#“when you love someone but it goes to waste”

[bumblekastclips]

KYLE CROUSE: Alright, we got one last question. It’s from JediPony. [chuckles] Love that name, I don’t know why. It makes me laugh. [reading question] “How would you write an 06 adaptation in Sonic X?” Here’s the question, would you write the 06 adaptation in Sonic X the show, or Sonic X the comic?

IAN FLYNN: [laughs] KYLE: It’s very— two very different things. IAN:Very different things. I don’t know, if we’re gonna be true to the source material, then Elise doesn’t really have a role, and Chris is the one who has the Flames of Disaster sealed inside him. KYLE: [laughing] Oh no! Oh! IAN: “Chris, whatever you do, you can’t cry!” [as Chris, weepily] “But why?!” [Iblis roar] KYLE: It’s all he does! [laughs] No! IAN: Oh, man, now I’m imagining Mephiles with, like, that really bad early 2000s CG effect. All these awful filters flyin’ around. KYLE: Oh, God, no! [laughing] This would be awful. IAN: You’d have, like, the budget episodes where Soleanna and New City are just, like, these flat, grey urban textures that have like, no depth, but then you get to the final episode where they’re doing the Super fight against Solaris, and the animation bump goes through the roof, and it’s glorious. And you forgive the last 26 episodes of your life that you’ve wasted watching it so far. KYLE: Mhm. IAN: [choking the words out through high pitched, wheezing laughter] This means Chris is the one that kisses Sonic back to life! [fit of maniacal laughter] KYLE: [frantic, horrified laughter] No! No! No! No! Ian, no! Ian! No! IAN: [prolonged cackling laughter] KYLE: The worst timeline! Oh, no! IAN: Oh, and Eggman has to be as close as they can get him to photorealistic Eggman in the Sonic X style. KYLE: No! IAN: Which does not work at all! KYLE: No, no, no! No! This is not going on the thumbnail! No! IAN: [wheezing laugh] KYLE: No, do not put this on the thumbnail! [laughing] IAN: Oh, my goodness, just imagine the art errors for Silver’s head alone… KYLE: Oh… no… oh, no… at least Dan Green could still be the voice of Mephiles. IAN: Oh, yeah, that’d be fantastic. [microphone glitches] That’s the only reason to do this. KYLE: That would be— yeah. Oh… IAN: Oh, would they try to hand-animate Omega? Or would he be like, early 2000s CG? KYLE: Just crappy CG, no! IAN: That you just composite into each shot… oh, man, it’d be awful! KYLE: [pained sound not unlike he is receiving a fully conscious appendectomy] Oh! IAN: Wait! [microphone glitches again] They did the weird thing with Sonic and Shadow’s spines when they would turn their heads. What would Silver look like?! KYLE: [resigned groan] IAN: Would it just be like, one giant spine, depending on the angle? [bursts into laughter] KYLE: [groans as if he is dying] Ian… what are you doing… why are you— IAN: [microphone glitches again as if resisting] The Iblis monsters would have the terrible CG effects, too! KYLE: Why am— why am I the reasonable one!

IAN: [laughs] KYLE: Why am I the one who’s being… [gives up on finishing this sentence] IAN: Forget the comic, the comic can’t hold a candle to this idea! KYLE: Oh, no… IAN: [in awe] What a glorious trainwreck! KYLE: What’s even funnier is that your mic is trying to stop you. IAN: [cackles] KYLE: It’s not working. [laughs] So cursed! IAN: The whole thing would be so awful… KYLE: Yeah? IAN: But then there would be, like, this incredibly well-written and poignant subplot about Elise dealing with her emotional trauma, and how Soleanna as a country even works. And it’s like, maybe an episode, maybe two that really gets into it and fleshes out this world in a meaningful and robust manner. KYLE: [chuckles] Yeah. IAN: And that’s it. That’s like— that and Dan Green are the only redeeming things out of this season. KYLE: [sigh, reading chat] Ian, in the chat… IAN: Yeah. KYLE: In the Bumblekast Discord server, open it up. There’s a little piece of art there. Someone has, uh, sketched Silver. [chuckles] IAN: [seeing it, delighted, evil] Yes! KYLE: [laughing] IAN: Cursed Toucan Sam! KYLE: [cackles] Oh no! Why do you…? No! Awful! Toucan— IAN: [as Silver] “Just follow my nose, wherever it goes!” KYLE: [horrified, amused] Toucan Silver! No! [emits the world’s most drawn-out, pained cry of defeat] IAN: Psycho-beak-nesis! KYLE: [laughing] Bumblekast was a mistake! IAN: [laughs] It was, but at least we’re over with it for today. KYLE: [laughing] Oh… I guess so.[outro music fades in]

EPISODE THUMBNAIL by the incredible @nintendoni-art

—— TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It’s just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don’t like an answer, you don’t have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It’s all just for fun!

#bumblekast #ian flynn #kyle crouse #sonic the hedgehog #idw sonic #sonic x #sonic 06 #princess elise #silver the hedgehog #soleanna #e 123 omega #eggman #writing questions #Youtube

[ackerfics]

my love is mine all mine ch 3 | toji fushiguro x female reader

part one of to the girls who are failed by the narrative series.

series summary:

'the glorified womb', 'the heir bearer', 'the blessed flower of the jujutsu society' — they are just some of the titles given to the women of your mother's clan, and all of them eventually fell to you, the prodigal firstborn who has the misfortune of birthing someone who will be stronger than their predecessors. with the fate of someone's clan on your shoulders, there are only a handful of things told to you while growing up; be as demure as you can be, never open your mouth and squash your thoughts, sit with a posture befitting that of a lady wearing an invisible yet heavy diadem. but the one that rings the most goes like this: your only purpose in this world is to be a silent wife to a man who will give you the opportunity to carry the next generation of powerful sorcerers. you remember all of these as you walk toward zen'in ogi in your uchikake, the constricting material around your waist akin to the gripping hold of your cursed technique.

and in fate's funny little ways of fabricating legacies and stories, you forget them when you are spirited away by the man who always welcomes the coming of the seasons with you without fail.

chapter title: the answer will be an echo: why did you do this?

warnings: the zen'in clan.

Your sister inherited the Joushou clan’s cursed technique.

It’s an announcement that has any member of your family reeling. What a waste, they say. This could have been phenomenal if not for the sex of the child. What good would a woman have if they assume the position of heir to a powerful clan that owns shrines of purification for generations? And with the head’s reluctance in re-marrying another pitiful woman, there is no chance that a son will be celebrated, which brings you at this moment—holding your little sister who was given the role of the heir a few months ago. It’s something that you have to accept for you have no ability to create a field of reversed cursed technique that can nullify any nearby techniques.

Four years have gone and your sister celebrated four birthdays with only you and a couple of loyal maids by her side. Your father, being the head of the clan, has growing paperwork and responsibilities on top of his desk with the passing years. Now older, your father has been scrambling with marriage proposals from other clans, all vying to have you in their hold — their riches on his table.

A wife. Pliant, obedient, meek, poised, virtuous; are some of the traits expected of you. They are drilled in your head every time you have lessons with your current tutor, a lady from one of the Joushou branch households, one Lady Yukina. Despite the harshness of the lessons she brings, she might be the only old lady who has never looked at you with disdain. Her gaze fills with understanding and sometimes sympathy when she reminds you that you have to be a woman fit for the jujutsu society.

You have long since understood that even with a title to your name, you are not safe from the whims of men. You remain as a piece in their games, meant to be broken when Time and Fate are not merciful to your soul. You know it—after all, your mother has lived long enough to tell the tale.

The Hanamo clan has always stood as the harbinger of a new generation of sorcerers, as the historians so love to write about in their scriptures. 

The ancestry flowing in your veins is proof that you will always be tied to the workings of the jujutsu world, that you will be a slave to the norms delegated by the higher-ups who uphold the traditions of time immemorial. It continues to resemble the essence of your existence. Without it, you are nothing but a husk—tossed aside for lacking purpose. To put it bluntly, you don’t want to be a wife if it means having a life lived by your mother. You are older now and aside from gaining marriage proposals, you have gained this awareness that not even your father can prevent. You wish to enjoy what they call middle school. At your age, you can’t help but think that maybe you could have been a senior. You want to join clubs, stay at school after classes, or go to cram school because you want to enter a prestigious high school. You long to experience staying up late and getting confession letters in lockers—feel the giddiness stolen glances in a room brings.

However, since Fate is not kind to girls like you, you are stuck here letting the wind carry your thoughts.

“Onee-chan!” 

“Hmm?”

You are drawn to reality at the sound of your precious little sister’s voice.

“What is it, Tiny?”

She giggles, teeth showing and eyes crinkling in happiness at the syllables of her nickname from you. The little girl of four bounds over to the picnic blanket that you are sitting on, the constricting material of the kimono around her figure preventing her from running too wildly. You carefully watch her, your arms stretching out and torso leaning forward when she nearly topples to the ground. The sigh of relief your chest has been holding is let out when she is secure in your arms, which is then followed by a small huff since she has been getting bigger. The little girl in your embrace places her chin on your chest, her pudgy cheeks pressing against you. “Onee-chan’s sadness, go away. I don’t want Onee-chan to be sad.”

You hum, your smile mirroring hers. “Why would I be sad when I have the cutest, most special girl in my arms?”

She squeals when your fingers start tickling her sides.

“Onee-chan, no!” Her voice is being carried by the wind, gleefully intermingling with the melody of the breeze. “Stop it!”

Laughter continues to bubble in your throat. A huge surge of warmth prompts you to lean down to press your forehead against your sister’s. “Why would I be sad when I get to see the most precious thing smile and laugh?” You nuzzle your nose on her hair. She always smells of something citrus and sweet, a combination fitting for the reason behind your smiles. “Tiny, your existence is enough to drive the sadness away. Nothing can make me shed tears if you’re here by my side.”

“Did Mama feel like that about me?” The slightest falter in your demeanour is unnoticed by your sister. “Ah! I didn’t mean to make Onee-chan sad again.”

“What?” You breathe out. You try painting a smile on your lips. “I’m not sad.”

“You are!” She retorts with an adorable scrunch on her nose. “The flowers never lie, Onee-chan! They always lose their colour when you’re sad.” You don’t even have to ask how your sister knows about your connection with the flowers in the garden because she continues explaining in a tone that is awfully similar to Father when he was still instilling the ways of the clans in you when you were a child. “Aida-san told me that Mama’s family speaks to flowers. I know Onee-chan can speak to them, too, and just like me, they feel sad when Onee-chan is sad.”

“I do have a smart girl for a baby sister,” you muse, running your hand through her hair. “Yes, Mama could speak with any kind of plant you can think of and I know that your existence is something she asked for; she prayed every night for you to be here. You are her precious little dewdrop—I know it because the flowers told me so. Mama talked to them while she was carrying you in her tummy, you see.”

“Was she happy when she had me?”

The smile on your face never dims. “ Super happy,” you make sure to emphasise the first word.

“Were you happy?”

“The happiest big sister in the world.”

“I’m happy you’re my big sister, too!”

Your bottom lip wobbles, quickly hiding it by burying the toddler back into your arms. “You’re so cute, Tiny! Ah,” you sigh out, “I don’t ever want you to grow up; I want you to stay this little forever.” Your tiny dewdrop that you can carry in your arms forever, a place where she truly belongs and will remain untainted by the world revolving around you two.

“But I want to grow up!”

This surprises you. “Why, Tiny?”

She beams, “Because I get to be with you more! You’re always away with Papa and I’m all alone. If I’m grown up, I will be by your side more often.”

You give her a rueful smile. Your hand perfectly cups the side of her head as if both are puzzle pieces fitted with each other. “I can’t wait to see you in the future; but for now, I’ll cherish you like this. Because you want to know a little secret?” The smile on your face grows at the sparkles lighting up your baby sister’s eyes. They seem to gleam like jewels within a pool of moonlight. The hand cupping her face transfers to cover her ear, your voice dropping into a whisper purely for the two of you to hear—not even the flowers can be a witness to your little secret. “Nothing in this world truly belongs to me except my love for you, owner of my heart and my tiny dewdrop. You are the one gift Mother gave to me and I don’t know what I’d do if you slip from my fingers too soon. Let me love you as my baby sister and let Time pass by the way it always does. Alright?”

A sheen then covers your sister’s eyes as she stares at you in pure, adulterated emotions that a four-year-old like her can muster.

“I love you so much, Tiny—always remember that, okay?”

She meekly nods, your words flustering her cheeks in a faint surge of heat. “I love you, too, Onee-chan.”

It’s you two against the entire world. Despite how the circumstances bring you your sister, you will never love her any less. You may have familial burdens to carry on your poised shoulders, they don’t include the most precious treasure to you at the moment. 

The moment is shattered when the flowers slightly express their disappointment before you can sense the pattern of footsteps behind you.

“Ojou-sama, Lord Yoshiki is summoning you to his office,” Aida, a maid that you have grown quite fond of through the years, tells you, her head low like the head maid has taught her during her initiation—always show reverence to the members of the main family; they are your benefactor, your salvation, your puppeteers.

“Did he say why, Aida-san?” You pry from her, your arms still around the girl nestling on your lap.

The woman shakes her head. “No, Ojou-sama. But if it helps ease your mind, he is not in a troubled mood.” A knowing glint sparks her eyes as she trails them on the swaying vermillion blades dancing by her feet. 

“Very well,” is all you offer to her as a response. You turn to your baby sister, who is already pouting at the thought of spending the rest of her afternoon in solitude. “Tiny, I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” She is looking at you like she’s begging for you not to leave her alone and that alone nearly shatters your resolve. As the only child aware of the workings of the clan, you must attend to Father’s summons. Your sister will have this role in the future but for now, even with no shed of the Joushou’s cursed technique in your veins, you should do your duty. So, you carefully lift her from your lap before settling her feet on the grass. “I promise we’ll eat your favourites later.”

“And watch Sanrio?”

The smile on your face grows. Ah, your obsession with that cartoon and its characters; it’s purely the reason why your sister adores the white long-eared puppy as well. You, yourself have developed a liking toward the hooded bunny and the golden retriever characters. “And watch Sanrio,” you echo after her. 

“Yay!” She cheers, her hands high in the air and her smile bright enough to illuminate an abyss.

You let go of her small hands before turning around to face the maid sent to escort you to where Father is. “Take me to him, Aida.”

“As you wish, Ojou-sama.”

The walk is silent—you can even hear the grating of the wood against a sudden gust of wind, bringing the scent of cherry blossoms in the air.

Ah, it's spring without your mother again. 

You remember watching her work wonders in the gardens during this lucky season of the year. The pinks the entire world is waiting to sprout are sitting on top of Mother’s palms, the small spark of her cursed technique speaking with the roots and the trunks until all you can see are raining petals of cherry and plum blossoms. You never once looked forward to spring again after her passing. But there is an undeniable clench in your chest when you think about your baby sister never sharing the same enthusiasm about that season; she doesn’t get to press her face on the glass windows at her age every time spring knocks on your household’s door.

The scent of the flowers die down when the shoji doors to Father’s office slide open.

“You called for me, Father?”

The image of your father has long since dwindled. He was never the same again since the death of Mother. The elders have always expressed their bafflement at him refusing another proposal to be remarried. The clan needs male heirs, they say, one that can withstand even the next strongest sorcerer to be born. His previous impeccable appearance is replaced by a rugged man with the constant presence of stubbles and hastily tied hair. There are no elaborate kimonos; instead, he is often dressed in rather simple hakamas, but that doesn’t betray his station. He is still the head of the Joushou clan, the only clan to have ever survived the Domain Expansion of the recorded strongest sorcerer across centuries. 

Father doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “You are dismissed,” he directs the words to the maid who escorted you.

You flash Aida an imperceptible smile right after she bows her head as lowly as she can without toppling over. Her footsteps are silent and she leaves behind you and the man who will decide your fate.

“Who is it this time?” You still fix your eyes on the hardwood panels of the floor. 

The sigh that comes out of Father amounts to the weight he carries after reading the papers on his hand. He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he fishes out an unsealed piece of paper from a nearby stack and throws it on the table.

You walk to the edge of his desk to catch a glimpse of the sender. Something pulses inside you at the implications the letter’s seal brings. You know it’s inevitable to be tied to this family and you have long accepted it but that doesn’t prevent the trepidation clogging your throat. “The Zen’in?”

After you make it real by uttering the syllables of their name, Father pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows scrunched in an uneasy exhibition of pain. “I’m sure you remember that Zen’in Ougi’s wife died a few months before.” Your silence is an enough answer for Father to continue. The memory of attending the funeral is still fresh in your mind and there’s no mistaking the reeking disappointment coming from the clan elders of the Zen’in. Another wife gone; another chance for a holder of the Ten Shadows lost. “They want you as his second wife.” His fists clench on top of the papers.

You’re quiet for a moment. “Can I read it, Father?”

Father waves his hand.

The sound of crinkling paper fills the room. You flip the folded flaps of the letter. The tidy calligraphy starts by addressing your father. Your eyes skim over saccharine words crafted to impress him.

The letter opens with the head of the Zen’in clan iterating that this is the perfect opportunity for the Joushou clan to enter the inner circles of the jujutsu society.

It goes on by saying that if the Gojos never had that pesky godling born in the same year as your little sister, your clan would have made it within the triad of jujutsu families, even rivalling the authority established by the Kamos. Pity that the Gojo clan beat your family by a hairbreadth and pity that the inheritor of the Purification Technique is of the lowly sex. You take a glance at Father, knowing that this section of the letter is the reason behind the tick in his jaw. You continue on reading how the children from this union would be the leaders of the next generation of jujutsu. With the Glorified Womb and a carrier of the Ten Shadows Technique, it is bound to be fruitful—the most awaited heir of the Zen’in clan won’t just be a figment of someone’s imagination.

We hope this is met with utmost consideration. After all, this is the pinnacle we are both waiting for. Wed your bloomed flower to my youngest son and all will be well—you will be compensated handsomely. Everything you could think of, we will provide as long as they belong to our capabilities. Do not make the wrong decision, Joushou. The fate of your clan rests on your word. 

“This is not in my position to ask but,” you start, lifting your head from trailing your eyes over every well-crafted, harsh word the Zen’in sent, “Father, tell me you’re not going to consider this?” He doesn’t offer a response. He simply stares at a spot on his desk, his hands woven over his mouth. You hear your heartbeat in your ears as you place the letter on the furniture separating you from him. “Father.” The man goes on to blankly stare at you. At the silence, your voice gains volume. “He’s the same age as Uncle Hatsugu!” He stands up from his seat, lifting his chin in the air while you feel tears peeking through your bottom eyelids. At the stony facade he dons, you slowly shake your head. “Father, no. No, no, no!”

Father merely blinks. The previous tension weighing on his shoulders vanishes and in front you is the man who thought it was best to force your mother to bear the son he wanted. “[Name].”

“Please tell me you haven’t—”

“It’s the Zen’in.”

“But that doesn’t mean—!”

“You will have four years.”

Standing in this room with him becomes suffocating with each passing second. Marrying young has always been the culture in your hidden world. Women are a commodity. You hope that because Father was kind enough to tell you of each suitor sending their letters, he will also be kind enough to reject them until you have fully lived your life. “Please,” one word is all you can say. And if that isn’t enough for Father, you try to convince him with your eyes. Yet the more you look at him, all ready to kneel and plead to give back your girlhood, you gradually understand that you have no choice. Father looks like he’s seen a ghost within you. The shock morphs into rage, then, later calms into a quiet nothing that rings so loud your tears cascade on your cheeks. “I-I don’t want this, Father. The Zen’ins—”

“Are a respectful family that is worth leagues more than ours,” he finishes. “They stand as what orthodox should be in our world. This,” he taps his forefinger on the letter, “is just the beginning, [Name]. We are nearing the pinnacle of jujutsu in this generation and it starts with your marriage to this man.” You open your mouth to retaliate. He cuts you off from speaking with a hand. “You are someone born in my family. Do your duty just like any other woman before you.”

“Just listen to me—”

“Am I clear, [Name]?” Father fixes a wide-eyed glare at you. “You didn’t inherit your mother’s viability for heirmaking for nothing. This is your purpose. Whatever fantasies you have running in that head of yours, cease it. Do you understand?” 

You don’t answer him.

“[Name].”

Flinching at the way he says your name, you look down at your feet.

“Do not make me angry; we both know that it won’t end in your favour.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “I understand, Father.”

“Good.” Then, he waves you away. “Go. I have a letter to reply to.”

You don’t know where your feet take you. After the shoji doors slide shut behind you, you are floating. You see and hear nothing. When you lift your head from mindlessly tracing the ground you walk on, you are outside in the gardens, the little girl you left behind earlier still in the same place. She turns around at the sound of your footsteps but you don’t give her a chance to call you because you pull her into your arms. You can feel her pressing her cheeks against yours and it hurts. You bury your face in her hair, your embrace fully encompassing her from the world. The air smells of hellebore and amidst the lake of white and purple, a clump of begonia stands as a beacon.

Toji spits out blood on the blades of grass surrounding the Zen’in estate. Imposing eyes follow him from the visible hallways of the traditional Japanese household. He can already assume what they are whispering about— the black sheep of the family is at it again, disappearing in random hours of the day and coming back all bloody like he wants to taint our sacred home . Toji clicks his tongue at the thought and by doing so, irritating his split gums, which irritates him even more. He couldn’t care less. Let them talk, let them paint him into their version of a devil, let them say that he’s the curse of the family; to Hell with all of them.

He keeps on walking until he reaches the nearest entrance to his father’s wing, where his side of the family resides. The maids scurry away from his path and the only sound accompanying him to his destination is the jingle of charms dangling from his wallet. It’s jarring, how stark the various shades of pink and blue are against his dark garb. If he is one of the nosier women in the estate, he would have questioned it as well. The carved flowers make a nice melody with each step and they all sing something that’s purely her . Because that’s the reason why the hanging charms are in his pocket—they’re all for her , the precious doll of the Joushou clan and the belle of everyone’s ball, including his. Even as he let himself loose by facing a dozen curses in an abandoned hospital, he still managed to think of something so soft, a feat in itself that he never thought possible for someone like him.

It’s a miracle that nothing intercepted him. Usually, during his excursions, Jinichi would make himself known and throw remarks that would have the two of them grappling for the first punch. This time around, none of the notable people in his family lurks around the corner, waiting for their moment to strike. It’s peaceful for once and Toji doesn’t know how it makes him feel.

“You.”

A maid squeaks when Toji’s gaze falls on her.

“Where are the others?”

Her chest rises and falls rapidly. She can’t fully look him in the eye.

“I’m fucking talking to you,” comes from Toji’s mouth.

With a hitched breath, the maid answers, “They’re all gathering in the Master's office.”

“The old man is dying; what are they gathering there for?”

The maid grips the edges of her cheap uniform, creating creases that would surely earn her some nagging from the matron of housekeeping. Locking eyes with him is a mistake because she starts sweating even though this part of the estate hasn’t met any heaters in the last few months. Perks of being the most favourite disappointments. Toji carefully wraps his hand around the kanzashi nestled inside his pocket, the ornaments it carries caressing his skin. This is taking too long. Then, the maid stutters, “I-I heard they received a message regarding a marriage proposal.”

“Who?”

“I-I don’t know, Sir.”

Toji lets out a mirthless laugh. “It’s bitchy Ogi, isn’t it? Should’ve known.”

The maid keeps quiet with her head down. Without addressing her any further, Toji walks past her and makes his way to the main wing of the estate. 

Despite saying that he doesn’t care for the inner workings of their clan, he can’t help but feel amusement for another failed marriage to surface. After his newest aunt’s funeral, all anticipation and hope for the clan’s future has been sucked dry. Pity that these women are sent to this wretched family, hoping to at least be treated as royalty. All they got is the constant spiel that they are far beneath their husbands even though they share a last name through marriage. Toji’s mother was one of those women. And Heaven forbid, another tombstone will be added to the clan’s guarded cemetery with this letter.

With silent footsteps, Toji leaned on the wall next to the sliding doors of his grandfather’s office with his arms crossed on his chest.

“—Can’t tell me this is fucking fair!”

His father.

“You have not proven yourself worthy for this, Ichiro.”

The wheezing gives it away.

Booming laughter erupts from behind the closed doors, followed by a guzzling of a drink. “If only your wife died before giving birth to two failures, one of which is standing with us in this room also vying for this girl’s hand in marriage. Would you look at that, you two are almost twins sneering at me like that!” Another round of cackles from his alcoholic uncle. “You would have a chance with this girl who’s even younger than your sons! Ha! Just saying that makes me want to puke—”

“Not in here, Naobito,” a warning from Grandfather.

“—the contents of my stomach.

“Like Ogi is any better.”

“Do not bring me in your squabble,” says a calm, grating voice.

“I still believe this is something you have planned to dethrone me from my chance of being the heir. Are you that threatened by my son’s manifestation of cursed energy?”

Ogi scoffs. Toji imagines him lifting his chin in the air—the arrogant bastard. “It’s not my fault you are hindered by the existence of your precious child. Or do you regret ever siring him for a chance at a young girl? I’d say you are a hypocrite, brother.”

“Say that to my face, you little piece of shit!”

“Father, why not Jinichi?” Toji’s father tries pulling the tides in their favour. “They are close in age. My son developed a technique uniquely his, a promising one that would shake the other clans if he would inherit the position of heir. Why not give him this girl as a chance to redeem our bloodline? The future user of the Ten Shadows Technique will surely emerge from their coupling.”

“It is true that our family has established a hierarchy unlike the others,” the senile man coughs out, “but I would never waste something worth more than diamonds on your dying bloodline.” Toji can hear his father raising his voice while his older uncle cackles in glee. If only he’s not carrying treasure in the depths of his pockets, he would have bled through his pants with how tight he’d be clenching his hands. “Compared to Ogi, your son’s technique is nothing. My son has gained a reputation from the higher-ups of our world, a feat your son could only dream of. What Ogi can do will only be the catalyst in a fruitful union.” There is a pause. “And there is the case of your other child. What’s to say Jinichi is tainted by his younger brother? Don’t even make me begin on how that abomination always succeeds in being the family’s blunder. I have presented the letter for her hand in marriage with Ogi in mind and no one else. Do not make me exert my power over you, Ichiro, because you are nothing but a failure to me.”

“Father, you surely know how to knock down someone,” Naobito says in mirth.

Toji is still against the wall of the old man’s office. His hands are itching on pummeling something to the ground. Fucking elders and their ridiculous degrading words—they make him want to wring their necks and feed them to the curses they keep in the basement. Toji wants nothing more than to witness the light dim and eventually flicker out from this senile man’s eyes. Heat starts travelling all the way to the tips of his ears. Hearing everything urges his body to retreat in his room and wallow in self-pity. But anger gets the best of him, always. This fucking family and their superiority will be the death of them; he is already cursing them. They would ask for Heaven for what he is doing to them in his head. Then again, Hell would probably be Heaven for them for all the grotesque things they do behind closed doors. 

“Then, it’s final. Ogi will wed Joushou [Name] the moment she turns eighteen. This is the pinnacle of jujutsu and I expect nothing but congratulations from you pitiful fools.”

That is the moment Toji realised, he would take down the pinnacle of the jujutsu world.

Notes:

in the victorian language of flowers, hellebore can mean 'we can overcome scandal and slander'. when paired with begonias in a bouquet, it brings a reminder that future challenges will arise.

taglist (send an ask or a reply if you want to be added !! )

@booblikerlhc @sugutoad @sakuralikestars @fandomfloozy @the2ndl @silent-sondering @idktbhloley @ruixrei @m0nsterzl0ve @mooniro @kenstarsworld @bealiz13 @viclentdeliqhts @elisaa-shelby @oh1boy @wonderland173

#— rory's passages🌼 #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x you #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji zenin

[since64bce]

Hell Within Hell

Alastor-Radio Demon- x Sinner reader

Synopsis: Alastor has inhibited hell for years. He knows it's ins' and outs'. But when it comes to him, his coppery heart, and an unexpected new-found perspective on his assistant, a new hell is created for him as he tries to wrestle with the shiny new concept of love. Just a few short pieces of writing and some head cannons'. Nothin' fancy.

Word count: Don't know. Warnings: Alastor.

By gosh what a tragedy. What a wonderful, terrible tragedy. What a questionable, concerning tragedy. How lovely it is. How problematic. Did Shakespeare end up in hell for all the souls he stole in the theatre? I pray for him if that was ever the case. And not because his soul wandered into eternal damnation. Oh no, there's a fate much worse than that, and his name is Alastor.

When the heart becomes stale it also becomes a waste of space, a space that could be used for more lung capacity instead. Because of this reason, Alastor often had thoughts of compulsively ripping it right out, especially, strangely, and more so now that it was finally of use. If Shakespeare really was in hell, Alastor wanted to kill him. If he was a bug, he'd place the man beneath Nifty's blade. And if he was in Heaven- which would be unwarranted given all the hearts he's crushed- Alastor would find a way to drag him down into Hell to watch his tragic little heart suffer for eternity. Because it's his texts in which Alastor has stumbled upon. And it's from his texts in which Alastor has learnt about love and all it has to offer.

Alastor is a refrained lover, if you could call the demon a lover at all. At best he's okay at love, if thats what you wanted to call whatever the thing Alastor thinks "love" is.

Being an overlord, you'd think he was capable of anything.

Uhh lower your expectations sis.

Problem No.1 with Alastor (which was really hard to find) is that he's not really the lovey dovey type. Does he get passionate about certain things? Of course darling. But when was the last time it was about a lowly sinner like yourself? (Hear the crickets babe? Yea pretty much that).

However I feel like this is true only for a few years after he's met you.

I'd say it's a "You-fell-first-(but then lowkey realised it ain't never happening type thing so you stopped)-he-fell-harder-(and got confused so didn't pursue it for like six fuxking months)

Being an overlord you'd think he was capable of anything but in all honestly love confuses this sweet🍬, sweet🍭, neurotic👹 boy.

His heart is in tatters and moth eaten like some dusty old drape. Nobody's ever come into his life that mattered to him much before.

And when I say "mattered" it doesn't come under the "slightly useful to him but couldn't care less" umbrella either.

Like it's a genuine feeling of not wishing for somebody to just fucking up and leave his demonic little world.

It's as if you're just so convenient for him to be able to slot you into his crazy, batshit puzzle of a life. And you fit so perfectly and meticulously, and you make it look rather complete, that he just doesn't really feel he needs you gone.🙂🙃

And thats his very lopsided version of love that he hasn't created a full understanding around yet. But hopefully will... one day.💕

Why would someone like him like someone like you!?? 🤯😧

Oh please bitch Alastor in Alastor's world is a special, clever little princess, nobody can top him.

When he first laid eyes on you, you were just another darling sack of shit staying at the Hazbin sorry not sorry. (Boo me idc this is how your love story goes 😤)

You weren't special at all. In fact, to him you were just a normal bad sinner doing the normal bad sinner things. There was nothing alluring about you, there was not a single aura or attractive quirk or special little something on the inside nor the outside that made him love you. You were like a crusty little stray dog, period. Not even a cute one.

In fact not even your death story was cool you got like hit by a bus or something idfc but it was nothin striking babes

You weren't even that bad of a sinner tbh. You were just a lying cheating fu k that got hit by a bus before you could find Jesus and repent

Anyways then you have Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr.Alastor who can do funny shit with his shadows oh dear lord save me

So as I said before, you, my dear, had a little crush for him first. Or, more realistically, you caught the love bug. Because don't we all know how little Nifty loves her bugs (dead).

Yes, you hiccupped on your blushy, fluffy feelings because trying to find genuine love and care within Ali's cold little heart at the time would've been damn near impossible. Like being stuck in a maze within a maze within a stone wall that had no exit.

So, yes dear, a hard pill to swallow ik but you got there in the end .

Over the years following, you and Alastor became a nice little duo. Like an elegant doberman and it's small rat-dog companion (guess which ones which).

Everybody in the Hazbin hotel has their own little niche, whether it be porn-starring or bar tending.

Yours was running errands for Alastor.

In his eyes you were comparable to an assistant even though the title was never officially yours. And he didn't want it to be yours because the role of facilities manager was a one person job.

Besides you did other things than just hotel errands.

You were more like an assistant Alastor. And that suited the both of you just fine. To Alastor you were remarkably useful, to you Alastor was an interesting boss and a form of strange company you somehow enjoyed. His presence, albeit staticky, was charming. He was a hard one to shake off, that man.

And then he began noticing you. And not just in the general way. I mean thats how it all starts off doesn't it?

It starts with a moment.

His boring "normie" of a companion... charmed him in some way. He didn't know how.

It was after one of his avid radio broadcasts when he switched off the set and just sat there in the silent darkness illuminated by the controls. Not even his voice filled the air, which was a strange noise to behold. Oddly peaceful, huh.

And then it got him thinking about your voice and how it could come and disrupt his blissful, peaceful silence at any moment. Pestering him with something new, as the very un-special sound of it filled the room.

You did like to disrupt things.

You've had your fair share of moments you've disrupted.

With your normal voice.

Filling the room.

It got his cogs spinning as he thought about you so normal and dull and boring. But it seemed that he really did know quite a lot about you.

You were never a drug addict in the middle world, never any kind of addict, never any kind of slave to anything or anybody but the lies you told others. Admirable achievement in this crowd down here.

But still, what a boring Mary Sue.

Typical Mary Sue behaviour that you should also try and recover from your compulsive lying, and actually bother to make use of the facilities the Hazbin Hotel had to offer.

Charming. But petty.

Just today he had asked you about an errand you'd run, only to find out that you had lied about running it.

You were supposed to have given some bird food to the cuckoo in the cuckoo clock. It was a fools errand he had given you to make you go away for a second. But you had told him you had actually done it.

Until you admitted you lied.

Inside the broadcast tower, Alastor let out a quiet laugh. He didn't know why it was quiet, he was the only person in the tower, and even if he were with other people its not like he'd care.

But what was so funny?

He thought back to the conversation: "I don't know what you're talking about," you had told him. "I never fed the stupid clock." And then he said, "Oh dear, well thats quite contrary to what I was told before." And you said, "damnit" under your breath and walked away, annoyed at yourself for having broken your sobriety, going to go repent to Charlie for the fifth time that day.

Again, Al found himself smiling ever wider and trying to keep his steady flow of chuckles beneath his fingers. Soon he was hunched over, finding other stories about you drifting to his head.

Unbeknownst to him, the layer of ice on his heart was slowly beginning to melt in the section that he reserved for you.

He realised you were such a funny fickle little thing, he realised he was quite fond of you as his assistant. It made no sense. And after the laughter was over something else took over.

A sense of something between fiery anger and grief contaminated his pores. He realised he had let you into his heart. He tried to quickly freeze it over again, however, it was too late, it seemed you had already brushed its surface.

The next day when you two were busying yourselves with errands, you came across each other in a hallway.

There was something off about his face on this particular day. Because when you looked at his face which was watching over your face, you never found his signature smile. For once you saw his lips relaxed. For once you saw his elusive eyes really looking at you like nobodies ever looked at you before.

And then he walked right past like nothing happened. However something had happened. Something incredibly unexpected and wrong. Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr. Alastor had found someone who mattered.

Boring, normie, lacklustre, lukewarm, little. Old. You.

It's a quiet day at the Hazbin Hotel. But it's always a quiet day isn't it? Hell is rock bottom, and once you hit rock bottom, well, what's the point in not wandering around for a bit?

You were only here because Charlie picked you up before the Sinners mentality could reach you.

At the same time, you were also only here because of Alastor.

Alastor, the lean, lanky overlord which you couldn't help but like somewhat. Cold and calculating despite the warm colours he wore. charming and pleasant despite his scary appeal. He was one reason why you enjoyed your stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

But he was also one reason why you hated it.

Lately anyway.

You've tried to bring it up with him but he simply won't listen. He doesn't even laugh anymore he just grimaces. It's been two whole months since he last smiled at you and you feel as though your beginning to get withdrawals- as sappy as that sounds. But it's true. As funny as it is to say, hell seems less pleasant, and even the Hazbin, despite Miss Morningstar's lovely presence, is falling short of joy and dunking deeper into the gloomy reality that is damnation.

They say that reality is just your perception. However, why has your perception been so fragmented by just a absence of a single smile?

Oh but you knew didn't you? You still loved him.

You thought you were past it but you weren't. You're such a brilliant liar that you can even trick yourself into believing things that aren't true. How remarkable. How depressing.

Ugh.

He's probably finally gotten bored of you. In fact, you've probably bored him into some kind of chronic depression that triggers every time he see's your boring, depressing face. Double ugh. And now you can't stand to look in the mirror. Sometimes you lay awake at night wondering what you've done to him and if it's you that's broken his perfect smile or something else. But everything he does points at you, and with this ridiculous jacket of blame on your shoulders you don't know how to look in his eyes anymore without feeling humiliated.

Oh and now he's behind you, watching you sit beneath the stupid cuckoo clock with a pile of birdseed in your palm. Humiliating? No something worse than that. You must look ridiculous. Desperate. Ridiculously desperate.

'Well, I feel it's too late now don't you? That ridiculous lie is still a lie, also the bird isn't real if you didn't get the memo,' taunted the inevitably superficial voice of the radio host. You could feel him behind you but you couldn't see him. The mans presence was very strong, a quirk, perhaps, that came with being an overlord. Although at times you could hardly tell when he'd enter a room at all. 'Now, why are you sitting, staring at the wall like a dummy? Did dear Charlie put you in time out for being a liar?'

'Fuck you, Alastor,' you huffed, 'you know I'm working on it.'

'Not making much progress I see.'

You could hear his non-smile in his voice. You didn't even turn around, you didn't have to, plus, you didn't want to.

'After you're finished working out your lying problem, perhaps you should focus on your swearing problem,' he said. You could hear the ruffling of Al's suit as he presumably crouched down, and then the cold lick of his breath as he got close to your ear. 'It's not so classy, my dear, for someone like you to have such a foul mouth.'

'Fuck- I know- just fuck off!'

You heard Alastor tut behind you, sighing disapprovingly.

You turned and looked him in the eyes. They looked bemused, however, his mouth told you a different story. He looked slightly chilling without that smile of his. Perhaps that was another reason for your sleeping troubles lately. 'Go ahead and do it you creep, kill me, I know ya wanna,' you declared, he cocked his head to the side, terrifyingly interested in your proposition. You had to resist the urge to swallow. 'Also now I've seen you without a smile I think I've seen it all, kill me I'm ready.'

You were half joking, but you still watched Alastor out of the corner of your eye, a habit you had developed.

'No.'

'That's not like you, Alastor.'

'What can I say? I am a man of many surprises. And you're far too valuable to me to kill you, assistant.' He added the last part in slowly, watching you like a hawk.

And then you saw it.

The faintest glimmer of tooth.

The littlest crease beside his lip.

And did he just call you valuable? A compliment from Alastor? Kill me now, you thought, it wasn't gonna get much better than this. And then Alastor's distinct vocals piped up again, 'ha ha! You look dumbfounded, sweetheart. Is there something I can help you with?'

His smile disappeared. And so did that feeling of hope in your stomach, leaving you empty again, and so you said, 'what do you even want Alastor? why'd you come find me? You're just toying with me now.'

'I'm afraid I toy with everyone, assistant.'

You felt him watching you as you crossed the room and put the birdseed in the bin, you felt him watching you as you dusted off your hands and made your way to the door.

'Smile,' you ordered. One final attempt.

Once again he cocked his head, raising his eyebrows, no expression in the mouth and whatever expression was in the eyes seemed to be told in another language. 'And what do I get if I do that for you?'

'My smile.'

-

Alastor has been a mess lately.

A clean mess no doubt. But he's been walking around half naked for months, alas, he can't bring himself to smile, which was more like a piece for clothing for him now more than anything. It got to the point where the Radio Demon thought that it had finally lost it's sincerity and emotion. But clearly not, as it's absence has been due to nothing but sincerity and emotion, two things which Alastor had never really exercised. Two things which were out of his hands.

And it's been ever since he found you wandering the hellish plains of his mind.

Yes, he was the skeleton in the closet, the monster beneath the bed, the not-your-typical-spooky-guy. But maybe he's finally found a weakness, and that thought slapped his smile right off his face.

And his assistant was all to blame.

You were all to blame.

He found his hands shaking as he looked at you, he carefully analysed that angry look about you as you stood rigidly at the door. There was nothing threatening about you, your face wasn't scary like his was, however he found himself mildly irritated by your defiances' today, mildly saddened at your obvious depression, and mildly livid that he couldn't get you off his mind.

So no, he wasn't threatened, you just mildly made him want to pull his hair out.

'Smile.'

'And what do I get if I do that for you?'

'My smile.'

Your smile? And what was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to rip your mouth off and take your smile for his own? He looked at you, he looked at your lips, imagined touching them, imagining slicing them off you as your blood spilled and you screamed. And then he found himself putting the thought down, finding that he didn't really want that thought. How strange. Your smile wouldn't suit his face anyway, it looks much sweeter on you.

'If you smile at me I'll smile at you back,' you clarified, still with that rather hostile look in your eyes. You didn't really look in the smiling mood darling.

But it gave Alastor pause for thought.

Oh. So that's what you meant. Interesting. An equal exchange.

Al brought the memory of your smile up in his mind. It was pleasant enough. Charming enough... Oh who was he kidding? Sometimes he wished you could tell him the lies he told himself so he'd believe them better.

Your smile. It was sweet and dainty and lovely, and there was not a night that had passed in which he hadn't thought about it in some fleeting way.

Squeezing, hurting, reaching. He wanted to rip his heart out right then and there as he looked at you glaring at him from the doorframe.

And that's when he walked right up to you without warning. You barely had time to back away. And he took in your wonderful face with all of your wonderful features, from the lovely curve of your nose, to the shape of your very skull, to the fat of your cheeks to the pigment of your skin (which had turned wonderfully rosy beneath his fingers).

And then he took in your smile.

And he realised he was smiling too.

And he was so angry with himself, and irritated at you for making him feel this way. And so he leaned in and carefully placed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. Wanting to do it again and again and again but worried that he could smudge away the perfection that was you.

In the end he just grinned at you.

...

And then walked away like nothing happened.

...

A/N- Ik the tiny one shot at the end is shit but it's like 1 am and I have school tomorrow, I've watched like 4 episodes and I don't even know who tf Lucifer is yet so don't even come at me bitchens 🖕🥷

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #vivienne medrano #radio demon x you #radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor oneshot #alastor headcanons #radio demon

[ozarkthedog]

Hi Ozzie!! Congrats on 11k ❤️

Can I request 📝 & public no. 6 (a quickie in a diner restroom before getting back on the road), with Dieter?? 🥰

thank you so much, Gideon! idk what happened but i took this and ran. hope you love this, my dude!

18+ mdni. dieter bravo x f!reader. sex in a public bathroom. w.c. 783

Ozzie’s 11k birthday sleepover

It was supposed to be a quick stop: fuel up, grab a bite, and get back on the road. However, you knew to expect a blip in your plans when Dieter was your co-pilot. 

Today, though, the blip turned into 35 minutes behind schedule because someone wanted to play an old arcade game the owners had set up in the back of the small diner. 

You let Dieter have his fun while you drank your coffee and went over your route once more. He looked so cute playing the arcade game in his long, green robe. You never could part that man from his robe. "I like to be comfy at all times," you recall him saying when he sunk into the passenger seat at the beginning of your trip. 

When you couldn't waste any more time, you gave him a '5 more minutes' signal as you made your way to the bathroom.

The bathroom was what you expect in a local diner. Small but relatively clean, thankfully. As you finish washing your hands, Dieter frantically knocks on the door.

"Let me in," he whines.

He's already turning the knob as you unlock it. He shuts the door quickly and slithers into the tiny space. Your ass bumps into the sink as you make room for the broad man.

"What's wrong?" you ask, worry framing your words.

"Nothing. Just missed you." he smiles, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Dieter! You can't worry me like that." you chastised, poking his chest.

He plasters his thick body against your own, pushing you further into the porcelain sink. "Sorry, love. I just thought we could have a quick fuck before we got back in the car." he muses, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You roll your eyes, but they stop mid-way when he rubs his large bulge over your belly. "Shit, D." you look at the door and then back to those wild, wanting eyes. 

He wraps his arms around your waist and tips his head, looking at you under his lashes. "You know how quick I can be."

You huff with a laugh. "Okay, Mr. Quickie. Let's go," you happily prompt.

"Oh, that means you're Mrs. Quickie! " he muses, laughing until his cheer is struck down. His eyes zero in on your lower half as you hike up your skirt and tug your panties to the side.

"Well, what are you waiting for." you dare, propping your leg on the window sill and wrapping your hands around his neck for support.

Dieter goes a bit dumb when you and sex are involved. He usually relies on you to tell him what to do. The second you snap your command, he shoves his sleep pants down to his knees and takes his cock in his hand. 

He teases your already slick opening with his throbbing crown before slowly pushing into your searing core. He doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt, and his girthy base nudges your clit. He bites the side of his cheek, wantonly moaning into the small space as your walls stretch around him. 

Your "magic pussy" as he likes to call it, is already working, teasing and tempting him to fill you up.

"Best be quiet, D. We don't need anyone interrupting us," you say, combing your fingers through his hair and slightly tugging.

A whimper bubbles up from his throat. You press a single finger to his pouted lips before branding him with a kiss. He sets a steady pace, angling his hips just right and grazing all those sensitive spots he knows that get you off the fastest.

His bulbous crown notches something profound and devastating, forcing your arousal to rise steadily until you're drowning in the salacious rapture. His brow pinches tight, furrowing with a heavy need to stave off his own pleasure until he feels you come on his cock.  

His bottom lip trembles. With a silent command, you thumb at the plush cushion and plummet off the edge together, holding one another's gaze. Hushed whimpers and labored breathing fill the room as you melt into one. 

You exit the bathroom first, praying that no one will notice Dieter leaving the tiny bathroom a few moments after you. You keep your eyes locked on the floor as you make a beeline for the main entry, casually looking over your shoulder to ensure Dieter is tailing you. 

He curls a weighty arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his side as you push through the glass doors and walk out to your car together. 

"You know we're gonna have to make this a road trip ritual now, right?" he grins.

Ozzie’s 11k birthday sleepover

#ozzie 11k birthday #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal

[hobiebrownismygod]

Have an angsty snippet of my Hobie Brown x Reader fanfiction lol

This is what I headcanon his backstory is something like

TW: Blood, grief, death, very minor fluff, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day (not really a trigger but whatever), Hobie's lines are bolded btw

A/N I KNOW GREEN DAY DIDN'T EXIST IN HOBIE'S TIME BUT I LOVE THIS SONG SO LET ME HAVE MY FUN 😭

~2k words

___________________

"Aww Hobes, what are you doing?"

A 9 year-old Hobie Brown looked up at his big brother, his stubby little fingers still attached the chords of the older boy's new guitar. "I'm just looking!" he replied with a cheeky grin, holding the guitar back when his brother tried to grab it.

"Oi, give it back you prick!" The boy laughed, trying to snatch it again. Hobie danced away giggling, holding the guitar over his head. "Come and get-HEY!" The older boy tackled Hobie to the floor and pried the guitar out of his hands, holding it back out of his reach. 

"ABEEE!!" Hobie whined, his arms folded tightly over his chest. "Give it back!"

"You stole it first!" Abe giggled, 

"You're a jerk!"

"Who taught you that word?" Abe asked, wagging his finger at his little brother teasingly. "You're too little to be using mean words like that."

Hobie groaned, turning away from his brother and huffing. After a moment, the older boy sighed and crouched down behind his brother. "Ya want me to show you a couple chords?"

Hobie's face lit up. "Yea!"

Ten minutes later, he was all bundled up in his brother's arms while  he showed him the different  strings. "Alright this one's A." Abe put three fingers on the guitar and strummed it. Hobie nodded along, the side of his head on his brother's chest.

"And this one's A7. This one's A minor, this one's B minor, and this one's B7"

"I can't remember all those!" Hobie groaned.

"Alright, alright!" his brother said with a laugh. "How about I play you a song instead?"

"Okay." Hobie pulled out of his brothers arms to sit back against the old, broken down couch, a smile on his face as he waited for his brother to begin.

The older boy smiled at his little brother, pulling his hair back before resetting the guitar in his lap, fingers pressed against the chords.

He began playing. It wasn't the original song, more of a quiet, sadder, solo version. Hobie closed his eyes with a grin, taking a deep breath in. Even if it wasn't the real deal, he loved listening to his brother sing. His warm voice, the sound of the strums...it made him feel safe.

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me, and I walk alone~

His brother hummed to the music, tapping his foot to the ground to follow the beat. Hobie followed, moving his head side to side with every tap, his fingers fidgeting together as he smiled up at Abe.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~

Abe was really all he had left. He used to have a lot of siblings, two sisters and one brother other than Abe. He was the youngest of the five and of course, the rowdiest. His parents had been pretty cool too, his dad worked at a radio station and his mom had been a stay-at-home mom.

I walk alone, I walk alone

I walk alone, I walk alone

His youngest sister had gone first. She was only a year older than Hobie, but she had been less than five pounds as a baby and always had problems with sickness and diseases. After the water had been contaminated by another one of Oscorp's toxic waste dumps...well she had been the first to go. Her and children from nearly every family in the neighborhood.

My shadow's the only one who walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Til then, I walk alone~

Then went his mother. She was so grief-stricken by his sister's death that she went into depression. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep, and eventually the water got to her too. They were buried only a few months apart.

I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the borderline

Of the edge, and where I walk alone

His middle brother, three years older than him, went into a rage about the water. He was young, but old enough to do something about it. He went to the station and when they didn't do anything, he made a fuss. He wrote letters to the city board, protested in front of stations and then one day, they took him to jail. He was beat to death two days later, just a few hours before his bail was accepted.

Read between the lines

What's fucked up, and everything's alright

Check my vital signs

To know I'm still alive, and I walk alone

Eventually, the water was fixed. It became, not the cleanest, but better. Babies stopped dying. People were surviving. 

Then the riots started.

People were angry. Everyone hated the police, the officers that patrolled the streets everyday yet did nothing to stop everyday crime. Fights would break out, shots would be fired, and eventually his sister, his oldest sister, got caught in the crossfire.

Someone had stolen her school bag. She asked the police officer nearby if he'd seen who'd taken it. She'd had her hands in her pockets.

He thought she had a gun.

He shot her.

And then there were three.

I walk alone, I walk alone

I walk alone, I walk alone

His father didn't let anything stop him. After his sister's death, he started using his job to make a difference. He spoke out about Osborne on the radio every day. He rallied people together, he told them not to take what was going on in the community.

And then Osborne himself came after him.

He took down his radio station, burnt it to the ground, and threw his father into jail. The poor old man couldn't stand it. He'd lost his wife, most of his kids...the stress was too much. Within months, he'd died too.

It was just Hobie and his brother left.

Him and Abe against the world.

My shadow's the only one who walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Til then, I walk alone~

Abe did a lot to take care of him. He sold their old, rackety house for a tiny apartment. He worked odd jobs day and night, trying to provide for Hobie. Instead of taking the risk of sending him to school, Abe taught Hobie at home. Especially math and science, something both of the boys shared a love for.

They grew close. Hobie loved his older brother, more than anything in the world. He looked up to him.

He wanted to be like him.

So of course, when his brother started pasting up punk posters next to the couch, bringing home crazy-looking albums and sporting spiked jackets, Hobie couldn't help but want to follow in his footsteps. 

Even now, while he stared at his brother in such adoration, bundled up in blankets, half-asleep while Abe sang, he wanted to be like him. Tall, strong, always looking forward. A rock. A steady, strong, beautiful rock.

That's what he wanted to be.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~

Abe finished, setting the guitar down with a sigh, gaze meeting his little brother's again. "How was that? I've improved, haven't I?"

Hobie practically jumped into his brother's arms to give him a hug. "Can you sing it again?" He asked tentatively, picking up the guitar.

"Aww, Hobes! I'm not doing that all again!" Abe said, shaking his head with a laugh. When he saw his brother's pleading expression though, he rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Fine. Ya little brat." He pushed Hobie off playfully before pulling up the guitar again and grinning a toothy grin.

_________________

10.5 years later

_________________

Hobie woke up with a gasp, sitting up straight. His face was wet, cheeks tearstained. What was that?

Abe...he'd completely forgotten about that memory. Hearing his favorite song for the first time. He held his chest tightly, taking deep, shaky breaths. Where was he?

Knocked out in an alleyway...he barely remembered what'd happened. The last thing he could remember was slamming into the wall, falling to the ground, and completely knocking out.

Except...something else had happened. It was only then when Hobie noticed his suit, which was newly black, with white lines. His jacket had disappeared, and the spikes that had used to be a part of it were attached to his suit instead. He pulled at his mask...but it wouldn't come off. It was stuck.

Shit.

He felt completely disoriented, that dream-no memory, had thrown him off. Of all the times he could've recalled that, it had to be now. Of all the times...

He missed his brother. When he reached his hand up to feel his mask, he felt it was wet. He'd been crying. But he'd also been knocked out.

What the hell?

It had to be the Venom. It was talking to him again...changing him. He couldn't let it take over again. He had to stay strong. Not just for himself, but for you.

He had to be strong.

Just like Abe had been.

_____________________

Full Fanfiction being written here:

#lol felt like crying today #atsv #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spiderman atsv #spiderman #beyond the spiderverse #atsv hobie #across the spider verse #hobie my love #hobie #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x female reader #astv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie brown headcanons #hobie spiderverse #spiderverse hobie #spider punk #angst #tw blood #tw death #tw violence

[eyluvu]

Listening to fix you and SOBBING. thanks tom hiddleston😭😭

#“if you never try you'll never know just what you're worth” #“when you lose something you can't replace” #“when you love someone but it goes to waste” #“high up above or down below- when you're too in love to let it go- but if you never try you'll never know- JUST WHAT YOURE WORTH.” #“and I will try to fix you.” #MY HESRT #lokius #loki #loki x mobius #mobius m mobius #loki season 2 #mobius #loki series #tom hiddleston #owen wilson #fix you #coldplay #i always loved this song and now its even better #even though it feels like my heart is being wrenched out

[hansoeii]

let time pass.

#and the tears come streaming down your face #when you lose something you can't replace #when you love someone but it goes to waste #could it be worse? #Light will guide you home and ignite your bones #and I will try to fix you #thank you tom hiddleston for making fix you the lokius anthem #I'm still in mourning over the loki finale and I had to make something to make myself feel a little better #I hope this can help you a little too #or make it worse #haha #wanted to try something new #loki #lokius #lokius fanart #loki fanart #loki and mobius #loki season 2 #loki season 2 fanart #loki mobius #loki laufeyson #loki god of stories #mobius m. mobius #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #my art #fanart #digital art #lokius comic #loki comic

[taegularities]

some men are textbook villains fr

#tw religion? #kinda need to rant.. kinda wanna explain what's going on #some ppl are part of humanity but don't know how to be humane... like the guy i started talking to almost 2 weeks ago #liked him a lot bc he was funny sickeningly sweet mature and understanding.. until he was not #tl dr version is that we somehow drifted to the topic religion and i told him im not too religious and don't believe in superstition much #i was extremely respectful and even when he said that he does believe a lot i was like 'thats cool!! different people believe in different #things!!' and at first it was a normal convo until man went all psycho on me (after one damn week!!!) and started talking about how #id have to be religious in a relationship with him.. my dude i barely know your fav food can we not talk about relationships yet #but he says he doesn't even need a woman who cooks/cleans just someone who believes.. n im like i get it but i can't change myself like that #and then guy moves to marriage and is all 'well my entire family is religious' n my mom and sister (who's 16) would be putting pressure on #you n force you to pray etc.. and I'm like???? who can force anyone to a thing like that are u kidding #things escalate and my absolute STUPID ass tells him about my deepest fkn trauma to explain what made me abandon religion bc #life just never got better and this trauma remained for yrs... and he gets so angry that he says he wants to stop talking to me just to spam #me all day next day.. he'd keep messaging me switching between 'i still want you we shouldn't throw this away i have feelings for you' #AFTER A WEEEEEEKKKK!!! and then goes back to 'i wasted my time with you you were so unnecessary im in a bad mood bc of you' #even said 'you'll never find a guy with a trauma and mindset like this. i will find a religious girl but no one will love you like that' #and the worst thing is that he told his friends and mom about the trauma i had just to spite me.. note that he promised to never tell anyone #(and then still asked for forgiveness and for me to rethink whether we want to end this after telling me 473626x he wanted to end it) #(nothing even ever started you bitchass) #also note that his mom knows my mom n basically most of my relatives.. so i was here trembling for days fearing they'd get to know about it #mom somehow convinced her to not tell anyone bc it's important to me and very very fucking personal.. #but he harassed me all day - i wouldn't answer and he'd send 55 messages.. multiple missed calls like dude i got so fkn scared #my heart jumped whenever he texted he was so fkn aggressive and SO MEAN #'you just needed to adjust and we would've been okay' 'tell me are u gonna fkn be religious or not????' 'you ruined everything' kinda mean #i just :') it was the worst time and i don't think i've ever seen someone degrade me so much or make me feel this defective #but.. it's finally over. his mom called my mom and mine was like pls teach him some manners.. n since i couldn't and wouldn't text him back #and literally avoided whatsapp bc of him she ended it all for me and now it's hopefully done forever #anyway i saw jks gcf performance yday n him singing still with you put a genuine smile on my face.. ill stick to THAT boyfriend honestly lol #def gonna delete later #but ty for reading if u did <3

[swordmaid]

am getting a lot of character inspo for shri’iia from amy gone girl. I don’t think she’s as smart nor calculated but she is similar to some degree in that she’s hyper aware of the current persona she’s presenting and how she’s appealing to the people. the masks and the mjndgames, that’s basically how shri’iia operated while she was still serving under her matriarch in menzoberranzan. she needed to play the roles the matriarch required of her and it was only when she was with her matriarch that she can be ‘Real Shri’iia’, and that’s how I imagined shri’iia to be esp in act 1 when she is so new and scared in the surface. she needed to work out who these people are (her companions) and what they liked, so her first persona - her blank one - the charming helpful paladin who got tadpoled and wants to go back home just like the rest of them (which was half true). she didn’t really argue and she generally agreed to what the group wanted. she was helpful and co-operative, ask her about her past and she will tell you something bland and generic- interesting enough to be ooh-ing about but not too interesting that they’ll delve deeper into it. then, when she got to know them a little more, she started crafting little personas adjacent to her first one ; she’s the girl who’s curious about magic but never had the chance to learn with gale, she’s a cool girl who likes mischief as debauchery with astarion, she’s the one who likes to take risks and live in the moment with karlach, the knight in silver armor who’s willing to help the tieflings with wyll, a disciplined fighter with lae’zel, someone who understands the depths of devotion with shadowheart - but none are really her, not really. ofc her own personality might slip in here and there but for the most part she’s appealing to them and what they’d like her to be but none of it is really genuine. shri’iia just needs to be on their good side to minimise the chances of them turning on her, and if they let her guard down it’ll be easier for her to get rid of them should the need arise. taking up all these different masks, collecting all these intel abt them to be used for later, slithering and making a place in their minds - it’s really how she operated back in menzoberranzan. I think the only one who catches on to her game is astarion but that’s bc he’s doing the same thing too, so it’s very game recognises game lmfao

it’s only when she breaks her oath and goes through her existential crisis that all of her masks drop and her real self comes out. she was never that kind of person lmfao ^, she’s greedy, selfish, paranoid and rather obsessive. she doesn’t care about a lot of things that doesn’t concern her, she has a cruel streak that she hasn’t shown before, and she hates doing anything that won’t really benefit her. but she’s fiercely loyal to anyone she likes, like a dog. and severely she craves validation and approval - also like a dog.

#like if shri’iia was smarter and wiser it’s really over for you hoes 😔 but she’s not lol #the matriarch also taught her how to deceive so she had good training lool like that’s coming from the master liar herself #and in game Shri’iia’s deception is p high so it tracks 👯‍♀️ #but anyway I finished reading gone girl and shri’iia would’ve turned out like amy in her vengeance ending #I think if her paranoia consumed her and an outside figure validated her way of faking herself #and generally moulded her back to being that overly obsessive paladin who lives to serve - which is what her matriarch made her to be #but obv she can’t be that girl in the surface .. they can’t know abt the Lolth worship! they’ll kill her! so she makes a new one … a #completely different one that’s so detached from her previous self … someone new and charming and fun and harmless and the kind of person #you’ll feel safe around and happy to travel with. she is that girl! and more! and she’s down for anything! and she loves to help! #but she forgets the goddess she worships is fickle and vengeful and proud so her favor drops and suddenly her real self is left #with nothing .. so she doesn’t know what to do anymore … she doesn’t know if she should keep up this fake one I mean what’s the point does #she even have it in her anymore?? how can she go back home when they don’t want you back #like who is SHE without lolth even … bc the girl that she has been playing is nothing but a blank image #and that’s NOT her .. never been her… so shri’iia is left bewildered confused and even more scared #like what do you do if you’ve been left behind in this new world?? and the purpose of your existence doesn’t want you anymore but the #thing is she knows where she went wrong.. but she didn’t have a choice - or did she?? shri’iia doesn’t know .. she’s not a planner #you don’t need to plan when your matriarch does all the thinking for you and you just do what ur told bc there is nothing better than to #serve and fulfill your oath …!!! so she ends up getting wasted in a party with the people she didn’t even care to save lmfao #and then she gets drunk and ends up fucking this one guy just bc she asked and she’s already hit rock bottom #lolth always says fuck elves anyway so she goes off and do just that 🤷‍♀️ #shut up abt bg3.

[layzeal]

woke up to like. a huge post on my dash three times in a row purposely misunderstanding and twisting the book's words to say that something that's canon is not actually canon and not gonna lie friends that's a bit upsetting

#like i'm a wwx stan who constantly takes the stance that wex did bad fucked up shit. abd that's good. that's INTERESTING #enjoying a character who does messed up things is sexy and i love it #so what's the point of trying to remove them??? make them boring? #and i especially draw the line at taking separate sections of the book and purposely misunderstanding them #breaking like for line to draw a conclusion that just doesn't compute when taken within the whole context #i'm considering whether or not i respond to it. i don't touch jc discourse with a ten foot pole #because i like him a lot but i stg it seems that whether you love him or hate him everyone likes twisting the words #to either make him better or worse #and that's where it goes ''eh whatever idc'' to ''oh. oh no. oh nooooo'' #like. lmao the reason i don't go into the 'c@non j1ang cheng' tag is because it's literally people doing this over and over #to waste energy condemning a man that literally doesn't exist #so can we not do it to defend him either :( can't we just like a guy because of his fuckedupness and not defile a text's words for it #that's literally where i draw the line on this. ... #like. sorry guys but 敲打 literally just means ''to beat someone'' #it's something jc himself confirms to us. he's not ashamed of it!!! the novel's message isn't ''all hearsay is wrong'' #it is ''it has to be investigated with nuance and not believed until confirmed'' #which jc himself confirms to us 😭 let a man torture people in peace it's fineeee #modao #lace speaks

[fiddlepickdouglas]

.

#warning this is just dark depressing shit i have on my mind and i need to just scream it somewhere #i genuinely need help. i need someone professional to help unravel the shit that's running through my brain right now #it is not good that i keep imagining harming myself just to get into a fucking hospital to get things addressed #it isn't serious yet but it's getting more frequent and im really scared of what i will pick when it gets worse #im barely functioning as a human and i don't currently have the resources to help me develop better habits #i don't have a support system irl. when you drop the religion your family raised you in- #-and your friends all live 1000s of miles away it's real fucking lonely #the list of things to address with a doctor is so fucking long and i cannot afford that visit #i only work one part time job and im too stressed to do more than that how the fuck will i ever afford anything #things are so fucked rn im constantly in pain and i keep not eating enough and then my food goes bad and it's such a waste #trying to plan anything scares the shit out of me. genuinely don't know why i make plans anymore #i can't even create or keep promises about the things i said i would create and it feels so purposeless #it's like the only kind of happiness i can get is all just diving into fandom and acting like im so funny #like yeah im hilarious huh for enjoying this shit and being so loud on the on site i ever use #and then i fucking hide from the real world because i can't take an ounce of negativity or i will have a nervous breakdown #i want to be known and loved but god at what cost i do not have the sanity to open up like that #i want to be held and have someone check on ME for once. have someone be kind to me for once. #instead of swallowing everything because im so afraid of being hated instead #i shouldn't even be afraid of being hated but damn if my trauma didn't rear its ugly head #and remind me that the people who should have cared the most didn't give enough of a shit to try #and make me wanna die about it #i need to get out of this fucking room but god it's so hard to make my body move #when it's so easy to just lie here watch reruns of whatever proves im not worth a damn #my room is a mess and i was gonna do laundry and i was going to run errands today #but no apparently any time i have off work is dedicated to either distracting myself with blorbos #or wallowing in my miserable shit #and you bet it feels fucking pathetic. like i should know better. i should be better. im not. #im no good honestly. i can't even let myself scream or cry loud enough so that the roommate i don't talk to will be concerned. #why bug him when we've established being chill and knowing nothing whatsoever about each other #i can't be someone else's burden again. being a burden is what fucking kills me.

[mejomonster]

I'm torn between liking anyone on a dating app even remotely mildly compatible for at the minimum a shallow friendship

Or being more realistic and only actually liking people I'd genuinely want to get to know romantically potentially

#rant #further complicated by the fact my brain is both Great at reading signs i am NOT compatible #and also great at making up reasons im not compatible when in fact i might be. #like... okay. see someone with zero in common and only mildly values in common? realistically im never going to want them romantically #realistically to like them and chat is procrastinating Real dating options. realistically its wasting everyones time. #but my brain will be like: wrll maybe they COULD be a friend and introduce me to someonr else id actually crush on. #vice versa? my brain sees someone i actually find mildly cute and with at least somrthing in common. and then goes #well they said short term/casual telationships. or theyre very skinny. they love going to bars which ur too sick to do. #i just dont think theyll want to date you given so many other Much More Compatible people for them. so you shouldnt even waste their time #and message them. #(and to be fair to me? the only cute ppl ive seen to Me in a year on dating apps have been poly partnered ppl #cause thats who the apps for some fucking reason match with me #and i just want someone to Like Me Back. prioritize maintaining a relationship with me if they like me. #since ive dated basically All people who used me as a placeholder until they found an actual crush to date. #so while a poly partnered person could in theory love me and prioritize me too? id rather not start #a new relationship with someonr whete i know them 2 months and if somrones getting dumped its going to be me #and not their married 5 years partner they have a home with. id rather just date a single person #who is on the same footing going into a new relationship. #so :/

[plaguerare]

not to be emo or whatever but. fix you by coldplay for basically all of the deities

#murmur #originally i was thinking of just iceda but like... it can fit all of them p much #when you try your best but you don't succeed........ #when you get what you want but not what you need........................ #WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE BUT IT GOES TO WASTE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #(read; 'waste' with heavy quotations but they don't kno that) #COULD! IT! BE! WORSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #nvm i AM being emo about this i've changed my mind

[gloxk]

Please give us sum eren & armin toxic hc Like armin and eren would be two different types of toxic. Ex!boyfriend eren blowing ur back out n sending it to ur bf or whoever ur talking to n ex!boyfriend armin not being able to take you talking to someone else so he fucks you a party or smth idk go crazy. 🤰🏾.

“Yeah my ex is crazy.”

A/N: No bc they are two completely different types of toxic. Like idk how to explain it? I js feel like eren is the type of ex to be petty and trifling. But armin..omg..armin goes off the fucking deep end. But i love my lil psychos🤭.

WARNING!: A lil fluff , toxic behavior, unhealthy relationships, smut, unprotected s*x, Blackmailing, Mentions of offing someone, obsession, controlling, plus other things . +17 mdni

EREN! Please for the love of god don’t let Eren find out you fucking with someone else. This man will go from nonchalant to crazy. “Oh word? This what we doing?”. He disregards the fact yall broke up a whole month ago.

He would definitely blow up your phone after seeing a post on instagram. “Who is he?” & “He fuck you better then me?”. Oh and please don’t tell him yes. Because let me warn you. He will be right there at that door knocking.

“You know you fucking lyin. But ight we gon see.” He hung up the phone and you laughed at him. Who gave this man an ego? Did he really think he was the only man with good dick?

You were confused when you heard a knock on your door but to your surprise, it was eren. “What the fuck?” he pushed right passed you walking into your apartment. “Nah, don’t fucking play with me y/n.” You could tell he was pissed just by his voice.

This man wasted no time bending you over the couch and fucking you right there.

“Nobody could fuck you better the me.” He grabbed a fists full of your hair pulling you up to his mouth.“You belong to me. Don’t ever let me find out there’s someone other than me fucking you like this.” and to be quite frank, nobody could fuck you like eren.

Eren talked you through the whole thing. He knew he was rough with you, but god he couldn’t help it. So that’s why he praised you for taking his dick so well <3.

He took out his phone and pressed record. His hard thrust drove lewd moans from your lips. “Fuck right there!” you screamed every time his hips slapped your ass. He made sure he got glimpse of your face so the guy knew it was you. He made sure you screamed his name just to prove who you belonged to.

You got so many miss calls while eren fucked you to sleep. Every time ole boy called eren went faster. <3

You woke up alone, your bed empty. Your phone notifications were through the roof. Over 100 notifications from that guy. It was crazy. But a simple text from eren stuck out. “Let me hear word about you fucking w some again. Next time ima put em in a casket.”

You weren’t sure if he was joking or not. But one thing you did know was he made every threat a promise. And he always kept his promises.

ARMIN! Lawd, you let armin find out you even thought about some one else fucking you, it was over.

This man went full psychotic when word got to him about you talking to someone guy. Apparently you were at a party grinding all up against him.

The first thing armin did was collect every drop of information he had on this guy. His home address, His mother’s facebook, His phone number, Job number. He knew too much on the fucker who decided to touch his pretty “girlfriend”.

It pissed him off, how dare you try to replace him. He blew up your phone to the point it crashed. “That’s so fucking cute, y/n. You think that you can just go fuck some other guy?” , “Please don’t make me do something crazy.” . The crazy part was you didn’t even fuck the guy, he was just fucking crazy. He always assumed you were cheating for some reason.

When you didn’t answer his calls he pulled up expeditiously. if you didn’t answer within the 30 minute window he wouldn’t wait to show up to your door.

“Y/n open this goddamn door.” He banged on the door. It was 2 am- oh yeah he knew you had work later, he didn’t care.

As soon as you open the door an argument ensued. “Pick up the fucking phone when I call you y/n” He yelled at you slamming the door behind him. “You ain’t my fucking boyfriend Armin. Ion gotta do shit.”

He never made you regret your words so fast. His nails dug into your hips as his pace increased. “Ain’t yo fucking boyfriend huh? Then why you letting me fuck you raw?”

Your bed was a mess after he made you cum over and over again. After he was done all you could do was mumble incoherently ‘Nobody is better then you’. He was rough but his after care made up for it <3.

He kissed your forehead before he nuzzled into your chest. “You’re the best I ever had.” he soon fell asleep after those words left his mouth.

I love my cute lil crazy guys <3

#Eyena writes♡ #eren smut #eren x y/n #eren yeager #eren x black reader #eren aot #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #armin aot #armin x black reader #armin smut #armin x you #armin x reader #armin arlert #armin x y/n #armin fluff #aot x black reader #aot smut

[unclewaynemunson]

“I need to tell you something.”

Shitfuckno. Eddie doesn't even know why he's still surprised. This is how it always goes, after all. He should probably just give up and stop dating altogether – again.

Steve looks at him exactly as ominously as the words I need to tell you something require. Perfect Steve. Funny Steve. Sweet Steve. Sexy Steve. Steve, who Eddie had genuinely believed to be different.

Eddie sighs, barely suppressing a dark chuckle while he turns away from that perfect face. He doesn't want to look at Steve when he'll tell him the undoubtedly messed-up shit he's about to spill.

“Lemme guess, you're married?” That was what the last guy he dated told him, seven months after they got to know each other. It can't be much worse than that, can it?

Steve grabs Eddie's hand, causing him to involuntarily jerk up his head and meet his eyes.

“How did you know?”

Jesus H. Christ. Not again.

Eddie roughly pulls his hand out of Steve's grip and laughs a joyless laugh.

“Apparently I'm a good guesser.”

He stands up from the park bench the two of them had been sharing. “Well, Steve, this has been a blast. You should go back to your wife, or husband – don't tell me, I don't even wanna know – and I should um, get going. Maybe tell the next person right away what they'll be getting themselves into. Would save them a lot of wasted time, just in case cheating and going around other people's backs isn't really their thing, y'know.”

“Eddie, wait, let me explain!”

Eddie picks up his pace, but Steve, stubborn as he is, easily keeps up with him.

“I'm really not interested, man.”

“It's not – I'm not cheating on her!”

“Okay, so you have an open marriage, good for you. Still the kind of information you could've shared with me, say, three months ago, don't you think?”

“She's a lesbian.”

And that makes Eddie freeze on the spot. It takes Steve two steps before he realizes Eddie has stopped moving; he walks backwards until he's standing right in front of Eddie.

“She's my best friend,” he says, immediately using Eddie's stunned silence to his advantage. “Robin, my roommate – I told you all about her. We wanted to buy a house together and that turned out to be very complicated when you're not... Well, when you're not romantically involved. So we got married. For the, um, practical reasons. We never – we're like siblings. I love her like a sister. But she's also my wife. Platonically.”

It takes a few seconds until Steve's words sink in. Then, Eddie leaps forward and basically collapses into Steve's arms, needing to hold onto him to prevent himself from crashing to the ground.

Steve's arms are warm, strong, and as safe as ever.

“Eddie, are you okay?” Steve asks softly. His lips brush against Eddie's ear while he speaks, and worry colors his voice.

Perfect Steve. Too-good-to-be-true Steve.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” is the only thing Eddie manages to say.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Steve says. “It's just – I've gotten some, um... Less than ideal reactions, in the past, whenever I told this when I was seeing someone. So I thought it'd be better to wait until things were getting serious.” He sighs, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair. “I didn't wanna scare you off. Are we – are you okay?”

Eddie nods. He lifts his head from where it's resting against Steve's shoulder and raises his hands to squeeze them around Steve's face.

“We're okay,” he says. “And I'm sorry I didn't want to listen to you. I–” He stops; he can't find the words right away. It's still difficult to talk about those things; to let himself be vulnerable. But Steve has been honest with him, so it's only fair to return the favor.

“I've been hurt, Steve,” he confesses. “More than once. I've had some really shitty experiences with dudes not being honest with me. I thought that that was what was happening again, and I couldn't – I couldn't go through that again. Especially not with you.”

“Jesus, Eddie, I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay,” Eddie rushes to say, pulling Steve even closer towards him. “I trust you.” And as soon as these words leave his mouth, he knows it's the truth.

“I do want to be absolutely clear about one thing, though,” Steve says.

Eddie leans back in Steve's arms to give him an expectant look.

“Robin is my wife. I'm not planning on that to change anytime soon. We've been through a lot together. She's been the most important person in my life for years. We own a house and a dog together, and I love her more than anything. I like you a lot, and I promise you I'm all-in with you, but... Robin is still my number one. And that's not gonna change overnight. I need you to be okay with that.”

Eddie swallows. He looks into Steve's eyes. All he sees is a man who is honest, who loves his friends deeply, and who refuses to make any compromises when it comes to love – whether it be the platonic or the romantic kind.

It doesn't scare Eddie off; it only makes him fonder of Steve.

He smiles, glances around to check if they're alone, and presses a quick kiss against Steve's lips.

“I think I can live with that,” he says. “As long as I'm the only one who gets to do this.” He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet Steve's again.

The sigh that Steve breathes into their tentative kiss is one filled with relief.

#trying my hand at some exploration of the platonic soulmatism #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #stobin #platonic stobin #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #mammon #mammon x reader #vox #vox x reader #husk #husk x reader