#The next one I'm working on is a hug piece because I cannot stop needing the hugs

[imperial-daffodil]

Wip - The Emperor and Daff, my first Gith Tav! Partial Illithid Daff looking with hope at the future, after that night when they discovered the Emperor's Old Hideout.

It was a tough time, just before they found the Elfsong Tavern. Everyone seemed to be against them. The meeting with Raphael and Voss did not go well at all.

Between Lae'Zel who wanted to strike a deal with the Devil on the spot, and Voss who yelled at Daff "I would do anything, sacrifice anything to free Oprheus!" (paraphrased) calling them Vin'isk.

Not to mention how Raphael had cut their connection to the Emperor - "You feel... Empty" the Narrator says, and empty they did feel. It felt like choking on the absence of air.

Going out of Sharess' Caress, they looked at Astarion and Gale (why did they not take Shadowheart instead of Lae'Zel on that one? WHY?) 'I want to go to Camp. I need to think. I need to SLEEP.'

All they wanted, was to hear his voice and meet him in a dream.

And how graced they felt when he called to them "There you are. I thought I'd lost you."

The ache in their chest and heart had, until then, been unmatched. His pain. Their pain.

From that moment onwards, they knew they'd do anything if it meant not being apart from the Free Illithid. Their Ally. Their Shield. And right now, he felt like a shield for their sanity.

It was shortly after, that they entered the city and fell on the Elfsong Tavern, again, guided by his voice and advice.

What that one night brought, was hope. Lots of it.

[noxi3xe]

Unfortunate turn of events

AFAB reader x Pantalone - NSFW (Minors DNI) Synopsys: You're in a tough spot and have terrible luck with finding jobs. Whatever might happen once you apply for a job at the Northland bank?

Warnings: Smut, Porn /w plot, public sex, hair pulling, overall just a quick smut scene w some plot

Words: 3.5K

Author's note:

This is also posted on AO3 HERE!!

this is a quick fic I wrote while bored, the *smut* scene is short and awkward so I apologize, but still enjoy!!

Minors dni!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

»I— I'll fix it.. I swear!«

I beg and plead as the shop owner shoves me out the door. I was a good employee, I really was, I always tried my best and always put my everything into every shift. I slump down against the door and begin to sob. This job was barely enough to cover for monthly food rations.. and aside from food I needed to fix up my house and save up for new clothes. I was going to even look for a second job to cover all of my expenses but now I don't have anything! I do not even know what triggered that immediate reaction, I mean, firing me on the spot? After breaking a simple vase that the shop manager bought just a week ago? From what I overheard it wasn't even expensive!

I stand up slowly and make my way back home, head hung low in defeat. I wasn't sure what to do now, I mean.. I've got to find a job, sure, but that was harder done than said nowadays, especially at this time of the year. Snezhnaya was a cold country all year round but winters were especially harsh. I wonder how I'd survive this year, I mean my roof is busted, my water supply is running low due to my pipes freezing up thanks to my broken heating system and not to mention that one of my windows cracked. With no heating, cracked windows and a part missing roof my house was as cold as the outside and I was barely surviving. I wasn't sure what to do till I saw freshly hung posters in the town square as I passed.

'Looking for hire.'

They said, and I stepped closer, considering the idea without even checking for the publisher. I'm glad I did because my eyes almost jumped out of my skull. It would've been a death sentence to join the Fatui and there's no way I'd even consider taking up this job offer, even if my life depends on it. The Northland bank is looking for hire? Yeah no thanks..

I stumble along and head home, hugging myself tightly, already missing my warm.. well.. as warm as it can get, blanket.

________

I stare at the dry piece of bread and the already lukewarm coffee set before me on the table. Everyday is getting harder and I don't know if I'll have enough money to buy food for next week. I lean forward and rest my head into my palms, sighing loudly. I don't know what else to do, I cannot find a job and donations from doing community service aren't enough. It's getting colder each day and I have a feeling I'll freeze if I don't get my house fixed up. That's when I decide that enough is enough and stand up, grabbing my coat.

I step out into the cold and begin to venture downtown, ready to start my search. I couldn't continue on like this knowing I'll eventually starve without a stable income. I knew I'd have to get up and start looking this morning when I found another window cracked.

—

I shuffle through the thick snow, snow slowly falling from the sky. It's a beautiful sight, the sun rising behind the parting clouds coloring the sky a bright gray-orange-blue-ish color. It was barely 6:30 in the morning and I was already threading through the city, heading towards the commission's guild, knowing I could make a quick buck or two there. Then I'd head towards the community board in the city center at around 9 to check for any new posters. The idea was great and It worked out perfectly.. to a degree.

I stopped by The adventurers guild like I said I would, greeting Katheryne and wishing her a wonderful morning. I accepted two out of three commissions offered to me, seeing as the third involved fighting some Hilichurls and I wasn't very skilled with weapons. I barely used my Pryo vision and even that was when I needed a source of heat, having no other use for the darn thing. The other two commissions were the delivery type. Ivanka, a widow living on the outskirts of the city required a fresh batch of groceries delivered and Jasmine, a local florist required some fresh soil that needed to be picked up from the dock and delivered to her straight. The commissions didn't take long and I was done very quickly, before the clock even struck 9.

I made my way back towards the Adventurer's guild, waving towards Katheryne from a far.

»I'm back!«

I exclaim excitedly. Katheryne offers me a bright smile, opening her mouth to speak.

»Thank you for completing Today's commissions. Here is your reward.«

I grab the pouch she holds out to me and flinch due to it's weight.

»A-Ah! Thank you!«

I grin and straighten a little then look around. People were beginning to wake up, go about their day and open up shops. I turn back to Katheryne and stare at her for a second then ask.

»Do you know if anybody's offering jobs of any kind for a little income?«

She thinks for a second then nods, giving me a reassuring smile.

»Well I believe the Northland bank is still searching! Best of luck if you do choose to give it a try!«

I freeze and look around. The Northland bank? Still? It's been a week and the spot hasn't been filled yet? There's no way I'd even get the job if no other has been able to in the past week! Still I believe there's no other choice I have.. Katheryne would've mentioned it if there were any other job offers available but I doubt there is since she hasn't mentioned anything. I slowly make my way towards the plaza hoping and praying to the Tsaritsa and any Celestial force that might hear my prayers to bless me with a job that is NOT working at the Northland bank.

I round the corner, passing by the local bakery and spot a younger girl standing by the notice board, either taking something off or nailing a poster to the board, I wasn't sure. I approach her slowly before making my presence known as to not startle her.

»Hey! Morning..«

I say and she turns around to look at me then offers me a friendly smile.

»Mornin'«

I now stand next to her and look over at the board confirming my suspicions. She indeed was taking a poster off, the one for the local flower shop. I tried applying for a simple cashier job there but I was too late and the place was taken before I could even ask about the offer. I sigh, spotting the last job poster on the board and my heartbeat speeds up a bit. I groan and the lady looks over at me, worriedly.

»You alright, ma'am?«

She asks and I nod, apologizing.

»Indeed, I apologize, I'm just having terrible luck looking for a job.«

She hums, nodding.

»Good luck, hey the Northland bank seems to still have an open spot? Considered checking it out?«

»I have but I doubt it's smart to get involved with the Fatui..«

»That is true.. well best of luck!«

She wishes me a good day and I return the kind words, watching her disappear around the block. I stare at the board. Town info, news reports, missing person posters, the board was filled with crap like that yet no job offers. I snatch the Northland bank poster, ripping it off and turn towards home, deciding that perhaps this was my last chance. I'll put on my best clothes and warmest smile and hope for the best.

_____

I stand before the large doors, shuddering at the thought that if luck's on my side today there might just be a chance I'd have to pass them every day. I take a moment to collect myself then slowly push the pine doors open, taking my first step inside. The warmth hits me in the face immediately and I stop for a moment, taking in the warm air and sweet smell. The Bank smells like a bakery would and it isn't as loud as one would think. People are speaking in hushed tones and keeping to themselves, not one dares to speak up. The place is clean, and I mean clean. Even the plants look perfect!

I step up to the front desk and the secretary looks up from the papers, giving me a warm smile.

»Good afternoon! How may I help you?«

She asks in a tone so cheery I didn't think was possible.  I look around for a brief moment then back to her, forcing myself to return the gesture.

»I heard you were offering a job?«

Her cheery facade drops and she stares at me, dumbfounded. I wasn't sure whether she was about to laugh seeing as somebody like me was definitely not fit to work in a bank, or because I was ballsy enough to actually show up to the bank without hesitation and ask about the job? I mean the poster was up for a long while therefore I'm guessing nobody realllllyyy wanted to even think about taking up the offer.

»M-Ma'am?«

I stutter and freeze up when she suddenly snaps out of whatever trance she was in and her warm smile returns.

»A-Apologies..! Come with me!«

She doesn't ask for my information, for even my name nor what the job would be other than working behind a desk! She just asks me to follow after her and seeing as I hold no authority over her I do not really have the right to stop her and ask her pointless questions that have a chance of getting answered even after I follow her.

We make our way up a looped staircase onto the first floor which is connected to a balcony that overlooks the bank. Every millimeter of the bank walls is covered in golden and wooden details, gems and crystals of different kinds. Even the floor looks expensive and neatly polished. I heard that the maids get paid quite a lot and they don't have to deal with customers or any of the Fatui officials therefore I wonder how much I will get paid for doing both! I could salivate at the thought of how well I'll fix up my little house with the hard earned money but I decided to push those thoughts away seeing as there's a chance I'll jinx myself and not get the job if I think about it too hard. I focus my attention back onto the bank worker and offer her a soft smile as she opens the glass double doors for me, the ones we stopped in front of after leading me down a maze of hallways.

»One of our employers should be in right now, they'll take it over from here. Best of luck, Comrade!«

She says and turns on her heel, leaving me alone. I take a deep breath before creaking the door open slowly, dipping one foot inside the room then following with my whole body and finally the other foot. I now stand inside the room my attention immediately falling onto the circular desk in the middle of the room. Behind it sit three ladies, all facing away from each other, a slim pillar extending outward towards the ceiling stands in the very middle. Their desk looks awfully messy and they seem to be in a rush. I step over and greet the black haired one, offering her a smile although I do not get one in return.

»Make it quick please, I'm busy.«

She chews on a piece of gum rather loudly, clicking the pen impatiently. I stutter but step closer, placing my ID onto the table.

»[Last name][Name], [Age], I saw you guys were looking for a secretary and was wondering whether there was any chance it was still open. I'll be honest I have no work experience in this field and don't really know what the job of a secretary involves... b-but I learn very quickly...!«

She stares at me and sighs, shaking her head. Her demeanor went from annoyed to tired in an instant and she didn't seem so hostile anymore.

»No experience you say? Ughh... erm.. well this job requires a lot of running around and a good memory s—«

I cut her off immediately, scrambling to catch my words. She shoots me a glance but doesn't stop me.

»That's no problem, really.. ! O-Oh and I remember things quickly!«

She nods, signalling that she indeed was listening as she writes something down.

»Well you'll have to wait because we were ju—«

Just as she was about to finish speaking she gets interrupted for the second time, this time not daring to look a bit annoyed. Through one of the hallways enters..

The Regator

The doors opened by Fatui Skrimishers as they escort him into the room and he sets eyes on one of the desk workers, unfortunately exactly the one I was speaking to.

»You!«

One of the Skrimishers calls out and she yelps.

»M-Me..?«

The Skrimisher walks over, slapping a pile of reports onto her table.

»Go make a copy for each and every one of these separately, now!«

The Regator stares at us intently and she looks up at him, then at me and finally at the Skrimisher.

»But.. M-My Lord.. I was tending to this young lady, she's here for an interview..!«

His smile twists into a large grin upon hearing those words and he finally speaks, his voice silky smooth.

»Wonderful, I'll take over from here.«

He purrs and I freeze. Take over? I'll get interviewed by The Regator himself? This is a joke..

I step back towards the desk and stare at the man who takes a step closer, eyes narrowing.

»Chop, chop! I don't have all day.«

He says, his tone changing immediately. He moves past us towards the back of the room where stands an impressive set of double doors which leads to another hallway. The Regator looks over his shoulder and I jump, realizing I have to follow and not just stare! We enter another expensively decorated room which seemed to serve as a waiting room. At the very far right wall stood yet another set of doors. I wonder how many this place even has. The Skrimishers open the door for the 9th and he steps inside. I hesitate for a second but just for a second as the next moment I am standing inside of the office, doors closed behind me. I was shoved inside and didn't really have a choice.

»Well then? I sure don't have all day. Come on, sit.«

His demeanor changed immediately, his smile gone and his eyes cold, staring daggers through my form. I approach slowly and pull the cushioned chair out, cringing at the sound it makes as it scrapes against the floor. I cautiously sit down and The Regator leans back, pulling out a blank form from one of his drawers.

»Let's make this quick. I'll need a full name and age, address, previous work experience..«

He continues on but I don't really listen to him, more than what not staring at the blank form. Would my picture go there? Why do they need so much information? What would happen if I just refused and got out of here. He snaps me out of my thoughts as he clears his throat.

»Are you still with me?«

He's becoming irritated.

»My apologies, My Lord.«

»Ah so you can speak after all.«

He grins, sliding me the sheet.

»Make sure to be quick, we'll have to interview you properly.«

I nod and swallow nervously as I rake my eyes over the sheet of paper. He holds out a pen, his long slender fingers adorned with all kinds of rings and jewels. He smiles, although his smile unlike the other employees' wasn't warm and welcoming, more like threatening. I return the smile awkwardly as I take the pen, focusing back on the paper. There wasn't much to fill out except for personal information. Why would my work place need my address? My previous one sure as hell did not, so why now? Well perhaps it was to mail me the check, but still I can collect it at work!

»[Name]..«

He mumbles as he watches me write my name down. I look up immediately and he grins, waving me off.

»Is there a problem, M-My Lord..?«

»Oh don't you worry your pretty head off, nothing's wrong, continue on.«

I hum and skip through the attention notice, then finish the task I was given. I lay the pen down and look back up. He's focused on the sheet rather intently. He reaches forward, sliding it over the desk and I freeze. Oh right, he actually has to read this. His eyes scan the page and he frowns. Oh no..

»Antique shop manager? That's unfortunate.«

»I— Is there a problem...?«

»I don't think your past work experience matches what we are looking for. Quite unfortunate I must say.«

He sighs and stands up and my heart drops. Wait.. so I didn't get it? But..!

»W—Wa— My Lord! I seriously need this job I..«

I cannot believe I'm begging for a job I was at first hesitant to even apply for but at this point it is my last chance, the only means of survival.

»Oh really? Do tell me why this position should be granted to exactly you over every other person twice as experienced as you.«

As experienced as me? For fucks sake it's just some numbers! I grit my teeth and look at him, knowing I'd regret my words immediately.

»What every other person? As far as I've noticed I'm the only one applying for this job, no other was in line behind me!«

His smile falls and I freeze yet again.

»Oh?«

»I— W—«

He slams his hands onto the table and stands up, I gulp.

»You've got guts to bark out against a harbinger, I'll give you that.«

I melt into my chair as I watch him round the table, staring down at my form.

»Not only you decide to go against my word and my beliefs you as well try to demand things from me?«

»I—«

»So tell me, Gem. Why should a job as highly paying as this go to somebody lowly like you?«

»M-My Lord..«

He scoffs and stops before me, leaning against the desk just two or so feet away from me. I look up and he grins widely for what feels like the 100th time, knowing I'm afraid and won't even think about acting out again.

»W-Well.. a tree fell and some windows cracked.. I— I have been barely s-surviving...I—«

I stare at my feet, fumbling with my hands. I know there's no chance of redemption now but all I can do is pray. He hums, grabbing my face and I flinch, staring up at him in disbelief. The cold metal of his rings digs into my face and I grimace at the feeling.

»I have an idea how we could fix this mishap..«

I try to pull away but he grabs at his belt and I think I've got just the Idea.

___

He pulls at my hair, bringing my head back as I gasp for air. Tears run freely down my cheeks as I choke on his precum and my own saliva, barely catching a breath before he brings my head back down, stuffing my mouth.

»Yo-You know— haah..«

He bites at his lips before pulling my head off again.

»I usually don't do this but.. celestia.. I couldn't help myself..«

I sob as he brings me up by my collar, chasing my mouth with his own. He groans as our lips connect, moving together furiously, melting into each other. A string of saliva connects us as he pulls away, the scene is absolutely filthy.

»The way you looked up at me.. dear Tsaritsa.. haa—«

He groans as I trace my hand up his length and attempt sink back to my knees to finish what I've started but he stops me, gripping my arm before I could. I look up at him again and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Suddenly I'm flipped around and over his desk as he grips my hair, forcing me forward. I gasp as he grips my hips, leaning over my body.

»You know... I'm tempted to sign you up as my personal assistant right about now. You'd like that, wouldn't you?«

He says as he slowly slides pulls my pants down, slapping my ass.

»I asked you a question.«

He grips my throat and shoves me further into the table and I cry out. His cold rings making me shiver.

»Y-Yes! I would love to—«

He slaps me again, this time harder before pulling my undergarments off with such force I swear to everything I own I could have heard a rip. I can hear the grin on his face as he speaks again, fingers tracing my opening.

»I'm sure of it..«

He slides his fingers inside my heat, curling them upwards and I jolt, sobbing into my hand.

»We'll have to train you then, you said you were a fast learner? Did I hear that right?«

I simply nod but he frowns, not that I could see it, of course. He removes his fingers with a whine from my side and smacks my ass again, hard enough to leave a mark.

»I expect a proper answer whenever I ask you a question.«

»Y-Yes! Ye—ees My Lord!«

He grins again, rubbing the spot he just struck.

»Wonderful, don't you worry I'll call off my next meeting then we'll have plenty of time!« ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Written by DottoreEnjoyer69 on AO3

[hawkland]

SciFi Valley Con, what a weekend!

I need to share this somewhere because it was all so amazing, I'm still a bit dazed .

First, behold this set up, because holy shit was it a lot of work!

So, on to the details. Back in Charlotte, I'd promised both DJ and Ruth tote bags with my Garth & Rowena art, respectively (they'd seen other people carrying them around but I'd sold out before they stopped by looking for one.) Didn't know if they'd actually remember BUT Friday at SFVC was fairly slow so I went to get my autographs and hunt them down. First I went up to DJ who, as soon as he saw the tote bag, came rushing out from behind his table to give me a big hug. "I don't care if it's egotistical I'm carrying this around all weekend!" All Friday he had it out on his table, too, so that it ended up in one of the con's promo videos on Instagram.

Next up was Rick...who was just a doll, taking his time with each and every person! I was just going to get an autograph for myself but as soon as I showed him the painting he was just literally speechless for a while, came around to give me a hug, asked his handler to take that picture he posted on Instagram, I gave him a print and we chatted a bit but I felt bad taking up too much time. (I did go back on Sunday to get an autograph for Mr. Hawkland's office and totally cracked him up with my/our usual request for something mentioning feet, since the hubster is a podiatrist.)

Then I saw Ruth briefly had no line so I dashed over and handed her her bag and she was immediately all "Oh! Oh! Emily, come over here!" (Emily Swallow was signing the next station over.) "This is the artist who has that lovely painting of the two of us I was showing you!"

I'm now like....wait a minute...they're showing each other MY ART?!?!?! I knew Ruth liked the piece — it was the one I did for the femmeslash bang claimed by @father-salmon — Emily immediately slips out from her table where she had a long line and was like, "Hi I'm Emily" to shake my hand and I'm like OMFG I KNOW YOU ARE and they were just both being so sweet I could've cried. Ruth was asking if it would be ok if they made copies of that piece available for signing (like, absolutely?!?! I'M the one skirting the edge selling these prints...) Anyway, Ruth let me pick out a picture to get signed for free, I ran back to my table to get the new Amara piece I'd done signed by Emily and to print her prints of each. And she wouldn't even let me pay for getting it autographed either, just was being so kind, I mentioned how Season 11 is my favorite and how much I've come to enjoy Amara every time I rewatch and then she wouldn't let me leave without a hug. *sob* Saturday morning she even stopped by the table to look at more of my stuff up close and tell me how Ruth was carrying her bag around everywhere.

Oh and Sunday morning before we opened for the day, I'd just set up and stepped out to get something to drink, come back in and Mark Sheppard is at my table by my Crowley prints and postcards talking with his handler. He was like "Yeah I've signed a lot of these" and was surprised the big banner print hadn't sold yet (so was I). He actually remembered signing the original paintings back in Pittsburg 2-3 years ago, I do not know how he remembers these things.

Anyway. Sales were kind of meh since the crowd was only very partially an SPN crowd BUT I cannot remember having such wonderful interactions with guests/actors ever like this. It's a little freaky because it hit that the Creation con regulars (DJ, Ruth, Mark) definitely know & remember me. And I guess that's a good thing? I suppose we'll see how it all unfolds next year as this was my last con for 2024 (next year I'm planning on doing SPN Boston, New Jersey, Novi, Philly and maybe Chicago too.)

[catoz0]

Hello! So the following paragraphs of rambling text are from an alternate au of sorts that I am currently working on, certain bits and ideas are sticking to the inside of my head like cotton so Ive decided to write some of them out in the hopes that it helps me in developing this universe further. For a quick and simple ( but not super accurate honestly) explanation Evan, Williams youngest son survives the incident with Fredbear and Michael does not, so he takes the place of his brother in this series and he is currently aiding Henry in his final plan when, ignoring Henrys protests he drops into the tunnels to fix one of the lures when he encounters a certain someone, I hope to be able to show more of this Au soon as its very dear to me, Enjoy!

A Hug From Dad

“Hello” Evan says for want of anything better.

The hallway is long and undecorated, a narrow expanse of unlit tunnels many feet underground.

Something built for function rather than aesthetic

It does make the situation more creepy especially given the other occupant of the hallway.

It was tall which coming from Evan didn't mean much granted but still. Once golden fur had decayed and rotted to a sickly green colour, made even more garish by the harsh light of Evans torch. Teeth bore in a permanent smile gleaming in the low light. Crooked and mismatched ears swayed as it tilted its head, its eyes despite not being submerged in the ray of light gleamed in the darkness anyway.

The rabbit did not respond to Evans call

Evan is clutching the radio in his hand so hard it he can feel the plastic creaking in protest. Ignoring the desperate rabbiting of his own heartbeat Evan speaks again.

“Sorry for disturbing you, I was just down here to do some General maintenance, mind if I get past you?”

Calm Evan thinks. he needs to stay calm. They expect screaming and when they don't get it it confuses them, it had worked with Hive ( at least for a while) so it might work here, he just needs to breathe

The rabbit doesn't answer him

It simply stands there drinking in the sight of him, eyes aglow in the darkness

Evan breathes out and then in he opens his mouth to try again again but before he can, the rabbit finally speaks

It simply says one word

His name.

Evan stops, freezing on the spot.

Yous see the thing is Evan doesn't know for a certainty who is in there, he knows for a certainty that it is haunted by someone he has theories and suspicions but with Fazbear entertainments tendency to keep certain things for ever reaching the public getting numbers our accurate stats from them is next to impossible.

Certain stats like say, how many staff have died under their employment

As loathe as he was to admit it being an Afton occasionally had its perks, but even that hadn't been enough sometimes.

Something among many he really doesn't like to dwell on

Evan takes a breath again, in and out. He just has to stay calm.

“Did Hive tell you my name? I'm guessing they were mumbling about me, I think they're still at mad at me because of”

“Evan” he says again. “Evan darling”

Evan stops, stops completely. Horror is engulfing him. Pieces of a picture coming together to an image that Evan doesn't want to look at. Memories and images spiralling together to a truth that he cannot deny or escape coming up to consume him whole

Spring Bonnie was always his favourite

“Dad” he whispers hoarsely

He seemingly takes that as his cue to begin walking towards him, he walks as if it takes effort lurching forward at a pace that Evan thinks he could outrun. Evan is quicker than he looks small and nimble, if the rest of his movements are as stilted and awkward as his walk then Evan should be able to dodge past

He could

He can

Evan doesn't move

His Father reaches him, Evan still has to crane his neck up to meet his eyes

He reaches out to him, and Evan doesn't flinch. Even as his rotted hands encircle him.

Even as his hands pull him in, slowly and gently.

Either Evan was on to something with his movements being stilted and awkward or he's savouring the moment

He pulls him against his chest Evan bring his hands up automatically fingers digging into the suits rotted fur, some of it detaches completely clumping under his fingernails. Evan shudders at the feeling but otherwise still doesn't react. His fathers pulls him even closer

His grip isn't quite painful but its close.

One of his hands begin to card through his hair, bone and metal gently tangling through the mess of curls on the back of his head as he clutches him close

Evan is still, eye pinned wide as his fingers dig into his fathers suit, the smell is abhorrent but Evan just cant move

He feels the costumes mouth gently touch the top of his head jaws opening slightly, a mimicry of the kiss his companion had gifted him with so long ago

And that, that is what breaks the moment, breaks the moment of calm and Evan suddenly cant breathe hands twisting into the suits ragged surface as his eye fills with tears, breath coming in gasps.

His father makes a sound, something quiet and desperate as his grip tightens on him and it finally vaults over the line of uncomfortable and lands in painful, ribs protesting against the treatment.

But then the radio in his hand shrieks a wave of noise that causes his Father to recoil, enough for Evans thrashing to set him free, pulling away Evan turns and bolts

Evan Afton with tears in his eyes and fur under his fingernails runs from the desolate silhouette of his Father

As he is turning the corner, Evan not consciously aware that he's doing it turns his head to look back. Some part of him, a part that sounds a lot like Charlie is hissing for him to stop to just keep looking ahead and keep going.

He looks back anyway

Later that night as he curls in bed and traces the dark shadows of his fathers affection bruising his ribs Evan will think of that final image

The image of his Father illuminated in the twilight of the hallway, head tilted.

With one of his arms outstretched delicately waving goodbye.

[watercolor-hearts]

Maxiel prompts idea

Something sweet with the cats in it

At the factory, them being cute while they need to work or during a meeting something like that

With their family

“At the factory, them being cute [...]” Well... I've been in a hurt/comfort and/or angst mood since the Singapore GP so I couldn't really write anything cute, I don't know if it's because I'm almost always sad and exhausted or because of something else but yeah, for some reason it's not easy nowadays. But I still wanted to write something because I didn't want you to have to wait even longer. So yeah. A bit of hurt/comfort with Daniel, Max and Simon. I hope you'll still like it. Thank you for the prompts. 😊❤

Max&Daniel • 534 words • sad Daniel • (after the) first sim session at Red Bull • emotional hurt/comfort • light angst • hugs • supportive characters • Ao3 link

-

“Daniel!” Max exclaimed as he noticed Daniel coming out of the sim room in the factory. Daniel looked at him and smiled, not wanting to show the disappointment he felt after his first session.

“Maximus, hi,” Daniel greeted after getting closer to him, opening his arms for a hug which Max reciprocated immediately.

“Good to see you here. How was the sim?”

Daniel gulped, thinking about whether he should tell the truth. “It was… Difficult.”

Max's eyes grew huge after hearing Daniel's confession, “Wha—Why? Is there something wrong?”

“It's just…” Daniel shook his head, “It's just me. I'm the problem.”

“B-but… No, Daniel,” Max said firmly, looking around, “Where is Simon? I need to talk to him. He of course cannot say something like this when it was just your first time after years.”

Daniel put his hand on Max's arm to stop him, “He didn't say it. I said it. I… I need a break,” Daniel said, his voice sounded so broken it broke Max's heart into small pieces. “We're… We're working on it. It's just a bit difficult with my… Driving style now. It's not the same as it used to be.”

“Fucking Mc—” Max wanted to say but Daniel cut him by putting his finger on Max's lips.

“Don't say it. It doesn't matter anymore.”

“It does, Daniel! They fucked you up. They did you dirty and they didn't appreciate you enough.”

“I couldn't deliver.”

“First win in ten years?”

“One good moment in two years.”

“Fuck y—,” Max almost said but instead he just sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, fuck me, thanks mate,” Daniel agreed, “I guess I should go now.”

As Daniel took a step towards the door, Max grabbed his t-shirt. He couldn't let him sink into depressive thoughts again.

“I still believe in you, Daniel,” Max said, looking straight into Daniel's sad brown eyes, “I do and I want you to believe in yourself too. Please. You have your engineer back, you will figure it out again. I know you will. Believe in yourself, please,” Max asked, pulling Daniel into a hug and not planning to let him go for a few long seconds.

“Max's right, Daniel,” came a familiar voice, Simon's, from not so far away, and when he got closer, he squeezed Daniel's shoulder to show some support, “You'll figure it out. We will figure it out. We're a team. You have me, Max, Christian, and everyone. We'll help. We believe in you and you have to believe in yourself to make this work.”

“Thank you,” Daniel murmured, slowly looking up at Simon, “I'll try to.”

“We'll leave all those bad habits you picked up in the last few years. Give yourself time and don't be so hard on yourself, alright?”

“Y-yeah,” Daniel nodded, going for a hug with Simon after Max had let go of him. “Thank you for believing in me. I'll try and find the honey badger in me. The good ol’ honey badger. He's there somewhere.”

“Good,” Simon nodded, patting Daniel's shoulder after the hug and then he turned to Max to do the same with him. “Go and have a rest, guys, you deserve it. See you next time.”

[idy-ll-ique]

They Always Do.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: insecurity

Requested: Nope

Summary: "you're not worried? he seems to be spending a lot of time with her..." "no" "why not?" "because i braced myself for this months ago. they leave, they always do. it's nothing new"

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! The first part of this fic is fluff, angst in the middle, fluff again at the end. Nothing too extreme, just a little one-shot. Enjoy!

---

"Sebastian, Y/N, so glad you made it!" Susan Downey smiled warmly at the couple. "Of course, we couldn't miss the 56th birthday of the one and only Iron Man," Sebastian chuckled, walking into the house with his girlfriend. He put his arm around Y/N, observing the place. "Guys! Hello!" they heard.

"Mr Downey," Y/N greeted politely, turning to smile at the birthday boy. "You must be the girlfriend," he grinned, pulling her into a bear hug. "Yep, that's me." Then he turned to Sebastian, frowning. "Why didn't you introduce her to everyone sooner?" Y/N laughed as Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging.

"Don't ask me, she was the one too chicken to meet you!" Sebastian defended himself, narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend. She snorted as Robert let go of her, returning to Sebastian's side. "I guess that's on me," she sighed dramatically, making both men laugh. "Well, enjoy yourselves! Have a drink, have fun!"

With that, he walked away. Sebastian noticed a server holding up a tray of drinks and called him over. He handed a glass to Y/N and took one for himself, taking a sip. "Thanks for bringing me over, honey," Y/N smiled and he turned to her, scoffing. "You're my girlfriend! God knows they were dying to meet you," he laughed, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

With that they went around the place, talking to new people, old friends and making new acquaintances. Y/N had a lot of fun meeting Sebastian's co-stars, and especially loved Elizabeth Olsen. Y/N was a huge Marvel fan and one of her favorite works of the MCU was WandaVision. Y/N had fangirled a bit, not gonna lie.

Like that passed an hour. After her feet started hurting, Sebastian decided it was time for the woman to sit down, have a drink and chill out. "Okay doll, here's a glass of champagne, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call me, okay? I'm going there, with Chris and Anthony. I love you." She smiled when he gave her a quick kiss.

"I love you too, and don't worry, I'll find you easy. This place isn't that big."

"I heard that!"

Laughing at her antics, Sebastian gave his girlfriend one more loving kiss before prancing out of the room in search of his best friends, Chris Evans and Anthony Mackie. Y/N relaxed on the comfortable couch with a sigh, sipping on her drink. It all began a year ago, very cheesily, might I add.

Y/N was at her favourite coffee shop when he had walked in. Immediately, fans had him surrounded, but she didn't go over to him. She stayed seated, looking at him, wishing she could go over but she knew how stressful fan interactions were for celebrities. Sebastian had, unfortunately, caught her eye and she had turned beet red, burying her face in her laptop.

He had found her absolutely winsome and after the crowd around him had dissipated, he had wandered over to her table and introduced himself. She was flustered around him, which made him tingly inside. And he had blurted out, "Wanna meet here next Saturday at 7?" They kept their promise and that's how they started dating.

A year ago.

That was a healthy amount of time.

Right?

Y/N couldn't help but have her doubts. All her previous relationships were pathetic failures, where the guy usually got bored of her within 3 months. But now, she had braced herself for rejection (which she knew deep down wasn't coming but it pays to be careful). "Hey."

Startled, she turned to see a kinda young, kinda drunk woman sitting next to her, looking up at her with doe eyes. "Hi," Y/N smiled back politely. "You're— you're the woman!" She had started slurring her words, which made Y/N frown a bit. "I'm… what?" she blinked. "The girl! Who came over with Sebastian Stan, you're his girlfriend!" The woman laughed loudly.

A few heads turned towards them but quickly looked away when they realized that the girl was drunk. "Yep, that's me. Why?" Y/N was now amused. As they talked, she didn't notice Sebastian walking into the room. He had come back to ask Y/N something but had paused in his tracks when he saw her frowning at the young, drunk woman.

Then he inched closer, unabashedly eavesdropping on her conversation. "Yep, saw him spending a lot of time with Ms Lizzie Olsen. If he was mine, girl, I would take that man home and show him who truly belongs to him, if you know what I mean," the girl winked and a sad smile bloomed on Y/N's face. "They're good friends, of course they're gonna spend time together."

Sebastian smiled at her answer. He knew she was different, she didn't get easily jealous and he liked that, since it reduced the number of arguments they had by a lot. His jealousy? Well, that's a story for another time… "You don't mind? He seems to be spending a lot of time with her…" the drunk woman frowned at Y/N.

Well, she was drunk, she wouldn't remember this night anyway, so maybe… it would be good to get some things off her chest.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I braced myself for this months ago. They leave, they always do. It's nothing new," Y/N admitted, swirling the champagne that was swimming in her half-full glass. Sebastian's heart shattered into a million pieces at her words. Before the words were even completely out of her mouth, tears had started stinging in his eyes.

"Y/N?" Startled yet again, Y/N turned to see Sebastian smiling at her. "Seb! Hi, thought you were with your friends!" she grinned at him. "I— uh— something came up, we need to go," he spoke quietly, fidgeting with his hands. Y/N's brows furrowed but she got up, collecting her coat and her purse.

"Can we at least say Happy Birthday to Robert?"

"Yeah, yeah of course." Sebastian managed a weak smile when she gave him a kiss on the cheek, going off to find Robert and Susan. She told them something urgent came up and they allowed the couple to leave. "Seb, let's go!" He followed her out of the house, meekly trailing behind her, the words she said ringing in his ears.

They leave, they always do. It's nothing new.

How had this woman, practically a Goddess, had such bad experiences that she was forced to think that way? He was never going to leave her, having found the perfect woman at last. He got into the driver's seat of his car, and the car ride home was quiet. Y/N was getting anxious. What happened to him? Did something happen at the party?

Once they were home, Sebastian couldn't help himself. "S—" Y/N yelped when he crushed her to his body, hugging her tightly. He took both of them to their shared bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her on his lap and buried his face in her chest, breaking down. "Seb, honey, what's wrong?" Y/N cooed, getting insanely paranoid.

The crying didn't stop for 15 minutes. Y/N, in a futile attempt to get him to stop, was running a hand through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, holding him close. When he took in a shuddering breath, he pulled away and finally looked Y/N in her eyes. "Now are you going to tell me what happened?" she smiled gently.

He took her hand, pressing a kiss to her wrist. "I'm sorry," he croaked out and Y/N frowned. "Sorry for what?" He shook his head, burying his face back in his safe haven. Except, Y/N wasn't having any of that. She pulled him away and dropped a soft kiss to his forehead. "Tell me what happened."

He took in another shaky breath.

"I… I heard you."

"Heard me?" Y/N blinked. "Yes. You were… you were talking to that girl on the couch and she was— she was talking about how I seem to be spending a lot of time with Lizzie and you— you said you didn't mind but she kept on insisting and you said they leave. they always do. I'm not going to leave you, Y/N, I promise. You're one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I'm not letting you go."

Oh.

"Seb," Y/N whispered, her own eyes now filled to the brim with tears. "Don't cry," he chuckled with a watery voice, wiping her tears off. "It's just— all my relationships before you… the guys were assholes. They always left 2-3 months in. I— I wasn't taking any chances with you, you know… plus, you're kind of a famous guy and you can get so many better women—"

He didn't want to hear it. Better than Y/N? Impossible. He pressed his lips to her, immediately deepening the kiss when she reciprocated. "I promise you, I cannot do any better than you." Y/N smiled shyly at his words and his heart filled with happiness. "Let's go to sleep."

Both of them tired from the crying, they got undressed without trying any funny business. Y/N put on her usual pair of shorts and one of Sebastian's huge t-shirts, getting into the bed where a boxer-clad Sebastian already lay. He pulled her into his arms and she rested her head on his chest, draping an arm around his taut abdomen.

"Comfy?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, doll, I love you."

"I love you too, Seb. Goodnight."

"...Never gonna leave you."

"Not a chance."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you liked it!

[chockfullofsecrets]

"If I'm not careful I'm gonna end up writing content for a character who literally never appears in 141 episodes"

I mean, you are more than welcome to. In fact, we will gratefully encourage this.

you encourage chock? you encourage chock like the author? oh! oh! tk fic for anon! tk fic for anon for Two Thousand Words!

(also, heads up that i am moving next week! have been working on Importance of Timing when i can, but the first chapter probably won't be here for another two weeks at least.)

---

Verin Thelyss, Essek knows, is a seasoned battle commander and strategist.

He’s also in possession of the instinct to tackle people when he’s excited, so Essek is well aware that it’s only those decades of training and experience that have his little brother pausing for the briefest instant as Caleb and Jester teleport him into the hold of the Nein Heroez before he launches himself at Essek in a dead run.

Veth and Caduceus are at their respective homes, Kingsley watching over the ship, but he is far from alone - Yasha and Fjord each have a supportive hand on his shoulder, a silent assurance from the tense minutes waiting for their friends to return from Bazzoxan. They swear in unison and scramble for their weapons as Verin screeches to a halt just shy of shunting Essek straight though the hull and yanks him into a rib-crushing hug.

He burrows into the junction of Essek’s neck and shoulder, made possible only by virtue of the activated floating spell that puts the coiffed swoop of his hair a full inch above Verin’s. “Thank the fucking Light, you’re not actually dead.”

“What the fuck, he’s like a swearing puppy,” Beau hisses. There’s a soft thwap as Fjord gently smacks her across the back of the head.

Essek is feeling out the edges of friendly intimacy, still, stumbling through every brush of fingers and shared look of exasperation, but even he does not need Jester’s frantic gesturing to prompt him to lift his arms and awkwardly wrap them around Verin’s shoulders.

It’s like wrapping a single thread of silk around one of Yasha’s biceps. Clearly he is not built for comforting.

Verin stiffens with a single sharp twitch of his ear against Essek’s collarbone . Essek’s thoughts flail wildly between an expectation of tears or a dagger to his ribs, but his brother just laughs, loud and hearty, and snuggles even further into his personal space. “I see someone’s finally taught you how to hug back - you should have written and told me, this is better news than any number of pages on den politics.”

Essek bristles. “Careful, or I will stop,” he huffs, somewhat more waspishly than he intends to.

Luckily, Verin has proven immune to his moods. “Oh, please don’t,” he insists, voice still crackling with glee. He grins, warm and wide enough that Essek can feel it against the side of his neck. “It just makes doing this that much easier.”

“Doing what,” Essek says reflexively, even as the tiny portion of his brain that he allows to remember his childhood starts to blare an alarm. “Verin-”

It’s far too late to realize that Verin’s hands have somehow been maliciously positioned just along the backs of his ribs.

Jester, standing with Caleb behind Verin, perks up in clear interest as the corners of his mouth start to twitch up. On second thought, Essek thinks he’d have preferred the dagger.

“Verin,” he hisses again, fighting back the anticipatory shiver crawling up his back. “Don’t - don’t you dare-”

It’s about then that Verin’s evil, evil fingers find the edges of his mantle’s arm slits and squeeze him even closer as they stretch to wriggle under his arms.

He snatches his arms back, but it’s too late - a dismayed giggle sneaks from his throat, then another, and then he’s beating helplessly at Verin’s shoulders as he dissolves into high, squeaking laughter.

Every single nerve between his armpits and his ribs squirms in unison - a bubbly, slippery sensation even more potent for how long it’s been since he last felt it. “No,” he shrieks. “I - ahaha! eeheee! - no tickling, no tickling, Verin-”

Jester looks thrilled - she’s bouncing on her toes, babbling something to Caleb that’s inaudible over the rush of his own laughter. Light, the Nein are going to tear him apart for this-

“Yes, tickling,” Verin protests, laughing right along with him. “All the tickling! You let me think you were dead! For months! I thought I was never going to get to watch my poor brother giggle himself to pieces ever again!”

He’s not, because Essek is going to kill him. “That - nahaha, hff, ahaaa! - that was - ha - it’s been decades - stop, stop, there’s people!”

“Yeah, people,” Beau says, loud and smug and far too close behind him. “Hey - Verin, was it? - does hotboi here have a worst spot?”

Oh no. Oh no. Essek squeezes his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to focus and does the only thing he can while laughing like an idiot.

With a shaky flick of his wrist, his floating dispels. Verin yelps in surprise as gravity takes Essek straight out of his grip.

The instant his boots hit the deck, Essek twists the rest of the way out of his grip and bolts.

There’s nowhere to go, really - the Nein have a room full of Counterspells, and Verin can run faster than he can, and he’s already tumbling halfway back into laughter in giddy anticipation of being caught. Still, it’s a surprise when he stumbles into a brick wall of leather and biceps that resolves itself into Yasha as she hoists him back into the air.

“Oh, where do you think you’re going?” She sounds admirably innocent given the soft, teasing smile she gives him.

“Noooo,” Essek giggles. Heat gathers in his cheeks as he tries to make himself stop - it doesn’t make sense, he’s not even being tickled anymore, but even the potential for it flutters light and fizzy at the bottom of his lungs. “I - I’m not ticklish anymore, I’m not-”

The Nein and Verin cluster around the two of them, bubbling with various levels of amusement. “Really?” Beau drawls. “It’s cute that you think denying it has a single fucking chance of working.”

The sarcasm helps him center himself, if only a little - he buries his face in Yasha’s arm and sucks in a deep breath that doesn’t do nearly enough to get rid of his blush.

He straightens as best he can while being bear hugged by a barbarian. “I am denying nothing,” he says carefully. Jester is still bouncing next to Beau, fingertips already twitching where they’re curled sweetly on her cheeks around a mischievous beaming smile, and Essek has to look away before the nervous snickers still wobbling on the back of his tongue can worm their way free. “I am well aware that Verin is - incorrigible-”

He hisses the last word in his brother’s direction - again, harsher than he intends, but he is so unused to being soft around him - and fails to contain a shy smile as Verin sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

Jester’s tail waves its way into the edge of his peripheral vision. He jumps and looks over at Fjord instead. “-but I, ah, I would ask for more respect from the rest of you-”

“You really shouldn’t,” Fjord says, grinning boyishly back at him. “I mean, you know us.”

And then, to Fjord’s right - “Essek?”

He’s been avoiding looking at Caleb. It is foolish, perhaps, to think that after all of the incredibly stupid things he knows Essek has done he will decide to judge him for this, but he cannot help the way his shoulders stiffen as he twists a little further to meet the gaze of the last link in their semicircle. “Yes?”

Caleb looks - focused, in an offhanded way, like he’s intent on something happening just slightly out of their current reality. Stunned might be a better word for it. He blinks for a moment before focusing those keen blue eyes somewhere near Essek’s eyebrows. “Ah - did you know that when you laugh, your ears -” He puts his hands up to his own ears and flaps them a little.

Drow do not run particularly warm, but that only makes it easier for Essek to feel the heat absolutely flood back into his face. “I-” he stammers. Nearly a century of politics is nowhere near enough to help him keep a straight face. “I - ah - eeh!-”

Caleb is close enough to reach out and run a questing fingertip over Essek’s left ear - it flicks wildly, trying to dislodge the unexpected tickle, but a surprised squeak still slips out.

There’s a moment of silence before Verin starts to snicker. “Oh, I like your friends,” he says merrily, beaming. “Go on, Light knows he doesn’t let himself laugh enough otherwise.”

“Don’t,” Essek gets out hastily, but Caleb is already reaching out for another go and Yasha’s grip is firm enough that all he can do is squeak again. “Wait - hm, hnn!”

Beau sidles up to Yasha’s side and gives him a self satisfied leer as she reaches out across their little group to pluck the feather from Fjord’s tricorn. “You got him, babe?”

“I do,” Yasha confirms and lets out a little squeak of her own as Beau reaches around her, no doubt squeezing something entirely inappropriate with company present.

“Hot,” Beau smirks, and reaches to flutter the feather over Essek’s right ear. “Aw, does that tickle? Thought you said you weren’t ticklish, man.”

Essek maintains some facsimile of composure for all of two seconds before his face crumples “Nnn - hehehe - eheehe - oh!”

His lungs are surely going to burst, with the way they’re shivering out desperate giggles as he shakes his head frantically between Caleb’s fingers and the teasing feather. He can’t move his arms, so he kicks his legs instead. “Please,” he begs, nearly incomprehensible even to his own ears. “Ah - aha, heeheehee! - tickles-”

Verin leans down and scoops his ankles up with one ridiculously sculpted arm. “Essek, you’re going to put a hole in someone with those boots.”

He looks up, raising his eyebrows teasingly, and Essek’s stomach drops like he’s cast something on it. “Here, I’ll fix that.”

Essek’s eyes, narrowed with laughter, shoot wide open. He doesn’t remember Verin being this evil - but then again, his brother’s never been egged on by five other people determined to render reports of his death more realistic.

“Verin, Verin, no-” he tries, but he’s giggling so hard that he can’t even get the words out. He twists as far away from Caleb and Beau as he can, flailing frantically, but Verin’s grip holds firm.

He pouts dramatically. “What? Is it my fault that my tiny, ticklish wizard brother insists on wearing metal-tipped boots that endanger everyone?”

Essek opens his mouth to reply and promptly dissolves into another frantic peal of laughter as Beau gets bored of his ears and shoves her feather in Caleb’s direction before jabbing a finger between his trapped arm and his chest to get at his armpit. “Your - shihihit, shit, ahahaaa, not there! - your arcanist brother is going to kill you just as soon as I can- hahaha!”

Verin just laughs, unlacing one of his boots and starting to slide it off. “Is that your attempt to convince me not to tickle your feet?”

Jester, practically vibrating, emits a sound that perhaps only weasels can hear. “Oh, that’s so cute! Can I have one of them?”

“One of his feet? Sure.” Verin hands over an ankle, grinning down at Jester. “You, I think you’re my favorite.”

As Essek gasps and struggles and falls further and further into a formless mirth that makes him feel so light he can hardly bear it, there’s a different sensation at his ear. A hazy portion of his brain identifies it as the rough bristle of chin scruff and an amused huff of breath.

“You don’t really want them to stop, do you,” Caleb murmurs. “I will help you, if you do.”

It’s quite unfair, Essek feels, to try and make him explain himself while he’s strung out and dizzy with laughter. He tries anyway, for a syllable or two, but Verin digs in between two of his toes and he ends up just tipping his cheek against Caleb’s and shaking, laughing too hard to make a single sound.

“Alright, then,” Caleb says. “In that case-”

He brandishes the feather with a flourish more suited to somatic casting, swooping it down the length of Essek’s nose before directing it back to his ear.

“Tickle, tickle...”

[kaisa-ryo]

Attention deficit (pt. 1)

jujutsu kaisen

Characters: Itadori Yuji, Satoru Gojo, Megumi Fushiguro, Inumaki Toge, Sukuna Ryōmen, Nanami Kento, Suguru Geto

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

Itadori Yuji

Itadori in this situation acts, oddly enough, completely primitive. The less attention he sees from you, the more he tries to get him back. In other circumstances, this might even seem exaggerated, but here and now this is the most critical moment. What does he do? Yes, everything in a row: drops the book, turns its pages, rummages in the bag, humming softly to himself, and so on ... And all this continues until it comes to stroking the hips and lightly squeezing one palm, while the other rewrites the abstract ...

- I miss the old y/n. - he gives out with sadness in his eyes.

At this moment, the game of interest begins: you feel how simultaneously there is a feeling of spontaneous and purposeful manipulation, how you are gently and imperceptibly pushed towards the long-awaited goal.

In such a situation, one could easily succumb, but you, resisting this, answer:

- Yuji, I'm very busy right now.

It would seem that a strong guy fights curses, trains with the strongest shamans, but with ordinary words it is so easy to break.

It's hard for you to realize that right now he is depressed because of you. It's unusual to see a sad Yuji almost always smiling and making others do the same. Especially you.

And so you compromise, intertwining your fingers, frowning slightly and pretending to listen to something inside yourself ... After that, Yuji remains in this position for a long time, as if afraid to frighten you off, because now such closeness between you is too valuable to miss out.

Satoru Gojo

It turns out that sometimes even acting like a fool doesn't help you pay attention to Gojo. First, the way you constantly focus on the same thing, so that the words in your speech get confused, takes on a comic character, and he comes to the idea that, for no reason, for no reason, you decided that work is more important to you than himself. Then you stop paying attention to him altogether. You no longer look at him from under your brows, do not frown at the idiotic jokes with which he is trying to distract you, as it was yesterday. Satoru notices that you are much smaller. He is puzzled and even confused. Finally, it occurs to him that you just have nothing to do, and comes up with the craziest idea to entertain you.

- What are you doing? - a voice of a man sounded nearby, who had been watching you with interest for some time.

There was no answer. However, it is not surprising.

- Okay, okay, you don't have to answer... - He looked away.

This was his usual technique. After asking several meaningless questions, he suddenly fell silent, as if giving you the opportunity to think over the answer properly, and he himself imperceptibly removed, leaving you in complete confusion. But this time, due to the circumstances, the technique had to be slightly changed.

In the next moment, he was already pressing you to him and, taking advantage of this, with his other hand began to explore the curves of your body. The reaction was as if you were doused with boiling water or doused with cold water.

- What are you doing? - You asked in a trembling voice.

- Checking to see if you got fat after we lost sex. - still clinging to you, he answered. You were taken aback and began to push him away from you.

- I have not grown fat, let me go! You barked, feeling his arms tighten. - Let go! Fool! Let go!

Hands rested on your back, and he began to rock you slowly, stretching the moment when you finally stop resisting.

- It's okay, y/n. You just need to calm down. - he whispered, not hearing your words.

There is a mess in my head, the goal of your resistance has fled somewhere, and you start desperately hugging the man while he grins at the fact that he managed to do what he wanted.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi is not one of those who will behave like a child, attracting attention to herself when you do not even know the reason for her loss. He will speak to you as soon as he notices it.

- Do you want to talk about it?

You rub your eyes with fatigue, but you shouldn't ignore Fushiguro's question, because it concerns the two of you. No matter how serious his intentions are, he will always be there to remind you that you can talk to him about what worries you.

- I... will hardly give any good advice, but I will try to make it easier for you after the conversation. Megumi continues after a minute of your silence.

Even such a seemingly small detail as being able to talk to someone else significantly reduces stress and other not-so-good emotions. And the guy knows it.

- You can always count on my help. - already with a drop of confidence he says, and it's like the touch of a soft, pleasant hand on your shoulder. Of course, he does this primarily because he is worried, but this is only a secret cover for the fact that he is upset that you turned away from him, without noticing the real reason.

"Fushiguro, if I do this, I don't know... I... will feel like this..." The words elude you. It’s hard to even think about what you’ll say next.

The guy spreads his arms to give you room to hug and apologize, but you just put your head on his shoulder. You don't want to talk about anything else. The chest against which your head is pressed turns into a pillow. And then a quiet voice is heard:

- I'm not mad at you. You can stay here as long as you like.

But here you won't need anything as long as Fushiguro is around.

Inumaki Toge

Not surprisingly, the first thought that comes to him is "it's all because of the damned speech."

Does he talk to you too little? Maybe he is too quiet and invisible for you? Perhaps you are afraid that someday he will take control of you? From such questions echoing in my head, my jaws come together and a lump appears in my throat. But the worst thing is that Toge begins to doubt his right to meet with you, because he cannot even talk to you with dignity, as a person to a person. Even your sweet persistence, which sometimes breaks through the boundaries of ordinary attempts to turn the conversation back on track, does not help. As a result, when it comes to your attention deficit, he begins to think that all this time you did not notice him, as if he was one of those whom you forgot on the first day.

- Okaka? - the young man has been trying to attract your attention with his eyes for a long time, but it seems that even words cannot help.

- Sorry, Toge. I'm not in the mood today...

The guy was actually a perfectionist and would rather have your smile shine every day. I wish he could turn back time right now, scroll to the moment when something went wrong and fix it at any cost.

Inumaki tucked a lock of your hair behind his ear to see your face behind it. He knew you had flawless skin and plump, sensual lips. He would admire your face for hours.

The next second, the blond rested his head on your lap, looking into your eyes. You liked such cute things from him. They weren't vulgar or inappropriate. They were what she needed.

You smile faintly and stroke the hair on the back of his head, touching his cheek with your fingertips.

Sukuna Ryōmen

This is the case when Sukuna uses passive aggression. Slightly wrong, some small sign of ignorance - his speech turns into direct pressure on your relationship with him. He can really hurt you a lot if you don't appreciate his efforts to make you even a little happier. Most often they are small and insignificant, the kind that anyone would do, but for the King of Curses, this is really something grandiose. And since he has many ways to destroy your relationship, if you think he made a mistake, remember how it hurts him.

- Will you ignore me again? - Sukun asked with imperious anger, the last pieces of despair were dying in his soul. - And where is your mercy? If I have become disgusting to you, why do you continue to need me?

There was nothing to answer. It was not pride that tormented him at all, but an ever-deeper regret that with your equanimity you just caused another outbreak of rage in him. Most of all, the thought that you, perhaps, does not even notice it, and your eyes clouded with pain glide over something that is very dear to him, terrified him.

The dead silence continued, and my chest ached more and more. Then there was a soft groan:

- Y/n, I love you.

Tears ran down your cheeks, but did not brush them away with my hand. You knew it wasn't going to help. Bitter emotions generated by the word "love" are not able to be burned out on the face, like the sun on clay. You can't stop feeling. And all the same, looking at you was as painful as seeing your motionless glazed gaze.

He hugged you from the back as soon as he felt that you were repenting. Like the time you forgave him for calling you your own. He had strong hands - you can be sure. He was very gentle. You felt less pain. Maybe in the future it will be difficult for him to remember this, but now he tightly squeezed you in his arms and was so affectionate that you wanted him to never let you go.

Nanami Kento

He begins to suspect that something is wrong very early. First, morning kisses disappeared somewhere before leaving for work, then sincere conversations at the table, and then completely short meetings with glances. Moreover, the last remnants of intimacy are gone. Nanami began to think that something had happened to you. He always tried to protect you from any problems. And so you found yourself right in front of him, so closed and detached, he could not so easily take away the comfort and peace that he had been creating for so long and skillfully. And first of all, of course, he will lend you a helping hand to make it easier for you as quickly as possible.

A perplexed look will appear from under dark eyelashes after a man touches your forehead with his palm. It seems that the whole thing is not about health.

- You don't have a fever. He began.

- I know, thanks.

But Kento was clearly hinting at something.

- So what's up? - then you know what Nanami means. But she said nothing.

- Y/n, I do not want to impose anything on you, I just need to know what is happening to you so that our relationship with you does not suddenly go downhill.

The man took your hand and brought it to his lips. Nanami felt that if he said something now, he would commit tactlessness. And so he was silent, waiting for your answer.

- Sorry... - Tears began to burn my eyes. - I am very, very ashamed. I... it's just hard for me now, but it will pass by itself. I'm sure.

You pressed as tightly as possible to the man, hugged him and buried your face in the chest. He put his hand on your head encouragingly. I already didn't care about the problem as a whole. Now for you there was only what you felt - his soft stroking, the smell of a strong male body, warmth and care, and there was nothing but that.

Suguru Geto

He will take it calmly, without intention. But she won't ignore it. Often he will offer tea or something else, just to get at least one word out of you, in an attempt to bring you into conversation. He will not touch you without asking, because he knows about the value of personal space. And yet, for a while, it can fiddle with spontaneous statements in order to simply take away the soul and break a long silence.

- I see your day is going well... - Geto smiles with restraint. - Lots of news for me?

Guessing that he is once again trying to create a dialogue between you was almost nothing. But you are, of course, silent.

- I see. - Suguru sits down next to you, as close to your side as possible, not giving a damn if you don't like it.

- Maybe I offended you in some way? - he continues. - Or are you just not too open in your thoughts?

- Nothing. It's okay. - you throw.

- But it seems to me that no. - he takes your hand in his, as if trying to make you smile. “I think you have something to tell me, don’t you? He raises his eyebrows, expecting your reaction. Instead of answering, you grimace with a shrug. Suguru repeats the question:

- So what happened? Why don't you want to share your thoughts with me?

- What would you like? You ask. - Would you be happy to know that there is a perfect girl with great manners, beautiful and intelligent, whom you deserve?

To be honest, Suguru did not expect such an answer. You can see that he is a little dumbfounded, but quickly comes to his senses. And then he starts laughing - so sweet and sincere that you start to feel embarrassed and blush with shame.

- And I was already expecting something more terrible. He laughs. - Okay, be it your way. I'm not a particularly sentimental person. I do not know what to say.

- Tell me you feel terribly in love. - grabbing his wrist, you say.

The brunette makes a startled face again. But you do not retreat - you hold him for a few more seconds, forcing him to surrender. - Only from the bottom of my heart ...

- Y/n, I feel terribly in love with you and will never fall in love again next time. So? He asked, grinning.

Wiping away the tears of happiness, you hugged him without words, while he, hugging you with one hand, exhaled with relief.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

[george-fabian-weasley]

the mad hatter — g. w.(chapter 3)

Summary: You had found clear evidence that showed George as The Mad Hatter. And it had ruined you more than you thought.

Words: 2,771 words

Warnings: TW death, TW murder, TW poisoning, TW injuries, thriller, angst, fem!reader, husband!george, dad!george, serialkiller!george, sadism, bickering, mentions of sharp objects,

Disclaimer: I'm sorry for the 3 hours of delay, guys! My Internet wasn't working that well lately! Anyway, here's chapter 3! Prepare for some tissues, because this is pretty angsty. Reblogs and Comments are Highly Appreciated!

the mad hatter masterlist!

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“... Recorders?”

Inside the big drawer of George’s, were neatly placed recorders. You were confused, what the hell was he doing with these recorders in the first place?

Each of those recorders was labeled with initials you didn’t understand, along with them were numbers, six numbers underneath the letters. You reached for one, the top of the stack.

‘D. B.’

‘120121’

“DB…? What’s DB?” You muttered to yourself, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You tried to wreck your mind, thinking hard. There was a small voice in your mind, telling you the answer. Slowly it got louder and louder and louder until it’s the only thing you heard.

‘David Bush. 12th January 2021.’

The first victim of The Mad Hatter.

Without you knowing it, your fingers had grasped the recorder and pressed it to play. For the first few seconds, you only heard the static noises of the wheels inside the recorder turning.

“Date. 12th January. Subject. David Bush.”

It was George. This is his voice. But at the same time, it’s not. The voice you knew was gentle, understanding, and loving. This voice, however… was rough, deep and… and murderous.

George was breathing heavily on the tape as if he had exercised after a long while. You could hear him trying to regulate his breathings with the deep breaths he made. “I… I’ve stopped doing this for a while. It was a perfect shame that I did,” George huffed out a breath that you assumed a smile rose on his lips.

“Because I’ve forgotten how thrilling it was.”

It was an understatement; the fact that goosebumps ran up your spine heavily as you heard him. What… What was he talking about? What is the thrill? Please, please please, don’t let it be what’s in your mind. Please—

“Subject was held at knifepoint when I gave him those lovely macarons I bought from the newly opened bakery. Only I’ve put my own special ingredient in, just for him,” George’s voice cut your train of thoughts off. The way he held his words was delicate, like a piece of paper shaped into a knife kind of delicate. You could hear from his voice that he was smiling, he was smiling big.

You could imagine him at that moment, on the 12th of January, sitting in his workspace holding the recorder in his hand and let out all those words… purposely recorded.

“I’ve only tried my luck when I gave him those, and it seems my luck has not yet run out. Because a few moments later, he couldn’t breathe on his own. He couldn’t breathe, and as I watched him fight for a huff of air, excitement bubbles inside of me. The thrill, the nicotine of it all was, exhilarating. Addicting. I didn’t know why I stopped doing this in the first place.”

You felt like throwing up. He didn’t have to say what he was doing, or what was the special ingredient. Everything clicked in perfectly. Way too perfectly.

It’s him. George is The Mad Hatter.

You took a shaky deep breath, trying to digest everything. The Mad Hatter… was your own husband. The man that you have wed. The man that you have born a child with. The man that you’re in love with. You felt your heart ramming up your chest, the palpitations were fast and so unnatural, you felt like you would have a heart attack if it continued for a few minutes. You ran a hand through your hair, suddenly feeling chills on your body, it was cold in here.

“I did mess up though,” His words caused you to look up to the recorder. “I brought with me a thermos of tea, in case I was feeling cold. And I did, but I accidentally spilled some of them on his hands.”

“Thinking back about it, it wasn’t a mess up at all,” He started to chuckle, “Because as soon as it made contact with his hands, the subject let out this hoarse, strained scream. And it was… It was nothing I’ve ever heard before.”

“It was a masterpiece.”

You pressed the stop button on the recorder. You literally couldn’t bear to hear another word coming out of the recorder. Who is he? Who is your husband? Do you really know him? Or do you only know the front that he used in front of you for the past 7 years?

Your eyes snapped back to the content of the drawer. You rummaged through them all, the initials and the numbers. All of them aligned with the names of the victims and the dates they had been murdered.

David Bush. Peter Pettigrew. Severus Snape. Barty Crouch Jr. Spencer Gillard. Albus Dumbledore. Ralph Wilkins. Every single one of them, and their own recorders of confessions. All victims of The Mad Hatter. Victims of George Weasley.

And then you heard the front door open.

“We’re home!” Rafael’s cheerful voice had caught you off guard. You glanced at the watch on your wrist in haste, it was only 3:30 pm, they weren’t supposed to be back until 5. You felt fear running through your bones. What if George caught you snooping around? What if he's mad at you?

Wait. No. Why would you be scared? You’re not the murderer here, he is.

“Y/N, love? Are you home? We saw your shoes at the front of the house,” George’s voice, different from the one you had listened to in the recorder, had disgusted you in many ways you couldn't have imagined. You would've never thought his voice, which you loved so much before, could bring so much anger and hatred in you. But here we are.

Hearing him say your name, with love after, was he really honest? Or was he just lying, like he always does for the past 7 years? Hearing him saying it was repulsive, dirty, and full of hate.

He’s fooling with you. How dare he.

You stormed out of George’s workroom, surprising the two of them. “Mumma— '' Rafa's words were cut off when you grabbed his wrist, “Rafa, baby, I need you to be in your room for a minute alright? Mumma’s talking with Papa.”

“B-But— ” He was cut off again when you pushed him into his room and slammed the door shut. You could hear your son slamming his arms on the door, wailing to get out already.

George looked at you in confusion, “Darling, what— ” “Don’t call me darling. Or love, or honey or literally anything else!” You snapped, seething your next words, “It disgusts me.”

“What are you talking about?” George tried to get close to you, he tried to hold your hand but you shrugged it off harshly, “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me.”

“Mumma! Let me out!!!” Rafael’s screams and wails had your husband’s attention, “Let him out of his room, Y/N,” he said seriously. You chuckled with no humor, “No, no. I’m not letting you near him again.” You narrowed your eyes at him, watching his furrowing his eyebrows.

“He’s my son!” George’s voice started to rise. You clenched your jaw, “He’s mine too! And I have the right to protect him from a serial killer!”

“You’re scaring him— wait what?” George looked at you with a frown. You shook your head as you scoffed, amused by his faux innocence, “You can’t fool me, George. Not anymore.”

“Papa! Papa, help me!” Rafael sobbed from the other side of the door. You watched as the hard look on George softened at the voice of your son. You were struggling as well, you have never heard him sounded so scared and terrified, and it was because of you.

But you had to protect him.

"Let him out, Y/N," George voiced out trembling. You took a shaky breath, "I will, as soon as I put you into cuffs. Turn around."

"What?" "I said turn around!"

"Rafa, baby, please hang on for a minute okay? Mumma's letting you out soon, can you stop crying for me?" You called out to your son. You heard the little sniffles, "Mumma, I'm scared…"

You heard your heart break into pieces, "I know baby, I'm so sorry, but just a little longer okay? Can you be a big boy for me?" You asked, and it was silent before Rafael let out a small, strained 'okay'.

"Y/N, please," George voiced out, "Let him out. He's scared out of his mind!" "I'm scared too, George! I'm scared too!" You cried out loud, feeling tears threatening to come out. You weren't sure if those were tears of fear or betrayal.

“Of what?!” “Of you.”

You walked towards him and pushed George to the wall, his back facing you. "Wha— hey!" he complained. "George Weasley," You spat out, gripping the handcuffs on your pockets and strained him with all your will to not let him move, "You're under arrest for the first-degree murder of 7 people. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you."

You purposely tightened the handcuffs, causing him to groan in pain. You neared your mouth to his ear, pushing his body against the wall harder.

"Teatime is over, you sick bastard."

"Mumma, why is Uncle Blaise here? And who are these people in our home?" Rafael asked you in your arms. You sighed as you laid down on the couch, hugging your son tight. "These people are going to check our home, baby. They're good people, don't worry." You sighed out, playing with his hair.

A moment later, George passed by the two of you as he was escorted by a few police officers out of your house. He was handcuffed. "Papa?" Rafael rose, calling his Papa. George looked up and saw him, and he smiled, "Papa's going to be fine, Rafa!"

"Are they going to hurt Papa? Where are they taking him?" Rafael turned to you, worry etched on his face. You strained a smile, an effort to comfort your son, "Papa will be safe, Rafa. I promise."

"Mumma promise that Papa will be fine? And he'll come back home to us?" His little voice asked, his little pinky finger lifted. You opened your mouth, and closed it back again; speechless. You knew George won't ever step his foot back in here. You wouldn't allow it.

But for the sake of your son's innocence, a fake promise is still a promise. So, hooking together your pinky with his, you whispered, "Pinky promise."

"Mumma's going to the bathroom, okay? Can you stay with Auntie Lav for me?" You asked, and Rafa obediently nodded. You smiled softly, kissing his forehead, "That's my good boy."

As you leave your son with Lavender, the smile on your lips vanishes instantly. You looked left to right, precious belongings of yours ransacked and searched by your fellow police officers for clues and evidence that George may have brought into the house.

Your home, destroyed because of your so-called loving husband.

It was overwhelming; watching your home, the place where you first moved in together, the place where you made love to your husband, the place where Rafa had his first walk on, the place where you called home for 7 years, ruined.

Your life is ruined.

You felt your chest constricting, igniting a sensation of pain inside of you, and you struggled to see, due to tears blocking your vision. You quickly went to the bathroom, slamming the door shut as you leaned your back on the wooden surface.

You placed your hand on your mouth, clasping it down tight, hoping it could muffle the pained sobs coming out of your lips. It was a breakdown you would never wish to happen to anyone else. Your knees felt weak, so you slid down and collapsed on the tiled floor, tears dropping with the soft sound of 'plop' each time.

You remembered the first time you had met George. He was tall and dashing, you met him in his shop he ran with his brother, Fred. He was friendly and kind, showing you around the shop for hours before you asked for his number. You felt a connection towards him that pulled you into him, and you thought he felt the same when he called you later that night.

Was that all a lie?

You remembered the first time you had your date, it was at a park and you held hands as you walked on the trails in the forest of autumn. There were dead leaves everywhere, and you had thought the brownish-red surroundings had made his orange hair pop out more. George was so beautiful during that date, as he smiled at you, as he kissed your forehead, as he kissed your lips with such tenderness.

Was that the truth?

You remembered the first time you had told him you loved him. You were in bed, cuddling in winter because the heater of his house broke down. He was listening to you talking about one of the cases of Izzy Einstein when you stopped and stared into his eyes. He said what's wrong and you said, nothing, it's just that I realized that I love you. He was silent for a while before a soft smile rested on his lips as he spoke, I love you too, my love.

All of those… Do those moments mean nothing to him?

Fuck those early times, because what about your marriage? He proposed! Your child? He wanted kids too! Your life together as a small happy family? He told you he was happy!

Was he lying the whole time? Did he even love Rafa? Did he even like this family he built together with you?

Did he even love you?

Thousands and thousands of questions ran through your head that you didn't even have time to process all. They were bombarding your mind non-stop. It had become so noisy in there, "Shut up," You sobbed, holding your head tightly with your hands. Tears running down your cheeks furiously as you shook your head, a weak attempt of shooing the thoughts away, "Shut up!" You cried again, whimpers coming out of your mouth as you failed to silence the noise in your head.

You felt so many things at once. You couldn't even name a quarter of them. Everything was happening so fast and it's… it's not fair for you. It's not fair for anyone.

Angry. Frustrated. Betrayed. Annoyed. Upset. Disappointed. Disgusted. Repulsed. Responsible. Heartbroken.

And those weren't even half of it. How you wish things wouldn't have changed. How you wished you would've never taken this case in the first place. How you wished you could have your small, happy family back.

How you wish you could turn back time, with the ignorance for the truth.

But you can't. Everything is bare now. Everything is exposed. Your husband on cuffs, your son scared out of his mind, your home ransacked, you broke down in the bathroom, what good did it bring;  solving this case for your family? Nothing.

Not even a promotion can heal the deep wound in this family. And it pained you that things will never be the same again without George.

Before you knew him as a serial killer, he was your husband. He was the father of your child. He was attentive, responsible, loving, caring, gentle, the perfect man for you. The perfect father for Rafa.

He was the love of your life. And he still is.

The tears coming out of your eyes were relentless, they won't stop coming out and you felt exhausted. Emotionally and mentally exhausted. You gasped for air as you cried, hearing the several knocks on the door from Blaise, "Y/N, open the door, please."

"Leave me alone, Blaise, please," You mustered out, with a weak voice. "Open this door, Y/N, " He said again, and you closed your eyes at his stubbornness.

"Blaise, please," You whimpered desperately, shakily taking in a breath, "Leave. I just want to be alone."

It was silent at the other side, and then a sigh, "I'm taking Rafa to my house. It's getting late and Lav wants to cook him something," He said and you unconsciously nodded, even though he couldn't see you, "... Thank you."

"... Take care, Y/N."

You silently scoffed at his goodbye, how could you? How could you take care of yourself? Your life is ruined. Your family is ruined. Everything, everything had gone into dust.

Everything.

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[bored-storyteller]

All the parts you want. If you have anything specific in mind let me know!

Part 1:"Keep death away"

Part 2:"Beyond the Mask"

39- Tokyo Ghoul- Uta x Human! Reader pt. 3

"Just like you"

His tattooed hand presses against the wardrobe door that he has just closed, right in front of you.

Your breath tickles his knuckles as he hurries to hide the jar from your view, which you only caught a glimpse of it.

Trapped between him and the piece of furniture, your guilty gaze meets his.

"Oops ... sorry." You murmur, barely smiling at him.

Uta sighs slightly, shaking his head with his sweet and calm expression: "no ... I'm sorry, I forgot they were there."

You watch him bend over to open a drawer to look for the leather straps he asked you to retrieve, only to see him return to his workstation soon after.

Were those fingers in there?

The shop has been closed for a while now, and even if you would never say it out loud, this makes you happy. It's not exactly the best for you to always be ready to snap to hide in the bathroom, waiting for his customers to leave.

It hasn't happened many times, actually, but in one of them you heard Uta justify the presence of your smell as "his next meal". It made sense, yet you couldn't ignore a shiver running down your spine.

Despite any moral expectations, since you discovered that that boy is a ghoul you have found yourself much more company with him than before. It is something of yours, mutual. Now that a frightening world has knocked on your door, the one who showed it to you has become your safety and protection, and in the same way Uta comes into your protection with concern and at bottom with a slight sense of guilt it tickles his soul, relieved simply by the relief of not having to hide from you anymore.

Even if you are now aware of who you have in front of you, however the dynamics between you two are still fragile, and above all the dynamics between you and your inner fears are fragile.

The day after the tragic and at the same time sweet evening that opened you to a completely new reality for you, he immediately took care to give you the necessary recommendations: if someone asks you for something, any person, you absolutely must instantly forget that he is a ghoul.

At first you actually felt offended. Did he really think you were that stupid to tell someone about this? Did he think you would ever endanger him?

But soon after, you realized that it was not for his safety that he worried so much. He was afraid for you.

"This is really dangerous" he had told you "If anything happens to me, nobody has to know that you know, okay?"

If anything happens to me.

You couldn't say anything clever at the time, so you just nodded, but something bittersweet had started to tingle in your heart.

He is dangerous, and at the same time in danger. You are in danger of being there with him, you are in many ways. Some would say that you are committing a crime, that you are wrong, that you deserve punishment just because you enjoy his company. Yet you can't feel guilty.

You have so many questions to ask him, but in those days since the revelation you have not asked him even one.

It is so difficult for you to understand what you are feeling. He kills, he eats people, this is now known. He is one of those monsters that the news is talking about so much, one of those monsters that should be exterminated.

Yet you are now there, observing the empty, weeping eyes of a mask behind a display case. He must have done it recently, it's the first time you've seen it.

But still, you are there, in a hidden shop where you risk finding a box of human eyes by opening a drawer, and the thing that scared you the most until the other day is that you can't get the reaction you would expect from you.

You keep looking at the masks and him as you did until last week even though you know.

You didn't tell him, but it all kept you up at night. You've always thought about it, every moment was spent to find a way out of that tangle of thoughts and emotions that went through you both in his presence and in his absence.

It was hard to make peace with yourself, it was almost scary, but in the end you accepted it. You had no choice but to accept it.

He eats people like you, but if he didn't he couldn't exist ...

"I like this mask ..." so sad, so scared, a soul of a poor devil in hell.

"Really? I recently did it. But you know, to tell the truth it gives me a strange feeling. "

Even if he doesn't look at you he is attentive to you. Even if he sits on his stool where you are, he listens to you, he perceives you, much more than you perceive him.

Now you know… someone in that cruel world has to die, and you don't want that someone to be Uta, despite the price.

Yeah, the price, that price you didn't pay.

Now there is one more thing you have to solve with yourself, something else to admit, so fragile and so strong together.

You approach him to see what he is working on - or rather to see him.

When you look at him, every time, you immediately remember that he is a ghoul, but at the same time it is as if you forget him.

You've been spending a lot of time together now, yet each time you want more, and you don't really care how wrong it is.

“Listen…” his peaceful voice quickly distracts you from your thoughts “… you've been pretty quiet lately. Do you feel ok?"

His hands do not stop for a moment to work, to create. He certainly has deadlines to meet and yet what he is doing is not simple work, it is art. You feel privileged to be able to observe it at work.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I've been thinking too much lately."

You just laugh, a little embarrassed and a little really strangely and genuinely amused by that turn that everything is taking, as long as you are with Uta you feel free to smile again, despite everything.

You move closer to get a better look at his fingers intertwining with ribbons and straps. Who knows how he does it.

"Is it really such a big problem that I'm a ghoul?"

His words rain down on you like a cold shower interrupting all consideration, yet on his part they were necessary.

Uta also finds himself strangely surprised. His skilled hands interrupt the art, in the surprise of that new doubt that until now he had ignored.

No, in fact, he hadn't really ignored it. It had simply always presented itself in a thousand other terms that had never been posed as such a placid question.

He had experienced that stigma, that exclusion from the beauty of the world in a thousand sick ways, but never as he is experiencing it now with you.

And again that world that runs too fast for him returns, that world that "loves only humans", yet in his selfishness he prays on the sidelines that you will be able to give up that love that that magnificent world grants you, to stay there immobile, with a Pierrot like him.

For a moment Uta doesn't know what to do, whether to resume his job to avoid your gaze and protect himself, or to risk looking at you, discovering your emotions.

Yet before he can decide, he feels your movement.

You don't even know what you're really doing, you just know that for some reason at that moment you need to feel him as much as possible, to understand, to fix yourself.

Kneeling on the cold floor, in the intimate solitude of the closed shop, you let your arms surround his waist without fear. Your head in his lap, nestled against him as much as possible.

He doesn't react, he just looks at you, blank in the face.

Suddenly he feels angry restlessness rising in him. What are you doing? He can't read it, what does it mean?

For some reason he can't really feel your hug, it's as if he doesn't contemplate it among the possibilities. You're hugging someone else there. Snuggled against his stomach, you are approaching human victims like you, not him. There is no bridge between you two, it is impossible to believe.

There is no way that you, little fragile human, can really accept something so big, he cannot ask it to you, he thinks ... and yet ...

"I like it ..." your words are light, shy, and even fearful. Afraid of the scope of what you are saying, of that bestial confession you are revealing "that you are a ghoul ... I like it ..."

And that's the hard truth. It's just something of him, it's him, it's something attractive.

It is attractive to know that those gentle lips could bite you and trap your flesh, that those light hands could tear you apart. That safe sense of danger he gives you is tempting, and the trust you place in him just makes you enjoy that awareness.

This is hard even for you to admit, but you cannot ignore it, nor leave him unaware.

And once again your words overturn his stage, destroy it and rebuild it according to a new conformity.

He is surprised, you can feel it from his breath that stops for a moment, jumps against your cheek.

One thing he loves about you is that he can't help but believe you. No matter how much those words may be at odds with everything life has taught him, if you say it then it's true for him.

His delicate fingers intertwine with your hair, light, almost shy. His hand caresses you patiently, aware, almost as if he is caressing a child, while he holds you there in a sweet constriction.

"Really?"

His calm question about him is not a request for confirmation, as much as wanting to hear you say the things he never has the words to say.

You rise from your seat, getting back on your feet, but unexpectedly you are prevented from walking away from him.

Now it's his arms that surround your waist, and you find yourself there, trapped between his knees and his arms, without being squeezed. His eyes look at you attentively, his bizarre face shows nothing but his calm composure - which does not at all reflect the vibrations of his heart -.

“I think… it's part of you, you wouldn't be the same otherwise. I like it."

You don't know with what courage you spoke those words, so sure and sincere.

You are not embarrassed, perhaps because you both love that little world that belongs only to you, where no one can see and hear you, that behind the scenes of the circus of life.

And it is your way of seeing reality that he likes, what he needs. That your putting Uta before the ghoul, that small and natural confirms that you always give him. This is what still gives many hope, the existence of someone like you, who knows how to see things in the order in which they should be seen. It is the principle for which love exists between humans and ghouls.

The light and affectionate smile that is painted on his lips is the confirmation that is needed, nothing else.

"I could eat you ..."

"I know" but you won't.

You should be food for him, you are. You are a possible meal, but you are also a person. You are someone. You talk, laugh, joke, cry, get angry ... and over time he has learned to want to keep it all, because he likes the way you are. Though you may be his source of life, just imagining feeding on you becomes painful for him. The thought of devouring you, of consuming you, of making you disappear from the world, of swallowing your body, your laughter and your tears, your voice calling his name… has become extremely painful.

And he's also sure you don't really know what you're saying, he's sure you want to change a lot of things about him if you only knew them, but for now it's okay that you only know that drama.

Indeed, no, it is not a scene. Uta is Uta, whole and sincere. What you know is the real and authentic facade of Uta that you deserve to know, there is nothing wrong with that, and he is sure you know it.

Everyone is modeled on relationships, you do too, but it's not that you are less true with him than with others.

The same goes for him, and despite this he is also aware that the affection that binds him to you will not change when he is talking to Renji, and not even when he is at the center of an auction. Uta is always Uta, and you are always you, no matter where you are or who you are with.

Two extremely complex creatures, monster and prey that still share something so profound and at the same time solid and concrete.

His lips curl slightly more, in a vague expression of veiled sweetness.

"Good."

His hand slips on the table as he stands up, but you don't notice it, too focused on seeing that the other hand hasn't given up on the touch on your hips.

Only when something lands on your face do you wake up. You do not understand it immediately, but the mask, still white and anonymous, is now on you, supported by him.

Before you can say anything or ask for an explanation, Uta is close to you, so close that you know you can feel the hard cover vibrating slightly on your cheeks under his breath.

It is still too early, everything is too delicate to utter certain words between you two, to give voice to deep and primitive feelings, which have nothing forbidden even though society would like you to believe.

It is not for fear that you will not admit what you both know, it is just for the pleasure of enjoying that moment, that moment before, that sweet harboring the affectionate secret.

This is why it is the stiff and cold lips of the mask that are kissed, a slight barrier that separates the delicacy of that touch from you.

A kiss that doesn't whet anyone's appetite, is just a silent admission of something extremely big.

And as the mask came, it goes away, returning to its place, leaving you uncovered and incredulous.

Uta also moves away, returning to turn his attention to the stock cabinet, abandoning you still and dazed in front of that almost dreamlike situation.

"Uta?"

"Yes?"

His answer is always ready as he rummages through the rolls of tissue.

"What was that?"

His quiet face of him turns to you, and you know him well enough to notice that slight amused glint in his eyes.

"What was what?"

“That! You know!"

A slight amused snort from him lets you know you'll never get your answers: "You must have daydreamed."

-End-

[yesttoheaven]

AMOR FATI

pairing – neil x female!reader

wc – 3.8k

warnings – mention of death, self-blame, anxious/intrusive thoughts, questioning reality, refusal of help, guns, stalking, but I swear there's a light at the end of the tunnel haha

a/n – The last time I suffered so hard for the death of a character, was when Newt died (Maze Runner) and now Neil has captured all my attention and his death has hit me in the same way 😩 I needed a happy ending so I decided to write this!

The Eternal Return and Amor Fati mentioned in this fic are one of the main ideas of Nietzsche's philosophy.

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

She approached the painting hanging on the wall, watching the details closely. Ouroboros. A serpent eating its own tail. Months ago, when Y/N was visiting an antique store in Mumbai, she saw that same symbol. The owner of the establishment approached when she realized her interest in the piece and explained that Ouroboros represents the ideas of movement, continuity and, in consequence, Eternal Return. A concept that the universe and all existence and energy has been recurring, and will continue to recur, in a self-similar form an infinite number of times across infinite time or space.

"Max finally fell asleep." Kat returned to the living room, attracting Y/N's attention.

She walked away from the painting, taking back her seat on the sofa and asked:

"How is he after everything that happened?"

For a moment, Kat looked at the painting on the wall and then at the friend she won in the midst of confusion over the Algorithm. At that time, despite being fighting on the front lines to prevent a possible Third World War, Y/N seems complete. Happy. Today that happiness no longer exists in her eyes.

Letting out a sigh, the woman sat next to her, answering:

"Sator was never a present father. He was always busy... now i can see the kind of work he was involved in. Anyway, Max just got used to his absence."

"It's notable that he's happier at your side. When we first met Max was a bit of an introvert, but today he is radiant." Y/N confessed, showing a small smile and the blonde shook her head, agreeing with her words. "How's everything?"

"Perfectly well. It's weird sometimes... After years of being stuck in a failed relationship, freedom is good."

"It seems like life is good for one of us." The woman let out a bitter laugh, putting the latest events on a scale, but she didn’t want her friend to think she wasn’t happy for her. She really was. "I'm sorry, I just..." The words remain stuck in her throat, while she covers her face with her hands. In addition to physical and mental fatigue, Y/N tried to hide her grief.

Kat touched her shoulder, showing that she was here.

"I know you're hurt, but it's been three months and you never talked about what happened that day... This is not good for you."

"What do I have to say, Kat? The guy I fell in love with was a fucking time traveler! And now he's dead and I don't know what to do. My life just... stopped without him."

"I can imagine how difficult it's for you to cross that line without Neil at your side, but giving up is not an option. Grief is consuming you little by little and you are just accepting it..."

"We are trained to contain our emotions and deal with death in the best possible way. It used to be easy for me, but then he came and turned my life upside down." Y/N put her hands on her knees and stood up, walking without an exact destination. "Neil was always one step ahead of us all..." She stepped forward too and found the painting again, but her mind was lost in thoughts about him. Neil knew her so well. And he had a charming smile, but completely arrogant at the same time. "I was sent to Mumbai to help two agents and when I arrived at Priya's penthouse that night, there he was. When he saw me, that was the first and only time that he let his guard down. I'll never forget how he looked at me, it was one of those breathtaking moments... Completely cliché, I know."

On the sofa, Kat was impressed. When Y/N turned towards her, there was a bright smile on her face. The simple memory brought her a breath of happiness and Kat enjoyed seeing her friend like that, but unfortunately that moment did not last long. Memories aren't enough. Neil is dead and nothing can change that.

"I miss him so much, Kat." The smile disappeared as soon as tears appeared in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks.

"My dear..." Worried about her, the woman got up quickly and approached Y/N, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm really sorry."

"I spent the last three months locked up in my a-apartment because I thought I could handle this situation on my own. At times I b-believed it was just a fever dream... Maybe I was losing my mind, but this is proof that everything was real." Through tears blurring her vision, she looked at the watch on her wrist, remembering that night.

Y/N was in a private cabin on the ship. The others were with Ives and Wheeler, going over the mission in search of any loose ends. A standard procedure. Y/N knew she should be with them, but she needed a moment alone to organize her thoughts. And that moment is now. The past few weeks had been a real mess. The inversion was difficult to explain and mainly to understand. She was used to field missions, but being an inverted soldier on the battlefield was not in her plans. Either way, she agreed to be a part of it and running away with biased assumptions was not going to help. Humanity depends on them.

Three knocking on the door caught Y/N's attention, but she remained silent, waiting for the person to give up and leave, but when it didn't, she just murmured 'Come in'.

"So, here you are." The man used a surprised tone of voice and closed the door behind him. "What will our superior think when he learns that you are running away from the briefing?"

She let out a laugh before answering in the same mood:

"Don't worry, I know this mission like the back of my hand. I just needed a moment."

"There's something wrong? Are you ok?" Neil spilled the questions quickly, visibly concerned for her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Neil." Y/N smiled at him, but looked away just seconds later, confessing: "Maybe I'm a little surprised by the situation. I have spent years dealing with terrorists, but the inversion is really not my point."

"I'm not good with advice, but someone once said to me: Don't try to understand. Certain things in the world do not need an explanation."

"It's wise advice, but I'm a methodical person. Logic has always been my ally in missions."

"A methodical person, huh?" He asked with an arrogant smile playing on his lips and she just rolled her eyes. "I know how worried you were when Sator shot Kat, but we are using the inversion to save the world and you're one of the most brilliant agents I have ever seen. Everything will be fine."

"Are you praising me?"

"What's that? Can't I praise my partner's talent?" Neil pulled up a chair to sit across from her, crossing his arms.

"In that case, thank you. Remind me to put this on my resume." Those words made him laugh and that sound could easily be compared to music in her ears.

Touching her knee, Neil added:

"We are very confident with the mission. You don't need to worry."

"Are you sure?"

"I cannot say that unforeseen events do not happen, but we are prepared for that." Y/N knew he was right, but this mission is the biggest one so far. It's not about saving a country. It's about saving the entire world. This was arousing insecurities in her and it was like walking in a minefield. Ironically, she was familiar with this, but not in such catastrophic proportions. "I want you to have this." The man took his watch off his wrist and handed it to her.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" The question came out as a whisper from between her lips.

It didn't make sense. Why does everything in this conversation look like a farewell?

"We will be on opposite sides tomorrow, but i want you to know... I will always be with you, Y/N."

"I saw the way he looked at you... That's how I used to look at Sator before he became a monster in my life." Kat started, running a hand through Y/N's hair. "When I was lying on that stretcher and partially drugged with the medicines, I saw him beside you... watching you sleep. There was so much love in his eyes. Love for a lifetime, Y/N. So don't do this to yourself. The way he left hurt us all, but there was nothing you or any other agent could do to change what happened at Stalask-12. Neil saved the world. This gave us a second chance. You cannot give up now. This organization needs you. And keeping your mind busy at that moment is the first step towards a fresh start."

"N-No, I can't..." She broke the hug, shaking her head in denial. "I left the organization."

"What? Don't you work for Tenet anymore? But when we first met you told me that you can't imagine working in another area... And that this is your life's work."

"Being an agent is my life's work. I was in Yemen when Tenet found me and assigned me to this mission. My only job is to make this world a less hostile place, but the motto of this organization is not what I believe, Kat. What's happened's happened. Really? It doesn't work for me." Y/N ended the sentence with drops of anger in her voice and Kat did not say a single word.

Through the newspapers, Max's mother followed what was happening in Yemen over the years – a real endless war – and knowing that Y/N was in the middle of it, makes the situation unquestionable. People died in front of her eyes. Friends of the corporation. And then some time later, Tenet arrived with a fresh start, but in the end everything remained the same. She lost Neil. It is as if her life's work never had a happy ending because the world will never stop being a hostile place.

"He knows?" It was easy for Y/N to identify who she was talking about. The Protagonist. Or just TP.

"Here's another problem. I worked with him and indirectly worked for him at the same time! God, that man created this organization! And his name remains a mystery to us all!" She pinched the tip of her nose, feeling frustrated with all the secrets that haunt this organization. "And answering your question, yes, he knows, but he did not argue about it. I was a complete mess and he was not doing very well either... He stayed in my apartment for the first month, probably to make sure I didn't do anything stupid." And Y/N would be forever grateful for that. She likes him. Just as friends, of course. TP was a reserved man, but it was he who held her when everything was falling apart. "But we've had a fight. I blamed him for what happened at Stalask-12 and since then we haven't spoken anymore."

It was easy to see that they carried more pain than they could actually bear. Y/N lost her great love and the man lost his best friend. The situation just turned into a conflict between them and that was the result.

Realizing the sadness reflected in Y/N's eyes, Kat decided to change the subject of the conversation. Keeping that thought, she smiled and pointed to the painting on the wall. Maybe that could help.

"You seemed interested in this one."

"Oh yes, in my spare time I am a lover of art and its meanings. It is really attractive the way Ouroboros is connected to the Eternal Return..."

"And Amor Fati too." Kat completed, piquing Y/N's curiosity. This part was new to her. "It's impossible to affirm the Eternal Return without loving life. We need to learn that things happen as they do. Sometimes seemingly good. Sometimes seemingly bad. We don’t always get it our way... Unless we choose that whatever way it is, is our way. When we choose to Amor Fati, to love everything that happens, to love our fate, then we will always get it our way. Because the way it is, is the way it is. Unchangable. And therefore it must be good, even if it sucks."

These words touched Y/N's heart. This was a contradiction to what she is experiencing right now. Love your fate. She would like to understand and accept what happened, she really wanted, but why is it so difficult to move on?

Because Neil is dead.

That was the only explanation for her. The end of a relationship would be more acceptable. If he were alive, things would be completely different now. However, grief is overwhelming. How could she just accept what happened?

"I... I gotta go." That was all she managed to say before picking up her bag and leave the penthouse, ignoring Kat's protests.

When the elevator doors closed, an exhausted sigh left her mouth and the instant she saw her reflection in the mirror, Y/N wanted to cry again. After three months alone, she thought visiting her friend would be a good idea. Kat was willing to help, but the problem was that Y/N is not allowing herself to be helped. As soon as the doors opened, she left the metal box and found the hotel lobby partially empty. Her watch showed it was 3:13 AM, this explains the absence of people on the street as well. In front of her car, she searched the bag for the key and coincidentally her cell phone started to vibrate. Probably the text messages were from Kat, but confusion hit Y/N the instant she looked at the identifier and saw that the messages did not belong to any of her contacts.

Stay away from the car

They put a bomb

I'm on my way

Her first reaction was to take a few steps back and look around, trying to understand what’s going on and find the person responsible for these texts, but Y/N was alone in the dark street. When she thought it might be an unnecessary prank, a black SUV approached at high speed. The car stopped just a few meters away from where she was, but that was enough to make her body freeze.

"Y/N, come on!" The man exclaimed, the urgency in his voice would have made her run immediately, but she didn't move. Her feet had frozen on the floor. This cannot be real. "Come on, get in the car! We don't have much time!" He tried again, it was possible to hear the sound of the other cars approaching.

Y/N watched in slow motion the moment he left the car and ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"How is this possible?" She asked in a whisper, completely lost in his blue eyes.

"It's good to see you too." Neil admitted, feeling his heart race. She looked so fragile in his arms. Very different from the last time he saw her. "We have to go." He accompanied her to the car and as soon as Y/N took the passenger seat, he returned to his seat.

For her this moment was like a fever dream, so she just looked down and started counting her fingers. One, two, three, four, five... Neil noticed, but said nothing, just kept driving. The cars were fast approaching, but he would do everything possible and impossible to get Y/N away from these people.

"Give me your cell phone." He looked at her for a brief moment, but when Y/N didn’t react, he wasn't sure if she heard it, so he just took the phone from her hand and threw it out the window. That was enough to get her out of the numbness:

"What the fuck, Neil?!"

Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body, the man laughed.

"If I found you because of your cell phone, they can too." After that, he crossed the red light and made a risky turn, trying to end this chase. "Before you ask, no, this is not a dream. Unfortunately this is very real..." Neil didn't like what he saw when he adjusted the rearview mirror. "And now they are getting ready to shoot us."

That observation put Y/N on alert and she looked back, seeing a man with an AKS-74U and another with a Beretta M12.

"If you knew it wasn't a dream, why didn't you bring an armored car?" She ran her tongue between her lips, smiling at the man beside her. Neil tried to argue, but she just took off her seat belt and picked up the Glock 19 stuck in the vest he was wearing.

Y/N crawled out of the car and sat at the window opening. This encouraged the men in the two cars to start shooting, trying desperately to hit her. Neil shouted something that she couldn't understand and then she felt one of his hands on her thigh, giving her stability to continue with the plan. With her arm resting on the roof of the vehicle, Y/N aimed the gun at the car that was closest to them. Her intention was not to start a firefight in the middle of one of the main avenues in the city, but she had no other option. Holding her breath, she fired the first shot and the bullet hit the tire, taking the car out of circulation. Y/N celebrated while preparing for the second car, but dealing with this one was not an easy task. Now they were in a tunnel and, consequently, losing speed because of the other cars that came along the way. Neil left two pats on her leg, indicating that she had better get back in the car and that is what she did. Screams, honks and gunshots echoed through the tunnel, turning the place into a war zone. Whoever these men were, Y/N knew they weren't going to give up.

Tired of playing cat and mouse, she went to the back seat, getting on her knees. Through the broken glass above the trunk, Y/N adjusted the aim of her gun, ignoring the sniper and focusing on the driver. With another accurate shot, the bullet hit the man's chest and he lost control of the vehicle. The car overturned for a while, streaking the asphalt, but no other car was involved in the accident. Y/N sighed in relief and looked for another possible threat, just checking, but when she realized that the area was clean, she returned to the passenger seat, leaving the gun on the dashboard in front of her.

"Next time I'm going to get an armored car." Neil comments, stepping on the gas. "Nice shot, by the way."

"Anytime." Y/N smiled, trying to control her breathing.

With the adrenaline disappearing from her body, it was hard for her to believe that this was really happening. For many nights she cried, wondering what it would be like if Neil just came back to her, but now she was afraid to wake up and realize that it was just another vivid dream.

The sun was rising when they arrived in a shed away from the city. Seen from the outside, the place was a little scary, but the interior wasn't that bad. There was some equipment like trackers, walkie-talkie, bulletproof vests, weapons, ammunition; a table with a mess of papers and on the other side two beds and something that Y/N supposed to be a private bathroom.

"Where we are?"

We. That simple word echoed in her mind. Y/N thought that "we" didn't exist anymore.

"For now in a safe place. It's dangerous for you out there." He answered the question and took a bottle of water, handing it to her after taking a generous sip.

"Who are these people, Neil?" She wanted answers, lots of answers, and that frustrated the british spy because for the first time he didn't know what could happen.

Neil had a mission and that mission ended with him dying in Stalask-12, but after what TP did, everything changed.

"We have a name..." He wanted to say more, he wanted to reassure her, but that was all he had at the moment.

Y/N drank some water and left the bottle on the table, looking at some reports and photos. All photos were of the same man.

Lenard Vaher

"But apparently they don't just want you..."

It took a few seconds and when the realization hit Y/N, concern appeared on her face.

No, not him.

"Where's TP? He's safe, right?"

"He was going to see you when Lenard's men kidnapped him. This happened three weeks ago." And considering the anger in Neil's voice, finding TP was proving an almost impossible task, but in the midst of so much concern, one point attracted Y/N's attention.

"You said he was going to see me..."

"There was something he needed to tell you." Neil sighed, resting his hands on the table. A few strands of blond hair fell over his forehead, but he quickly shook his head back, as he always did. "He returned to Stalask-12, Y/N."

After that statement, the only sound that could be heard was Neil's footsteps closing the distance between them and the first thing she did was put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Neil smiled. And that was not one of his famous smiles. That was a shy smile. His heart was beating like a drum and it was all because of her. Loving Y/N was something so special and pure, that Neil accepted his fate without a second thought. Saving the world, he was giving her a second chance to live, but now he is the one who received a second chance.

"I missed you every day." Before she could begin to consider the meaning behind his words, he settled his mouth upon hers, robbing her of thought.

She closed her eyes and melted against him, flattening her hands on his arms. Neil caught her bottom lip in his teeth, nibbling and licking at it until she thought she might perish from the intensity of the feeling. She whimpered at the sensation, and he rewarded the sound by deepening the kiss, giving her everything she desired. His tongue stroked hers, slow and insistent. A lush, decadent pleasure unfolded within them, snaking through their veins as though it had lain coiled in anticipation for years.

Just waiting for this moment.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

a/n – really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ;)

[ashintheairlikesnow]

i'm fucking losing it about that most recent post and i cannot get coherent words out about it because i get too excited about the possibilities and it is extremely hard to type while flapping but !!! oh my god!!!! oh my godd!!!!!!!!!

CW: Opening to what is definitely going to be a severe trauma response in the next piece, brief victim-blaming language

Jake watches the video, and Laken can't read his expression at all. It's grim, maybe - his jaw is set, and his blue eyes don't leave the laptop screen.

Youtube starts with a stupid fucking State Farm car insurance ad, and Jake is quiet and thoughtful before the ad even ends. He didn't argue with Laken, or suggest disbelief. He only texted come to the house and show me while C is at rehearsal, and Laken had hopped on two buses and walked half a mile, but here they are, now, only a little sweaty for their efforts.

Laken hunches over next to him, their hands over their mouth, thick wavy black hair falling over their eyes. They'd re-shaved the sides yesterday and the air moved over the shorn-short spaces as the fan turned overhead.

They don't speak. They just watch Jake watch Tristan Higgs dance. They watch Antoni, Chris's other brother, sit quietly on Jake's other side, his own dark eyes equally fixed on the screen. When the video ends, Jake hits the replay button and watches it again.

And again.

"This video is from eight years ago," He finally says. His voice is a deep rumble, barely a sound human ears can hear. “I mean, the dancing is from eight years ago.”

Laken swallows and nods. "Um, y-yeah. So he would be-"

"Fifteen," Jake finishes for them. "Give or take. If he's as old as I think he is. And this guy seems pretty fucking sure that Tristan Higgs is dead."

"Right." Laken swallows, uncomfortable. "So, Ben-... You remember Ben. He's, um. Been looking stuff up, and... He sent me some links to, like, old news articles, and... Um..."

"What is in the articles?" Where Jake's voice is rough-edged, struggling for control, Antoni's voice is soft, hazy with his accent, sliding over consonants and coasting the vowels. "What is he sending?"

"So, um, like... This double-... Uh, double-murder and stuff. These people that were killed and just, like, their kid survived, Tristan Higgs. Except then he disappears-... just drops off the face of the earth. But no obit or anything.”

Jake and Antoni look at each other, the men sharing an expression that communicates a wealth of information Laken isn't privy to. But the one thing they don't show is any surprise.

"-and... Ben's been messaging the guy that posted the video, and-... They're gonna meet, um, in a couple days. At, you know where La Mode is? The ice cream place where they filmed that bit in that old Vince Shield movie-"

"I know where La Mode is, yeah," Jake says, watching Laken carefully. He hasn't looked at them like this in a long time, since he first met them - calculating and slightly cold, considering the risk they pose to Chris and to everyone else in his house.

"I also am knowing that place," Antoni says with a nod, putting a hand on Jake's arm. Jake is tense - Laken didn't realize it until he suddenly relaxes, consciously, now. "Why is Ben wanting to talk to this man?"

"I, I don't know. He kind of, he's really intense about this stuff. You know, when he found out Chris was, um, was... a pet..." The word is ash on their tongue, gums up around their teeth, makes their stomach flip in disgust. "... He kind of lost his shit once we got Chris calm about it. I think he thought-... Uh, you know, people like Chris, they get targeted, and... so he's been thinking about that.”

“This isn’t his business, Laken,” Jake says, weary, closing his eyes.

“No, I know, but he's got a little brother who's the same age Chris was when-... this video must have been made. Who’s a lot like him. So I think he's... I don't know. Maybe thinking, you know, if it was his brother, he’d want someone to do all this... if-... if someone took his brother away."

"Yeah, I get it." Jake swallows, sitting up slowly, rubbing at his face. He's got a day-old stubble along his jaw, the kind that made Laken grin a little when they saw the rubbed-red, irritated jawline of the guy with black hair who answered the door, Chris's other brother kind of.

The one that Laken met the night Dylan told Ben and them where Chris really came from. Except... not this. Dylan hadn't known this.

"So, we need to get Chris ready-"

"Get me ready for, for, for what? Laken, why, why are you here?"

Laken closes their eyes and lets out a slow, soft sigh. Of course - the one night they needed Chris's rehearsal to run full-length is the one night he comes back early. They turn to look at Chris and give him a slight smile. "Hey, querido, we just, um-... So, there's..."

The video has still been playing in the background, forgotten, and the music kicks into the crescendo where the second gymnast steps up, catching Chris's attention. "What's, what's that? Is, is, is, is is is it-"

He goes silent as Tristan Higgs steps into place, shoots his bright smile towards Akio Nakamura, and does his first set of flips and spins.

The three of them watch Chris watching Tristan Higgs. They watch his backpack slide off his shoulder and thump to the ground. They watch his eyes - the perfect match to the eyes of the boy on the screen - follow Tristan and Akio dancing briefly back to back, his laughter as he drops his head onto Akio's shoulder.

Something in the line of his shoulders tightens. His skin is pale under the freckles, his hair suddenly seems too garishly bright against the rest of him. There are shadows under his eyes Laken has never seen before. He looks younger... and haunted.

They hold their breath until it ends, the two boys hugging and laughing, Tristan bouncing and rocking and flapping ecstatically when the routine went off without a hitch.

The video cycles to the next one, a different set of Nakamura's. Chris blinks and then looks at the three of them, eyes moving from one to the next. "Why... are you watching... that?"

His voice shifts, change, slips into a drip-drop of words, a slowly leaking faucet language that Laken barely understands when compared to his usual mile-a-minute. He stands perfectly still.

Once again, Jake and Antoni aren't surprised.

"Chrisha," Antoni says, gently. Jake's jaw works, maybe fighting for words that don't come. "That is you, we think. You were... are Tristan Higgs."

Chris's eyes move to Antoni. Then back to Jake. "No," He says, simply. "I'm... not."

"Chris?" Laken feels a wash of uncertainty. "Are you okay? We're pretty sure this is you."

Chris stares right through Laken, eyes empty, full of a kind of fog all their love can't break through. "No, I, I'm not. I'm... not him."

Jake is the one to push himself to his feet first, taking Chris gently by the arm to walk him back towards the doorway. "Chris-"

"I'm... not, not him," Chris says, looking up at Jake, up and up and up. "I'm... not, Jake."

Chris, Laken's sunshine boy, their love and light and life, is a dull bit of broken rock, sodden earth after too much rain, the sooty stumps of trees in an empty wildfire-wrecked field.

"I know it's hard," Jake says, folding Chris into his arms, and Laken watches with a twist of something that isn't quite jealousy, but isn't that far off. Chris will always turn to Jake, first. They can't compete with that - they don't want to, even, they just sort of wish they could. "I know, Chris. But Laken's right, this kid... I think that might really be you."

"No," Chris whispers, burying his head into Jake's chest. "No, no, no. I'm... not. I, I make myself, I made Chris, I don't want to, to, to to to-to be anyone else anymore..."

"You're still Chris," Jake murmurs, and holds him close. "You're still my brother. This just tells us maybe a little bit about what happened before I met you, that's all. That's it, Chris. Nothing has to change."

"Everything changed," Chris whispers, pulling slowly back. "Because I, I did it wrong. I, I, I moved, wasn't... I was, was supposed to hide... and, and be so quiet..." His hands move, one finger up to his lips, as though shushing himself. The empty look in his eyes is cracking open to a well of pain that Laken, for all the times they've held him after nightmares and all the meltdowns they've seen... They've never seen it quite like this. 

He pulls away from Jake, and slowly picks his backpack up from the floor.

"Chris?" Laken shifts forward, but the look on his face when he glances back at them makes them stop short. "Baby, I-"

"Go... home, Laken," Chris says, and turns away from them. "Tris, Tristan Higgs is, is, is, is dead. He, he, he... he he-... he, k-... killed people, and he’s, he’s, he’s dead.” 

He's gone, his feet heavy on the stairs, before Laken can say another word.

Jake and Antoni glance at each other - another immense conversation contained in a single shared look - and then Jake sighs. "Come in, Laken. I'll drive you back to campus. Ant, if you'll-"

"Watch the house and speak to Chrisha. Got it." Antoni gives Laken a soft, sympathetic smile. "These things are not easy," He says, softly. "You cannot pick yourself back up again, simple as that, start a story where you were left off. I will speak with him."

"But, I should-"

"You'll make it worse," Jake says, rough-edged again.

"Harder," Antoni gently corrects. "He will need us, who know what it is they do to our minds, tonight."

"Wh-what do they do?” Laken looks from one of the men to the other. “I, I know memory loss, I get that, and he was clearly-... hurt, so much, but-”

“They take a frightened man-... or, child,” Antoni says, voice gentle as always. “And they teach us that the person we were before was so terrible that the person we are now exists only to suffer.”

“But he’s just a kid, there, in that video,” Laken says, a token protest, voice weak. Antoni’s smile widens, slightly, in its sympathy for them. “There’s no kid on earth who could possibly deserve that. He doesn’t even remember what happened!”

“You do not have to remember a crime to be told you are responsible for it.”

“But-”

Antoni takes their hands in his, looking them right in the eyes. “When you are alone, and frightened, and desperate to survive... you will believe anything that gives you the slightest chance for a way out.”

Laken swallows, hard, thinking of Chris whispering after a nightmare one night, they made me a Romantic pet because I was a slut who wanted it all the time - their sunshine boy, who never ever does, effortlessly believing a lie, repeating back the names they called him, acting unbothered and like he barely noticed his own words.

Laken swallows back a flip of disgust at the idea of a teenager being taught to hate himself that way. 

“Wh-what happens if he remembers everything they made him forget?” Laken’s voice is a whisper.

“If we’re lucky,” Jake says gruffly, “He doesn’t remember it all at once. If we’re not-”

A wail shatters their conversation, a low keening cry from upstairs, muffled by distance and closed doors, a sound of wild screaming wordless grief. All three of them flinch as there’s a resounding crash and a slammed door.

“If we not, that happens,” Jake says, and he’s on his feet and up the stairs before Laken can remind him that he’d said he would take them home. They move to stand, but Antoni lays a hand on their arm.

“Jake, first,” He says softly. “It is easy to be overwhelmed, in these moments. Jake first, and then you.”

What they feel now is definitely a little bit jealousy.

And guilt.

Chris’s screaming, his misery and pain, seems to go on forever, twist itself into the walls of the house and burrow in. Antoni leaves to comfort frightened people who stick their heads out of doors and ask what’s going on, people Laken doesn’t know and has never been introduced to. They look at Laken, consider them, and Antoni speaks to them with soft reassurance while Laken feels helpless, and hopeless, and pointless in this house full of hurting people, while their own hurting person finds comfort in his brother, not in them.

They turn back to look at Jake’s laptop, sitting alone and watching a group of gymnasts hugging after getting their scores, laughing.

The title dates it as a year after the dancing video.

By the time this one was filmed, Tristan Higgs was already gone.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp  , @finder-of-rings  , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure  , @slaintetowhump  , @astrobly  @newandfiguringitout  , @doveotions  , @pretty-face-breaker  , @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @moose-teeth  , @cubeswhump  , @cupcakes-and-pain  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary  @orchidscript

[killerqueenishere]

The ball | Draco Malfoy x Slytherin! Reader

Warning: Maybe some swear words and fluff and this is kinf of long

Description: You are in Slytherin and friends with golden trio and Draco and here is coming a Yule Ball, will Draco ask you to go with him? (AU where Voldemort is defeated in the first war and Slytherin and Gryffindor are on good tearms and Malfoy and golden trio are friends)

A/N: sorry for any spelling mistakes English is not my first language

Enjoy

You were sitting with Hermione on transfiguration when professor McGonagall announce that there will be a ball, through class room was mixed emotions, some of the students groaned at the idea of going to the ball and dancing all night, while some was very excited for the upcoming event.

When class was dismissed you walked with Hermione towards great hall "We need to get dresses" she said "Well there is Hogsmade trip tomorrow, we can go and buy dresses" you smiled at the girl next to you.

"Hey why didn't you waited on us" said Ron a bit angry behind you two "Well you know way to great hall yourself" you said walking inside the big room, waving to Hermione you walked to Slytherin table with Draco.

Hogsmade

Hermione and you left boys at the very beginning of Hogsmade, you two headed towards Gladrags Wizardwear to look for night gowns.

"Wow" you mumbled under your breath "How are we going to decide what to wear whit so many beautiful dresses" you looked around "Well we need to try, besides we will know the right dress when we see it" she said walking further in the shop "Like this one, it is mesmerising" she said while touching the soft material of the pink dress "it is beautiful, you should try it" you said looking up at her.

While you waited for her you wandered around thw shop looking at dresses that was there, they were all beautiful but you just didn't thought that they were for you.

"Y/n" you turned around, when your eyes layed on the nervous girl in front of you, you immediately smiled "You look beautiful" gou said making her a bit more relaxed "Really?" She asked "Really, it looks beautiful on you, you should buy it" she nodded her head looking at herself in the mirror "You are right, I will buy it"

You were back to looking at the dresses, sighing slowly when you didn't found anything "Have you found something" Hermione said walking towards you "Nope" you said popping the p "let me help you"

She was looking for dress, you kind of lose hope that you will find good dress "What about this one?" She said holding baby blue silk dress "It is beautiful, but" she nodded "Okey" she said turning to look through dresses again, but before she could show you next dress you started walking away from her, towards the grey dress that catched your eye.

You walked towards it like enchanted, touching the soft fabric of the dress and following the flowers that were on her, you were in awe "Hermione" you said that so low that you were sure that she didn't heard it "Wow, it is beautiful" she said from beside you "Yeah it is" you said smiling "That then means that you find the right one"

Walking towards tree broomstick with big smiles on your faces and bags in hands, Harry, Ron and Draco were already in pub waiting on you two, they had butterbear in front of them while talking about Quidditch

"Hey guys" you said sitting next to Draco, tree boys gave you two a bright smile "Have you heard who is coming to the ball?" You asked expectedly "No" Deaco said looking at you with furrowed eyebrows "The Weird Sisters!" You cheerfully said "I cannot wait to see them live, especially the drummer" Ron groaned "Ginny is obsessed with them" Harry looked confused "Who are they?"

"They are the best rock band ever! They are amazing" low sigh left your lips "I hope that they will play my favourite song 'Magic works' such a beautiful slow song"

Hogwarts

You were currently walking towards the secret sport near Grear lake, you discovered that place in your second year with Draco, you two would often come there to just talk or sit in silence, you two fould comfort in each other, that is one of milion reasons that you feel for him.

Just as you got out from castle Hermione run up to you "You won't believe who asked me to go with him" she said "So Ron finally got some balls" you said laughing "Well actually no" hearing that you stopped laughing to look at her "Actually Krum asked me to go with him and I said yes" she said "Since Ron will not ask me than I will go with Krum" you nodded "What about you? Did Draco asked you" you shook your head "Nope" Hermione groaned "Boys" she shook her head "Yeah well if someone ask me than I will say yes"

One week until Yule Ball

"Hey Y/n" you turned to your left to see who that is and you saw Cedric, an older Hufflepuff who was in the tournament "Hello" you politely smiled at taller boy "Can I ask you something" he said while one if his hands filed to his wavy hair "Sure" he cleared his voice "Do you want to maybe go with me to the ball" he askrd "Sure" even if you didn't want to go with him but since the guy who you want did asked you you accepted "Cool" he smiled before he started walking away.

The Yule Ball

You did Hermione's hair and make up before doing yours, in the middle of you applying your lipstick Hermione walked out od bathroom "Hermione you look beautiful, Krum will love it" she smiled "Thank you so much" you hugged her "you are welcome" you said "Go and change or we will be late" you nodded while going to bathroom

(Your look)

You walked down the stairs with Hermione by your side, in front of great hall was Harry and his date, Krum was looking lovely in Hermione but your eyes landed on platinum haired boy talking with one Slytherin girl, she was beautiful, she had black silk dress amd hair hair feel down her shoulders in waves, you turned your gaze to Cedric, you weren't able to look at Draco and her it pained you.

Cedric took your hand in his while smiling at you "You look beautiful" blushing a little you thanked him.

You were in awe, the great hall was beautiful and soft piano piece was played in the background, turning to face Cedric, taking his hand in one hand while you placed other on his shoulder, you began the first dance.

You felt guilty for thinking about Draco while talking or dancing with Cedric but you couldn't help yourself, you catched yourself looking occasionally at platinum boy

"Why didn't you go with him?" Turning your head to look at Cedric you asked "with who?" He smiled "With Deaco, you've been looking at him almost all night" you looked down "I'm sorry" he placed his finger underneath your chin so he coulf make you look up at him "Don't be sorry, we cannot help who whe like, I was planning on asking Cho but she already had a date" he tried to smile but he failed "Well Draco never asked me to go with him" you admitted "I'm sorry" he said "For what? It is not your fault"

"What is wrong with Cho?" You asked turning away from Cedric "it looks like they are talking her to hospital wing" you looked at Cedric only to see sad and worried expression "You should go to her" you said "What about you?" You smiled at him "I will be fine, now go and be with her" Cedric hugged you while mumbling thanks.

You were leaning on a wall watching everyone having fun, this was supposed to be fun night, you were supposed to go with Draco, you were supposed to dance now but instead you were left alone, you didn't blame Cedric for leaving to go to Cho, you would do the same thing if you were on his place.

"What are you doing here alone" turning away to look who that is you said "I could ask you the same thing Draco" he moved to lean on the wall next to you "Well my date left early" you nodded "Well Cedric is in hospital wing with Cho" you answer to his previous question "Ah yes I saw her going to the hospital wing, I think that she is allergic to something that was in punch" he laughed softly "Hey that is not funny at all!" You said while playfully hitting his arm "Sorry, you are tight"

"Poor Cho" You said while looking around "Yeah" Deaco agreed, than you heard all too familiar tune of your favourite song from The Weird Sisters and smiled a bit.

"May I have this dance with you" Draco asked as he extended his hand to you, you looked at his soft hand and than at his icy blue eyes "Yes you may" you said while talking his hand in yours.

You two danced softly and in the middle of a song you placed your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, you wanted to stay like this forever, you wanted to always be this close to him

"You know, I actually wanted to ask you to go with me" you pushed your head away from his chest to look at him "Why didn't you" you asked "Well I honestly wanted to think of a special way to ask you and than one day I saw Cedric asking you and you said yes to him and well and my heart broke a bit so I asked the first person that came my way" he said looking away "Wait, I thought that you didn't want to go with me amd I said that next person who asks me that I will go with him, I didn't had Idea that you wanted to go with me, I was so disappointed and sad because I am not going with you" Draco now looked at you "God this whole thing was a bit messed up" he laughed softly and you could listen to that sound your whole life "I really like you and when I saw you tonight I wished so much that you are going with me" you two stopped dancing and his hands were now on your neck "I really, really like you too" you smiled at him "Good, now I can finally do this" and his lips met yours in a soft kiss, he tasted like green apples and mint, his lips were softer than cotton, you pulled away after few moments smiling at each other.

This night ended better than you expected it to.

[ma-gic-gay]

A few hours, two kisses, and one nap later, he begins plotting his escape. It mainly consists of signing a discharge form and then hunting down Cyrus. Then, he'll kill him. Fairly simple, and does provide a good distraction from the chaos his personal life has become. His business/mob life has been fairly normal, no new competitors yet.

"What are you planning?" Carly asks, looking up from the iPad she's probably planning Morgan's return from the dead party on.

"How long until I can get out of here?" Hospital rooms inspire him to run very far away from them. They keep him cooped up, they're boring as all hell, and there's really no choice as to who can walk in at any given time.

"Probably tomorrow," she answers and he groans. "It's not the end of the world, Jason. It's one more night in a hospital bed." Debatable. It's a whole twelve hours, minimum.

"Or I could just sign my discharge form now and break out of here."

"No, you need to stay at least for tonight. Break out tomorrow."

"I don't want to."

"Just let them monitor you. Sleep. You won't be able to do much out there anyways. I'm pretty sure the doctors are going to tell you to relax and take it easy, which means taking a short leave of absence. Brando can handle it for a few more days."

"There could be a takeover-"

"Not without any talk. Come on, if I thought there was any threat, I'd be breaking you out of here myself," she reminds him. "Take a nap."

"I'm not sure that's the best decision." Actually, it's more time that he'd be a suspect in Cyrus's murder (that, rest assured, he will commit) and more time Cyrus gets to breathe the same air as him. "Stop the thoughts about it being unsafe because you're not going to be able to do anything. You're recovering from surgeries and a gunshot wound."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing everything," he responds, fidgeting again with the stupid IV. He'll break that thing out of him if that's what it takes.

"I'm sure you are, but stop pouting. Sleep. Take a nap. Enjoy your break from reality for a day or two and just relax," Carly reasons. You know it's bad when Carly's being the reasonable one.

"This isn't pouting, it's captivity."

"No one's holding you captive."

"I'm being forced to be in a room against my will. This could be a hostage situation," he says dramatically.

"Well, as cute as your pouting is, you're spending the night. Take a nap. Enjoy it," she smiles. "Oh, and by the way, you're not killing Cyrus."

There's a lot to take in there but we'll start with the obvious: "I didn't even say I was planning on it."

She rolls her eyes, "You didn't have to, I can see the plan formulating in your mind. No murder. Cyrus will live for the rest of his miserable life in prison without you sending someone to rough him up or kill him."

Sometimes it's a shame how well she knows him. It genuinely sucks sometimes because she can read him like a book. No matter how successful he is at hiding everything from, well, pretty much everyone else, she just rolls her eyes and lets him know exactly what he's doing. Half the time, she knows before he does. The other half, she's informing him it's normal to express your emotions.

"I don't think he should even be able to walk around," he admits, struggling somewhat to voice the hatred he feels for the other mobster. "I've wanted to kill the guy for years, ever since I laid eyes on him. Going after you, kidnapping and raping you as some sort of sick revenge against me was the last straw."

"It was stupid to go after me and he'll pay. For the rest of his life, he'll be in prison. Solitary, you said. He can't run his business in solitary. Cyrus will never be able to hurt me or anyone else again," Carly says, grasping his hand and squeezing it. "He's a piece of shit. I look forward to the day he's in jail, serving his sentence. But it's probably going to be a few weeks."

"Which provides plenty of opportunity-"

"He lives. You're not going to jail because of him, Jason. Cyrus isn't worth it, alright? I don't care if he dies tomorrow. If you go to jail, I'll have to break you out of there myself and that probably won't go too well," she laughs at that. "So, save us all the paperwork and don't kill him. Besides, I confronted him."

She- confronted- "You did what? Carly, that is a man who could kill you and threatened to! He's very much capable of keeping that threat! Did you want to die?"

What inspired her to go confront her kidnapper/rapist? What made her think that was the sane thing to do while he was unconscious in a hospital bed?! She could've died and he can't have that happening because it'd be his fault. It's also such an ugly thought he can't stand to think of it. Carly cannot die.

"I brought guards, I threatened him, I yelled and screamed, I also cried for a while," she summarizes. "And to answer your question, I don't have a death wish. There's children I have to take care of and I'm not done complicating your life yet. I've got at least ten more years left in me."

"You confronted a man who could kill you."

"With guards, Jason."

"That doesn't make it okay! Carly, you can't act like there wasn't a good chance you could've died! You can't reason with people like Cyrus, you can't go in on your own."

"I. Brought. Guards."

"And they could've died too. He took out a whole group of them once, an entire warehouse of the Novak crew."

"You're acting like I didn't know what I was doing! I knew exactly what I was doing and it was either that or wonder if you'd live to tell me I'm being stupid again, Jason. Which choice would you have made?" Carly asks, tears building up in her eyes. No, he's mad, don't start crying. That'll make him sad. No crying, Carly, please don't. "I'm not so unknowledgeable when it comes to the business, you know."

"No, but you don't know how the business works. Things like that, impulsive things, they get people killed! They're the things that cause people to die and not the type you can come back from. You can't be doing things like that and pulling stunts like threatening Cyrus. He has nothing left to lose, which means he has everything to gain. If he can kill you, which is what he wants to do, that'll be a win for him and a final way to get back at me. That's what he wants and you're playing right into it." Jason exclaims. Emotional outbursts are rare for him, which probably made the point more clear. He hopes so. Losing her-

That's a thought almost too painful to bear thinking of.

"I was worried you would die! Jason, I couldn't spend another hour in this room or getting harassed by Sam. I needed to do something, make some statement," Carly argues and he shakes his head. Does she not get it? She could've died.

"And you couldn't go to work at the Metro Court? You had to go and confront a man who wants you dead almost as much as he wants me dead, Carly! It was stupid. You could've died."

"I was safe-"

"You don't get it! Doing that, no matter how many guards are there, isn't safe. I don't care if you had the place full with guards, he wants you six feet under and he wants me even further. What if he shot you? What if he hurt you? What if he killed you?" Emotions just seem to flow out of him like water does down a river at this point, anger and hurt and worry and sadness all combined into one.

"He didn't-"

"Not this time. Next time, he could. You could've gotten hurt or killed or shot at and I'm not going to be the reason for that."

"Well there won't be a next time."

"How can you be so sure about that, Carly? You don't control him. He's his own person; he does what he wants, exactly when he wants, exactly how he wants. And he could've hurt you."

"Every single time you agrees to one of those meetings with him or left to go, seemingly, anywhere, I thought the same thing. He's tried to get to you a million times. But you didn't die."

"I didn't die because I'm aware of the intricacies of the business! You're not and, as much as I'm grateful you're not, I can't have you running around picking fights with people who want you dead, who want me dead."

"Do you want a fake apology?" Carly snaps. "Do you want me to pretend like I didn't know that? I'm all too aware of the fact that everytime I leave the house, I could get shot at and die or that everytime I see you it might be the last time because of your line of work. I am intimately familiar with the anxieties of waiting in a hospital room to see if you're going to wake up or not from yet another injury. You're acting like it's my first day as someone who cares about people in your line of work and you're wrong. It's not. I knew damn well what I was doing and I know you would've done the same if they'd shot me."

Well. He didn't think of that. Anger sort of half drowns inside of him, flopping but still very much there at her beyond dumb move. "You're right. I would've killed him if he'd shot you or hurt you. But that doesn't make that you get to go out and pick fights with him because you're worried. It means you've got to be careful, stay in groups. It means-"

"Don't tell me what I should've done."

"What would you like me to do, congratulate you? Congratulations, Carly, you could've died! You could've died and if I woke up to that knowledge I don't know what I'd do."

"You'd keep surviving. Probably throw yourself into the business even more, to a point I don't think it'd be healthy." Carly shakily says, clearly having thought about it. "You'd tell Donna all about me when she started to forget I existed."

"You've thought of this?" Jason asks, incredulous. "You've thought about what I'd do if you died?"

"When we thought you were gone, I thought about what you would've done if roles were reversed."

There's a solid 20% chance she's pulling at his heartstrings right now to get sympathy and it's working. 100%. She could be completely playing him and he'd believe it at this point.

He hugs her as best as he can in the hospital bed. "I wasn't dead. You're not dead, thankfully. But you can't take risks with your life, not like that. Your kids need their mom. People need you. I'd miss you."

"How nice, I sobbed myself to sleep for weeks because you were gone and you'd miss me." Tugging at the heart, yet again.

"Oh come on, Carly. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah I do."

It's a strange bond they've got (and a strange life he's got), but at least they can count on one thing: their friendship. Hence why kissing and stuff can't mean anything or complicate things. They've been in each other's lives so long, if they dated or something and it went south, he doesn't know if they could bounce back. And that's a terrifying thought, that they could be,,, not friends.

To be continued after I change my tampon and sleep because I'm fucking tired :)

@ryleighjosephine

[fromryloth-tocorellia]

Just gonna slide in here for the meta ask for writers 🙃 #10 and #20?

10. How would you describe your writing process?

A concept/idea/piece of dialogue is beamed directly into my brain. I become possessed by the writing gods and cannot know peace until the entire thing has exited my fingers. I slam out a 5000 word oneshot at 3am. I then write nothing for three weeks.

A concept/idea/piece of dialogue is beamed directly into my brain. I become possessed by the writing gods and write until I work through it to a decent stopping point before going to write the next part. This pause can be anywhere from a few hours to several months before I write more. It may or may not ever be completed.

A concept/idea/piece of dialogue is beamed directly into my brain. It is in some way incomplete. I do not know how to start it. It sits in my brain and I mess with it and poke at it for days. I want to write it. The words will not go until the Time is Right. (Does it ever actually get written or does it live in limbo as a frequently discussed concept that never actually sees a page?)

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

G o d s I'm a sucker for the found family "loner/traumatised/unloved character realising they are loved unconditionally, by someone whom they love unconditionally but hadn't realised felt the same way" trope, like!!!! Nothing gives me life like "maybe the mortifying ordeal of being known IS worth it actually," especially if the character realises the unconditional love through unspoken means (e.g. the person who has issues around touch gives them a hug/catches them when they stumble, the one who hates being seen as weak allows the other to comfort them, "I know you get tunnel vision when you hyperfocus, so I brought you food and some coffee," picking up a little gift you know they need but haven't actually asked for, etc); this usually pairs with the "incredibly protective of my little fucked up family because it's mine, they're mine" trope

See: Blink, Cain, Morpheus, Brae, Jaig, Shrari, Eclipse

[finnwolfhard7137]

The Art of Falling in Love-Finn Wolfhard × Reader

Chapter Three is here...

Chapter Four: Paradise

Word Count 2.4k

Warnings: some fluff

_____________________________________

Oakes wakes you and Miles up by shaking the both of you like rag dolls.

Oakes "GUYS!" 

"Huh? What's going on?" You look at Finn who is still behind you and he is laughing his ass off.

Finn "We literally just slept outside all night." You face-palm and laugh.

Oakes "Not going to lie...that's fucking goals." Finn laughed even harder and pulled you tighter into his side.

Oakes "Did you guys not go into your trailers all night?"

You both "No."

Finn "I honestly didn't wake up at all last night."

"Neither did I and I always wake up at least once during the night-"

Finn "Me too."

Oakes "Well, you two lovebirds...it's 6:30, let's eat before we have to film." You both agree and get off of the ground.

"Shit...I got your hoodie dirty." You look at the sleeves and sigh.

Finn "Don't worry about it, I can wash it. I wouldn't change anything about last night for the world." You blush and lean into him. You spot Oakes chuckle at you two, to which you kiddingly flip him off. He repays the favor and you both just laugh like three children. 

You get taken into your trailer first for makeup and hair because you take the longest to get done, Finn and Oakes just relaxed while you were gone. Oakes noticed that Finn watched as you left and hit him on the shoulder.

Finn "What?!"

Oakes "You love her don't you?"

Finn "I sure as hell like her. What's not to like?"

Oakes "She is pretty great, you two look good together."

Finn "I haven't asked her yet, Oakes. I don't wanna rush her into anything."

Oakes "I think that she likes you too, Finn. If that is what you are worried about, you are crazy."

Finn "I just don't want to mess anything up with her, she isn't like anyone I have ever met, she is like...perfect! Y/n is like the girl that I have always imagined being with..I don't know how to explain it-"

Oakes "I know what you mean dude. You don't need to explain it, I totally get it."

Finn simply nods and takes a drink of his water.

Oakes "Just ask her dude, she's gonna say yes."

Finn "I will eventually, Oakes." Oakes rolls his eyes and he punches him in the arm and starts to laugh, "You are so pushy!" 

Oakes "Hey, I just support it! My two best friend's together...like fuck yeah I want it to happen!"

Finn "Thank you, that means a lot. I want to ask her properly...maybe I'll take her somewhere beautiful, other than the desert. Make it memorable, ya know."

Oakes "Yeah, that would be good." They continued to talk until it was their turn to get ready for the day. When you came out, Finn was walking towards his trailer which happened to be right next to yours and winks at you. You almost trip on the last step because he is just so damn cute.

…

You read your script and today, you go to school with Oakes and Boris: He doesn't leave yours and Oakes' side the whole school day, he rides with you on the bus and afterwards, you and Oakes go to his house. It sounds really fun from how the script put it so today is going to be exciting. When he comes out of his trailer, he is wearing a black blazer with a skateboarding graphic t-shirt. He honestly looks so good that you almost drool! You look away so that you don't get caught staring, in a few moments you feel his arms wrap around your neck, across your chest in a warm embrace. You can't help but smile and grab his arm in acceptance.

Finn "Well don't you look beautiful!"

"I have this stupid prosthetic on..how can I be beautiful?"

Finn "You are! Makeup, no makeup..prosthetic or no prosthetic. And hey, you won't have to wear it the whole time." 

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to future scenes.." he let go of you and crouches down in front of you and smiles. "What?"

Finn "Stop..just stop being self conscious, you are fucking perfect so stop." You smile and pull him up to you to give him a hug. You want to do more but you want him to make the first move...obviously. He hugs you tighter and you just melt. 

__________________________________

John "Action!" 

Theo "Boris, Pippa is going to join us today."

Boris "Is she really? Excellent!"

Theo "Yeah but she's worried about ya know...getting bullied."

Boris "I like her, I won't let them pick on her. She cannot help it." You come into the view and Finn smiles down at you. 

"Hey Boris."

Boris "Hey! You've been good, yes?"

"Yes." 

Theo "Come on, we are gonna be late to first period." When you get in the classroom, the classroom stared at your head. Some girls were even laughing. Boris noticed and got in front of you.

Boris "You got a problem, ay?! This woman survived a fucking bombing, show her some respect." The girls immediately started to apologize. All you were told to do was shake your head and take a seat next to Finn which you do. 

"Thank you."

Boris "Of course." Theo looked behind him and saw you two talking and gave Boris a smile like, thank you. 

John "Cut! Perfect guys." You immediately go back to your normal self as soon as he yelled 'cut' and took a deep breath. Growing up as a kid, you used to get bullied so to have to reenact what you really had to go through, was rough mentally. 

Finn "I almost lost my shit…"

"Oh really?"

Finn "Yeah, I hate bullies."

"Me too, but thankfully it's just for the movie." He agreed but before he could say anything, John yelled 'action'.

….

The school day is over and you all get on the same bus. Finn and Oakes sit next to each other and you sit by yourself on the next row.

Boris "Did you enjoy school today?"

"Kinda."

Theo "Well you did good for your first day back, Pippa."

"Thanks-"

Boris "How about you both come over my house? I have drinks."

Theo "Drinks?"

Boris "Yeah, I have beer at my house. You two should come over."

Theo "Do you want too?"

"Yeah, I don't mind."

Boris "Good. Hey, I didn't tell you earlier but um, I think that you look very pretty today Pippa."

"R-really?"

Boris "Of course." Theo nudges him so hard that he almost fell off of his seat, he immediately shoved him back but even harder. Earning a laugh from you, making Oakes look at you with a shock on his face.

Theo "Y-you laughed!"

Boris "So? Everyone laughs."

Theo "No...you don't get it. Pippa hasn't laughed since the bombing." Finn looks over at you and smiles from ear to ear, making you happy. 

"You guys make me happy. No one else does." Finn grabbed your hand from across the aisle. You don't remember that being in the script but you really don't care. 

John "Cut." The school bus stops and you all get out of the bus. 

John "Lunch break guys, you did good."

"Can I get the prosthetic off? It is starting to hurt."

John "Of course, Y/n. Next week, the movie skips a month in advance so you won't have to wear it anymore. Just hang in there for two more days and it'll be off for good."

"Alright, awesome. Thank you!" Finn walks up to you and kisses your forehead.

"Ima get this thing off, you can join me if you want." 

Finn "After you." 

Bill "oohh it started to come off."

...

"Is that why it started to hurt?"

Bill "yeah, the glue was pulling on your fine hairs."

Finn "Prosthetics hurt in general."

Bill "This is true. I have never had a client be excited to get them applied."

"I was on the first day, not anymore." You three laugh. 

It takes a good minute to get it all taken off and your hair fixed up. Finn didn't leave the seat next to you the whole time, he just talked to you and complimented you on today's performance so far. He has been your biggest supporter all week and it never gets old: hearing one of your idols tell you how amazing you are doing...doesn't get better in this line of work. 

Oakes comes in, "They got a whole buffet...you guys are missing out!"

Finn looks at you so intensely that you burst out laughing. He picks you up and carries you out of the trailer, running all of the way to the free buffet. 

John "Hungry?"

Finn "uh...a little-" he says grabbing a whole plate full of food. 

Oakes "look at him, he's a freakin' giraffe! He needs his food.." Finn almost chokes on his food from laughing so hard. Finn is really tall, especially in person. 

"You aren't wrong!" He sits down and pulls you onto his lap. John and the rest of the film crew just smile at the sight. 

__________________________________

When you three got to the house, the camera's started rolling when you guys sat down in his unfilled pool with beers and cigarettes.

John "Action." 

Boris "Would you like vodka?"

You and Theo "No thanks."

Boris "My dad drinks it all the time, so much he can not feel his feet. Literally, it has a name."

"Is it just you two here?"

Boris "Yes. My mother is dead."

Theo "Mine too."

Boris "Mine was alchie...got drunk and fell out the window."

"Jesus."

Boris "Did you lose anyone...ya know. When Theo did."

"My uncle. He took me because it was for my birthday, I just wanted to see the beautiful art with him and then..well you know. It is all my fault."

Theo "Hey, it isn't your fault."

"You blame yourself too, Theo."

Boris "You both are wrong. Don't blame yourselves! You guys didn't know that that was going to happen."

"Change the subject." Finn thought for a moment.

Boris "What is your favorite art piece in the museum."

"It is a piece called The Goldfinch."

Theo "That is where I met her, we were all looking at that painting before it all happened."

Boris "Wow...All I gotta say is that I am glad that you are here, Pippa. With you and Theo here, it is a lot less lonely."

"I am glad much happier here. You wouldn't think that the desert is better than a city but it is to me. Especially now, it is much quieter."

Theo "It will be easier for you to heal."

"Yeah, hopefully."

Boris "Don't you worry, we will all get through our own struggles together."

John "And...cut! Fantastic job guys!" This scene only took one shot to master. You three high five and get undressed because that was it for the day, the rest is for Ansel and Aneurin who play Theo and Boris older in the movie.

…

Aneurin "You make my job hard, Finn...how am I supposed to top that?"

Finn "Oh you can do it, I didn't even do anything."

Aneurin "That is my point!" Ansel joins you, Finn, Aneurin and Oakes.

Ansel "You did great today guys! I'm very impressed." You all thank him. 

Oakes "What are you shooting today?"

Ansel "With Nicole..I'm visiting her after years of not seeing her."

"Oof so an emotional day?"

Ansel "Oh yeah."

Oakes "You've got this. You can cry on command."

"You can?"

Ansel "Mhm."

"If you can cry when I tell you too, I will pay you 20 bucks right now."

Ansel "You are on!"

".....Now!" Sadly..he does in seconds. 

Ansel "Pay up, Y/n!"

"Fuck you." You hand him the 20 dollar bill, laughing in defeat. You didn't know that he could cry that quickly, or that anyone could for that matter.

John "We are shooting in 5!" 

Aneurin "I'll see you guys later." The two boys left and started shooting. 

__________________________________

You three ended up watching them film: taking in their movements and the way they say some words and how they react to comments and such. 

Finn "Hey, it's getting late. Wanna go for a drive?"

"Yeah, I'm down. Oakes, you coming?"

Oakes "Nah, you guys go ahead. Have fun."

Finn smirks at you and runs to his car, opening up the door for you. 

"Where are we going?"

Finn "I know a beautiful place back here, I've been waiting for an opportunity to take you."

"Ohh I'm excited." In the drive there, you text your mother about your amazing day and sing songs with Finn. When you are with him, it is just pure happiness and bliss. You have never experienced this feeling before: crushes yes, dating yes but not actually being in love with someone completely and fully and getting that same energy in return. 

…

Finn "We are almost here. I want you to close your eyes!"

"Really?!"

Finn "Yeah, come on close em." You feel the car stop and you hear him put the gear in park. He gets out of the car and he helps you out. A few steps forward, you can feel the sand beneath your toes.

"The beach?!"

Finn "Just wait." You two walk until he stops. "Okay, open." You open to see the most beautiful sunset over the waves.

"Oh my god. It's so..beautiful."

Finn "I knew that you would love it. I remember when we all went to Chick-fil-a, you told me that you loved the beach."

"I do, it's my paradise." Finn smiles at how amazed you are at your view. But to him, you are his view. You are way more beautiful to him than the ocean. He puts his arms around your waist and watches the waves crash onto the shore with you in his arms.

To be continued...

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