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xxdark-obsessionxx · 23 hours

Note

I’m a big sucker for Psych Au fics. Reader is a cis female doctor who treats Tord with kindness. He becomes obsessed with her. Refuses to talk to any other doctor.

Tord is always on his best behavior for her which leads her to let her guard down.

BIG MISTAKE

I was supposed to be asleep five hours ago but I couldn’t until I finished this. Just know that in my heart, this takes place in Arkham. Also I'm super rusty so I apologize if anything feels off/wonky.

CW: Noncon

Dark themes ahead, please read at your own discretion and keep yourself safe. This is a work of fiction and I do not condone or support scenarios like this in real life

_____________________________________________

“You dropped this.”

The man stares at you wide eyed as you hand him his lighter. He stands, rigid. You give him a gentle smile and press it into his palm, your other hand curling around the back of his hand.

“I know there’s no fluid in it, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it,” you say to him. You pat his hand and step away.

The man turns fully towards you and you’re able to read the name sewed onto his shirt.

“I-” the man- Tord- swallows hard. He quickly pockets the lighter. “Thank you.”

You give him another smile and walk past him. He had seemed to be going the same way as you but he never caught up. Nor did you hear footsteps behind you. Once you reach the director’s office, he leaves your thoughts. You were absolutely determined to make a good first impression on your first day of the job.

The man you met earlier had turned out to be your first patient. And oh boy, what a patient he was. Like you had promised yourself you weren’t going to judge any of these people but god damn. His file was thick. At least twenty papers were inside the manilla folder you had received from the head director’s office. Maybe even more.

You’d never know if you kept standing outside the director’s office gawking at it. You take a deep breath. Going through it sitting down was probably a good idea. As you make your way to the breakroom, your grip on the folder is tight, trying your best to make sure you don’t drop it and reveal your patient's file.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to get to the breakroom. A few people were there but they paid you no mind. They sit, hunched over lunch or their own files. You sit and start to read.

Løvik Tord

3 7 2 5 9

DOB: 1995

Age: 28

Hair: Dark brown with lighter brown roots

Eye: Silver

You end up skimming through this until you get to the bottom of the page. It wasn’t… pretty.

CASE INFORMATION:

Tord is a violent man. He is aggressive, manipulative, and has a short temper. Many doctors have tried working with him to no avail. He does not respond kindly to Dr.Casey (see page 5), Dr.Bonnie (see page 8), Dr.Roxy (see page 12), or Dr.Harley (see page 15).

He is extremely aggressive towards Dr. Bruce (see page 20).

You stop reading there, your chest feeling tight. You flip to page twenty. It’s not the last page like you had hoped. There were still…. Quite a bit in the file.

Dr.Bruce has tried everything he can to help Tord. He has tried finding common ground with the patient. Has tried being lax and strict with Tord’s schedule. Has tried working with Tord and letting him sit outside. Tord had found every loophole and burned every bridge until Dr.Bruce stopped lenient treatments. Tord stabbed Dr.Bruce fifteen times before guards made their way into the room.

It is unknown how and where he had gotten his hands on a sharp long blade. Tord was seen licking the blood of-

“Don’t worry if you can’t fix him. At this point, Doctor Markman hands his case off to fresh blood to showcase this place. No one expects you to be able to tame him.”

You startle at the voice, goosebumps raised on your arms. “I’m sorry?” you ask with a polite smile. Anger clouded your fear. What the hell was this person talking about?

The doctor, Alice, her name tag reads, smiles at you.

“Nearly everyone has tried working with him at this point,” she continues. “No one expects him to ever get better. He's here for murder, after all.”

You give her a tight smile in return. “I’ll just have to see for myself.”

Before she can keep going, you straighten up the papers and close the folder.

“I appreciate the advice, but I must be going now,” you lie through your teeth. What bullshit! What kind of doctors run this place?

You actually hadn’t needed to be anywhere for another thirty minutes but if this conversation continued you wouldn’t be able to hold your tongue. Everyone can be saved. With compassion and kindness and help, no one was beyond redemption. Or too far gone for help.

You storm out of the breakroom and wander.

“I was hoping I’d see you again.”

Tord grins at you as he’s escorted in. His hands are cuffed and before he can sit down, the guard pats him down.

It makes your stomach churn but you keep your face kind.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you greet. You watch cautiously as he sits down in the plush chair. The guard leaves the room.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

It’s silent enough to hear the clock as the two of you study each other. He seems to drink you in, eyes wandering up and down, seeming to take in everything. You’d do the same if you weren’t a professional.

“You used to dye your hair?”

Tord raises an eyebrow. He tilts his head a little, eyes focused solely on you. It unnerves you almost as much as his file had. No patient of yours had ever stared at you so intensely in the past….

After a moment, he answers. “Yes. I fancied black quite a bit.” He gestures towards his roots. “It’s been a while since Bruce got me more dye. No one else will.”

“I could look into it,” you clasp your hands, jumping into this opportunity. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to Doctor Marksman.”

“And what do you want from me in return?”

“I’m sorry?”

His gaze hardens. “What. do. You. want.” He grinds out, his body rigid in the chair. His hands were clenched.

Without thinking, puzzlement falls across your face. What did he mean? What did you want? For him to get better, obviously.

“I want you to be at ease with your mental health,” you answer, still looking puzzled. “I don’t want anything else from this job but that. I’m not dangling hair dye in front of you in exchange. I want you to feel comfortable in your skin and at home here, Mr.Løvik.”

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Is that really what you want?” Tord asks, an emotion you can’t quite place in his voice. “To help me get better?”

Whatever it may be, you smile at him.

“Of course. I want nothing but to see you succeed and be happy here.”

Things were easier after that first session. You always started off kindly, asking Tord how his day was going. If his favorite show or movie had aired on the television today.If his favorite food had been served that morning or afternoon. If he slept fine through the dreadful storm.

(“I know I wasn’t,” you had laughed. “I tossed and turned, jumping at each sound all night.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend was quite displeased.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. “Well, no. I have a cat but no boyfriend. I was too busy getting my decree to ever really mingle like that. Though, my poor little man was also distraught at all the thunder last night. He yowled at my door until I let him into my room and he curled up on my bed. I’ll bring pictures next time.”)

Too well for you and only you. Tord refused to talk to anyone but you. He would sit in silence or insult other doctors during his sessions. In one instance, he broke a new doctor’s nose. The poor guy had quit on the spot, cussing Tord and the whole place out as he was escorted to the medical section.

You were tense the next few sessions but that violent man was nowhere to be found. He kept his cuffed hands right in front where you can see them at all times. He never lunged from you. In fact, barely ever moved in his chair.

Tord was easygoing. Polite, charming, even. He took any medications he needed obediently and put up no fuss when you’d have him describe in later sessions how he was feeling and if he was feeling any negative side effects.

He asked about your cat. About how your favorite show was going. If the movie you were looking forward to has come out yet. If your favorite restaurant down the street from your apartment was still closed for renovations.

Eventually, enough time had passed that you relaxed. You stopped keeping your eyes trained on his hands. You stopped worrying yourself sick about his body language. You focused on his treatments and his mental health.

If he was going to hurt me he would have done so by now, you thought to yourself after your latest session with Tord. He was doing so much better than he had been doing six months ago. It seemed as if you were really making a difference, helping him improve.

It had been three months since he last fought another patient. Two months since he assaulted another doctor. And five months since he refused treatment of any kind.

You step outside the building and take a deep breath. A dopey smile sticks to your face as you walk to your car. Becoming a doctor was the best choice you’ve ever made. Nothing was more rewarding than helping people. Not even this cloudy weather could bring you down.

In fact, nothing tried to drag your mood down. There was no traffic on the way home. Some asshole hadn’t parked in your assigned parking spot again in the parking lot of your apartment. And your sweet cat hadn’t knocked his little box over again.

You happily reheat your leftovers and watch tv for a while before you get ready for bed. Unfortunately, your mood does come crashing down.

In the middle of the night, thunder wakes you. You jolt up, scrambling for your phone. Your hands come up empty. Shit, you think. I left it charging in the kitchen. Ugh. Oh well, you don’t need to look at your phone to see it is late and storming.

Another loud sound booms through your apartment. Only this time, it sounds like a crash.

“It’s just thunder,” you tell yourself. “Nothing to be afraid of.” You lay back down. Your eyes shut and you’re just about drifting to sleep when your door creeks open.

You bolt up, knowing damn well that your cat can’t open doors and you freeze.

Your heart races as your mind tries to process just who was in front of you.

“Tord?” you whimper, hands shaking. But that can’t be. That was impossible. He was supposed to be sleeping soundly in his room with the soundproof headphones you got him. He didn’t like storms. The thunder reminded him too much of gunshots and made him restless.

Useless information floods your brain.

“I’m home, sweetheart,” he rasps. His grin is soft in the moonlight. He reaches over to flick on your bedroom light.

He’s gentle he’s kind he’s sweet he’s-

He’s covered in blood.

Tord steps forward and you’re frozen in bed. His eyes are wild as they drink you in. There’s blood on his hands. In his hair. Splatters on his face.

“Oh honey how I’ve dreamed of this,” he croons at the foot of your bed. “Your apartment is just as cute as you described.”

He grabs the edge of your blanket and pulls it off. His smile grows sappy. “You did go for the red pants like I suggested.” He giggles, staring between your legs. “I wonder if there’s a match beneath them.”

That snaps you out of your shocked stupor. You scramble off your bed, slamming your head hard against your nightstand as you try to avoid Tord’s lunging grasp.

You lay fetal on the floor, tears in your eyes as you clutch your head. “Fuck,” you hiss.

Tord clicks his tongue. He slowly climbs off your bed, crouching next to you. “My poor clumsy sweetheart.”

You feel his hands in your hair.

“What do you want?” you gasp. Fear and pain mix as you start to cry into your carpet.

His hands stroke your hair.

“You.”

With that, you’re powerless to stop him as he scoops you up into his arms. You thrash as he dumps you back onto your bed, pinning you down.

“I know you're scared but it’s ok. I’ll be gentle, my love. So gentle.”

Your mind can’t wrap your head around what’s happening. Tord isn’t supposed to be tying your wrists to your headboard. He isn’t supposed to be kissing your neck and grinding his hard arousal between your legs. He isn’t supposed to be in your home.

“Such a good girl, staying still for me,” Tord says softly as he pulls back. He slides your pants down. Disappoint clouds his eyes when he sees your panties aren’t red but it’s deepened when he pulls those down and you’re barely wet.

“It’s ok sweets. I’ll figure out what gets you going. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in needing help.”

Anger wells in your chest as Tord fishes for something in one of his pockets. How dare he. How dare he parrot your own advice back at you. As if this was a simple therapy session. As if you were the patient and he was the doctor wanting to help.

“Get off me!” you snarl. “You know this isn’t right Tord. Y-you’re sick! You need help!”

Tord stops what he’s doing to stare dead eyed at you. He plucks a clean rag off your nightstand and stuffs it into your mouth.

“Enough of that,” he scolds. “You need this as much as I do. In fact, doctors orders.”

He grins at his own twisted joke. He fishes through his pockets again and pulls out a small bottle of lube. “Yes, just what my love needs. A good thorough fuck.”

You desperately try to spit the rag out but your mouth is too dry. You twist and tug your wrists but to no avail. This was happening. Your gentle, sweet patient was going to take your virginity.

Tord carefully squirts lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together. He parts your folds, humming appreciatively as he rubs your clit.

“That’s it, my good girl. Get nice and wet for me.”

You feel sick. Against your will, his crooning and his touches stir up arousal inside you. You close your eyes as he gently fingers you as if he was searching for something.

A minute later, your eyes fly open as he jabs something horrible. Your pussy grows slick from it, pleasure building in your lower stomach.

“There it is.”

You shake your head violently. Not there, you try to plead with your eyes. Anywhere but there!

But Tord merely smiles at you and ruthlessly abuses that spot. Over and over his fingers jab and curl, rubbing it. You squeeze your eyes tight, small moans making their way out of your throat as pleasure jolts through you.. His thumb strokes your clit and you cum embarrassedly fast. You stare at the ceiling and wish you hadn’t wanted to cum at all.

“Good girl,” Tord praises. He pulls his fingers out, eying them appreciatively. He sticks them in his mouth and sucks, moaning. “So sweet. But I’m too impatient to try it from the source. You’ll have to forgive me, my love.”

Panic jolts up your spine as you feel his tip pressing against your entrance. You try to climb up your bed rest but you only achieve getting a little higher up on your pillows. Tord sighs and presses forward.

“It’ll hurt for a moment but I promise this will feel good,” Tord tries to soothe. He picks up the lube and squeezes more into his palm and strokes himself.

You hate him. You hate him with all your heart.

He pushed forward and once again, you squeezed your eyes tight. His hand roughly grabs your throat.

“Eyes on me,” he snaps. “I want to see how good I make you feel.”

The fear overturns the pain and you quickly open your eyes. He pushes further in, reaching down to run your clit.

Tord rocks his hips a little, eyes starstruck as he stares down at you. “You’re getting wetter,” he mumbles to himself. A grin spreads across his face.

His hips snap forward, setting a firm pace. He stops rubbing your clit to grab under your thighs. He lifts them up and pushes until they’re almost touching your breasts.

He thrusts harder and-

You squeal, bucking your hips as he hits that horrible spot. You can’t stop bucking your hips, jolts of pleasure stabbing your stomach and stars in your eyes.

Tord pressed closer to you, caging you in. He holds your gaze intensely, panting a little. His eyes dart between your face and your bouncing tits.

Like earlier, you cum fast. This one hits you harder. And Tord doesn’t stop.

You cum again and he pulls out. “Move and I’ll beat your ass with a belt,” he growls. He pulls out a switchblade and cuts the rope off your headboard. He’s quick to tie your wrists together.

You find yourself on your stomach, ass up. Tord firmly holds your hips. He enters again, pressing down against you. Caging you against the mattress as he pounds into your pussy hard. By the time you’re cumming again, he finally cums with you.

You’re crying by this point. Overstimulation has you cringing, your pussy tingling as he pulls out. Once again, you start to panic. Tord had come inside you. You thrash underneath him.

“Stop that,” he hisses, slapping your ass hard. You cry harder as he does it another three times. And another, until you finally go still.

You hear Tord sigh harshly. “I need to be patient with you,” he mumbles to himself. He gets off of you and you hear him leave the room.

He’s back within minutes, holding a wet hand towel. You’re gently turned over onto your back and he softly cleans you up. You can’t look at him.

“Mrrow.”

Your heart jolts. Your cat jumps onto the bed, purring as Tord pets him with his clean hand. Traitor.

“You rest while I pack,” Tord says softly. He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll grab everything you need and love for our new home.”

He climbs off the bed and leaves the room again. He comes back with duffel bags. Your cat paddles up to you and curls up next to you. He purrs hard as you sob your eyes out.

#tw yandere #yandere #tw noncon #yandere noncon #yandere tord x reader #cw noncon #cw yandere #yandere smut #yandere lemon #noncon tw #noncon cw #yandere x reader #yandere fic #yandere tord #yandere x you #tw dark fic #yandere sinsworld #sinsworld

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hoes4hoseok · 5 hours

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enhypen as the tortured poets department

pairings :: ot7 x gn!reader (if i accidentally slipped in a gender-related mistake please let me know!) genres :: angst & fluff warnings :: swearing, alcohol, mentions of food, sorta emotional cheating, reader being down bad ™️ word count :: 2.1k author’s note :: thanks to ogs @sunoosill and @fandomgirl489 for helping me hehe love you guys! also i kind of tried something new with this one, they're actual little fics this time so let's see how it's recieved 😭 that being said i lowkey hate this. i started doubting all my choices once i was like 60% done but this took an embarrassingly long time. also this is unedited because i'm sick of this draft. i hope y'all enjoy though!

ni-ki as my boy only breaks his favorite toys

“i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens cause he took my out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me i’m better off, but i’m not”

ni-ki swept 👏 you 👏 off 👏 your 👏 feet 👏 when you first met

because he doesn't seem like he'd necessarily approach a relationship the same way as everyone else just because everyone else is doing it

so when he asked you out he was pretty nonchalant about it (even if that wasn’t how he was feeling)

&& it all felt so romantic because you’d do things like get dessert in the middle of the night & then drive into the hills together

especially because he didn’t treat you the same way as the other people he dated — a fact his friends confirmed.

he was passive about it all before you.

there wouldn’t be any doubt that he loved you because he most certainly did

not to be cliché but he made you see the world differently! & more importantly, he made you see romantic relationships differently

but you could tell that he had a sense of uncertainty around you

not because he was uncertain about his feelings for you

but an uncertainty that told him that he needed to spend each moment like it could be taken away from him in the blink of an eye

he knew he was feeling too much — he knew you were feeling too much

because ultimately, he was unsure about whether he was right for you.

so he left you, promising that you’d be better off without him.

you weren’t.

sunoo as down bad

“for a moment i knew cosmic love, now i’m down bad, crying at the gym”

sunoo would be such a good boyfriend on paper

he'd buy you flowers & give great hugs, of course, but he'd also be supportive & reassure you when you felt insecure and unsure about your place in the world

that being said, sunoo is not one to string people along

so the moment he realized that he wasn’t 100% in, he made a plan to end things & he did.

&&...losing sunoo fucked you up. it would fuck anyone up, to be fair.

finding out that he was leaving you when the relationship was everything to you would catch you off guard, to say the least.

he probably left feeling proud of himself for doing everything right too LMAO 😭

&& yes, i don't think it's anything he did that made it so bad

it's just that break-ups suck & you really loved him! even if he “did everything right”

no matter how it transpired, you were still in shambles at the end

you broke down in tears at the sight of anything that made you think of him

from the smell of gardenias in a grocery store

‘he bought me those 🤧! for our first anniversary 🤧!’

to the most upbeat song you’ve ever heard coming on shuffle while you work out

‘he loved that song’ (even if you couldn’t stand it)

&& you really hoped he was feeling a shred of what you were

but it sure as hell didn’t seem that way.

jungwon as fresh out the slammer

“all those nights, you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems”

you & jungwon had a lot of your own problems to deal with the first time you dated

likely because he had a lot on his plate at the time as an idol & you were just at different places in your lives

&& even though your brain was telling you not to, you fell in love fast

he’d taken you to a quiet spot in his hometown that he used to go to when he was overwhelmed as a kid

it was an old swingset at the park where, somehow, everything else had been renovated

the two of you sat there for hours with your hands entwined, talking about your futures

&& the possibility of them ending in the same place.

it felt childish & implausible, but you wanted to believe it

&&, as the break up proved to you, it was, in fact, childish & implausible to believe that your lives could magically become compatible

you tried to move on, you really did. you dated other people for years.

one boyfriend stuck around for four years. a coworker. your future with him felt written in stone.

he was good to you, but there was a part of your heart that yearned for more

the part that yearned for the type of connection you had on the swingset all those years ago

you didn't spend that time waiting for jungwon — you accepted that you were going to spend your life content with your boyfriend

but you sometimes thought about what it would be like if you met jungwon under different circumstances or another life where his career wasn’t so controlling and demanding of him

you would smile listening to his music (that you subconsciously hoped was about you)

&& checked how he was doing online periodically

but then you were single. it was something your boyfriend said about not seeing a future here. not seeing a future with you. when you gave him four years of your life.

you knew you should have felt more, that you should have been torn apart for months

but a week later, you picked up the phone & dialed the number that had been seared into your brain for six years

“y/n?”

his voice was almost a whisper.

“do you think you could take me to that park again tonight?”

“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“thank you.”

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“i missed you.”

heeseung as the alchemy

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

when you started dating heeseung, you knew it would be really easy for him to put you low on his priority list being an idol

&& you wouldn’t have blamed him for that

because your careers are important, especially at this point in your lives (also your exes probably did that with much less demanding jobs)

but he didn’t! he told you it would be tough but that he’d try his best to make sure you had time together even with his insane packed schedule

&& try he did omg 🤭 that man put in the WORK

he would show up towards the end of your workday just to whisk you off on a date 🫶

which you not-so-secretly loved for two reasons:

one: it reminded you that he loved you & valued your career as much as you valued his

two: he’s really hot. so it’s fun to see everyone’s reaction to him showing up heehee

&& after your workday he’d take you wherever you wanted

but you’re indecisive at times, so he’d just guess sometimes.

it was usually your favorite restaurant or a massage parlor, but once he literally took you to the airport for a getaway? who knows what he has planned lmfao

you loved getting surprised by your boyfriend, of course, but the nights when you were at his concert to support him? those meant the world to you.

you swore that you’d never forget the look on his face when he realized you were in the crowd the first time you surprised him

but honestly? his excitement never faltered. he still wears that childish grin every time he sees you showing up for him

&& the post concert kisses are incomparable to all the others

because he kisses you like you’re the stars in a rom-com. every. damn. time — whether it’s backstage or in front of 20,000 people.

jay as chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

“if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’”

jay was hurting you

with every instagram post he uploaded with a woman you didn’t recognize,

at every red carpet appearance where he had someone else on his arm,

with every polite smile he greeted you with when you crossed paths.

you broke up with him. years ago, at that. you had no right to feel this way.

his mind seemed scattered in your time together & he was unsure about most everything

at first, it had seemed like you were the exception to that.

until you weren’t.

when you broke it off, you told him you loved him. & that maybe you always would.

he might have loved you.

but if that was the case, he never told you.

on occasion, you thought about how he felt seeing you date around aimlessly.

had he done the mature thing & moved on?

did his jaw clench seeing another man kiss you the same way it did before you dated?

did he care about what you were thinking as much as you did about him?

there were times that you’d stare at his contact, finger hovering above the ‘call’ button

almost hoping your finger would slip so you’d have the chance, the smallest chance to hear him say

“i loved you the way that you were.”

(i really want to write a oneshot about this actually? maybe?)

jake as so high school

“get my car door, isn’t that sweet, then pull me to the backseat, no one’s ever had me, not like you”

jake was so obsessed with you before y’all started dating HEHE probably from the first time that he had a conversation with you!

he was so enthralled by the way you think & see the world

&& he blushed and stumbled on his words every time he talked to you for months & his friends would tease him RELENTLESSLY

he got so nervous before following you on social media that he had to employ his friends to help.

“guys, just press it for me. i can’t look!”

he probably thought about asking you out on many occasions but chickened out for one reason or another every time

but then he saw you at the local convenience store while he was out getting ramen at 2 a.m. — or rather, you saw him.

"jake?" he'd know that voice anywhere. oh god oh god oh god oh god

he needed a moment to compose himself, but he pulled himself together enough to look up at you & greet you properly <3

his stress slipped away fairly fast after that & you found yourselves shopping for your respective midnight snacks together

"have you tried this one? it's probably my favorite limited edition flavor" you had said, pointing to your favorite candy

which, naturally, he responded to by pulling a handful into his basket 😚

you didn't know whether he wanted to try it because you liked it or he was buying it for you, but either way, you found it endearing

after you both paid, jake took your groceries in his other hand, declaring that he'd carry them to your car for you

which, of course, wasn't possible. you had walked.

😧...😟...😶...🤔...☝️😲 "i could give you a ride! i don't want you walking home alone at this hour. or i could call you an uber if you're not comf—"

"i'd really like that"

&& then his heart would damn near explode at the sight of your smile. because how could it not.

he fumbled with the bags before opening the passenger door for you

&& on the drive there he'd stare at you with heart eyes while you talked at every red light

you'd have to tell him it turned green because he was just so distracted hehe

oh my god not this being my second fic about jake driving you home,, 🫣 IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE I DON'T PLAN THESE I JUST GO WITH WHAT FEELS RIGHT

i'm just hilarious, this does not show anything about what i want irl, absolutely nothing.

sunghoon as i look in people’s windows

"what if your eyes looked up & met mine one more time?"

you & sunghoon had a mutual break up, but it didn't feel that way a month after it happened

especially not when you were walking alone down the street his friend lived on & noticed the light shining through the large window

contrary to what you told yourself (i don’t even care if he’s in there) you approached the warm light warily

you didn’t really know whether you were hoping to see him in there, but you did — he was laughing with a few people, glass of wine in hand

&&…you weren’t expecting a flood of memories to overcome you in the way they did.

memories from when you were invited. memories from when you called them “our” friends & not “his” friends. memories from when you were the one making him laugh.

you didn’t notice your mouth fall agape or the tears welling in your eyes until sunghoon met your gaze with a tilt of his head, his smile falling as he registered your presence

for a moment, your mind rushed to decipher the look on his face — the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, the way his mouth fell agape too — the same expressions you used to be able to read so well.

finally tearing your gaze from sunghoon, you noticed his friends turning back to look out for whatever it was that made their friend so unsettled

they never saw you. you ran before they could.

perhaps if you had stayed a moment longer, you would have heard the front door open.

txt version ☆ midnights version ☆ masterlist

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xxshadowbabexx · 2 days

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Melodrama: Liability

Part one, part two, part three, part four, part five (this), part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten, part eleven

check series masterlist for warnings

You were glad the taxi driver stayed silent as you wept in the back seat.

Today was your birthday. Woo fucking hoo, because Johnny was fucking Ghost.

It’s fine, you told yourself. You don’t need Johnny anyway. And he was always going to be a cheater.

You don’t know why you thought today would change that.

You’re mot sure what’s worse- the fight you and Johnny got into, or the fact that he called up Ghost after. He said something about “needing someone who cares” as if you were the one who didn’t care. Whatever. Those weren’t the words stuck in your head.

You’ve seen Johnny get angry a plenty, but never at you, or at least not like that.

“Maybe I made a bloody mistake! But did ye ever think tha’ the mistake was nae cheatin’ it was dating ye in the first place?”

“Being around you is poison, hen. Sorry for wanting to breathe,”

You collapse onto the floor when you get home, not even making it to the door before sobs wreaked havoc on your body. Your chest convulsed as you wailed, plump and salty tears running down your face and hitting the floor.

You love him. You love him!

Why isn’t that ever enough?

Why aren’t you ever enough?

Johnny’s not the first person to cheat on you. The only relationship not yet soured is the one you have with yourself. Ironic, since you give them everything and leave yourself nothing.

Your phone lights up. Probably Johnny, you don’t check.

Then it lights up again, and this time you catch the name before the screen darkens.

Kyle.

With shaking hands, you reach for your phone. Two messages- both from Kyle. You open them.

Kyle: hey, i was with ghost when he left to see johnny so i figured something happened

Kyle: i know we aren’t close or anything but i’m here if you need anything

You were about to reply when he sent another text.

Kyle: also happy birthday

•••

You were a bit tipsy. Alright, maybe more than that- but the wine Kyle brought was doing wonders for your melancholy. The food was hitting the spot too, and damn, Kyle was actually pretty good company.

Funny, sweet, and good at making you forget why you had been miserable. Good looking too.

You set down your glass, biting your lip, “C’mon Kyle, up up,”

He raised his brows, “Up?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I wanna dance,” He laughed but did as he was told. The moment he was on his feet you put your hands on his shoulders and began to sway, head resting on his chest.

You didn’t know, but Kyle was smiling to himself as he put his hands on your hips. “Want me to put on sone music?”

“No! I mean- no I like,” you frowned, why couldn’t you ever play it cool? “I like listening to your heartbeat,”

“Yeah?” he asked and you nodded. You heard him chuckle and then he… he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You pulled back, staring into his eyes, “Kyle,”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me,”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “No can do,”

Oh. “But-“

He brought his hand up to your cheek, placing his thumb over your pouting lips, “You deserve better, hun. I know everything is confusing right nos, but I’m not going to let you sink down to his levels,”

You knew what he meant, and a sober you would’ve felt flattered, but you weren’t sober. And you weren’t flattered.

“Awh love,” his thumb brushed your under-eyes, “No tears, okay?”

You nodded, and laid your head back on his chest.

You both resumed your dancing in silence.

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #simon riley #soap cod #johnny soap mactavish #cod soap #ghoap #kyle gaz x you #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick

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morallyinept · 2 days

Text

A full transcribe of JAVIER PEÑA'S dialogue/lines from the TV show NARCOS.

S3/E8 - CONVIVIR

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

I stand by the operation, Minister, as does General Serrano.

We were one minute away from getting Miguel Rodríguez.

Minster, we recovered something from the house. It’s a ledger. Cartel accounts, transactions, going back years.

It’s coded. It’s bribes, money laundering… cocaine sales.

That’s right.

There are two possibilities. There’s the cartel accountant, Guillermo Pallomari.

And there’s the money launderer we extradited from Curaçao, Franklin Jurado. Jurado’s the most important witness to this case and he’s in U.S. custody. We’re not handing him over to a special prosecutor. So you’re welcome to keep the ledger, Minister… but we have the only guy who can read it.

I know someone who might.

__________________

(Narration) After the fall of Escobar, Medellín. Went from being the most dangerous city in Colombia… to one of its safest. This wasn’t a result of the end of cocaine trafficking. That was alive and well. It was due to the new godfather of Medellín. His name is Diego Murillo, but you know him as Don Berna.

(In Spanish) Did you find her?

(In Spanish) You have what I asked for, or not?

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

(In Spanish) Thanks for the info.

(In Spanish) What’s it going to cost?

(In Spanish) I see now.

A get-out-of-jail-free card.

__________________

(In Spanish) Hi fellas.

(Narration) War makes for strange alliances, putting you into business with people that, under other circumstances, you wouldn’t even shake hands with.

(Narration) The same is true of your enemies. They will unite when they need to. FARC, or Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, were a guerrilla army of about 17,000 strong… engaged in the longest civil war in modern history. And in the early days of that war, how did they finance their struggle? Kidnapping. Wealthy Colombians would pay a ransom to have their loved ones returned unharmed. So when the Cali cartel wanted to keep someone on ice, safely hidden somewhere in the middle of the jungle, they hired the pros. For a hefty fee, of course.

(In Spanish) Nice look, Berna. You’re coming on the raid?

__________________

(Narration) Private militias not only weren’t illegal in Colombia, they were encouraged. A government programme called CONVIVIR was started in 1994. And it authorised private security forces to take up arms against the communist guerrillas. A free pass for crimes against humanity, sponsored by Uncle Sam.

(In Spanish) Third generation night vision goggles.

(Narration) The Castaños ran the largest private militia in Colombia. Their AUC, or Autodefensas Unidas de Colombia, numbered in the tens of thousands. Their victims… in the hundreds of thousands. Theirs was a perpetual war. And if you're hunting communist guerrillas in the jungle, they were your only call.

(In Spanish) Last time?

(In Spanish) That’s real dedication.

__________________

(In Spanish) How many tents, give or take?

(In Spanish) Berna. Look, I don’t want a bloodbath.

(In Spanish) I need to get her back.

__________________

(In Spanish) Not since you sold her out.

(In Spanish) It’s good.

(In Spanish) Your wife?

__________________

(In Spanish) Alpha in position.

__________________

(In Spanish) Everyone’s in position. Rotor, force them to the north.

__________________

(In Spanish) Let’s move.

__________________

Fuck.

__________________

Christina.

Stay still.

__________________

I have her. Get Franklin ready.

__________________

In less than an hour, we’re on that plane. Your husband knows. He’ll be waiting for you. It’s all behind you now, Christina.

No. No, I don’t.

I did what I had to do and I’m sorry for what happened to you.

__________________

Yeah? Yeah, we’re about to get on the plane. We’ll be in Miami-

When?

Let me call you back.

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier pena #pedro pascal characters #javier pena narcos #javier pena dialogue #pedro pascal character dialogue

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strangemagicc · 10 hours

Text

pairings: Eddie Munson x Vampire! Reader, Stranger Things AU

summary: Eddie doesn’t know what it is about you that has him spun, completely under your spell.

author’s note: Uh, I wrote the last 2k with one hand and did my best to edit it, so if you see mistakes (no you didn't) 🖤 i just wanted to write a little something for fun, an idea that popped into my head two weeks ago.

As always any feedback is so appreciated! Thank you for all the support so far 🖤

w/c: 7.7k

warnings: smut - oral (Eddie receiving), unprotected p in v, blood drinking, brief mentions of religion (Christianity) in relation to reader's upbringing, drinking, drugs, death, a small descriptor of reader having hair long enough to tie into a ponytail. Please let me know if I missed any!

The year was 1740, the year of your birth.

Your second birth.

You were an average twenty-two-year-old. Desirable by all societal standards but unwed and edging closer to that worrisome age where your family began to question if you would ever marry.

But you didn’t have any desire to be a wife, to give birth to child after child in an endless cycle of pregnancy until the day you died.

It all seemed uninteresting, the furthest thing from your deepest desire. You wanted to be far from ordinary, something so exhilarating that it scared you. Something or someone that even your imagination couldn’t dream up.

One night it seemed like all of your wildest dreams and all your worst nightmares came true at once.

It had been a cold winter night, the snow covered the ground in a thick sheet. Loud underneath your boots as you walked through the town, obscured by your hooded cloak.

The streets were silent, dark except for the dim light of your oil lantern guiding you on your quest. It was naive in retrospect but your feet moved eagerly toward the secret spot you agreed to meet him.

Henry Davis was, by all appearances, a gentleman. Minus the usual shrewd regard for anything or anyone considered other. He liked your independence, the way you disregarded societal expectations.

The way your ass felt pressed against his clothed cock.

That night was meant to be the night; clothes shed, bodies pressed together, breaths mingling.

But you never made it there.

In the dark of night, a shadow shifted and you wrote it off.

Your mind was just playing tricks on you.

Then another shifted and suddenly you were surrounded, encircled mostly by men you didn’t recognize. Men whose faces were masked in cruelty, their eyes hungry. Angry. The threat of them had sent a shudder through your spine.

And amongst them was Henry, his gruesome smile the worst of them all. Pride coming off him in waves because you’d been tricked, you’d been had, and it had been his doing.

You were too scared to be embarrassed, your eyes searching for an exit but the men were closing in.

In an instant, you discovered that it wasn’t your body they wanted.

It was your blood.

Their teeth were sharper than the frigid air, cutting into you like knives.

Stealing your life force.

Leaving you for dead or close to it.

You’d laid there dying, vision blurring at the edges as you gasped. Unable to catch a breath. Begging your God for the end.

You’d thought it was a figment of your imagination, that someone had returned and pressed a thick coppery liquid to your dying lips.

And you thought it was part of dying the way your insides twisted, the way your veins felt like they’d been set ablaze. Heart hammering as it beat wildly against your chest and you clawed at your throat trying to escape what was inevitable.

Your heart thudded once, twice, and then never again. The final breath that escaped your lips shallow and no longer necessary.

The silent night turned loud, the sound of the bugs blaring and ringing in your ears. You could see through the darkness, your eyes darting to animals as they scurried in the trees and amongst the fields.

“Hello, my child.”

His name was Thomas, and he was beautiful. Skin resembling porcelain and free of any blemishes. Captivating blue eyes transfixed on you, hand beckoning you towards him. And without hesitation, you took it.

From that moment he ushered you into a new life. One filled with an endless bloodlust, a seemingly endless need for power and control.

It is 1989 and you’ve been alive for over two hundred years.

The world around you had changed but you were no different than the day you had died.

You were the same twenty-two-year-old. Far from average, and beautiful in a way that was unnerving to strangers that encountered you. They were never able to put their finger on it, the way you made them uneasy despite not doing anything for them to feel that way.

Too dumb to realize it was their sixth sense telling them to run, warning them of the immediate danger.

You bored of the hunt long ago, the blood lust not nearly as strong as it once was.

Well…not as fun.

All the money and power hadn’t made you happy.

The joy of exacting revenge and letting Henry meet the sun only lasted a century.

Though it did make you grin when you thought of the way his ashen remains drifted in the wind.

No one to remember him, no one to care.

Now, you didn’t know what you wanted but you knew it couldn’t be found in the crowded streets of the concrete jungle and you went searching for something that felt like home.Whatever that meant for an orphaned vampire.

You moved from New York City and made a home out of Hawkins four months ago.

The small town reminded you of the life you once had. The deafening silence and hushed whispers. Religious nuts with an agenda.

But you quickly found your crowd, someone you might refer to as a friend if anyone asked. And seeing him every night made your never-ending, suffocating loneliness worthwhile.

Less daunting.

You pulled open the doors to The Hideout, their old wood creaking with the force of your strength.

Eddie’s head cocked up at the familiar sound of your heeled shoes and watched as you approached, a familiar look shading his molten honey eyes.

The kind of look you were used to getting from those around you, their innocent human minds unaware that their attraction was due to the natural vampire allure that exuded from you and made them easier prey. More likely to follow you down a dark alley despite their better judgments.

He smiled at you wide, his dimples piercing the flesh on either side of his plump lips.

Eddie Munson was a real salt of the earth man beneath the layers of anger and resentment that he hid behind but you’d found that he was easy enough to unravel. Months of nightly visits exposing his molten center and it took him just as long to crack your hardened exterior.

“Busy night, Munson?” you asked and gave him an equally broad smirk as you glanced around and slid onto the stool before him, a small chuckle escaping your lips when you noticed Mr. Cartwright falling asleep with a beer in hand.

The bar was nearly empty except for a few regulars spread around in varying states of inebriation. Madonna played on the jukebox, a cute blonde danced offbeat to the insipid song. Her partner held onto her like a life raft.

It was the typical crowd for a weekday. The Hideout’s only busy nights were on Fridays when bands came to play or the weekends when there were specials on the drinks.

“Nothing crazier than a Wednesday night,” he responded, his words heavy with sarcasm and a raise of his eyebrows. His strong hands already reaching for the ingredients of your usual drink.

A strawberry Negroni; a bitter drink with an eerie color resembling blood before it oxidized.

“Am I that predictable?” Your brows quirked as he pushed the glass towards you.

“Just a little, City Girl,” he teased and began to rinse the mixer he’d used to concoct your drink.

You took a swig, jaw clenching as the alcohol burned your throat. The warmth still felt as it settled into your empty stomach.

If you were honest, you enjoyed the quiet lull of the bar and the fact that you got Eddie’s undivided attention.

At first, you were guarded; completely thrown by his dramatics and how he talked to everyone without restraint. Slowly he had chipped away at your marble exterior, teasing you and asking you questions, at least one, every time he saw you. Doing his best to get to know you better, a concept that had been foreign to you for some time.

Where are you from?

Why’d you leave New York?

Is it as great as they say?

Why the fuck would you choose to live in Hawkins?

He knew your favorite drink, the songs you hated from the downturn of your mouth whenever they came on the radio, that black seemed to be your favorite color, and he’d noticed that you only came out when the sun had set.

“I have a question for you,” Eddie remarked.

“Don’t you always?” You grinned around your glass and took another sip.

He ducked his head, a hint of embarrassment vibrating off him—the thrum of his heart loud.

“There is one thing I still haven’t figured out,” Eddie began.

“You’ve been trying to figure me out?” You interrupted, settling your glass back onto the wooden counter. A cheeky grin pulling across your lips.

The banter between friends had become passive flirtation weeks ago when you began to crave more than just his blood.

You loved to tease him, to watch how his eyes would always go wide in surprise, or how a crooked smile would spread across his lips.

“I’m sure everybody in this small town is,” he laughed, though his cheeks turned a brilliant red at your question.

“And what have you uncovered, Detective Munson?” You played along, voice sing-songy in your encouragement.

“Not much,” he raised his hands as if to show you he was empty-handed.

“Why is it that I never see you in town and only see you here when the sun has set? You must work some crazy long hours. You a nurse or something?”

“‘M not a nurse, blood makes me queasy,” you lied.

Eddie’s lips pursed at your confession, mind working overtime to figure you out.

“Then what are you? Come on, you’ve got to at least give me a hint,” he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at you expectantly.

Your gaze traced his lean muscle, eyeing the way his biceps bulged beneath the plain black t-shirt he wore. The way his hair was tied into a low bun, loose strands framing the sharp lines of his face. The veins in his hands were pronounced, the blood that coursed within them a low hum.

If your heart still beat it would’ve been racing with want.

“Now what would be the fun in that?” Your gaze met his as you raised your glass to your mouth, rubbing the cool rim of it against the swell of your lower lip.

You were teasing him despite how close he was to discovering your secret; why you could only come out at night or risked being roasted by the sun.

An intensity passed between you, a stimulating silence that filled the small bubble you shared with him.

“That’s it? No other guesses?” You asked, breaking through the tension.

He shrugged, trying to appear unaffected by the energy buzzing between you.

“Maybe a creature of the night,” he joked and wiggled his fingers at you, making a noise that resembled a caricature of a ghost and for the first time in centuries you giggled.

A light sound that made Eddie feel a pang of pride.

“And if I was?” You arched your brow at him, gazing into his big amber eyes from below your lashes.

A little hypnotizing. Enticing him despite the looming threat.

“Are we talking furry friend or something closer to Nosferatu?”

“Well, I don’t have a tail to wag and you don’t see me outside howling at the moon tonight.” You pointed a sharp nail toward a window and to the full moon that cast a yellow glow into the darkened parking lot.

Eddie chuckled at your dramatics.

“I mean, I’ve seen Vampira. Undead chicks can be hot,” Eddie shrugged.

“Oh? You don’t mind a little biting?”

You wiggled your eyebrows, listening as the blood rushed to his cheeks, noticing how his breathing quickened at your words.

It had always been a fun little game, toying with a potential meal. Flirting until they were stuttering, unable to produce a sentence. You could still hear what your old master used to say.

Don’t play with your food.

But Eddie wasn’t food and you reminded yourself, repeating the words like a mantra.

Eddie is not food.

“I’ve never shied from a little nibble,” Eddie interrupted your internal battle and leaned his elbows onto the counter, openly flirting despite the thrum of his heart. The nerves that seeped into his sinew.

“I should’ve known,” you pointed your finger at him, fighting the smirk that threatened to give your enjoyment away.

Eating up his words.

“What is that supposed to mean, city slicker?” Eddie moved a half an inch closer, playing into your game; teasing you just as you were teasing him.

Daring you to say exactly what it was you meant.

Your usual game of cat and mouse had new stakes. Leaving you to question who was the cat and who was the mouse.

“I could just picture you covered in love bites, dabbling with handcuffs.”

Your eyes drew the brunette in, bewitching him despite your lack of immortal abilities.

“Are you trying to find out?” He challenged you.

You tiptoed near the line; the one that put you at risk.

“Are you trying to show me?”

You finished your drink, swallowing hard before setting the glass onto the counter with a thud; fingers playing with the condensation. Eying the way Eddie’s adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his carotid thrumming with exhilaration.

He was caught off guard, your conversation turning from the typical flirty banter to an open invitation.

The hesitancy was written on his brow, etched into the lines of his forehead and you wished you had the power to read his mind.

“What if I am?”

“Then you should come to my house once you close up.” You whispered, leaning closer.

Instinctively Eddie closed the space, his mouth inches from yours.

You gave him a teasing smirk, reaching over the counter for a napkin before settling back into your seat. He watched as you opened your purse and fished for the spare pen sitting at the bottom. Quickly you sprawled your address on the paper, pushing it toward him once you were done along with what you owed him for your drink.

You didn’t wait for his reaction, hopping off the barstool and walking through the doors. Back into the warm summer air.

Hawkins smelled a lot like how the world used to before it got itself into a hurry and became a flurry of machinery; polluting the sky with waste from industrialization.

But this air was sweet; maple leaves and wet soil. The corn fields exuded an aroma that mingled with the rest.

And the night was loud, the chirping of the crickets amplified. Creating a song with the cicadas that lived in the trees. In the distance, you heard the sound of idling cars and whispers from a pair of lovers near the lake. It had been hundreds of years since you couldn’t hear everything around you. Couldn’t read people based on their increased heart rate, or the sound of their quickening breath.

It was in the streets of New York where you began to long for the mystery, to miss wondering what came next. Trying to guess what someone’s intentions were. It made life less predictable, less monotonous.

Cars whizzed past you as you walked the dirt path that led to your home; an abandoned Victorian mansion that townspeople believed to be haunted.

You’d encountered ghosts before but they didn’t live within your walls. The only thing spooky about the home was its murderous past; though those killings didn’t compare to the trail of bodies you’d left behind.

There was never a knock on your door or any questions raised about your renovations as you scraped and cleaned the dirty interior.

You figured the towners were too polite or scared to ask questions opting to gossip amongst themselves instead.

But you didn’t mind the whispers.

Finding amusement in their sideways glances, and increased heart rates when you were around. Fear of the unknown taking hold of them.

The only challenge of the small town was its population.

Hawkins had a mere ten thousand citizens, a far cry from the sprawling city you’d retreated from making it harder to hunt. To find food that satiated your hunger.

You’d settled for rabbits, bobcats; really whatever you could find. But their gamey blood didn’t compare to the richness human prey had to offer.

Every human had a special flavor based on their dietary preferences and varying lifestyles. Some had bold, deep flavors while others were light; almost tasting of fruit. A select few tasted as polluted as the air around you, toxins mingling within their life force and tainting their taste.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Eddie would taste like. Imagining his strong flavor as his blood coursed over your tongue and your incisors grew, poking into your lips at the thought.

Eddie is not food.

The words repeated over and over, engraining themselves into your brain.

The door creaked as you stepped into your home, the dank smell of mildew and dust greeting you despite the hours you’d invested trying to clean the place.

You dropped your purse onto the coat rack nestled by the front door, kicking off your heels and pulling up your hair as you walked further into the home.

The original chandeliers gleamed above, flashing occasionally due to the old wiring. You’d decided to paint the walls a forest green; a color that stood out against the wood paneling covering half its surface and matching the tiles lining the fireplace in the foyer.

Candles were perched on nearly every surface, wax melted below them and clinging to the candelabras that held them.

You ran your hands along the wooden banister above the fireplace, glancing at the grandfather clock that marked the passing minutes in loud ticks.

There were several hours between now and when Eddie got off work. And you debated whether to change into something a little more comfortable. Questioning if that would be too obvious.

Did you really care if it was?

Taking the stairs two at a time you walked to your room and opened the armoire that sat against the wall closest to your bed; rifling through its contents until you found something indecent. Something that left little to the imagination.

It was a burgundy dress hemmed in black lace that had a deep v-cut down the middle and a high slit on either side revealing the length of your legs. The curve of your ass was nearly exposed and barely covered.

You sat at your vanity and reached for your red lipstick, swiping the vibrant color along your lips. Smiling at yourself despite the lack of reflection.

Completely aware of just how good you looked.

The snap of a twig caught your attention and you stilled as you listened to the approaching footsteps outside your home; recognizing the heavy tread of his shoes.

He’s early.

Eager.

You grinned to yourself and slowly made your way downstairs, anticipating the moment his hand rapt against the wood.

Giddy when it finally did.

Slowly, you opened the door. Measuring his response, enjoying the way his eyes widened and nearly bulged out of his head as he took you in.

“I could’ve sworn the Hideout was open until one,” you tapped a thoughtful finger against your chin. Pressing your lips together to fight the smile that threatened to give your satisfaction away.

“The customers understood I had more pressing plans.” Eddie pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging his shoulders and trying his best to conceal how antsy he was.

And you did your best not to notice.

“Do you want to come in?” You tilted your head and held the door open wide.

“Yeah,” he breathed and walked past you. Eddie smelled of bergamot and tobacco. Cozy, the way a warm fire used to make you feel. You could smell the spearmint gum hidden behind his lips, the tequila still burning on his tongue and you itched to taste him.

You watched as he glanced around your home, auburn curls free from the hair tie that restrained them before. Loose ringlets framing his face perfectly.

“Knew I recognized the address,” he laughed, eying his surroundings.

“Haven’t been in here since it was condemned.”

“Are you another superstitious townie?” You teased.

“Oh come on, the Creel house is definitely haunted.”

“I’ve never seen a ghost.”

“Maybe they’re lurking, watching.” His voice dropped low, eerie as he began circling you.

Doing his best to creep you out.

You shivered as his warm breath fanned against your exposed skin and if you were still alive your nervous system would’ve triggered goosebumps to sprout along your arms.

He stopped in his tracks as your fingers grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt and held him in place.

“I don’t scare easily, Eddie.” You walked your fingers up his chest and rested them against his sternum, eyeing him with want.

He bent his head down towards yours, drawn in like any human would be.

But you weren’t ready to devour him just yet.

“Want some wine?”

You didn’t move, enjoying the way his warm breath felt as it fanned across your face.

He nodded quickly and watched as you disappeared into the kitchen, his hand rubbing where yours had rested.

Eddie walked further into the home, glancing at the pictures that lined the wall. Photos from an old world, at least a century ago. Solemn faces long gone, captured in a flash.

He chuckled at the oddities that adorned another wall, preserved insects and wilted flowers.

“Something amusing?” You questioned, handing a glass to him and holding onto one of your own. The red wine mixed with blood from a rat you’d just captured.

You weren’t fond of rodents but it would satisfy your thirst for now. Otherwise, you risked ripping Eddie Munson’s throat out.

“Just admiring your collection,” he pointed as he took a sip, trying to hide how the tart flavor made his face twist as it coated his tongue.

“I have loads more in the study, those just happen to be my favorite.”

“Have you always collected bugs?”

“Bugs, trinkets, people. I go through phases.”

“People?” His lip quirked as he took another sip.

“You know, friends. More than friends. Depends on my mood.”

“What type of mood are you in tonight?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” you answered playfully, both of you knowing it was a lie and reached for his hand, guiding him toward the living room.

His palm was warm against your own, his pulse fluttering and felt throughout your cold body.

Like a jolt of electricity trying to bring you back to life.

The living room was gilded in antiquity, the walls lined with Victorian-style wallpaper. A green that matched the painted walls.

A record player sat against one wall next to rows of records. A collection bigger than one Eddie had seen, bigger than the stock at the shop downtown. He dropped your hand, immediately intrigued.

You watched as his eyes skimmed the titles, an impressed chuckle escaping his lips when he recognized they were alphabetized and organized by decade.

“You listen to a little bit of everything,” he commented.

“I do but the sixties happen to be my favorite decade.”

For the music, the drugs, the sex.

“Let me guess, you were born in the wrong decade?” He snickered and you shook your head in disagreement. Coming to stand beside him, eyes dancing over features before turning to the covers as you recalled the memory of each one.

“I was born at the exact right time, got to experience everything.”

Eddie’s face contorted, disbelief covering his features.

“You’re only, what, twenty?” He guessed.

“Something like that,” you smiled coyly and reached beside him, pulling your favorite album from the shelf; Rubber Soul by The Beatles.

“Out of all of them, this is my favorite. Especially Nowhere Man.”

“Why?” He questioned and took another sip of his wine, fully invested.

“When I heard it, I was at a point in my life where I had lived for so long under someone else’s thumb and by someone else’s rules. I didn’t have any other perspective except the one that was given to me. I was nobody. Stuck in this endless comfortable cycle because I was too afraid to be uncomfortable. That’s the whole idea of the song, the angst of figuring yourself out and being too afraid to step out of what you’re used to.”

Eddie stood in silence, processing your words and suddenly you felt awkward. Like you’d shared too much. Made things weird or too heavy.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “I didn’t mean to, like, drop my existential crisis on you.” You grimaced and moved to place the album back on the shelf but he intercepted you.

“You don’t have to apologize, there’s a lot of songs I feel that way about,” he paused. “My mom was more of an Elvis fan but sometimes she played these guys. Had me dancing in the middle of her kitchen. My little feet on her always clean tennis shoes. Personally, I’m a bigger fan of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. It was a little more groovy, psychedelic, but we both know that was because of the drugs,” he chuckled.

“Definitely because of the drugs but then again, there was nothing better than dropping acid and listening to them back then,” you laughed with him, not realizing your slip.

“Back then?” His head tilted in confusion.

“Yeah, a few years back in New York,” you waved your hand absently, eyes blink quickly. Anxiously. Suddenly very aware that this was incredibly dumb and you were on the brink of revealing your secrets.

“I have Elvis here, what was your favorite?” You changed the subject.

He hesitated for a moment, and you could feel his eyes studying the side of your face before he responded.

“Stuck On You,” he finally answered with a hint of fondness, his eyes somewhere in the past. You reached for the album and placed it on the platter, placing the tonearm down. Watching as the needle fit into the grooves of the record.

The familiar crackle of the record player warmed you and you looked to Eddie as the song came through the speakers.

His head began to bob as he closed his eyes and smiled to himself. You wondered where his mind went. If he was right back in the kitchen with his mom. Little feet on hers, small hands clasped to soft palms.

Eddie held his hand out towards you, a silent invitation. Welcoming you into part of his world, one that felt more intimate than anything you’d experienced.

The night taking a different turn than you had expected.

You hesitated, looking up at him with uncertainty but slowly slid your hand into his larger grasp. There was a moment of visible shock when your cold skin was pressed to his again and he jerked at the temperature. Your flesh frigid like the winter you’d died.

But he pulled you close. Your chest pressed to his, one hand nervously resting on your lower back and the other holding onto your hand.

It wasn’t so much dancing as it was swaying but you could feel his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage and you wondered if he noticed the lack of thrum from yours.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the press of him against you. The smell of him, the way his long hair tickled your cheek when you rested your head against his shoulder, how his breath skipped when you rubbed circles at the nape of his neck.

Eddie pulled away from you but still kept you pressed against him, his face now inches from yours. Brown eyes darting from your gaze to the swell of your lips.

It was a look you’d never had pointed in your direction but read of plenty; longing.

An unfamiliar emotion clawed at your throat, one you hadn’t addressed since the days you were human; want.

You wanted Eddie, more than just his blood or his body. In a way that scared you despite all the horrors you’d seen or experienced.

You leaned closer to him, eyes fluttering closed and hoping he’d close the space. Hoping you hadn’t read him wrong.

His lips were soft as he kissed you once, measuring your response before he kissed you again. Eddie’s hand dropped yours to hold your face on either side, deepening the kiss. Paying special attention to the swell of your bottom lip. It made your body feel like it was buzzing with warmth, how it used to feel when you’d lay out in the sun many years ago. And you wanted to bask in it, to get lost in the feeling of kissing him. Your hands wrapped in his curls, arms twined around his neck. He moved his grasp to your waist, fingers pressing into the skin. Pinky rubbing circles against your exposed thigh and your desire clouded your judgment when you pulled at his lip, sharp incisor swiping against its flesh.

“Fuck,” he breathed and pulled away from you instinctively. Pressing his fingers to his lip and pulling it back, eyebrows raised at the site of blood.

“Got some sharp teeth, sure you’re not a vampire?” He teased and pressed his finger to his lip again, attempting to stop the blood.

It felt like your mind went blank, every thought and every excuse evading you. Unable to come up with a convincing lie. You stared at him blankly, hand covering your mouth to conceal the fangs that had sprouted in your arousal.

Eddie’s eyebrow raised as he looked at you, at the horrified expression that painted your features.

“I was just kidding, City Girl,” he joked but he could tell that something was off. That something was wrong.

He reached for you but you backed away, hand still covering your mouth.

“Did you hurt yourself too?” He asked, worried and you shook your head no.

You knew it couldn’t go on like this, that you couldn’t hide forever and have him too.

And maybe it was for the best that he knew now so he could run.

He should fucking run.

Your hand dropped from your face revealing the two fangs that pushed against your mouth, their tips poking out and pressing into your bottom lip.

Time ticked by slower, the grandfather clock’s arms louder as you waited for his reaction.

Waited for him to run out of the house and tell everyone that the Devil was real and lived in their town.

“A-are those real?” He approached you hesitantly, eyes focused on your incisors.

“Yes,” you whispered, closing your eyes and allowing your shoulders to sag. Feeling defeated and exposed.

“You’re a vampire?” Eddie’s voice rose several octaves as he looked at you, eyes round like saucers. The sound of his thudding heart was loud in your ears and you could only nod in response.

“What, were you planning to have me for dinner?” His voice was incredulous, brows raised high on his forehead and lost underneath his curly bangs.

“Of course not,” your voice was sincere and you began to reach towards him but thought better of it, your hand falling to your side.

It felt impossible to explain that although you craved him that you had no intention of succumbing to your vampirisitc instincts.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Do you think I’ve ever openly told someone I’m a vampire? I’m not trying to get a stake through the heart or be forced out into the sun.”

Eddie hesitated, chest rising and falling in quick succession as he studied you. Uncertainty evident in his gaze.

“All that stuff is true?” He asked quieter.

“Some movies aren’t too far off,” you shrugged. Why did that matter?

“You owe me answers,” he plopped onto the couch, eyes darting to the cushion beside him.

“Are you serious?” You asked incredulously.

“Spill, City Girl.” He pointed his hands toward the couch and you obliged.

Happy that he wasn’t running away. That for now he was staying.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. I mean, how old are you? When were you turned? How were you turned? What’s real and what’s fake?” He began to ramble off questions with the same curiosity you’d grown accustomed to whenever you’d walked into the bar. And the nerves that had been clawing at your throat began to subside.

“I’m twenty-two but I’ve been twenty-two since 1740.”

“Holy shit-”

His eyes were wide once again and you could tell he was trying to do the mental math.

“Shut up,” you pushed gently at his head but laughed at his reaction. A certain levity brought to the conversation that allowed your fangs to shrink back to normal so you were more human than ghoul.

“So that makes you?

You groaned, humans and their need to put a number to everything.

“Two-hundred forty-nine. If we’re counting.”

“Wow-”

“I know, I’m old,” You interrupted as you looked at your nails, avoiding his reaction. As though this news was worse than hearing that you were undead.

He grabbed your hand and entwined his fingers with yours. You looked at where you connected and back up at him, warmth spreading in your chest at his dimpled smile.

“I’ve always had a thing for older chicks,” he joked and you rolled your eyes.

“But you weren’t kidding, you have seen everything.”

“Well, mostly everything. I haven’t been around as long as some of the others.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation.

“Some of the others?”

“There’s an elder who’s a few thousand years old,” you shared, slightly uncomfortable. It was against the rules of the coven to share your secrets, your history, with humans. Only the Elders could decide who was worthy.

“Is that who turned you?”

You’d never talked about that night before, it wasn’t a conversation you had with other vampires. They didn’t focus on how they became just on what they were and it was easy to adopt that mindset, to try to push the cruel memory to the recesses of your mind.

“No,” you shook your head.

“My maker’s name was, is, Thomas. I don’t know his exact age but I imagine he is older than even the world that I was born into.”

“Did you ask him to change you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Some of the humans who’d offered themselves as concubines or servants to the Elders had begged for the gift but you couldn’t imagine being a vampire now that you’d lived the life of one and endured the years of suffering. The endless hunger and the isolation.

“Back then, the church saw anything that wasn’t scripture as the work of the Devil. There were whispers of witches and worshippers. Talk of animals that had been butchered around the village but the idea of a vampire had never even occurred to me. That night, I was out to meet a boy but it was all a lure so they could drain me. They’d left me for dead when Thomas took pity on me. It was the worst pain I’d ever experienced.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered and you shook your head at him. A bloody teardrop ran down your face and you quickly wiped at it, hoping he didn’t notice.

“You have no reason to apologize, it’s practically ancient history after all,” you joked with a small laugh. Trying your best to bring a bit of mirth to the situation.

But Eddie didn’t buy it and pulled you closer until you were flush against him in a warm embrace.

“Why’d you choose Hawkins?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly.

“I closed my eyes, put my finger on a map, and decided to go wherever it landed.”

“Too bad it didn’t land on a much more interesting place.”

“It’s pretty interesting so far,” you hummed, letting the insinuation settle over him without another word.

Eddie’s pulse had quieted to a steady thud, his fear subsided and it made butterfly wings unfurl at your center.

The dormant feeling making itself known again.

“Would you ever drink from me?” He asked barely above a whisper while he played with your fingers.

“Of course not!” You pulled away from him, gaze serious and set on his.

And he looked hurt by your words, as though there was something wrong with him that prevented you from feeding on him.

“Why not?”

“E-Eddie, I-” you stammered, trying to compose your thoughts. Debating how honest you should be.

“I haven’t fed on a human since I moved here. I don’t know if I could stop,” you answered frankly.

“What have you been feeding on?”

“Squirrels, rabbits. The occasional bobcat.”

“Do they taste the same as…you know?”

“Humans? Gods no,” you sighed.

“Do they satisfy you?”

“I haven’t been satisfied in ages.” Your gaze danced back and forth between his. A hidden meaning to your words.

Your eyebrows arched with a bit of jest.

“You can feed on me,” he insisted.

“Eddie-” Your fangs began to grow at the thought, your jaw clenching as you imagined the way his blood would taste.

“I trust you.”

“You barely know me,” you chuckled.

“I could list everything I know about you, City Girl.”

“Name one.”

“You so want to taste me,” he baited, his words teasing and silly.

You were happy you couldn’t blush. Even though it didn’t seem to matter, he could read you like a book.

He pulled your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand and up your arm as you watched with eager eyes. His lips left a trail of fire behind, felt in your marrow. You stilled as he neared your shoulder, his thick curls brushing against your bare skin.

Eddie pulled you onto his lap and you went willingly, head tilted back as his tongue swiped along your neck and his mouth formed an “o” to suck at your skin.

No bruise formed but the sensation was heavenly, a low moan escaping your lips.

Your hips circled on his lap.

His fingers inched under your dress, warm against the jut of your hips and he pulled you closer until your lips crashed into his.

It wasn’t slow or sweet.

It was a feral hunger unleashed. A scraping of teeth, a pull of lips. Frenzied as your mouths meshed together.

You allowed yourself to get lost in him, the world around you falling silent until the only thing you could hear were the small groans that escaped his lips.

His hands wandered further into your dress, nails scraping along your skin eliciting your own moans.

You pushed at the hem of his shirt.

You pulled away to drag it over his head until his pale skin was displayed, tracing the ink etched onto his chest with your fingers lightly.

You’d always been fascinated with them; the way mortals could create beautiful scars to display.

Eddie tilted his neck, revealing his carotid that thrummed with life. You could hear the blood rushing through him. An invitation you weren’t ready to accept.

Instead you kissed his pulse, trailing lower and moved off his lap. He watched you with hooded eyes, the way you pulled at his jeans and tugged them down his thighs. Throwing them absently, your focus still remained on him.

You dragged your nails over the thick skin that covered the lean muscle of his lap, relishing the way Eddie shivered in anticipation.

Your hand gripped his clothed cock firmly, your center aching when you felt the girth of his dick against your hand.

He helped you push his boxers down and you watched as it sprang free, his pretty pink tip already leaking for you. Your tongue darted out, humming as his pre-cum coated your tongue; a slightly salty taste that made you hum.

Your gazes remained linked as you ran your tongue along the vein on the underside of his shaft, your saliva dribbling down its length and coating his balls.

His hands gripped your hair, nails scraping along your scalp as you stroked him. Tongue teasing his tip once more before your mouth slowly wrapped around his cock. Mouth widened, saliva trickling from either side due to his size, and Eddie about came at the sight of you.

You started slow, allowing his length to push against the back of your throat before hollowing your cheeks out and sucking to his tip with a loud pop.

Teasing, testing, and taking your time to drive him a little mad.

Eddie’s moans only encouraged you, and you relished in the way his head was thrown back, curls fanned against your couch, his grip tightened on your hair as you continued to tease.

Increasing your pace, one hand following you up and down his shaft. The other massaging his balls.

“Fucking hell-” he groaned and you continued.

“‘M not going to last like this,” he mumbled between deep sighs, losing composure.

“I want to taste you,”

“I need to feel you,”

You both stated in unison.

Your chest was heaving despite the lack of breath and slowly you stood, positioning yourself over his lap. Holding yourself over his cock.

Eddie took his time, kissing along your shoulders as he pushed the straps of your dress down. Mouth moving lower and lower until they hit the tops of your breasts.

“Can I take this off?” He asked despite your obvious need, ever the gentleman.

“Please.”

He removed your dress and hung it over the back of your couch.

Eyes always on you, taking you in.

“You’re perfect, sweetheart,” he remarked and ran a finger along the curve of your breast. His gaze fixed on yours.

Your nipples were hard as you anticipated the feel of his mouth, gasping when his tongue finally ran alongside the budded flesh.

He pulled your nipple into his mouth with a tug of his teeth, tongue flicking across your perked breast.

Instinctively, your hands curled in his hair as your hips jutted against him. The evidence of your arousal coating his cock and making a mess of his lap.

The need was overwhelming, the lust heightened as you reached between your bodies and lined his cock up with your dripping cunt.

He watched as you lowered yourself onto him, his eyebrows marrying in the middle at the sensation.

The stretch was delicious, causing you to ache in the best way as you wrapped around him.

You took him slowly just as you did with your mouth.

Inch by inch, teasingly pulling off his cock to hear his gasps of pleasure. To feel his fingers press deeper into your hips.

Until teasing wasn’t enough and you took every inch of him, moaning loudly when he was fully seated inside of you.

Allowing yourself a moment to adjust to his size.

“You feel so good, Eddie,” you sighed and could feel the way his cock twitched inside you at the compliment.

You used his shoulders as leverage and began to ride him, swirling your hips to hit the spot you most enjoyed.

“Feed on me,” he insisted, exposing his neck to you once more.

For a moment you hesitated, thinking of all the humans you’d had. All the ones who died unintentionally and those who perished on purpose.

But pure want overcame any hesitancy you had and you leaned closer, swiping your tongue over his pulse before you plunged your fangs into the thick skin that lined his neck.

He groaned, hands gripping your waist harder as you began to feed.

Eddie tasted just as you imagined, the richness of his blood unlike any other you’d tasted.

The lewd noise of his cock inside your wet cunt filled your home as blood began to trickle down his chest.

You licked it up not wanting to waste a drop as Eddie gripped your ass and began rutting himself deeper inside you.

“Oh Eddie,” you whined and reached between your bodies to rub your fingers against your sensitive bud.

You titled your head back, losing yourself in the sensation, and he began to trail kisses up your chest and to your neck. Mouth searching for yours as your hips matched his pace.

Each of you edging closer to coming undone.

“So fucking perfect,” he groaned into your mouth, his pace not wavering.

Steadily pumping every inch into you.

“Eddie, I’m going to cum,” you moaned and he began to encourage you between kisses. Coaxing your release from you and pushed his larger fingers on top of your smaller ones that worked your clit.

It was an ecstasy you’d never experienced before; the high of human blood combined with the weightlessness an orgasm offered you.

Your head was buzzing and it was as if the whole world disappeared around you as the orgasm took over, coursing through you in violent waves as Eddie continued to worship you.

You repeated his name like an old prayer you once knew; over and over with conviction.

“Sweetheart, where do you want it?”

“Fill me,” you pleaded and Eddie bucked beneath you, his seed coating your walls as he groaned your name.

The two of you stilled, his labored breaths warm along your chest and you looked at him with a wide smile.

You loved how his warm body felt against your cold skin, the way his heart was beating wildly against his chest, and how perspiration made his bangs cling to his forehead.

His cheeks blossomed a bright pink. Eyes hooded and body spent.

So beautifully human.

He helped you off his lap but kept you close, holding you next to him as you lay on the couch. Your legs slotted between his, long nails grazing along his chest as he pressed kisses to your forehead.

Eddie’s breathing became heavier and you knew that he was sleeping.

You felt that familiar pang, deep in your chest where your heart once beat.

It didn’t feel like falling in love, it felt like recognition.

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this-loser · 3 days

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Through the Motions

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Author's Notes: I deleted my last story. Main reason: I had no idea what I was doing and where I was going with it. I'm gonna rewrite it but it will take me some time. So I'll start this little chapter work instead. I'll be updating slow so please don't be upset. You can also read on my AO3 account!

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「WC: 1,464 」

「Summary: It took one mistake of going to a party and another with you being in an alley watching utter chaos unfold with a guy that's called, Red Hood.」

「Warnings: Cursing, some mentions of alcohol and drugs with slight mentions of an abuser. Nothing too in depth just minor mentions is all.」

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「Chapter: Two Mistakes」

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God, the music was loud. Too loud. Being able to feel the bass in your chest and body is not entirely fun, and the fact that you had only come to the party was because your best friend had guilt-tripped you into it. For now, one mistake has been made that was coming to this party.

Second mistake was about to happen in approximately 35 minutes.

Voices, men and women. Laughter and the stench of sweaty bodies close together, alcohol, and- Christ, that guy does not know how to keep his hands off that girl's ass. You bring your cup up to your mouth at the sight, mind now pulled from the depths of thought before you glance down at your drink, half tempted to chunk it at the guy and then leave. I’m going home… You thought. Quietly, you made your way past people. Sometimes, needing to push by them and given the occasional annoyed glare or scoff from someone.

It did not take long for you to make it to the kitchen, dumping your drink into the sink and then tossing the red plastic cup into the trash before rushing out of the kitchen as a woman walks in, her friend behind her, and she passes her a lighter. Really? You could hear the thought bouncing around in your head like a ball in a pinball machine, the little "ting ting" from it hitting the sides of the machine echoing in the depths of your mind.

The music started up again. Rock. Loud and causing more people to be hyped up.

Stupid Girl

The irony of the song lyrics that could be loud enough to make out. How that alone made you roll your eyes, moving past more people and unable to find your friend. Your ride for the night is now gone.

Annoyance had started to build along with a headache as you finally made it to the door of the room, grabbing the knob and twisting it open, then letting the door slam shut behind you. The loud music muffled along with all the people in that damn party. You spared a glance at the door once more before letting out an exasperated sigh then taking the stairs out of the building.

Best place to hold a party where cops or nosy people could not be found. Find a relatively quiet and isolated abandoned building in the worst part of Gotham City. No. Scratch that. Any city, but especially not Gotham.

This place was not that good. Too many whacked-out loons running around. Some dressed as clowns, a literal scarecrow, and that weird guy- Mad Hatter? Was that the name he went by? Who cares; stay away.

You shook your head as your feet hit the first floor. Somehow, you could still hear the bass from the new song playing; maybe those people needed a doctor to poke around their ears. Make sure that nobody's eardrums get busted. You crossed the room, footsteps echoing throughout the empty room before making it to the backdoor of the building, the same one you and an asshole of a friend came through.

There was practically no noise outside that could be annoying. The downtown streets busy with the nightlife of Gotham, while here in this more isolated area was the breeze and-

Your head turned to the left, eyes widening as a man was thrown, hard, against a wall. A loud cry left him as his back came in contact with said wall. He slid down the brick wall, grunting and breathing deeply, trying to regain balance.

“No, no, shitbag. You’re not passing out on me yet.” The voice carried throughout the alley before a guy took long strides to the other man. Dim lightening aside, you could at least make out his height, and this guy could easily punt you across the damn city.

Your stomach dropped, and you swallowed saliva, sweat gathering on the back of your neck. Yet your feet stayed planted on the ground. Keeping you there and forced to watch the whole scene play out.

He leaned down, grabbed the man's shirt collar, pulled him up, then slammed him against the wall. Compared to the last time, it was not as bad, but it did knock what air the man managed to catch out of him. “Keep those eyes peeled. Ears open too. I’m giving your worthless ass a chance to live,” He leans forward. The light from the street lamps made the red on his helmet noticeable. “If I ever see or hear that you can’t learn to keep your hands to yourself, then you're going to have to learn the hard way.” He reaches a hand to his side, out of your view, pulling out a pistol and pressing it against the side of the man’s head. "Ever hit your kid again, and I won’t be as merciful.”

The man struggles before going still as the gun is pressed to the side of his head. Any retort he had was gone as sweat started to roll down the side of his face before he nodded. “Okay! I-I swear! I won’t-” “Not a won’t. Make it never.” The guy interjected. “NEVER! I’ll never do it again!” The man blurts out without hesitating, voice shaky and filled with dread. “Good. Now,”

He doesn't waste another second, dragging the man off the wall then shoving him towards the alley exit. “Get your worthless ass out of my sight.” The man stumbled, nearly falling on his face but scrambling to his feet and rushing off.

You still stood there. Next to the backdoor. Eyes wide and mouth gaped open. Not only did you watch a man get the shit scared out of him, but the same guy who tossed said man now turned. He was standing straight, head facing in your direction.

You had made jokes before. A six-foot tall man is something you would swoon over, but this? Maybe under different circumstances and not in an alley while he’s still got his gun out. Well, it’s at his side but the point still stands.

There is a silence that fills the alley. And for a brief moment, you could have sworn he’s just hesitant now. Unsure of how to address the fact that you were just standing there, staring at him while he did the same. With a shake of his head, a clear sigh - what sounds like one with how scrambled his voice sounds in the helmet - as he puts the pistol back into the holster before turning his body completely to look at you. “How much…” He trails off, thinking before taking a single step forward. “Did you hear?” He took another step.

You watch. Forced to since your whole body is frozen and your feet feel like someone trapped you in cement. Your mouth moves, nothing coming out. In an instant, your body betrayed and abandoned you.

His body was tense, shoulders and upper body hunched slightly. It’s like he was getting ready to pounce at you. Whatever god was watching, if any, you were already praying to. Every fiber of your being torn between screaming at your body for being stupid and just standing there like a deer in headlights while the other was already making a last will.

“I’ll ask again,” His voice lowered. He wasn’t aiming to hurt, but simply figure out, yet that still was not comforting by any means as he took more steps to you. "I-I saw the guy fly against the wall!" You finally managed to get out, mind racing as the world was almost spinning. He stops. About less than half of the way to you and making the alley feel like it had shrunk around you and is forcing him to be closer.

It’s like he’s thinking about what to say or do next. Maybe he isn't that scary because he's just standing there. Then he straightens his stance, arms at his sides, looking at you. “What’s your name.” It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking.

Your brain short-circuited as you stare at him, bewildered.

It took you three minutes before you finally blurt out your name next. He simply stares at you before turning around, pulling out a smaller gun from the belt that hangs tightly around his waist, the ends of his jacket moving with his movements. “Go home. Last thing you need is getting into trouble.”

That’s all he said before aiming the gun at a rooftop, a hook, and line shooting from it while another line wrapped around his wrist, dragging him up from the ground floor and into the shadows of the buildings.

Second mistake of your night. Staying in the alley, then telling the guy, Red Hood, your name.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd #dc #reader insert

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brightonstudios · 3 days

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First// previous//

Whooo next part! This one was a lot of fun to make, I really like how the last panel turned out. Please let me know if I made any spelling mistakes!

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt au #rise mikey #rise raph #rise donnie #rise leo #rise rocko #alone together au #rottmnt oc #save rottmnt #tmnt comic #tmnt

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shittyutmv · 4 months

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Palestine will be free. Please help how you can: here's a masterpost. Thank you so much to @/sulfurcosmos for keeping it updated.

ink by comyet swap by p0pcornpr1nce dream by jokublog killer by rahafwabas color by superyoumna horror by sour apple studios farm by guinongtale_au

#free gaza #free palestine #utmv #undertale multiverse #undertale au #ink sans #dream sans #swap sans #horror sans #farm sans #killer sans #color sans #🦑#if I made any mistakes please let me know #-mod kip

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sh0rtins0mniac · 3 months

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Who are the hostages still held by Hamas?

On October 7, 2023, 253 Israelis and foreign nationals were kidnapped to Gaza by Hamas and gazan civilians. Since then, 105 were released in a prisioner exchange deal, 4 were released by Hamas and 3 were rescued.

However, 134 remain in captivity (4 of those were kidnapped prior to 2023). A recent investigation has concluded that more than a fifth of the hostages are dead and the fate of some other hostages remains unknown. This video explains how doctors determine which hostages are dead, based on the nature of their injury and by analyising footage and the victims' last phone calls. Additionally, during the operation in Gaza, the IDF has recovered the bodies of a few victims and returned to their families for burial.

Since I couldn't find this all in one place, I've compiled a list of: 1) hostages who are presumed alive; 2) hostaged whose death has been reported/confirmed; 3) hostages who were released or rescued. In the group of hostages presumed to be alive who haven't been released, the youngest is 1-year-old Kfir Bibas and the oldest hostage is Iraqi-born 85-year old Shlomo Mansour.

As we learn more information, I'll continue to update this post.

They need to come back home. I'm hoping for more successful rescue operations soon. Keep them in your thoughts.

Hostages still held by Hamas (presumed alive or fate unknown):

(1) (2) (3)

Abraham Eitan Mor (23)

Abraham Munder (79)

Agam Berger (19)

Alex Danzig (75)

Alexander (Sasha) Trupanob (28)

Alexander Lobanov (32)

Almog Meir Jan (21)

Almog Sarusi (26)

Alon Ohel (22)

Amit Buskila (28)

Amiram Cooper (85)

Andrey Kozlov (27)

Arbel Yehoud (28)

Ariel Bibas (4)

Ariel Cunio (26)

Avera Mengistu (37) – Has been held hostage since 2014

Avinathan Or (30)

Bar Kupershtein (22)

Bipin Joshi (23)

Carmel Gat (39)

Chaim Peri (79)

Chanan Yablonka (42)

Daniel Gilboa (19)

David Cunio (33)

Dolev Yehoud (35)

Doron Steinbrecher (30)

Edan Alexander (20)

Eden Yerushalmi (24)

Eitan Horn (37)

Eli Sharabi (51)

Eliya Cohen (26)

Elkana Bohbot (34)

Evytar David (23)

Gadi Moses (79)

Gali Berman (26)

Guy Gilboa-Dalal (22)

Hamzah Al-Zayadni (22)

Hersh Goldberg Polin (23)

Hisham al-Sayed (35) - Has been held hostage since 2015

Yair Horn (45)

Idan Shivi (28)

Itzhak Gelenter (56)

Itzhk Elgarat (68)

Kaid Farhan Elkadi (53)

Karina Ariev (19)

Kfir Bibas (1)

Liri Albag (18)

Matan Angrest (21)

Matan Zangauker (24)

Maxim Herkin (35)

Michel Nisenbaum (59)

Muhammed Alatrash (40)

Naama Levy (19)

Nadav Popplewell (51)

Nimrod Cohen (19)

Noa Argamani (26)

Oded Lifshitz (83)

Ofer Kalderon (53)

Ohad Ben Ami (55)

Ohad Yahalomi (49)

Omer Neutra (22)

Omer Shem Tov (21)

Omer Wenkert (22)

Omri Miran (46)

Or Levy (33)

Ori Danino (24)

Oryon Hernandez (30)

Rom Braslavski (19)

Romi Gonen (23)

Ron Benjamin (53)

Sagui Dekel-Chen (35)

Samuel Keith Siegel (64)

Segev Kalfon (25)

Shiri Bibas (32)

Shlomi Ziv (40)

Shlomo Mansour (85)

Tal Shoham (38)

Tamir Nimrod (19)

Tsachi Idan (51)

Yagev Buchshtab (34)

Yagev Kirsht (34)

Yarden Bibas (34)

Yoram Metzger (80)

Yosef Al-Zayadni (53)

Yosef Ohana (23)

Ziv Berman (26)

Hostages confirmed/reported dead:

(Note: I couldn't find a report with the full list, but if you google each individual name you can find sources.)

Alon Shamriz (26) – Mistakenly killed by the IDF

Arye Zalmanovich (85) - Death reported by Hamas. He was forced to appear in a propaganda video.

Asaf Hamami (41)

Aviv Atzili (49)

Daniel Oz (19) - Killed on Oct. 7. Status updated on 25/02/24

Daniel Perez (22) - Killed on Oct. 7. Status updated on 17/03/24

Dror Kaplun (68)

Dror Or (48) - Killed on Oct. 7. Status updated on 02/05/24.

Eden Zecharya (28)

Eitan Levy (53)

Elad Katzir (47) - Murdered by the Palestinian Islamic Jihad. His body was recovered in Khan Yunis. Status updated on 06/04/24.

Eliyahu Margalit (75)

Elyakim Libman (23) - Killed on Oct. 7. It was presumed he was a hostage because his body wasn't found, but it was later discovered his remains were accidentally buried with another victim. Status updated on 03/05/24.

Gad Haggai (73)

Guy Iluz (26)

Hadar Goldin (32) - Body held hostage since 2014

Ilan Weiss (56)

Inbar Haiman (27)

Itay Chen (19) - Killed on Oct. 7. Status updated on 12/03/24.

Itay Svirsky (35) – Killed by Hamas in captivity. His body was shown in a propaganda video

Joshua Loitu Mollel (21) – A released video shows how he was brutally murdered by a group of men on October 7

Judy Weinstein (70)

Kiril Brodski (19)

Lior Rudaeff (61) - Killed on Oct. 7. His body was taken to Gaza. Status updated on 07/05/24.

Maya Goren (56)

Mordechai Yonathan Samerano (21) - Killed on Oct. 7. His body was taken to Gaza.

Nik Beizer (19)

Noa Marciano (19) – Her body was found near the Al-Shifa hospital

Ofir Tzarfati (27)

Ofra Keider (70)

Oren Goldin (34)

Oron Shaul (30) – Body held hostage since 2014

Ran Gvlli (24)

Ravid Katz (41)

Ron Scherman (19)

Ronen Engel (54)

Sahar Baruch (24) – Killed by Hamas during a failed hostage rescue operation

Samer Talalka (22) – Mistakenly killed by the IDF

Shay Levinson (19)

Shani Louk (22) - Body taken to Gaza

Tal Chaim (42)

Tamir Adar (38)

Tomer Ahimas (20)

Uriel Baruch (35) - Status updated on 26/03/24

Yair Yaakov (59) – Killed on Oct. 7. Sons and girlfriend were released. Status updated on 15/02/24.

Yehudit Weiss (65) – Her body was found near the Al-Shifa hospital

Yossi Sharabi (53) – His dead body was shown in a propaganda video

Yotam Haim – Mistakenly killed by the IDF

Ziv Dado (36)

Released/rescued hostages:

(1) (2)

Abigail Edan, 4, American citizen

Ada Sagi, 75

Adi Shoham, 38

Adina Moshe, 72

Agam Goldstein-Almog, 17

Aisha Ziyadne, 17

Alma Avraham, 84

Alma Or, 13

Amit Shani, 15

Amit Soussana, 40

Anucha Angkaew

Aviv Asher, 2, German citizen

Aviva Adrienne Siegel, 62

Bancha Kongmanee, Thai national

Bilal Ziyadne, 18

Boonthom Phankhong, Thai national

Buddee Saengboon, Thai national

Chalermchai Sangkaew

Channa Peri, 79

Chen Goldstein-Almog, 48

Clara Marman, 63, Argentine citizen

Daniel Aloni, 44

Dafna Elyakim, 15

Doron Katz Asher, 34, German citizen

Ditza Heiman, 84

Emilia Aloni, 5

Emily Toni Kornberg Hand, 8

Emma Cunio, 3, Argentine citizen

Erez Calderon, 12, French citizen

Eitan Yahalomi, 12, French citizen

Ela Elyakim, 8

Fernando Marman – Rescued by the IDF

Gabriela Leimberg, 59, Argentine citizen

Gal Goldstein-Almog, 11

Gal Tarshansky, 13

Gelienor (Jimmy) Pacheco, 37, Filipino national

Hagar Brodetz, 40

Hanna Katzir, 77

Hila Rotem Shoshani, 12

Ilana Gritzewsky Kimchi, 30

Irena Tati, 73, a Russian citizen, was included on the list but released separately from the exchange deal.

Itay Regev Jerbi, 18

Juckapan Sikena

Judith Raanan, 59 [Released 22/10/23]

Karina Engel-Bart, 51, Argentine citizen

Keren Munder, 54

Komkrit Chombua

Kong Saelao

Liam Or, 18

Liat Beinin Atzili, 49, American citizen

Luis Har – Rescued by the IDF

Manee Jirachart

Margalit Mozes, 78, German citizen

Maya Regev Jirbi, 21

Meirav Tal, 53

Mia Leimberg, 17, Argentine citizen

Mia Shem, 21, French citizen

Mika Engel, 18, Argentine citizen

Mongkhol Phajuabboon, Thai national

Moran Stela Yanai, 40

Natalie Raanan, 17 [Released 22/10/23]

Nattaporn Onkaew

Natthawaree Moonkan, Thai national

Naveh Shoham, 8

Nili Margalit, 41

Noam Avigdori, 12

Noga Weiss, 18

Noam Or, 17

Noralin Babadilla, 60, born in the Philippines

Nurit Cooper [Released 24/10/23]

Ofri Brodetz, 10

Ohad Munder, 9

Or Yaakov, 16, German citizen

Ori Megidish – Rescued by the IDF

Oriya Brodetz, 4

Owat Suriyasri, 40, father of two

Ofelia Adit Roitman, 77, born in Argentina

Ofir Engel, 17, Dutch citizen

Paiboon Rattanin

Pattanayut Tonsakree

Phonsawan Pinakalo

Ra’aya Rotem, 54

Raz Ben-Ami, 56, German citizen

Rimon Kirsht Buchshtav, 36

Raz Asher, 4, German citizen

Ron Krivoi, 25, an Israeli-Russian citizen, was included on the list, although he was released separately from the exchange deal.

Ruth Munder, 78

Sahar Calderon, 16, French citizen

Santi Boonphrom, Thai national

Sapir Cohen, 29

Shani Goren, 29

Sharon Aloni-Cunio, 34, Argentine citizen

Sharon Hertzman Avigdori, 52

Shiri Weiss, 53

Shoshan Haran, 67

Surin Kesungnoen

Tal Goldstein-Almog, 8

Tamar Metzger, 78

Uthai Sangnuan, Thai national

Uthai Thunsri, Thai national

Wichai Kalapat, 28, Thai national

Wichian Temthon

Withoon Phumee, 33, Thai national

Yaffa Adar, 85

Yagil Yaakov, 12, German citizen

Yahel Shoham, 3

Yarden Roman-Gat, 35, German citizen

Yelena Trupanov, 50, a Russian citizen, was included on the list but released separately from the exchange deal.

Yocheved Lifshitz [Released 24/10/23]

Yuli Cunio, 3, Argentine citizen

Yuval Brodetz, 8

Yuval Engel, 12, Argentine citizen

#israel #october 7 #hamas hostages #hostages #bring them home now #jumblr #compiling all their names was a really emotional process. i did this the day before it was announced yair yaakov was murdered #and had trouble opening the file again #praying and hoping for the rest of the hostages' safe return #please let me know if i made any mistakes and/or forgot any names #as i've said in the post - a lot of info was scattered and i'm afraid i might have missed something #note: 253 was the total number i found in most reports. i don't know if it'll change at the end of the war - since some people were #considered to be held hostage and sadly later it was found they had been killed on oct 7 inside israel #like clemence felix mtenga

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