” The one with his eyes covered put his hands up as another with light pink hair moved to the front.

“‘Cause you got it like that.” The boyband moved to the side to allow one with a yellow beanie move forward with undeniable confidence.

“Take a big bite, want another bite, yeah. Neoui modeun geol nan wonhae, wonhae, wonhae Neo malgon modu pyeonhae, pyeonhae, pyeonhae!” He moved to the side, all of them going down a line to reveal the black haired one drinking… One of Rumi’s tonics?!

“Seriously?! I paid full price for those things!” You scoffed, crossing your arms and turning your head away.

“Can’t let go, no, no, not tonight.” They all shook their fingers in scary synchronization before posing so the black haired boy, which you assumed was the leader, could sing. 

“Jigeum dangjang nal bwa sigan eopjana.” He sang as he placed his hands on his chest. The others parted, now standing in a more horizontal zigzag.

“Neon naekkeoya imi algo itjana.” The boy with the light pink hair’s voice was soft, a surprising falsetto coming from his throat.

“‘Cause I need you to need me,” The leader sang, all of them gathering into a straight line as they harmonized. You raised your eyebrows, somehow their harmonization didn’t sound crunchy despite them being a new boyband? They probably had someone else write and produce their songs then. “I'm empty, you feed me so refreshing. My little soda pop.”

“You're all I can think of, every drop I drink up!” They moved their shoulders up and down, smug smirks on their faces. “You're my soda pop, my little soda pop.”

Zoey smiled, moving her shoulders along with them before noticing you staring at her with a raised eyebrow. She immediately stopped, but continued to move her shoulders slightly with Rumi as well.

“It is annoyingly catchy though.” Rumi muttered.

“It’s infectious.” Mira said.

“You can say that again.” You pursed your lips before widening your eyes. There were faint markings crawling up their exposed arms, purple markings. You looked back at the leader, who was… Oddly staring at you for some reason, and noticed a flash of yellow sparkling through.

You all gasped unanimously. “They’re demons!”

“Magicians!” You, Rumi, and Mira eyed Zoey for a moment before she quickly corrected herself, “Demons. Obviously demons.”

“Uh, make me wanna flip the top. Han mogeume, you hit the spot.” The one with a baby face stepped forward, everything about him seemed sort of nonchalant but you had a feeling it was definitely an act considering they were demons and surrounded by souls they could eat. “Every little drip and drop, fizz and pop, ah. Soreum doda it's gettin' hot.”

“Dang, they’re good.” Zoey admitted with a sigh.

“Incredible.” Rumi nodded, “But a demon boy band? Why?”

“I don’t care. A demon’s a demon. We kill them.” Mira said, eyes trained on them like a german shepherds as she stepped forward.

“No, it’s too public.” You said, catching the pink haired girl’s wrist.

“What if they try to kill these people?” Mira asked.

“It doesn’t look like they’re gonna hurt anyone.” Zoey said, trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, “In fact, it almost seems like they’re nice demons?”

You, Mira, and Rumi once again turned to look at Zoey with confusion in your eyes. What was she talking about? Nice demon was technically a contradiction! “Demons are never nice!” Mira and Rumi said.

The Saja Boys, or whatever their names were, it didn't matter to you, soon finished their song. The crowd surrounding them erupted into cheers and praise.  You didn’t mind that they were doing this, but they were jerks. Maybe if they were nice you would’ve been like Zoey but they weren’t.

You stared up at them before ultimately deciding that this was worth your time. At least now, you had a new objective to do while Rumi healed her voice. Kill the demons.

You felt eyes on you, turning back to see the leader staring at you once again. You tilted your head before ultimately leaving with the other girls to go get ready to defeat them. Why was he staring at you?

He probably knew you guys were Hunters so that meant he was targeting you specifically. Fine. Then you supposed that meant going after him first.

[biteyoubiteme]

meet me in montauk teaser

choi soobin x fem!reader

𓅪 synopsis: do you ever truly forget a person? even those whom you have specifically paid to be removed from your mind? no matter how hard some try, some people can never be forgotten because the love and the hurt can be found in even the smallest things. memories easily triggered by nothing more than running your fingers through the grains of sand on the beach where you met, not once but twice. ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings: fem!reader, angst, romance, bit of a science fiction au, soulmate trope ish, depression, mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, postpartum depression, smut, more to be added/subject to change/full warnings to be posted with fic

estimated word count: ~25k I could be lying I don't know how to estimate word counts so we will actually see how far off I am or just right when it’s posted lol ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ release date: july 2025

ོ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: back to me- the marías an: this is based off the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, most of the movie is spent going through memories and this is a bit of my interpretation of that although not as heavily as the movie does it. i hope that you guys like this one its very heavy but i love it and was looking for a bit of an outlet and its helped me a lot and i hope you guys can find something you like in it as well <333

[m.list]

With beomgyu on one side, teasing him, and taehyun on the other, telling soobin he should have given you his number, he looked back at you across the street, looking back at him. And it didn't matter if he looked like a madman, he turned back, hand cupping his mouth as he shouted across that nearly empty New York street right at the head of the subway stairs, “Do you work tomorrow?” 

The question had pulled everyone to a stop, your face heating up, not caring if yeonjun and Kai joked over the clear crush you had formed over a single beach trip, “On Monday! You'll visit me, right?” 

“I wouldn't miss it!” Not when he had found someone so interesting, he forgot himself enough to shout into the busy city just to catch one more line with you. And while both of you left in the opposite direction, you still wore identical, hazy, love-struck, love-sick smiles all the way home. 

It had been instant then, and it was instant now. The unfurrowing of your life lines not crossing once, but twice, when the two of you had done everything in your power to forget one another. 

The treatment had been offered as a last ditch effort to pull your relationship out of a sinking ship. A lifeline tossed into the water, thrashing with unrelenting emotions, drowning the both of you until the waves were too high and too heavy to fight. But it had not been like that at first; your ship was just sailing, and the masts were heavy and strong with each gust of wind heading your way. No low going self-implosion waiting on your horizon. At least not just yet. 

Because at the start of it all, on that Monday morning, soobin had called in sick, faked a strained voice with the aid of his sleep-ridden one, and made sure to secure the full day without a blink of an eye. He didn't know when you started your shift, if it was in the afternoon or even at night; all he knew was that he would be there waiting to be checked out with your favorite novel tucked in the crook of his elbow. 

He hadn't gotten your number, and distance made the heart grow fonder, so the only replay in his mind was the way you made him laugh and the way he wanted to see you laughing right along with him. And when he arrived, you hadn’t been in sight, the checkout counters bare of people, just as the rest of the store. His languid stroll only made him take in the place as you might have seen it. The towering light washed wooden shelves holding far too many books to not make the place feel cramped in the best way possible. Ladders sitting at the edge of each aisle waited, and he wondered how often you must have had to climb up one for a customer scared to reach a height they hadn't been expecting for a paperback. 

And as he rounded that last corner, he ran into you with your apron on, the bookstore logo tattooed on the front in delicate green stitching above the neatly done black of your name. “You came,” your voice hooking him in the way it was just so easily said, an exhale that he had been waiting to feel the second he saw you again. Because it had been a bit like holding his breath. His anxious mind worked to ask him the question: Was she really like how he remembered her, or was it just the salt and the sand influencing his mind? 

But it hadn't been the beach, not when you stood so vividly alive there, just as you had sitting next to him on the shore and the train. “I told you I wouldn't miss it,” because anything he had been feeling washed away, and he was just a boy in a store flirting with a girl he felt like he had known for a lifetime.

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taglist 🏷: want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join!want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! everyone on my txt taglist will already be tagged

[jedi-luca]

Head Over Feet: Chapter Seven This Kiss

Summary: You didn’t know Dina before she came back to Jackson. She’s guarded, jaded, and carrying the weight of too many goodbyes. Now you can’t stop thinking about her. It’s a slow burn, and you’re patient… but will she ever let down her walls? Or will someone else reach your heart first?

Pairings: Dina x GN!Reader slowburn

warnings: spoilers if you haven’t played the game or seen the show. Slowburn 🔥❤️‍🔥

Previous Chapter

The sun had warmed the valley by late morning, burning off the last of the mist. Jackson came alive in these hours dogs barking, kids chasing each other between greenhouses, laundry lines swaying with wind-dried shirts.

You sat cross-legged in the grass outside the house, showing Charlie how to braid a daisy chain. Lili sat nearby, watching the two of you with a soft smile, while Mr. and Mrs. Cooper unpacked a modest lunch on the porch steps.

Charlie’s brow furrowed in concentration. “It keeps falling apart.”

You gently repositioned her hands. “You’re pulling too tight. Gotta be patient with it.”

Lili leaned over, offering a fresh daisy. “Try this one, bug. It’s got a long stem.”

Charlie looked up at her, grinning. “You’re good at this.”

“She’s always been good with messy things,” you said, glancing at Lili. “Art projects. Broken toys. Me.”

Lili met your eyes and held them for a second longer than necessary. “You weren’t broken.”

You gave her a little smile, quiet but warm.

Mrs. Cooper handed over a Tupperware full of peeled apples and peanut butter. “You still hate crusts, Y/N?”

Charlie gasped. “You hate crusts?”

“I don’t hate them,” you said, mock-offended. “I just respect the rest of the sandwich more.”

Mr. Cooper chuckled. “Some things never change.”

Lili added, “They used to hand me their crusts at lunch like I was a human trash can.”

Charlie wrinkled her nose. “That’s gross.”

“Character-building,” you teased.

For a while, it was just simple: apples passed between fingers, sun on your face, Charlie showing off her daisy bracelet to anyone who would look.

Then Lili asked, softly, “Do you ever think about your parents here?”

You looked down at your lap, fingers stilling.

“I do,” you said. “They would’ve liked this place. My mom loved birds; she’d have planted something for every kind. And my dad would’ve fixed every busted window in Jackson, probably would have been head of patrol.”

Lili was quiet.

You didn’t mind.

You kept your voice soft. “They tried so hard to prepare us. Our cabin was full of backup plans. But they never expected me to have to carry everything alone.”

Charlie crawled into your lap with a piece of bread in her hand. You kissed the top of her head and held her a little tighter.

“Your parents and brother would have been very proud of everything you’ve done here. They were good people.” Mr. Cooper says gently squeezing your shoulder.

You looked up. And Lili was watching you not with pity, but with that same grounded awe she’d had as a kid, like somehow you always made her believe in things again.

Mrs. Cooper smiled from the steps. “You’ve built something beautiful here and you’re raising a beautiful little girl.”

Charlie beamed. “I have two houses now!”

You laughed. “That’s right. And too many people sneaking you snacks.”

Charlie blinked up at Lili, then at her parents, a soft furrow between her brows.

“Did you know my mommy and daddy?” she asked.

Lili’s smile flickered, caught off guard. “Yeah, sweetheart. I knew them.”

She looked at Mr. and Mrs. Cooper for help.

“I remember your daddy when he was your age,” Mrs. Cooper said kindly. “He was always chasing your mommy around, always with dirt on his face.”

Charlie smiled a little. “My mommy?”

“Hmhm she lived next door to your daddy that’s how they fell in love.” Mrs. Cooper smiled lovingly

“She had the sweetest voice,” Lili added.

Charlie nodded solemnly, like she was trying to hold those details tight in her mind. “I think I remember her hair. It was soft like mine.”

You swallowed, something catching in your chest.

“And what about Y/N’s mommy and daddy?” she asked. “My grandma and grandpa?”

The Coopers exchanged a glance.

“They were good people.” Mr. Cooper said softly. “But I remember her mom made the Spaghetti I’ve ever had. And her dad?” He chuckled. “Your grandpa could scare off a mountain lion just by looking at it.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Swear it,” he said, hand on his heart.

Charlie looked back at you. “Do you think they all miss me?”

Your breath caught.

You cupped her cheek gently. “They never stop.”

Charlie leaned against you, quiet now, little fingers twisting the hem of your shirt.

Lili reached over and rested her hand lightly on your knee. You didn’t look at her right away, but you didn’t pull away either.

And in the warm quiet, surrounded by a patchwork family stitched back together by time and grief and love, you let yourself wonder…

Maybe this was how healing started.

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Lili wasn’t living with you, but she might as well have been leaving a sweater on your chair, coffee mugs in your sink, little things like spare hair ties and half-used tubes of lip balm on your bathroom counter.

She liked to read next to you while you worked on repairs. She’d sit cross-legged on the couch, flipping through whatever old paperback she’d found in the library, occasionally interrupting to read you a line she liked.

Sometimes you cooked. Sometimes she did.

Once, you caught her slow-dancing alone in your kitchen to a record she found buried in your cabinet. She pulled you in without hesitation. You hadn’t danced like that goofy and loose, laughing into someone’s neck. She couldn’t keep her hands off you and vice versa.

And when she said, “This feels like something real,” you didn’t answer. You just kissed her again, because you felt it too and didn’t trust the way your voice would shake if you tried to say it out loud. You were in so deep you never brought up Canada.

There were still questions you hadn’t asked.

How long would she stay?

Where would she go?

What would happen to this, to you? When her family moves on?

You hadn’t said it, and neither had she.

But it hung there.

Every time her mom talked about their route to Canada. Every time Lili curled closer to you at night looking at you like she wanted to freeze time.

Still, you didn’t press it.

Because it was good. It was better than good. It was the kind of thing you didn’t want to break with heavy conversations or stupid expectations.

You weren’t naïve. You knew this might end.

But it didn’t feel like a fling. Not even close.

You’d loved Lili once, in the way that a teenager does — shy glances, passing notes, that electricity when your hands accidentally touched.

But now?

Now you were starting to fall in love with her as the person she’d become. As the woman who saw your scars and didn’t flinch. Who listened when you couldn’t find words. Who kissed your shoulder when she thought you were still asleep.

It was scarier than you expected.

But also… it made you feel alive again.

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Lili’s fingers traced soft circles on your forearm as the two of you lay on the bed, half-covered in the glow of the window, half-wrapped in the hush of dusk.

You thought back to Cam picking up Charlie earlier.

“I’m betting on you losing it tonight. If I win I don’t have to do laundry for a month.” Can smirked, leaving with Charlie.

“You’re quiet,” she murmured, brushing her thumb along the inside of your wrist.

“I’ve been thinking..”

“About?”

“About you.” you whisper, turning on your side.

“Dangerous,” she teased, and you smiled faintly.

She leaned in, kissing you slowly, like she had all the time in the world. And maybe, in that moment, she did.

“I want you, Lili.” you said, voice barely audible.

Lili stilled, lifting her head to look you in the eye. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, breath catching. “I’ve never done this before, but I'm in love with you.”

She kissed you again, this time with something deeper, reverent, patient, grounding. “I think I’ve loved you since we were kids.” She whispers.

It was perfect to you. It wasn’t choreographed. There were nerves and laughter and quiet moments of hesitation. But none of it mattered. She guided you through it with nothing but love. Because with her, it felt right. Safe.

The sounds of her moans spurred you on and on. You wanted to hear every whimper, every sigh, groan and moan from here on out. Mapping every inch of her body.

After, you lay tangled in the sheets, chest to chest, her fingers combing gently through your hair. You didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. Curled up in your arms like she understood the weight of what had passed between you. Like she wasn’t going anywhere, not tonight.

And for the first time, you felt like you’d stepped into something new. Something whole. Something real.

The morning after, you woke first.

For a long moment, you just stared at the ceiling, listening to the hush of the room. The soft, steady breathing beside you, the rustle of sheets when she shifted, the quiet creak of the house settling.

Lili was still asleep, tangled up in your blankets, half on her stomach with her face turned toward you, blonde hair fanned across your pillow.

You felt weightless and strong all at once.

There wasn’t a single part of you that regretted it.

You didn’t feel different, exactly not the way movies or books made it seem. But you felt anchored. Seen. And when you looked at her again, you felt calm in a way that hadn’t existed in you for years.

You brushed a piece of hair from her cheek. She stirred, eyes fluttering open.

“Hi,” she smiled, voice raspy with sleep.

“Hey.”

A pause.

“Last night wasn’t a dream, was it?”

You shook your head.

She smiled wider. “Good.”

You leaned in and kissed her as she giggled, slow and warm. It felt easy now. Familiar.

Like this was always where you were supposed to be.

She made you breakfast and coffee barefoot in your shirt. You kissed her shoulder just because you could. She smiled without looking up.

You were in love with her.

And it didn’t feel confusing, or unfinished, or like something you were chasing after. It felt like something that had found you. It truly felt like a love story unfolding, and to the town it was.

It started with a kiss.

Not the nervous kind. Not the careful, aching first one by the fire.

But the one a few days later, in the middle of Jackson’s main road, when Lili pulled you toward her and kissed you in front of everyone quick, soft and sure, like she’d never known hesitation. Her fingers curled around yours like she meant to keep them.

And you let her.

You smiled into her mouth.

And the town noticed.

It spread faster than news ever should. Whispers behind tomato crates. Smirks passed between kitchen staff. A few knowing nods from people you barely talked to.

But none of it mattered. Not really.

Because Lili looked at you like she knew your soul. And every time you touched her, the noise faded.

You rode into town with her hands around your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder. You split peaches on your porch, juice sticky on your fingers, her laugh easy and unbothered in your ear.

You’d never had something like this.

Never known what it felt like to be chosen out loud.

She reached for your hand during dinner. Called your name like it was a love song. Rested her forehead against yours at the stables and kissed you like there wasn’t a crowd nearby watching it all unfold.

And Charlie adored her.

She held Lili’s hand like she was made to fit there, all tiny fingers and soft trust. The three of you walking home from the mess hall felt like a picture you never thought would exist for you — warm, full, right.

Lili braided her hair on the porch. Read her stories at night. Kissed her on the forehead like she’d known her forever.

You didn’t want to think too hard about how fast it all came together.

You didn’t want to ruin it by asking how long something this beautiful could really last.

Still, you noticed Dina.

Not at first. Not in those first flushed days, when your world had narrowed to warm hands and sunlit bedsheets and the way Lili whispered your name when she thought you were asleep.

But then… little moments.

You caught her once in the market, standing behind a cart of squash, her eyes on the two of you like she’d forgotten what she came there for.

You passed her by and smiled. Just a small thing — polite. She didn’t smile back.

Another time, at the stables, she walked in mid-laugh, mid-kiss, mid-something private between you and Lili. And you felt it. That flicker. That pause.

She didn’t say anything. Just turned, and left.

It started to happen more.

You’d feel her eyes on you in the mess hall. Out on the field. After patrol. Nothing was said but you could feel her pulling back, pulling in, like she was quietly making herself smaller.

You didn’t know what to do with that.

You had everything now. The love you’d waited for. The sweetness of being wanted back. It felt unfair to mourn someone who’d never really been yours.

But sometimes when Lili was asleep and the fire was low you’d remember the sound of Dina’s voice when she said she wasn’t ready.

And wonder. Could you have felt this way if it was her instead?

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Dina noticed a difference in you Not all at once, but in the way you carried yourself. The quiet peace in your face, the way your eyes didn’t search the crowd anymore.

She felt like she was an audience member watching a storybook romance come to life. The whole town talked about how cute and picture perfect you and Lili were together.

How could they not? You; this perfect dreamboat of a person and Lili a sweet blonde green doe eyed girl that made you lovesick.

Dina saw you walking through Jackson with Lili’s hand in yours. Saw you play with Charlie together, whispering and laughing about something no one else knew.

And it hit her one morning in the market when you passed her and smiled but nothing more.

You had truly moved on. You had given Lili something so sacred and not just your virginity but your heart.

And she hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding onto the idea that you wouldn’t.

She thought back to the moment she found out it was the last time she spoke with you.

A few weeks back

It wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

Cam had swung by the stables to grab some supplies. Dina was there, brushing down her horse, sleeves rolled up, brow sweaty from patrol. The two hadn’t talked much lately, not since the last town hall where things got heated over security detail. Still, there was a loose familiarity between them. The kind that lingered even when you weren’t feeling especially friendly.

“Hot out,” Cam offered, grabbing the reins beside her.

Dina nodded. “Yeah.”

They worked in silence for a bit. Just enough for Cam to let her guard down.

“You hear about the infected run near the old tracks?” Cam asked.

Dina shook her head.

“Y/N and Lili handled it. Took down ten, cleared the entire tunnel. No backup.”

Dina paused, just briefly, before continuing her work. “Of course they did.”

Cam side-eyed her. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Cam let out a soft whistle. “You’re never ‘fine’ when you say it like that.”

Dina’s jaw ticked. “Why are you telling me this?”

“No reason,” Cam said with a shrug. Then, too casually: “Just… damn. You’d never know that was their first week together. They work like a team. Maybe it’s all the… practice.”

Dina blinked. “What kind of practice?”

Cam froze. Shit.

“I mean-” she started to walk it back. “Nothing. Just-”

“You mean sex,” Dina said flatly.

Cam winced. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you meant it.”

Cam blew out a breath. “Look, I figured you knew. Y/N told me after it happened. It was… special. Not just sex. Like, real. The kind of first time people hope for.”

Silence.

Dina’s hands stopped moving. Her fingers curled tightly into the reins.

She nodded once. Too slow. Too controlled.

“I see.”

Cam backpedaled hard. “Hey Dina come on. I wasn’t trying to be cruel. You’re the one who told Y/N they deserved a better first time, remember?”

“I still said no,” Dina said, voice sharp now, low and bitter. “Even if I wanted to say yes.”

Cam hesitated. “Then maybe it’s good they’re with someone who wanted to say yes back.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Dina stepped back from the horse, stiff.

“I have to go,” she muttered, grabbing her pack.

“Dina…”

But she was already walking off. She didn’t turn back.

Later that evening you found Dina sitting on the edge of the greenhouse steps, half-shaded, legs stretched long across the stone path. The afternoon rain had passed, leaving the air thick and soft, the smell of wet leaves still clinging to everything.

She didn’t look up when you approached.

“Hey,” you offered gently.

“Hey.”

You sat beside her, keeping a bit of distance. The silence hummed between you. She was peeling a pear with a knife, slow and methodical. She handed you a slice without looking.

“Thanks.”

A bird chirped somewhere overhead. You watched it flit between the branches, trying to read her face from the corner of your eye.

“You okay?” you asked.

She shrugged. “Long patrol. Cam got on my nerves.”

You hesitated. “She say something?”

Dina paused. Her knife slowed for half a second.

“Nothing important.”

You nodded, but you felt the shift. Something had cracked between you, something small but sharp. You didn’t know what she’d heard—but you knew enough to suspect.

She finally glanced at you. Her eyes weren’t angry. Just… tired. Guarded.

“You seem happy,” she said softly.

You blinked. “I… yeah. I guess I am.”

She gave a hollow smile, then looked away again. “That’s good. You deserve that.”

You swallowed. “Dina…”

“Don’t,” she said, too fast. Then quieter, “Don’t say anything kind right now.” Her voice wavered on the edge of crying.

You sat back, hands curled on your thighs. “Okay.”

A moment passed. Then she whispered:

“Did you ever think about what it would’ve been like if she didn’t show up that day? After I poured my heart out?”

You looked at her. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. But her voice trembled like something had broken loose and she didn’t know how to catch it.

“I did,” you said honestly. “Of course I did.”

That made her inhale sharp through her nose.

“I told myself I was protecting you,” she murmured. “But maybe I was just scared.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

She looked down at the slice of pear in her hand, untouched. Then she set it aside and stood.

“I should go. I told JJ we’d read before bed.”

You nodded.

“Dina-“

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

She didn’t wait for you to respond.

And this time, you didn’t stop her.

[blocksruinedme]

Update: Skizzleman's youtube subs used to be public and included lots of far right assholes. And he's mentioned listening to Joe Rogan's podcast.

[That's the summary there, you can stop reading if that's all you need to know, the rest of this is just some details and me expressing my feelings. At length.]

So after I made my last reblog I went back to #skizz situation and, well, turns out in 2021 Skizz's youtube subs were public? And he subscribed to far right assholes? YEAH IT'S GREAT.

Like Joe Rogan and Ben Shapiro and Prageru (and oann, zeducation, steven crowder, timcast, and anthony brian logan).

Ha ha ha ha ha ha! What a fool am I, what assumptions I made. I assumed Skizz was at least left of center, but grew up in the 90s and learned including *everyone* is a virtue. (Like I did!)

This isn't that. This isn't "being friends with people you disagree with", it's not even "putting people who hate them in positions of power over your fans". It's not being willing to tell us the truth about how we don't matter, it's accepting the support and profiting from and living off people he wouldn't stand up for in the most minor way. Of course he thinks "trans rights!" is political, because he thinks it's politics, not human rights. As he reportedly said on his podcast this week, he doesn't care what anyone thinks.

Skizzleman does not care what you think.

Skizzleman does not care if his friends might want you dead.

He's deep in red america and he's not your friend.

Skizz does not care about you.

[edit: after i wrote the rest of this post i searched "joe rogan skizz" on tumblr and found a post from 2024 saying Skizz has admitted to listening to the Joe Rogan podcast! I'm particularly sensitive to that one. (I am upset with my brother every day of my life for playing that for my niblings. My 10yo nephew randomly said we should kill Biden at a family party. Joe Rogan is not okay.) ]

Anyway, I found the links to 2021 posts about Skizz's *many* far right youtube subs in an ask on this blog. I was going to screenshot them all but I don't want to do that to personal posts that had very few notes, one of which asked for no reblogs, so I'm doing summary and screenshotting a big hc blog.

From what I can gather, in 2021, someone noticed what channels he was subscribed to and found a lot of far right bullshit. People talked about it on tumblr, shared some of the channels in posts and replies, and said "go look for yourself"[1]. He privated his youtube subs and made no statement[2] disavowing those views or anything to say that isn't part of who he is.

Skizz never disavowed the far right and he is still platforming publicly MAGA people.

(As someone who was an angry adult long before 2021, I want it to be clear that wasn't before the far right went mainstream and very bad. We knew those people were dangerous at least back in 2016. It wasn't subtle.)

The biggest post I could find about this was from the @hermitcraftheadcanons blog, which takes submissions about, well, hermitcraft head canons and has multiple mods, two of who were quoted in the 2021 post. The blog announced they were no longer accepting non-hermits, for multiple reasons but specifically for Skizz.

This is (part of) what they posted in 2021:

That's what I've got.

I'm not telling anyone what to do besides "don't harass people on tumblr for posts four years ago". Don't do that!

If you don't care if people hang out with and platform MAGA people, who are likely less extreme than what they watch on youtube, I literally do not have the energy to care. Do with this information what you will. (If this hurts you, I'm truly sorry. Caring about non-fictional people is dangerous, I can't imagine how I would feel if this was one of my blorbos. Be kind to yourself.)

But me? I'm fucking disgusted. I daydream about telling off my MAGA family members, I am not giving a pass to someone who isn't my friend and who made sure to emphasize this week, weeks after this all went down, how much he doesn't care about anyone's opinion or "being told what to do".

I know some people see not caring about other people's opinions as a virtue. I do not. Especially men in positions of power in any community, especially especially if the community is based around them!

The people in power are the ones who should care the most about what other people think.

I would be shocked if there was any hope of Skizz doing anything because some [whatever he would call us] told him to.

Finally: I have more to say that is about how terrible people find each other through "just a joke" but it's not about Skizz, so I'm tossing it under a cut, along with the footnotes:

So we found out about Skizz's mods, and I looked through some twitter screenshots until I felt uncomfortable. I hoped, but I really really worried, cause who people's friends are, the people they choose to be with not just friendly coworkers, says a lot about them. Because here's the thing about people hanging out with shitty people, often turns out... gestures heads toward any friends groups of abusers you know. I'm only talking about politics with Skizz, not anything else, but it is the same social process.

I was reblogging about "just a joke" last night. It's how people test the waters, to see who laughs at jokes about bigotry and terrible things I won't name here. And someone like me says "ugh wtf" and their friends defend them and I distance myself, and everybody who stood with the shithead has a fun little bond, whether they are aware of it or not. "Just a joke" is how nasty people find each other, to hang out and support each other's bigotry and abuse, support each other in building up power structures to abuse, things like that. In some cases, start bringing them to your favorite bar and see if they want to be a white supremacist too. It 's NOT a coincidence when abusers and bigots hang out. It's never every single person they know, don't immediately cancel every abuser/bigot's friends, but be fucking wary.

Footnotes about skizz in 2021

[1] I have found no screenshots but a mod investigated it and said no more Skizz, and enough people treated this as public information that it would a wild conspiracy theory to say everyone made it up.

[2] someone claimed to have talked to him in twitter dms but wouldn't even screenshot it. ""I talked to him in DMs on Twitter. He wants to keep all this as private as possible so I won't be posting screenshots, but he confirmed he didn't realize how extreme their views were, that he's not a bigot, and that he just likes to follow news sources on all sides.""

Sure, screenshots can be faked, but you're not even giving us that? If this conversation happened, I don't care! Meaningless!

[daggerfall]

Between all the Darien postings, I did want to say my thoughts on Gabrielle as well:

In my opinion, Gabrielle's arc from base game to Solstice is a story of survivor's guilt. She goes from respectable portal mage in the Mages Guild, to combatant in the final charge against Molag Bal to stop the Planemeld. She's not some high ranking mage in the guild, she's just been in the right/wrong place at the right/wrong time. She lets Darien flirt with her for fun but plays hard to get. This isn't the time for serious feelings - this is war. And then she watches him vanish in front of her without getting to even confront her own feelings, and watches King Dynar, leader of the charge, die in front of her. She watches these two brave warriors sacrifice themselves to save the day in a way she could not. That is a deeply, deeply traumatic experience - especially when everyone is likely telling you how brave you were for your part in the battle and how happy everyone is that the Planemeld is over. They don't know what it cost.

She spends the next few years doing little but trying to find Darien - scouring books in the Anvil mages guild and making no progress until you give her the note from Darien from Wrothgar. She even joins the Antiquarian's in an attempt to find him (dialogue you can only get if you did the main quest but Not Summerset). But she has to learn about Darien returning and then being lost again in Summerset, again from you. She didn't even get to see him or speak to him or help save the world again. She's been left behind yet again and is following in the trail of the Vestige and their encounters with her obsession. And then she feels responsible for the death of Merric and the capture of Vanus, and has to step in to fill his shoes as the leader of the Mages Guild and Stirk Fellowship alongside Prince Azah.

Look. Gabrielle Benele is not a leader. She is not some legendary, powerful mage with a high ranking in the guild. She is an extremely capable portal mage with experience in war and boatloads of PTSD, and a valued Antiquarian (albeit with some... controversial codices). She's portal girl. She's one third of the OG cov gang. She should not be leading the Mages Guild. That level of pressure on her after everything is insane.

I do not think her crush on Darien is solely why she was so quick to suggest sacrificing herself to bring him back - I think she was struggling and lost for many years. Her life purpose to alleviate her guilt was trying to find Darien; someone she viewed as the best of us all. I feel like it's not unreasonable to think that she may have had thoughts of "it should have been me", knowing how much she admired the person Darien was. I think that hero worship in itself could have fed into the romantic feelings she held for him, and made them into something more than what they actually had in Coldharbour. She's had a long time to stew in those memories and obsess over them. So it's not surprising she would be rather quick to suggest the exchange with the Gift of Death when presented with her own immediate and unavoidable death, and knowing that using it even once would stop Wormblood from being able to use it.

And I think in some way, she recognized that she herself was stuck in the past. Everyone else was able to move on, but she can't. Others may miss him, but she's the only one Still Trying to bring him back. She can't heal, she can't move on.

The only people who could understand are Vanus and the Vestige. Vanus is her superior and now imprisoned, and regardless of your Vestige's relationship with Darien, I think she would feel some level of jealousy at them getting to always be involved in Darien's life. The note in Wrothgar, Summerset, the sidequest in Southern Elsweyr, his ghostly apparition in Blackwood. She doesn't get to be involved, but the hope of his return is the only thing that keeps her going.

I think her sacrifice is far more than just "girl likes a boy enough to die for him" or "killing off woman to bring back some guy". It's a disservice to character to look no further to her obsession with finding Darien and dismiss it narrative favoritism to Darien. It's a heartbreaking conclusion to an 11 year long arc about the only other regular person to leave the Chapel of Light. You got to be a Hero, and she had to just... go on with life. Alone.

And maybe it's not a conclusion! Maybe she will come back in some equally miraculous plot twist. But I think it's important to view her story not as girl sacrifices herself for a boy, but as a story about survivor's guilt and hero worship left unchecked.

[mi-co-uk]

── GRUMPY MATT X MUTE READER ⋆˚࿔

BLURB: "ocean eyes" - dotty sees a girl in matts bed part three !! (final part lol - part one here , part two here)

WARNINGS: erm a little crying i think, very fluffy, there may or may not be some kissing erm not to spoil it but yep

this is part of my billie eilish writing marathon [here]

wc: 1.4k

AU MASTERLIST // NAV // ALL AUS

He felt entirely pathetic, he’d never been this emotional.

The image of her was haunting. He couldn’t escape the guilt even in his dreams, her tear-soaked face and sparkling eyes increased the pressure in his throat, like he needed to have a literal and emotional lack of air.

It was hard to find purpose in anything without her there. Dotty was his air, she was his everything. He’d never felt the weight of her absence as deeply as he did now.

Everything he did when he wasn't with her was to cope with that fact. The excessive drinking, smoking, being in general anti-social, sleeping with girls and imagining it was her. Matt wouldn't relax without her. 

It had been almost two weeks since the incident, over a week since he went to her house. Matt wasn't known for his patience, but he did his best for her, giving her space and endlessly hoping it would go the way he wanted - but probably not the way he deserved. He felt as if he was a lost cause, hed fucked up too much this time. 

But he had to do something. 

He got many side eyes from the workers at the mall, watching him grab anything and everything off the shelves, face stern with concentration. Any snacks she liked, anything bunny related, things she'd wanted but deemed far too expensive and pushed aside. Piles of gifts and yet he was sure it still wasn't enough. 

As he shopped, he had many mental apologies prepared. promises and gestures he slightly changed in each scenario in case it could be perceived wrongly. He wasn't prepared last time, but this time he would be. 

She hates surprises, especially ones that involve seeing people when she wasn't planning on it - he’d dismissed this last time due to his own desperation to albeit miserably fail at making amends. He decided to poke a small card through the front door, inviting her out but not forcing her. 

A small bunny illustration on the font, matts wobbly handwriting on the back.

“dotty - i really want to fix this. I shouldn't have done any of the things i did, you deserve so much more than how I've been. I want to be better for you. You don't have to, but i'll be parked outside yours at 10am tomorrow, i'll wait for half an hour and then if you don't show i’ll leave you alone. Im really am sorry.”

The waiting made everything worse, dotty was typically relentlessly punctual, always early. As the clock ticked from 9.54 to 9.55, he felt like maybe he truly had lost her. Matt cradled his face tightly, breathing heavy as a way to concentrate on steadying it. If he'd just always been honest, been there for her more, been someone else.

He knew dotty should have better than him but that idea was far too unbearable to let play out naturally. No one deserves her but she deserves everything. 

Small shy taps came from the passenger window, matts head shot in that direction out of shock. She held her arms nervously, standing in the breeze in her small dress. He sat there wide eyed, having spent hours imagining it play out, he forgot to react when she was actually there in front of him. 

Eventually he snapped out of it, quickly leaving the car to hold open the passenger door for her. She avoided eye contact, looking down at the floor but not moving into the car - like she was holding back what she wanted to say. 

Matt stood a little closer to her, eyebrows lightly furrowed out of concern. He leaned to a press a small kiss to her cheek, noticing a small smile form on her face as she finally lifted her head to face matt. It was only for a second but it was enough that matt mirrored her smile. 

“you look really pretty” he mumbled.

She went in opposite to before, a small frown now forming before she shook her head in dismissal. 

“you are, I mean it.” 

She shook her head a few times more, matts only solution was to press repeated quick kisses over her face. Dotty let out soft giggles, gripping matts shirt for balance as he continued.

He finally stopped to hold her in a full hug, she reached her arms around the back of his neck to reciprocate it. He felt so close to being able to breathe, but she still felt so far away. She pulled him closer but that didn't make him forgiven. The hug lasted longer than was necessary, matt wanted to hold onto her while she let him. 

Dotty was the first to pull back, sniffing slightly as she did.

Matt looked to the ground slightly nervous to speak. “There's presents for you in the car.” 

Dotty looked inside the vehicle a little over-excitedly, looking back to matt and watching as he remained avoidant of her gaze. She used all her confidence to reach up and place her own kiss onto Matt's cheek, watching the heat rise to his face as he failed to hold back a smile. 

“Don't even,” he jokingly warned. “get in the car.”

She sat down still giggling, smiling a little as matt shut the door for her. Matt was likely the most nervous, watching every move of both his and dottys to make sure it played out as he needed it to.

He grabbed the many plastic bags from the back seat, placing them in his lap first. He analysed the contents of each to decide the order to do everything, looking back to notice dotty's agape mouth in shock of just how much he'd gotten her. 

He decided on the stuffed bunnies, placing them delicately on her lap one at a time. She reached slowly to stroke them, emotions overwhelming her as she stared at them and began sniffing again. 

“baby, that's only the first few things” he quietly responded as he tilted his head, watching her begin to cradle the bunnies. 

She dropped them back into her lap and covered her face out of nervousness and embarrassment, matt reached over to pull them away gently. Dottys eyes were glassy staring back at him, matts stomach dropped slightly as he remembered how she had cried because of him before. His eyebrows furrowed from guilt, unable to escape the memory that had taunted his dreams for a week. 

“‘m sorry” he mumbled. “for everything’” 

Dotty stared at matt with sympathy now, reaching her hands and sitting up slightly to cradle his face, forcing him to look at her. He leaned into the palm of her hand, placing his hand over hers to gently caress them. 

“You don't have to forgive me but,” he swallowed out of anxiety. “but i hope you can.”

Her eyes flicked back and forth between his. She reached back to grab her favourite of the bunny rabbits to slowly move it towards matt, making it place a kiss on matts lips, watching intently as a wide grin formed on matts face. Dotty giggled as she pulled it a little further back, smiling wide as matt leaned himself down to place a kiss on the bunny hurriedly. 

He leaned back and took a deep breath to concentrate, focusing on his hands to sign a single phrase.

His expression held concern, worrying of the weight of what he was admitting. Dotty leaned forwards, gripping matts face once again but to place her lips against his. He reciprocated eagerly, the kiss was full of passion and adoration for each other.

They both couldn't bear to pull away, matt barely understanding what hed done to deserve her like this. He reached his hand to her cheek to deepen the kiss, pushing his head further to her direction in complete desperation for her. 

Dotty had to pull back first in order to take repeated deep breaths, eyes locked onto matts as she processed what she just did. Her hands stayed gripping matts shirt, not yet ready for the moment to pass. She only removed one hand to sign the same phrase back at him. 

‘ i love you ‘

a/n R YALL HAPPY NOW 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this made me miss my wife so im upset

[butyoudidthis4what]

Pleaseeeee do pope with stripper reader!! I will forever be in your debt!

It will be happening 😂 there are now way too many thoughts in the notes app of my phone for it to not happen. I'm only on season 2 right now so I'd like to get at least a little further in to get a better read on him, but I'm thinking about it very loosely following the character development we see on the show with him, but probably at a somewhat accelerated pace with Reader. I have 100% already seen them meeting in my mind and have all that down.

I'm still trying to decide how exactly I want to play it all out but my thoughts so far are:

slow burn, like reallllllllllllly slow burn

almost a type of friends to lovers vibe

reader doesn't have sex with customers (makes the storyline a bit less complicated for me)

Pope gets almost a little obsessive how he does but reader likes it

reader is absolutely not at all scared of Pope

reader's personality is somewhat the opposite of Pope's in the sense that she talks more, teases him from the beginning, is confident in herself BUT she meets Pope where he's at and doesn't try to force him to engage

reader has some sort of very flexible day job, right now I'm thinking she's an author with a book deal

I'm going to have to come up with some nickname that only reader calls Pope (I want her calling him something special so not Pope, Andrew is out because someone I'm very close with has a partner named Andrew, and Andy is the name of a dead uncle so I'm a little torn on that one but it could probably be fine) so if you have suggestions for that let me know

Thoughts? Opinions? Feedback? Ideas? I'm open to it all as I let this percolate in the back of my mind. Feel free to comment in replies or asks or DMs.

I know this probably isn't what some people wanted or expected when they heard stripper!reader with Pope, so I'm sorry if it doesn't float your boat, and if it appears to float nobody's boat then maybe it'll change.

Thank you for sending in this ask anon! I love hearing from everyone! ♥️

[nightscythe]

primarchs and their unbalanced love

adapted this request slightly so it wasn't just a sentence and focused more on them. if this didn't meet what you wanted anon, please let me know!

pre-heresy, tw on curze/alpharius for yandere like behaviour // your relationship with the primarch would always be unbalanced because you're just a human. you reach your breaking point and end things.

lion: you’d noticed the looks, sat quietly as another questioned why you were there and the lion chose to glare rather than defend you, seeing it pointless to explain – it had been luther who told you to run far away and never look back, promising that staying within reach of the primarch would never end well for you. he’s stood upon the allure of the fortress, staring down at the people who praised him. loved him, even, seeing the primarch as a saviour to all they knew. though he was never blind to the criticism of the people when it came to him, especially when it’s voiced so clearly to him. he scans the crowd, slowly, taking every face in until he finds you; watching him already, expression numbed, eyes dull, the hint of your soul already faded. he recalls the last words you said to him as your hands clasped gently over his, the universe was not made for our two souls to be together. he’d grabbed your wrist, tried to stop you from walking away from him, but he never got the chance to tell you. then i will strip the universe bare until it allows us to be. instead you saw anger, rage, a vengeance you knew he was capable of, but he never allowed you to see before. his final words were a promise, leave now, before i remind you why the universe wouldn’t allow us to be together. this was his punishment, your eyes finding his whenever he left the four walls he knew you could never enter, a constant reminder of what he never had.

fulgrim: you’d ignored it at first, what some people were willing to do for the primarch, how they’d have killed for him, to be with him, or even just to hear his voice in person – and one person can only overhear so many discussions on how people plan to kill them before they decide a change is needed, even if it hurts more than anything. the seat at the head of his table felt shameful. all eyes on him, wanting, requiring more from him than he was willing to give. he hadn’t looked up from the embroidered and lace-trimmed placemat that his fingers played with in minutes, avoiding the conversation around him. there weren’t many things that could bring him to silence, let alone people. yet you had managed that. likewise, you’d managed to do the impossible and capture the heart of a man made to never have feelings. when he finally looks up from the placemat, eyes darker than before, the room falls to a sharp silence. the only person he can find the strength to look at is you. across the room from him, dressed in the colours he told you looked perfect, though every other part of you was concealed from him. your eyes never leave the floor, even as the silence continues. of course i’m afraid, you had told him when he approached you, cowering from his larger frame. the image was burned into his mind, torturing him each hour. i would protect you from everything, he reassured you, there is not a thing on this earth that could harm you whilst i still live. he can still feel the way your hand slipped out of his as you turned your back to him. from your father? you had asked, voice hollow, from yourself? fulgrim never answered. the room eventually starts to speak again as fulgrim looks back down to the placemat. only then do you dare to look back at him. 

read more

perty: it was never that you didn’t trust him, but you knew he would never believe that – you’d learnt of what he had done to those who failed him, asked him one too many questions and seen the side of him that everyone had feared but you hadn’t yet seen. he believed he’d ensured that you were erased from every record related to him. believed he’d never see your face again, never hear your voice, embrace your smile, or enjoy your laughter filling the halls. weeks had passed without any part of your presence, and he believed he needed it, yet every step he took his soul felt lonelier than before. he’d thought he’d heard your voice a few times, chased the sound down empty hallways to find nothing but the ghosts of his memories. he believed today was no different when he heard your call from one of the rooms; one which sounded so real it stopped him in his tracks. he waited, listened, wanted to hear more – a wish which was fulfilled within seconds and has him tracking down the source. he almost stumbles through the doorway where the sound is loudest, catching himself on the stone frame but still garnering your attention. you don’t speak, not even as the woman opposite to you bows and offers her apologies. but the longer your gaze is locked, the more his nostrils flare, the tighter his jaw tenses. leave, he tells you, coldly, lest i remind you how quickly i can have you removed for good. you only nod, slowly, stepping back from him quietly and dragging your eyes down to the ground. he waits, watches, hears your voice tell him how you felt unsure of your place within these walls. when you look up to him one last time, he feels the snarl at the back of his throat. if you did not feel safe then, why would you feel safe now? he questions. why would you trust me now? 

khan: you’d watched men die, seen how expendable life was with your own eyes, and seen how quickly he had moved past it, leaving only one thought on your mind – that you must have been just as expendable as everyone else he stood over. the hardest part of all was accepting it. he sat with a handful of his sons around, none daring to look at their primarch who had scarcely looked beyond the spot right in front of him for the past two days. all he did was think. about this, about him, about you. it could never go beyond that though, he never was able to find peace in his own thoughts nor in the conversation with others. but you had come on your own volition, hearing of the primarch’s unusual silence amongst other gossip from the crowds, and when he saw you in front of him, slowly coming to rest on your knees, it was the first time he found the right words to say out loud. you’re wrong about everything, he says, not giving you a moment to speak. you nod, once, though you do not speak. he fills the space between you with more necessary words. i would not make a promise so lightly if i did not know it could be fulfilled. but i assure you, with everything i could offer, that your life will never be in danger so long as i live. your silence is excruciating, the throbbing in his body getting quicker and quicker as he waits for your answer. but it never seems to come. but if you cannot trust me that i will make true on my promise, then i shall not ask anymore of you, but to remember how deeply i cared for you.  

leman: he had tried his best to keep you separate, despite the loyalty his sons offered and how deep their bond went – but when you’d started to understand why he was called the executioner, why his legion was known to be so deadly, and when you discovered everything he had been responsible in the name of his father, you realised that you would never have been spared. his body ached. he’d thrown himself into any situation he could, begged that the all father would bless him with something that could knock him out cold and give him some breathing room for just a few moments. every single one of his thoughts was about the same thing. doubt. of himself, of his capabilities, of anything he had ever considered a strength. each time raised his weapon and bared his teeth, your words took over his mind. you will never be enough. his mind falls silent to what you had actually told him. you do not have it in you to stand up to your loyalties over a mere human. you could not betray everything you know, everything you stand for, just because they disagree with me, or do not want me, or think i am unworthy. he didn’t want you to be right about it. and as he stood there, broke another man’s bones without even thinking, he realised he still couldn’t argue against you. the thump of a body hitting the ground forces him to tear his sight back to reality, focus shifting from the cheers around him, to the man laying before him, to your eyes at the back of the room, never looking away. you would never be unworthy, he’d told you before, a sentiment still felt, i wouldn’t care what anyone said about you, it is only me who gets to decide if you are worthy to be at my side. you’d smiled softly then, just as you are now. only until someone tells you i can’t be. 

dorn: you had gotten used to all his quirks, you’d grown to love it over time, and it was nothing in particular that had pushed you to your limit other than time – when you looked at him one day, you allowed yourself to wonder for too long what it might look like if he stopped loving you, and there was no space at his side for you. it took him longer than usual to process your words. far too long, in fact, because by the time he’d looked up to you, you were already walking away, your bow in his direction and a mumbled apology lost within his conscious thoughts. he watches you walk away from him, only taking a few steps towards you when you near the end of the long room, but freezing immediately when you turn back to him, only looking over your shoulder. you should know that i will always love you, you tell him, sigh leaving your lips as you turn to face the exiting doors once more. you take a step, slower than before, and that’s when he decides to finally speak. i will try harder, he promises, moving towards you again, whatever you need from me, say the word, i will do it. because i… he stops, both his words and his movements. you turn back to him again, this time fully, lips gapped and eyes clouded. his jaw tenses for just a moment as he finds the words, knowing already that they weren’t enough. i would do anything for you, to consolidate the love i have for you. won’t you let me have that chance? you shake your head slowly; you’ve already told him it was out of his control. won’t you at least let me try? he asks again. it wouldn’t have mattered, even if you did. not many things in the world made him feel powerless, other than you. 

curze: there was always whispers of what he was capable of, always a forgotten story of what he had done before, and you’d still fallen into his charm with open arms – realising soon that the real enemy within was the legion he had also grown to hate, but that didn’t mean you were able to leave . the room was cold, dark. everything he loved to have, especially seeing as you’re sat on the floor in the corner, wide eyes watching him with your knees pulled into your chest. he can’t help the way a grin creeps back onto his face as he approaches. did you miss me? he asks, gently, stopping only a foot or so away from you. he crouches down to your level, reaching out a hand to trace over your own. he sighs, content as you don’t pull away from him this time. i thought of you every moment. i wondered if you were thinking of me too. he leans forward, face closer to yours, hand reaching for your chin when you try to look away. i made a promise to you, my little dove. do you recall? he waits, though never expects an answer. not when your lips are quivering, body shaking. he only smiles, reaching around to drape his cloak over you as if it was the cold causing your reaction. i promised you that i would make this work. that you would never need to leave me, that you did not need to fear for anyone near me any longer. and where are we now? another silence falls between you. one enjoyed, revered. you’re with me, and you’re safe from any harm. he’d chosen to ignore himself in that equation, though. 

sanguinius: despite his sweetness, how he touched you as though you were the softest feather, you knew what followed behind him – when you became a target as well and realised that your life was in danger unless you were always at his side, you knew it had reached its limit. it never mattered that he’d commanded armies, that he’d survived impossible feats, that he was beloved by the imperium and treasured by all as the great angel that was impossibly perfect in all ways. something inside of him had broken, snapped clean in two as the weight of every emotion fell to him at once, overwhelming him beyond anything else he had felt. don’t walk away, he called, halting your steps with the tone of his voice alone. you turned, slowly, faced by his figure that approached you far quicker that you could ever run. is my love not enough for you? do you desire more? every part of me is yours already, yet you still choose to leave me? his voice shakes, words falling rather than being spoken. he drops to his knees before you, never reaching for you, yet begging with eyes that were bloodshot and shattered. i could protect you from anything this universe has to offer, he affirms to you, hands clasped together, i would stand before anything in existence that posed you harm, but that is not enough. he feels the corners of his eyes prick with a feeling unknown, and only then does he reach for your hand and bring it to his cheek, his own hand placed over your own. tell me what more i must do to prove to you that this isn’t a mistake. 

ferrus: his obsession with perfection had sat with you for far too long – you were human, weak, easily killed and willed away, so you knew that one day he’d turn you into something he considered stronger, better, even if he didn’t realise what he was doing. he’d found himself alone far more often since you’d gone. sometimes when he reached for tools on his bench, he expected to feel you instead, sometimes he’d hear the door open and look expectedly as if you were the one walking through the door. though it never was you; not your hand reaching for his when he was trying to do something else, not your cheerful greeting as you approached him. your missed presence was something he understood, but with each day that passed he only wanted to isolate himself more from others too. it all reminded him of you. especially those words that tormented him the most. i am just another weakness that will need correcting. he slams down his hammer harder than before, the sound running your voice straight out of his head. he could have told you that you weren’t a weakness. he could have denied it entirely, but he knew it would be a lie. others could perceive you as such, others would look upon the human at their primarch’s side and wonder why. instead, all he told you was that he wouldn’t correct you, not when he saw nothing for him to change. he let you go, let you walk out of the last space where you felt any safety around him, without telling you what he truly felt. you were already perfect, he speaks to no one, unable to find the strength to continue his work, i never wanted to change a thing about you. though he knew at the bottom of his heart that he may have needed to. 

angron: his mind fracturing wasn’t something you had no awareness of, and you believed that somewhere along the way you had been able to help – but the time he had killed another in front of you was the turning point, even if you claimed it was the whole legion. he had seen the way you always approached corners with caution, how you kept your voice quiet, how seeing you when doors were locked from the outside world was entirely different to having you stand amongst a crowd of people who claimed their support for him. it was his naivety or arrogance that led to ignorance each time, opting to let it pass without issue or never ask what caused it. not until you’d told him, quiet with him for the first time since he knew you, avoiding eye contact and hiding yourself when he drew near, that it was all too much for you. it could never happen, he tells you, pleading as he approaches you, i would never allow a soul here to touch you, to even look at you without welcome. he didn’t understand it fully still, how you believed such harm could come from those around him. or perhaps he did now, and again it was ignorance in the way. what is worse is that you did not come to me about this before, that you waited until the very end to speak a word of your worries and gave me no time to fix them. he sighs, still intent on changing your mind, ready to wage a war in your name if he had to. as he approaches you, reaches his hand towards your shoulder, he notices the way you flinch away. his brows furrow, eyes drifting to his hand before falling on you again. he didn’t understand, because he never realised the extent of it all. it is not just them, he speaks quieter than before, realisation a slow but heavy hit, you find reason to fear me, too.

rob: it wasn’t a quick realisation, but something that built with time; he was never committed, despite what he claimed to feel, and he never reciprocated past your hidden meetings away from the world he lived the rest of the day. he wasn’t mindful of how long had passed since he’d made his way outside to feel… something. he wasn’t sure what he needed, but staring at screens and seeing your reflection, sitting in thrones and wondering if you would approach him, it wasn’t helping. he remembered the last time you stood beside him, watching the stars quietly, you both enjoying company more than anything. but in a moment he wished to declare something forbidden in the eyes of many, you’d looked up to him with the most delicate of smiles and carried their views. this cannot continue, you’d whispered, softly, echoing the thoughts that had first crossed his mind, if i could make a wish for anything, it would be for this, for us, but… he’d reached for your hand before you could continue, noticed the way your eyes became glassy. let me make that wish come true, he’d offered, as sincere as he could be, it will not be easy, but i will make things as they need to be to ensure that this does not need to end. your privacy, your safety, it will be kept through every moment, i can ensure you as much. your smile began to fade as you answered, i don’t wish to be hidden, not at your detriment. he wishes he’d have tried harder, stopped you from walking away, or just confessed to you that this was more than just affection. it was never a detriment, not for someone i love. perhaps you’d hear his unspoken words when you looked at the stars, too. 

morty: he’d never changed, and you had loved it for him once, until you understood that mercy had never been something he wanted to offer, nor would learn to – and it reminded you that he was someone to be feared. he’s stood in a doorway watching you. hasn’t moved in minutes, maybe longer, never letting his eyes go further than just past where you’re sitting. if he moved, if he spoke, if he dared to even breathe every part of him would shatter in the reality that you had brought to him. no asking, no talking, just the simple words that he trusted you to never say to him, because you’d always promised him that he was enough. please try to understand, you say gently, eliciting nothing more than a scowl in response, i’m worried, i feel fear just treading the ground around you, afraid someone may take it the wrong way or see me in a different way to how you see me. he looks down from your eyes for merely a second, just long enough for everything inside to crumble. do you not think that’s selfish? he doesn’t move closer, doesn’t try to approach you. do you not think that you could have tried harder, just for me? his chest burns as you look away from him sorrowfully, but unlike him, you never look back. it never ceases to amaze me how similar all you humans are. he still doesn’t turn, even as his words turn sour. do you not think i worry too? i see your vulnerability, i consider it with every decision i make, every step i take, and you still wouldn’t believe that was enough. his laugh is bitter, a frail cover for the emptiness within, something only you had been able to fill, and seal away by a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. go, but know that if i ever see you again, you will be treated no differently than everyone else, then you will truly know fear.  

magnus: you knew of his power, understood what he was capable of, never once feared for your life around him – but the whispers in your dreams telling you to move on only became louder, and so did the vision of your death at his hands. the only room he can sit in without memories beginning to haunt him is one you never touched. a small room that had been filled with old books and relics, now cleared so he could sit inside and feel freedom for five minutes of the day. your absence caused him more pain that he could admit to, let alone handle, but he had forced himself to leave you to the peace you wanted in the hopes that maybe you’d understand what it was like without him. his allocated five minutes of freedom are over before he hopes and he’s forced back into the emptiness that the rest of tizca brought him. as he walks the halls, he replays fragments of your words to him. i do trust you, beyond anything, but this is far bigger than just you or i. he’d contemplated the consequences of giving everything up. you could not prevent fate, even if you wished to. but he would always try. love was never meant to exist between us. those words stop him completely. his hands are curled into fists at his side, breathing deepening to the point where he can barely feel reality around him. he doesn’t have time to realise what’s changed, not until he can feel you with him, presence alluring as he feels your discontent, your sadness, filling every crack of time and space between you both. he’s not there, not physically, but he sees you turn to him as though you know he’s there. let me try to make it work between us, he asks, quietly, never expecting a return. it never could work, you answer, we were not made for each other. 

horus: of course there was talks about it, you’d heard of the intention to make him warmaster the second it had reached prying ears – and it was in that moment, you realised you could never stay with him. the feeling didn’t sit right with him, not when he knew you were right there yet entirely untouchable to him. he could bring planets to heel, he could crusade in the name of his father, but he couldn’t convince you that love was enough. it had sat on his mind for days as he tried to come up with a speech to change your mind, have you fall to your knees and accept him like he always wanted. the speech never came, the opportunity to approach you never manifested, not until he saw you speaking with a face he didn’t recognise within the grand hall one evening. weeks of stewed emotions and feelings seem to hit him at once as he approached you, ending your conversation as another person bowed to him. i don’t know how to change things, he tells you, honestly, eyes never leaving your own despite how they dart around the room. if i couldn’t convince you then, i won’t be able to convince you now. but that doesn’t change how deeply my love burns for you. he doesn’t care if others heard, but he knows you do. so tell me how i can make this work. what do you need from me?  you can’t answer him immediately, swallowing hard and breaths quick. you open your lips just a little, then shut them once more, looking down to the ground. he knows your answer; you’ve told him before. i need you to not be you.  

lorgar: you had been warned by many, knowing the threat you posed to their regime, knowing that you had taken the primarch’s attention away from what should truly matter – and revenge was promised. he believed this was his punishment. he had let his devotion slip and focused his attentions elsewhere, and his reward was replaced with a love that could never be returned. he kneels at an altar as his eyes fall shut. immediately he’s tormented by the ghost of your hands on his skin, pressing over his shoulder, skimming his chest; or your lips pressed softly against his neck. then he hears the echoes of a whisper, what was left of your presence in his world. i could never love another as much as i love you. his lips curl at each word. he’d replay it a thousand times over and over, never to be sick of the sound. but then it falls eerily silent, his mind pushed to another time he had tried so hard to hide. you cannot love me, you’d told him, words cutting through any remainer of the faith he held, not in the way that i love you, not in the way that anyone could love you. he opens his eyes, darkness of the room around him a greeting he wished never came. but your words don’t stop. your life has never been decided by you. he can feel how you sat in his lap and whispered it to him. i was never to be part of your life. i’ve become a variable that they cannot control. if i stay… you had never finished, but he knew. he’d watched you walk away, he’d reached out his hand to stop you but never called. was it better this way? he asks, call to the void ignored by all around him. do you truly believe love is only dictated to me? his world may have been controlled by others, but what he felt for you. 

vulkan: an offhanded comment was made, not by the astartes, not even by anyone close to the primarch, but a serf who was yet to know their place – and though it should mean nothing, the mention of your humanity is a harsh reminder of how separate your worlds were. the silence looming through the room was unnatural. if anyone had entered his private chamber, they’d have known he was mourning; not someone lost, but something gone. quietude was a welcomed guest around him for some time, the only break offered being a forced schedule or something he wished to not attend. but he knew his duties were not to be missed. do not think for a second i doubted you, he recalled you telling him, stood no more than a few feet from where he now sat. your love is true and i know that, but i also know that you are more than i could ever be. he hated how all he did was listen. how he agreed; how he let you walk away from him with little more than a kiss to the back of his hand and a request of a promise for him to try to understand. he did, somewhere beyond the depths of his emotions, but he also knew that to him, you were everything. you would never see that though. you would never have believed him when he told you that he would make sure your authority matched his, that no one would ever stand up to you or question your place. in every other lifetime we’d have found each other, he’d spoken quietly the last time he felt your warmth, i’d have given all of those away to have a chance to be with you in this one. 

corvus: you’d first noticed the way his attention seemed to always divert to you, but the moment you watched him make a mistake because of you, it was obvious your time at his side was limited. at first he was worried you’d be able to feel his presence. he wondered whether you’d see him in the corner of your eyes, hear his footsteps you knew so well, understand that your shadow wasn’t the only thing that had been following you this whole time. he shouldn’t be here, he should have given you the space you wanted and left you to what you had chosen, but the temptation was far too high for him to ignore it. whether you were doing the simplest tasks or something he chose to pay no attention to, he wanted to see it. he wanted you. and he truly thought he had gotten away with it, that his cover in the darkness of night and shadows was enough to keep him hidden away, prevent you from noticing the fear that lurked beyond. but as he turned into the alley where you had walked only moments ago, it was your smaller frame that stopped him with a hand held up to his chest. this only proves my point, you say to him, glare harsher than he expected, this is what i was afraid of. he only reaches for your hand to take it off him, chest already filled with anticipation and regret. i promised you your safety, he tries to tell you, his excuse meaningless. it was never that which you cared about. you were caught off-guard by a mere human in pursuit of me. the longer i’m around, the more of a danger you are to yourself. he never said you were wrong. he just didn’t want to admit you were right. 

alpharius: you’d found the collection of information that the alpha legion had on you, and believed there was no way you could ever live your normal life again – but you hadn’t stopped to consider if it really was the legion you were at risk of. watches you closely, head tilted slightly to the side. your happiness has faded, he can see it in the way you carry yourself so rigidly, tensing whenever anyone comes near. he sees the way your eyes scan the room like you’re waiting for something to surprise you; someone to be there that you were trying to desperately to avoid. he feels the smile falling onto his lips as he begins to approach, cautiously, truly believing that his surprise would be welcomed. as the room fell silent, you froze, and the grin that manifested on his lips only grew. are you okay, my love? he asks, hand on your back, tensed under his touch. you didn’t look to him, but he could feel all your attention on him already. i must applaud you on how convincing this all was. i did truly think that you had left. no one would dare question him, no matter how much fear was in your eyes. when you told me you were leaving, i’ll admit i was worried. but that i remembered that everything you said to me, how you were worried of what my father would do, or what my legion may say, or what my brothers might have done to you… it was all wrong. he reaches for your cheek, turning you to face him. his thumb ghosts your skin. he hums gently as he breathes in. it was an interesting way to test me, i will give you that much. perhaps not even a test of my loyalty, but this connection between us. i just wonder, my love, when did you realise that the only person you needed to fear was me?

i am getting on top of requests i promise, i've been very distracted with both catching pokemon and the nameless king, whose love i have rediscovered through nightreign, but the corvus fic is almost done ^^

[thetrasha]

HI! i loved your past headcanons about benn beckman, could you please write a once shot with a f reader that he met at a bar who is younger? (like early 20s) i really loved the flirt headcanons that you wrote♥️

Sure thing, anon 🫡Thank you so much for liking that post, means a lot to get feedback on my stuff (✿◡‿◡) And now I get to flesh out the idea, hooray!! I hope you like this one, too

I feel like I've somehow attracted all the Beckman girlies, ngl ☕Well... You're getting fed with this one at least LOL

Lover Boy at Play

BENN BECKMAN EDITION

You’d been minding your own business inside a rundown tavern at the edge of your home island. It’s been some time since you’ve seen the outskirts of the villages surrounding the city, but it was still a nostalgic experience that brought back feelings you had long forgotten about on your journey to become who you are today. You remember learning how to swim near the cliffs and you caught your first fish here, too. Fond memories clung to this place, even if the shops and other businesses here haven’t changed in twenty years, perhaps even longer. Maybe that’s why you were drawn to this place after you finished school and got your first job. You got your first taste of the madness of adult life – this very region here made you and you cannot help but look back with a smile, grateful for every image that resembled your childhood so much.

Still, this nostalgic bar should have, at the very least, adjusted the menu over the course of so many years! Luxuries were still rare in these rural areas, but… this was incredibly bleak and barren.

“Excuse me! Sir. Sir. Oh. Yes! It’s me… yes, yes, haha… I grew up… Yes, I finished school a few years ago. Oh? Uh-huh. Top of my class, yup. Y-you saw me in the newspaper? That’s so sweet… and so… embarrassing, hah. Huh? Yes, I have a job. I work as– Uh… thanks! Um… yes, my mum’s fine. Dad too. …I will pass it on then, yeah. So… um, –yes! I’m sure they’d love to come here. Yes, we still live in the city. I just moved out, though! But… do you mind making me a cocktail?”

You awkwardly conversed with the aged owner you haven’t seen in at least ten years, remembering how much he scolded you and your friends for playing in front of his bar when you were children. Looking back, he was probably looking out for you guys, but you couldn’t help but like him a lot more now that he’s completely mellowed down and seemingly enjoying his retirement in the place he built all by himself.

Even if the look he gave you was kind of funny.

He immediately called his son, who’d been manning the bar, over to ask him what “young people” liked to drink these days… And you didn’t have the heart to tell either of them that his son was at least fifteen years older than you and couldn’t possibly know either…

Well, the simplicity of life around here was pretty much what you expected, so you may have to make due with a lukewarm beer or a double-shot espresso. Sigh…

You were so focused on the situation at hand that you haven’t even noticed that… the clientele inside of this bar was… well, rather unusual.

And every pair of eyes subtly followed you around, nothing that you were just a city girl that stumbled into a bar for pirates. This time around, by the way, the pirates in question were not just some nobodies – they were an Emperor of the Sea and his entire crew… and you were none the wiser.

“Pretty thing.”, Shanks chuckled quietly, moving his hand in a circular motion that had the ice in his whisky rhythmically clinking against the glass.

The men at the table nodded.

Roux might as well have had stars in his eyes at the sight of you. Girls like you were nowhere to be found at sea, you were… so cute and so pretty. You easily looked like a princess.

Yasopp looked at your attire – civilian. No status, nothing. Just hard work and a face that belonged on a poster. The good kind. Man, he really didn’t think they made him like you anymore, but goddamn…

Benn sighed at this circus, walking up to you with an unspoken swagger in his steps. His heavy physique would have made the wooden planks creak under his boots if it weren’t for his feather-light steps that gave him the grace of a cat… and the silenced movements of an actual killer.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

You were alerted by a sudden presence to your right. This voice was entirely unfamiliar to you, so you turned your head with wide eyes and a slightly startled pout on your lips, trying to decipher who was trying to waste your time on this special occasion.

“Hello…?”

What you saw was beyond surprising. You’d barely snapped your eyes up at the man who’s come to bother you before the sheer thickness of his frame registered in your brain. This man was big and burly – and the deep groves in his cheeks silently told the tale of someone who’s seen some things, while his scarred, calloused hands reminded you of the fact that he certainly did some things as well. It was glaringly obvious that he was dangerous, but he didn’t even give you the chance to turn him down! As soon as he opened his mouth, yours stood wide agape.

“Do me a favour and do not entertain any of these idiots over there.”

He jerked his head to the side and put extra emphasis on his ridiculous statement by pointing his thumb straight into the direction he just emerged from. He rolled his grey eyes, seemingly bored with this conversation… like he’s done this a million times before. How weird.

“…Okay? But… you’re the first and only stranger to talk to me.”

That earned yourself a hearty laugh that made you feel incredibly small compared to this imposing man. You rubbed your elbows in self-consciousness as your cheeks heated up in shame upon stating the obvious to a man who was greying… You felt like you were wasting his time now. This man took charge of the whole situation with a single stern look and easily dominated the conversation with his charisma – you’ll never know why he wanted to talk to you in particular.

“Oh, believe me, Doll. They’re just itching to be in my place. Bet they’re watching me right now.”

You subtle glanced over his shoulder. It was hard to see anything at all; he was just that tall, but you did indeed caught glimpses of his friends (?) who were silently fuming in their seats, totally mocking him by puffing out their chest and repeating the nicknames he’s called you.

“Yeah, they are. How did you know?”, you questioned. You’d pretty much figured that they were pirates by now, but that didn’t tell you anything about your acquaintance’s perception skills. Maybe he was naturally that good at reading the room, who knows…

“How did I know, sweetheart? I’ve been living with these clowns for more than ten years. I know ‘em like the back of my hand.” “Sounds like you really love them.”, you replied with a breathy chuckle, then taking a sip of the cocktail you’d just ordered. It wasn’t what you were used to, but you liked it. They used syrup to sweeten the rum and added water to dilute it even more, which you thought was a cute gesture. “Clever girl.”

His voice dropped an octave, gaze equally as darkened. Your breath hitched at that – ah, so this is where this was going. The worst thing was that you didn’t even mind because he’d marinated you too well to refuse him now. You just had to see how this ends… No risk, no reward. “Also sounds like you wanted to prove a point to these ‘clowns’.”

“Go on…”, he leaned against a nearby barrel, crossing his gigantic arms over his masculine chest.

“I mean… I’m feeling pretty charmed right now.”, you sighed dramatically, clearly making fun of the situation which the naughty stranger immediately picked up on with an amused shake of his head, “Sounds to me like you still got it.”

You took one look at him again. He was handsome in a sort of rugged way, marked by years of hard labour and legendary brawls. The scars at his temples caught your eye, noting the deep cut that went well into his hairline. What in the world happened to receive those?

“Damn, woman after my own heart.”, he churred in his deep voice; he even held out his hand and you thought he wanted to shake yours, but before you had the chance to react, he’d already pulled you in to kiss your knuckles, “Name’s Benn, by the way. Hey, you mind giving me that in writing? Wanna show it off to everyone I know.”

“Don’t think you need to do that, Benn. Think they heard just fine.”, you winked, feeling pretty flirtatious right now, too. And you were just in luck – because Benn decided to play along and playfully hit the top of the barrel he was leaning on, smiling ever so slightly as he raised his arms in defence.

“Aw snap, I’ve been found out…”, he paused briefly before a hand landed right behind you on the bar you were sitting at, almost caging you in, “But you could still give me your name and number, love. You know, to have you as an available witness.” You snorted, but obliged with his request. Not even his silly excuse could hide the measured mischief in his voice. He was just… a complete and utter tease. He was lucky that his shamelessness was hypnotic to the point of seduction.

“Thanks, (Y/N). Gorgeous name.”, he smirked, “See you around. Enjoy your drink, I already paid for it.”

You couldn’t but giggle at the chorus of groans that followed that flirty stranger returning to his table and showing them a certain slip of paper.

[rainrot4me]

first time requesting kinda nervous 😳 how the proxies (emphasis on toby and ben ofc) would react to meeting a fangirl

please..

✦ . jeff the killer

At first? He eats it up.

She’s squealing, telling him how “hot” he is, asking about the murders like they’re the newest trend—and Jeff’s smirking like a celebrity caught in public.

“Damn. You read the whole thing? You must be real desperate.”

He’ll let her fawn over him, lean in close, give her that predator grin. He likes that power, but it gets boring fast. The second she asks for a selfie, he’s already pulling a knife.

“You think I’m some fandom character? Cute. Let’s make it real.”

Fangirl or not—if she treats him like a fantasy? He’ll remind her what the real Jeff feels like.

✦ . ticci toby

Toby would be so weirded out. The second she starts gushing about his “axe aesthetic” and how she read “sooo many x readers with him,” he’s just standing there like: 😬

“Wait. You… like me? Like… that?”

He’ll stutter, glance around, then get real uncomfortable when she tries to touch his hoodie or talk about his stutter like it’s “cute.”

He might end up blurting something violent just to shut her up. Snapping like a cornered dog.

“You know I’ve g-gutted people, right? Like for real. This isn’t so-some fantasy, girl.”

But if she’s persistent? He’ll probably flee the scene before he short-circuits.

✦ . eyeless jack

Stone. Cold. Silence.

She’s freaking out—“OMG JACK I LOVE YOU,” waving her phone around showing art of him shirtless, gushing about his “dark aura.”

Jack just… stares. Doesn’t say a word.

“You love me, huh?” Leans in. Sniffs her.

“What part of organ consumption do you find romantic?”

She keeps babbling. He calmly says,

“Take one step closer, and I’ll remove your fingers and make you watch.”

Jack does not want to be romanticized. The only way he’s tolerating a fangirl is if she comes with an organ donor heart on her driver’s license.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Tim’s immediately suspicious.

Fangirl energy? Red flag. He thinks she’s either a plant from the cops, a proxy from another faction, or batshit unstable.

“What the hell is this?”

When she starts talking about his trauma like it’s character development, it pushes his buttons fast.

He might pin her to the wall just to see how quick she screams.

“You like killers so bad? Then act like prey.”

No patience. No tolerance. She gets too touchy and she’s knocked out cold.

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Brian just… vanishes. The minute she starts gushing about his “mystery” and calling him “babygirl,” he’s halfway across the forest.

If she catches him off guard?

He’ll give her the iciest stare ever. Total silence.

“You’re not supposed to know I exist.”

If she pushes it, though—tries to flirt, pulls the “I can fix you” line—he’ll pull his gun and level it calmly at her head.

“No. You can’t.”

End of conversation.

✦ . kate the chaser

Kate’s first instinct? Mockery.

“Oh my god, are you… serious? You’re crushing?”

If the fangirl is cringe, she’ll go hard. Insults, intimidation, laughter.

“Lemme guess. Daddy issues and a Tumblr archive full of fake blood edits.”

But if the fangirl is confident, maybe even a little unhinged? Kate will be curious.

“You’ve got guts. Let’s see if they’re pretty on the floor.”

Don’t fangirl at Kate unless you’ve got the spine to back it up.

✦ . ben drowned

Ben is loving it.

She’s talking about his glitches, his tragic past, how he’s her “favorite haunted boy.” He lounges back and smirks, soaking in every second.

“Damn, you do got good taste.”

He’ll flirt back, call her Player 2, maybe even offer to show her the inside of his code. But if she starts crossing lines—calling him her “anime husbando” or posting about it online—he’ll crash her phone.

“This ain’t a play date, baby. This is a curse.”

Still, he’s the most likely to entertain a fangirl. For a while. Especially if she’s hot.

✦ . clockwork

Natalie hates it.

The minute a girl starts calling her “mommy” or complimenting her “yandere energy,” she’s already planning how to break her fingers.

“You think murder’s cute? You think me ripping someone’s throat out is adorable?”

She’ll mock the fangirl’s voice, imitate her squealing, then lean in and whisper something truly vile just to shut her down.

“Say one more thing about my clock and I’ll turn you into a organless corpse.”

But if the girl’s genuinely respectful? Nat might spare her. Maybe. Barely.

✦ . laughing jack

LJ is delighted. He thinks fangirls are hilarious.

“You read stories about me? Did they get the part where I pulled a kid’s intestines out like party streamers?”

He’ll lean into it, play the part, even sign her arm in fake blood if it makes her scream.

But deep down, he’s analyzing her. Seeing how far she’s willing to go. How far he can push.

“Ohhh, you’re obsessed with me? That’s adorable. Let’s test it, sugarpop.”

She might think it’s fun and games. Until the lights in his eyes go out and his smile fades.

✦ . slenderman

Utter disdain.

He senses her miles away. Her obsession. Her idealization.

“You perceive me as fiction.”

She comes running with fanart and poems and glittery Tumblr edits—he doesn’t even blink. Just tilts his head.

“Fascinating. You mistake horror for romance. Let me correct your delusion.”

One look from him and her mind could shatter. He’s not here to be idolized.

He is the myth. And myth doesn’t bend for fangirls.

꩜ .ᐟ

[zazaiafe2]

I really like the approach your blog takes towards shifting in this community full of "Just assume" "Just decide that you're in your DR" yada yada. Although that does work, and the law of assumption sure is real, I do believe in it. But its application (keyword: Application) to things like shifting is something I have no idea how to do and I'm sure I am not the only one who has this issue, especially if the DRs are very "different" from our CR (fictional DRs most of the time fall under this category) Our ego does indeed play a HUGE role in what our awareness experiences through the physical plane. The "Assume you're in your DR" does work but it then also has many other supporting factors for those it does work and I realized that by reading your posts. Its okay if it does NOT work for some or is really hard to follow through with lets just be honest rn instead of blaming people for "not persisting" or some other crap 😭😭😭 Because straight up using LOA, esp for a place you haven't even felt a breeze of, aren't even completely sure is real??? Can be really wonky.

I thank you for making posts that give ACTUAL STRUCTURE to shift.. that, simply using the LOA logic lacks. And I love how you do state that it is not a process but rather like an instant flick of a switch.

Honestly, I relate to this so much. I used to believe much more strongly in the law of assumption, but the more research I do and the deeper I go into shifting, the less I fully trust it as a universal explanation. I do think it's a tool, and for some people it works great, but assuming it's a one-size-fits-all rule is extremely misleading.

If we take the law of assumption seriously, then we also have to recognize that people have vastly different abilities to assume. I have a highly rational mind and tend to resist anything that feels irrational or unproven. For me to accept something as true, I often need either an explanation or a heavily altered state of consciousness (ASC) where my mind allows it.

Even when I practice hypnosis , I see very clearly how differently people respond to suggestion and belief implantation. For some, one session is enough to accept a belief. For others, it might take dozens of sessions,and still, some struggle. The mind's critical factor doesn't work identically for everyone.

If I still fully believed in LOA, I'd probably say it's been extremely oversimplified, and that some advice can even be harmful. For example, telling someone who's feeling frustrated to "persist" with no nuance can easily backfire and feed into a frustration loop, especially for neurodivergent people or people who cognitively analyze their emotions deeply. The problem is that a lot of LOA advice assumes everyone processes things like belief, assumption, and persistence in the same linear way.

Obviously, for someone who has shifted often, assuming "shifting is real and natural" will be a much easier belief to hold than for someone who's never consciously shifted before. Their awarness already has experiential confirmation. For someone without that, it's a different challenge.

Also, I 100% agree with you that shifting isn't really a process, it's instantaneous at the moment it happens. The "process" is the preparation beforehand. I don’t believe at all in the "3D lag" concept; not only is there no proof for it, but almost everyone who shifts describes it as immediate once it occurs. I think a lot of these "lag" beliefs are more like coping mechanisms or ways to comfort oneself when it's taking longer than expected.

As someone who practices hypnosis, I can confidently say: assumptions and belief implantation are way more unstable and nuanced than people realize. Teaching people that assumption alone is enough, without considering individual differences, does more harm than good for a lot of shifters.

I honestly had a lot to say on this, but to sum it up: I fully agree with your take, and i think it's a part of the spiritual meritocracy and individualistic tendancies.