#but i don't judge who have second thoughts about it

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Okay sad thought, puts down notecards, prepares you with a box of tissues.

There's a building collapse.

Scratch that.

There are multiple building collapses. The first one fell into its neighbor and took that building down along with the next one. So, yeah, the 118 is called in but so are several other fire stations.

The 118 isn't the first to show up on the scene, and Buck thinks nothing of it.

It's the job.

And of course other stations would be there.

And what he sees at first is one fully collapsed building with two partially collapsed. They seem stable enough to sift through; look for survivors. One station has already started the search in one of the buildings.

The 118 preps to go into the first original building when - another collapse. More of the building has fallen into itself.

It's only barely stable enough for first responders to go in.

And.

Judging from comms, their are several firefighters inside who have either lost connection or might be injured now.

Buck doesn't think much of it.

Not that he doesn't care, but it's again part of the job. He needs to focus on how to help everyone in there - both those who were inside when the building originally collapsed and those inside during the second collapse.

They start to walk through and.

And.

Maybe on the comms.

Buck hears a call for Go for Kinard. Respond, Kinard.

And there's this sinking feeling.

This sinking feeling that grips Buck as he, Eddie, and Chimney pair up, walking through to what was once the second or maybe third floor.

And.

In a heap of rubble.

Buck.

Vaguely.

Hears a radio.

Sees large hand.

With black nail polish.

And Buck just knows.

And Eddie and Chimney don't understand when Buck screams, "Tommy!" as he scrambles to the rubble; not thinking about the stability of the hallway as he starts moving as much debris as he could.

They don't know how Buck would know that's Tommy.

"He paints his nails to stop himself from biting them," Buck would say desperately, "I know his hands. That's his hand."

Not moving.

And Buck hasn't checked the pulse.

He doesn't want to check the pulse.

He just needs to get Tommy out of there now.

[shatcey]

Mirror event (Victor)

Now it becomes clear why Vivi looks so much like hemself in this story. Because it wasn't a dream…

I look at this men standing next to each other, and think… I… belong there. Literally. Right there, between them. I've never felt like I belong to any place, perhaps because I really need to be there.

Okay...

And now Vivi's thoughts. As always, they made my brain explode a bit.

He was ready to kill her if something went wrong, because his children are at the top of his list of priorities (after the queen, of course), but… He still wants her to stay. I'm surprised… Is this a contradiction? Or does he just want to add another seed to his garden of children? Or… she is any different?

This… It's terribly sad. Does this mean that no one will ever want to take care of him? Maybe were afraid to do it? Didn't think of him as a person? It's become a painful topic for me lately… Could it be related to his abilities? Or his status? He is a man who stands firmly on his feet, who achieves a lot, who is the second person in the country. Maybe… No, I'm probably imagining…

Victor often talks about light and darkness. What if it's not just a metaphor… What if he really can see the color of the soul? He's a grim reaper after all. What would make so much sense… He can tell who deserves to die and who deserves to be saved. This makes him the same judge as William.

Sure… Victor drops such a bomb… I'm not even surprised. Bound… He's bound… trapped… restricted. Maybe he just phrased it that way, after all, they all have a grim fate. But… What if it's literal? What if… his fate not allow him to get to close to people? I don't like where this thought leads me to…

You're breaking my heart! Why??? What can't he do? Follow his desires? Or… being too close to someone? He doesn't allow himself to do this because he had some experience in the past… What was that? What happens to the other person? Why did he decide never to do it again? I have… so many questions.

No, don't you dare say that was the last time! I'm going to punch you, painfully….... on the shoulder. You look like a teddy bear, and I love hugs! You got the point, right?

Why is it in quotes? Who told you that? This person was lying! They can, and they will come true. Ally is proof of that. He didn't dream, but his dreams came true. Don't ask me how this is possible! It defies logic…

So… It was a very short story, but it managed to give me a headache. I'm… not surprised at all.

Now I'm curious to know what was in the other stories. I remember reading Ellis' story a year ago, and in the end he killed her. So… It was definitely a dream! If so… how can we read the story from his POV???

Don't tell me… Ally, don't let these guys exploit your abilities!!!! You are not a tool! I'll really going to punch Victor if that's the case.

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[radiantmists]

Haven't finished my day one fic but here's my entry for @charles-rowland-week Day 2: Chorb!

I see a lot of cute orb-ghost content and love it, but for some reason when I sat down to write my brain went: that experience must be terrifying on both ends. Especially if it happens when they're pushed to the brink, a circumstance that otherwise leads to ghosts just... dissolving. Especially the first time.

So here's the first time!

***

Charles can't remember how he got here; he hasn't really got any idea where here is, except that the ground he's lying on is too hard and the light is so bright it burns his eyes whenever he opens them.

Though that might actually be something wrong with his eyes, judging by how much the rest of him hurts. He must have pissed someone off real bad, to be in this much pain, but he can't remember who or why. He hopes it was worth it.

"Charles," says a voice, a voice he knows. Edwin's here, and he sounds upset, and like he's trying to hide it. Charles manages to pry his eyes open for half a moment before the searing pain forces them shut again, but in that brief second he gets a glimpse of Edwin-- just his neck and the bottom of his face, the harsh press of his mouth.

Charles has seen that expression before, knows it comes along with wide eyes that give away what might look like frustration otherwise; this is the face Edwin makes when he's terrified.

Edwin shouldn't be terrified. Charles tries to reach for where he thinks he was, to comfort him, but just the idea of moving his arm reminds him of how much his shoulders hurt, and he half-screams before he can swallow the sound.

"Charles, just-- just lie still a moment," Edwin says beyond the roaring of his ears, and it shouldn't be a hard request with how much moving hurts, but Charles doesn't think he can bear to lie here like this much longer, the ground digging into him and the pain burning through his bones.

There's something wrong about that. Charles shouldn't be able to feel the ground, however hard it is; he doesn't actually have bones to burn.

He's dead, but he's still hurting, somehow, and that doesn't seem fair, does it? He'd sort of thought he'd escaped it, for a while. Maybe a little pain was the cost of being alive, but now-- unable to feel any good thing-- it just feels cruel.

He's so tired of hurting.

"Charles," Edwin's voice breaks through again, only this time the tone is different, somewhere beyond fear. "Charles, please, don't-- please just stay--"

His voice breaks on the plea. Because he is pleading, which is all kinds of wrong. Edwin doesn't beg when he's terrified; he goes silent and still like a hunted rabbit, which Charles hates with all his being but he hates this too. Edwin shouldn't beg. He shouldn't have to, not with Charles, who has embarked on the afterlife-long project of making him as happy as possible.

Not going anywhere, he tries to say, but his mouth doesn't want to obey him and instead he just sort of groans. He can't move his fingers-- he's not sure he has fingers, right now. They don't hurt anymore, but he can't really feel them either.

He remembers that: losing his fingers first, then his toes, then more and more. Edwin had been there then, too, strange and funny and unbelievably kind, and Charles hadn't had the chance to worry about his toes. Edwin had given him that gift, the gift of not being scared, and then he'd tried to run off like it was nothing, like after all that he'd thought Charles would just leave Edwin to the lingering terror in his eyes when he spoke of Hell.

That terror has never left completely, despite Charles' best efforts. He's started to think it never will, and the thought hurts, but at least he'd thought it was getting better; except now Edwin is terrified, and he's the one begging Charles to stay. He's still talking, somewhere beyond the pain, and though Charles can't make out the words, that heartbreaking tone is still there.

Charles isn't leaving him. He refuses. But he can't bear this either, the pain making it so hard to think, to remember. Edwin's voice is a lifeline, but it's getting more and more difficult to hear it, and he's not sure it's just the ringing anymore.

He's a ghost. He doesn't have ears to ring, not really, or bones to ache or eyes to burn when he opens them. Piece by piece, half on purpose and half unable to hold on, he lets it all slip away, until all that's left is the conviction: whatever happens, he wants to stay.

It feels a little like changing his hair, the way Edwin had taught him, just holding on to what he wants until that's what he is.

Mostly, though, it feels like dying.

***

He knows less and more, like this. He doesn't know where he is, and there's no feeling to help him guess, no pain or light or voice in the ears he doesn't have anymore. He doesn't know how he got here, doesn't know how long he's been here, doesn't even know who he is, really.

But he's not confused, because what he knows is this: he's dead, and it's not fucking fair, because he had so much left to do. He knows he was going to do better, that he was going to fix things, and now he'll never have the chance. Part of him seethes at that, and part of him just wants to take the hint and stop trying.

Except he also knows, somehow, that he does have another chance. That he's still here, even if he can't feel or taste or smell-- or even see or hear. That he can move things, somehow, change them, sometimes even fix them. He can solve crimes and save lives and on very good days he can make Edwin laugh.

He remembers that, the last time he'd made Edwin laugh-- just a little chuckle, really, but helplessly sincere, and the smile had stayed on his lips when he'd said, really, Charles--

The world unfolds around that voice speaking his name, first just memory into sound and then the awareness of ears to hear it, of a head to turn toward it and arms to push himself up, of something soft and forgiving under his palms, and of eyes he can open to see Edwin's face, remarkably close and blinking with surprise that, as Charles watches, collapses into relief.

"You came back," Edwin breathes. From this close, Charles can see the tears well in his eyes. Edwin, who he's seen burn half his hand off without even noticing, is crying over Charles.

It's not really a choice, to reach out with hands that still look a little misty and pull Edwin close. Edwin clutches him back, curling his hands in the back of Charles' shirt and tucking his chin over Charles's shoulder like if he just holds Charles close enough, he can hold him together.

Maybe he can. Charles curls his own fingers into Edwin's coat, breathes deep just to feel his ribs expand into Edwin's grip, ghost-cool but firm and real, real, real.

"I was afraid you were gone," Edwin says.

I was too, Charles doesn't say.

"Told you," he murmurs instead, "you're stuck with me."

[rei-ismyname]

Teen Jean outs Bobby Drake pt 1

So... Marvel finally decided to confirm that Bobby Drake is gay in All-New X-Men vol 1. I'd forgotten it was a response of sorts to Bobby aggressively performing heterosexuality by objectifying Magik. Not that it makes Jean's behaviour any kind of model for being an ally, but it's easier to see how she arrived at this conversation. It wasn't just out of the blue.

It's clear he absolutely knows he's gay, but he's been closeted for years and I think his persona was built for self protection. A person's openness with their sexuality is entirely up to them (thank fuck telepaths aren't real) and the O5 had grown up in the 60s then suddenly were taken to 2014. Homophobia is still absolutely rampant, but the difference must have been stark. Bobby's parents are also super conservative assholes - given their attitude to him being a mutant he knows they would be awful if he came out to them. Xavier isn't exactly progressive either.

The ice barrier he puts up is him shutting the conversation down while holding back. I'd probably freeze her solid and flee. Interestingly he stops denying it very quickly (not like he had a fucking choice, JEAN) and brings up the headfuck that is his older self who 'isn't [gay.] It really is a unique situation.

I get the impression that Bobby's 'speculation' is spot on, it's obviously the same thought process he had. It's incredibly articulate and thoughtful, which should give an idea of just how much of a performance he has been putting on. Plenty of gay and queer folks date people you wouldn't 'expect' them to. Experimentation is how we figure ourselves out, and heteronormativity is a hell of a drug.

He accepts it pretty quickly, and they briefly discuss the cultural differences compared to their own time.

He accepts it super quickly and allows himself to think out loud about people he finds attractive. Warren, mainly. I don't believe him for a second that Warren is 'too pretty' as I'll discuss in part 2, but I have to say I misremembered the privacy aspect of this. Obviously Jean went to Charles Xavier school of psychic consent (literally) but she at least talks to him privately about this, and assures him 'it's no one's business until you say it is.'

She didn't so much out him as drag him kicking and screaming out of the closet, but she kept it between them and stuck to that. That, at least, is a positive model for supporting queer friends. There's a lot of trust there, and Jean outing Bobby isn't as bad as I remember it. Bobby certainly seems a LOT happier afterwards and while his exploration of his sexuality/dating is awkward as hell, that's true for everyone. I wonder if he's grateful to Jean for this. It feels weird to say it but he probably is. The flipside of telepathy existing is the misery someone who wasn't his friend could have inflicted. There's Xavier, too, who surely must have known, right? He doesn't know the meaning of privacy - what should he have done with this information? We know what he did in canon - nothing. It's such an odd situation that it's hard to judge but if someone in your care is closeted for decades then maybe you didn't provide the best environment.

Thus, the ice twink was born. Next time, Teen Jean and Teen Bobby talk to the Bobby of this time period. That's going to be awkward to write about. Ultimately, it does portray common queer experiences (albeit with telepathy and time travel involved) and emphatically normalises not being straight. It's not perfect, and it wasn't very groundbreaking for 2014, but it's something.

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter Twenty-Three

chapter warnings: none?

we're getting sooo close to the final chapters (which i still need to bring myself to write up properly) i don't feel like i'm ready to let go of this fic, but in the final chapter i will be making an announcement about what is to follow :) happy monday!! <3

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Hey, you okay?” Noah asks, reaching his hand out to hold yours as you both walk out of the elevator and make your way down the hallway.

You nod your head, despite the nervous tension building in your chest.

“If people ask…” He says, looking at you for confirmation.

“We’re not a couple.” You say, taking a deep breath as you both exchange a small smile.

The party was being held at a beautiful rooftop bar, dimly lit by strings of lights as the sun began to set. Industry insiders, producers, and band members were all here to mix- you noticed some came dressed in suits, others in more casual wear- but every woman you spot seems to have stepped out of a magazine, they all looked so put together. You suddenly begin to a little feel out of place, wondering if you really should've came.

You and Noah walked up the stairs and through the open doors into the room.

“You okay?” Noah asked, noticing how you had suddenly gone quiet.

"Yeah. Just... not used to all this." You looked down at the ground as he looked around the room, trying to find a group to join, friends to introduce you to.

"That’s okay, I don’t usually come to these kind of events, so I'm in the same boat... The guys should be here soon, by the way, Matt said the traffics pretty bad."

“Well, we did ask if they wanted to come with us,” you chuckle, noticing Noah's eyes were still elsewhere. “Y'know, if you want to go and talk to anybody then go ahead. I'll just wait for the others.”

“I'm not leaving you, y/n.”

“I’m an adult, I know how to make friends.” You smiled softly, although you did feel slightly anxious at the thought of being alone in a room full of strangers.

“Shit.” You heard Noah mumble under his breath, turning around as if to hide whilst a figure approached the both of you, however as a 6ft 3 man, this would prove difficult.

“Well, if it isn’t Noah Sebastian,” the woman smiled, a seductive tone in her voice, “I’ve heard your band is blowing up, arena tours now is it? To think I’ve been here since your Warped days- Where’s the time gone, huh?”

The woman stands confidently, radiating a powerful presence that’s hard to ignore, and you couldn’t deny she was extremely beautiful. She had long auburn hair tied back into a ponytail, facial features that made her resemble Megan Fox and she also appeared to be heavily tattooed, judging by her neck and hands, the rest of her covered by the emerald green suit she wore.

“8 years,” he nods, a smile on his face that looks almost forced, “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Well it's not been a good year for us so..." She presses her lips together, clearly ashamed, before suddenly changing the subject. "You’re looking good, I like what you’ve done with your hair.” She reaches out, running her fingers through his hair as her eyes meet his, a gesture that feels far too intimate for someone who was just a friend of his. You wondered what kind of past they had, and why you had never heard about her before.

Something sour rises in your chest. You fight it down, forcing your gaze elsewhere. The tension is unbearable as you search for something else to focus on and quickly spot the bar. You needed to get out of this, whatever this was. However, as you were about to excuse yourself, she turns to look at you.

“I'm guessing you’re the younger model he traded me in for, huh?” Her voice snaps back into focus, you look up to see a smirk on her face and you try to come up with something to say back to that, but you couldn't.

“No, uh, I’m y/n. I’m-”

“Y/n’s my friend.” Noah cuts in, his tone protective. “We invited her as our second photographer on this tour, surely you've heard Bryan mention her in the past.”

She eyes you with a slight sneer. 

“Ah, yes, I've heard about you. You probably know me already, but I’m Lauren.” She tells you which band she sings for and you'd be lying if you said you recognised the name.

“I’m afraid I don’t.” You tilt your head, laughing on the inside as you see the confusion spread across her face.

“Seriously?" Her eyebrows furrow, "I have a song with bring me th-”

“So I’ll leave you two to catch up then, it seems like you've got a lot to talk about!" You smile, seeing Noah's eyes widen slightly, "I'm going to get a drink.”

You walk away from the two of them, concealing your frustration as you lean against the bar. She's clearly known him for a while, perhaps even longer than you. You knew that you and Noah weren't exclusive, and that you also had Vinny, but you couldn't help but feel a certain way as you thought about the way she touched Noah, replaying it in your mind. Sure, it was only his hair but it seemed deeper than that. And she was gorgeous, it was hard not to feel slightly jealous.

“Everything okay?” Bryan asks with a chuckle as the guys join you at the bar, having just arrived.

“Who the fuck is she?” You grit your teeth, mumbling under your breath. You tried to ignore the prickling feeling of jealousy, but Lauren's eyes never left Noah, and her smile only grew.

“Oh,” Matt seemed to be the first to realise what you were talking about, “That is Lauren. She never dated Noah but she’s been obsessed with him ever since they first met, but he’s never been too interested. I think he played on it back in the day because he had no other options.” He laughed.

“No way!” Folio gasped, amusement painting his face as he spotted Lauren and Noah, “She’s here?” 

“So what actually happened between them?” You ask, wondering what kind of relationship they really had.

“They’d always flirt on twitter, facebook, instagram, you name it- but never in person. She would always say it’s because Noah’s shy around her, but we knew different. If he wanted her he would've had her.” Matt said, taking his hat off and placing it on the bar.

“Should we go and save him?” Nicholas laughed, amused at how Noah’s expression clearly told you all he didn’t want to be there. 

But why has he never told you about her? And why did she feel like she could just strut over to the two of you and put her hands all over your man friend! You were going to teach her a lesson tonight, you’re usually a girls girl, but she had truly pissed you off. 

And nobody pisses you off and gets away with it.

“No.” You smile, an evil idea in your mind, “Leave him.” 

Matt raises an eyebrow. 

“What are you thinking?”

“Nothing.” You give an innocent smile, “He’s got this under control, it's nothing he's not handled before, guys, he’s fine!”

You were going to let the truth come out, loud and clear.

The guys seemed to find something else to talk about as you ordered yourself a drink, feeling someone lurking behind you.

“So what’s this about?” Bryan’s voice makes you jump, you curse him with you hand over your chest as you turn to speak to him.  

“I don’t like her,” you sigh, “I don’t like the way she looks at him, or the way she was invading his personal space, putting her hands all over him like she owned him. And I know Noah too well, I know he doesn’t like it either.” 

Bryan was still confused. 

“I mean yeah it’s pretty entertaining to watch Noah squirm.” Bryan admits, and you nod, taking a sip of your drink, "But it's really not that deep, y/n."

“I just wish he’d have told me about their past," you say, ignoring Bry's words, "Why have I never heard about her?”

“Honestly, I guess he didn’t think it mattered. Like Matt said, he never liked her in the way she liked him. Now he's not on social media he's had no reason to speak to her, or even think about her.” He shrugged, before he narrows his eyes, "... Are you jealous?"

You give him the side eye, knowing it's impossible to lie to Bryan. He always seemed to know.

"Maybe a little," you say with a sigh, feeling like now was the perfect time to come clean to Bryan, "Look, Bry, you've probably guessed already but Noah and I have something going on, it's pretty complicated because Vin's involved too-"

"Yeah, I thought so." He chuckled, his hand running over his beard, before giving you a look to say continue.

"Anyway," you shook your head, "I don't know if feeling jealous is valid in this situation... Because he's had his suspicions about Vinny but I've never told him the truth, and he's never told me about her, but we're not together."

"Hey," Bryan could see how this had clearly upset you, his hand rested on your shoulder as he gave you a soft smile, "If you have feelings for him then of course it's normal to feel that way, but now maybe you can see why Noah feels the way he does about you and Vinny?"

"You've noticed that too, huh?" You frowned, realising he was right.

Your eyes drift back over to them, watching the way she over-exaggerated a laugh at something he said, her hand brushing his arm. 

You almost felt bad for Noah. 

“God, she’s relentless.” You mutter under your breath.

20 minutes pass and you can tell Noah is sick of it, she wouldn't let him get away, you assumed your plan was going well. They were sat opposite each other on the couches, and you watched the way she teased his leg with her heel. His hands were balled into fists, and you could see he was trying not to lose his shit.

However, whilst you were too busy watching them, you hadn't notice the guy who had approached you.

“Wow... I never thought I’d see you again, and here of all places?” He chuckled.

“Oh my god,” you were lost for words, “No… you’re…” 

“You came here with Bad Omens?” He asked, and you nodded, your eyes drifting back over to Noah.

“Yeah, I’m Noah's plus one.”

“Oh! So you two are…”

“Oh, no! We’re both single!” You nodded, and before he could say something else, Noah’s voice beamed through the air.

“No! I’ve had enough, okay! I’ve put up with this for long enough, I don’t give a fuck and I never have! I tried to let you down gently in the past but you just never fucking get it! I’m not interested, okay? I never have been and I never will be. Is that clear enough for you?!” He shouted, and you held back the smile tugging on your lips as you watched her smile fade as Noah walked away, running his fingers through his hair as he approached you two. 

Max nods his head. 

"You sure about that? " He smirked.

"Yes!

“Okay... Well I guess that explains why you were all over me at the club that night then.” 

“Oh,” Noah's eyes widened, “So you two do know each other.”

“Quite well.” Max smirked, but that quickly dropped as he saw the terror on your face. 

“Oh shit!” Folio laughed, watching the scene play out in front of him. 

“Noah, it was literally the first day of tour!” You chuckle nervously. 

“Y/n," Noah shook his head, a humourless laugh leaving his lips, "Do you even know who this is?”

“Max...?” You shrugged. 

“This is Max Santoro... Y'know, the drummer for Thousand Below... Sound familiar?” He crossed his arms.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your face paling, realising just what that meant. Noah was close with the guys in Thousand Below, he'd helped them write and produce songs in the past, and they'd even toured together. You knew they were all friends, he talked about them rather a lot.

“Do you have a thing for drummers then, hm? What next, are you gonna tell me you’re in a secret relationship with Folio?!” Noah exclaims, and Folio shakes his head. 

“Leave me out of this one, man!” 

“Did you know about this?" Noah's head suddenly turns to Nick, "You were there that night?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like it’s a big deal, right? It was a kiss.” Folio scoffed. 

“Can we please just leave this,” you sigh, “So I kissed your friend when I was drunk at a party, you’ve had a secret whatever-you-want-to-call-Lauren this whole time and never thought to tell me?”

“Fuck,” Max laughed, “That’s her? She looks so different, I didn't recognise her.”

Noah shakes his head, trying to hold himself together.

“Look, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” Max says, “I didn’t know about the two of you-”

“It’s not your fault,” you mutter, rubbing your temples as the whole night feels like it’s spinning out of control, “There’s nothing going on between the two of us anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” Noah sighs as he apologises, patting Max on the back, “She just fucking annoyed me,” he looked over at Lauren, “Basically asked if I’d put her on our next album if she slept with me.” 

“What?” Your eyes widened, feeling your blood begin to boil, but kept it under control. 

“It’s done now,” he smiled, “I think she got the message."

“And so did everyone else.” Max chuckled, “Anyway I need to go and find Josh, I’ve been holding his beer for 10 minutes now, surely it doesn’t take a guy that long to pee.”

“Okay, we'll come and join you guys soon.” Noah nodded as he walked off. 

“I’m sorry I should’ve told you about that night- to be honest I totally forgot about him!”

“It’s okay,” Noah chuckles, “I should’ve told you about Lauren, I just didn’t think she’d be here. Her band hasn’t had a song that’s done well in about 6 years.” 

You scoffed. Good, you thought. 

You wondered whether you should bring it up or not, but you wanted to hear it directly from him. 

“So what was the deal with her?”

He took a deep breath. 

“There isn’t,” he chuckled, “We started off as friends, she had a boyfriend when we first met, but not long after we met on warped tour she broke up with him and tried getting with me, but I never thought of her like that. She was like a sister to me, it just felt… weird. She’d always flirt with me on social media and I’d play into it because sometimes I thought it was funny, but when the band started blowing up I realised she’d only be trying to use me more, since her band is… well…” 

You wanted to laugh, so she really did get what she deserved. 

"Let's not talk about her anymore..." You said, looking down at your cup. Noah smiled, reaching his hand out to lift your chin up, and for a brief moment you thought he was about to kiss you.

“How about I introduce you to some of my friends? I told them you'd be coming with me tonight.”

“Sure,” you smiled, “I’d love to meet them.”

Noah held your hand through the crowd as you joined Thousand Below at their table, and a couple members of Erra had joined them, and you had to hold back your excitement.

“Hey guys," Noah sat down, patting the chair beside him for you, "This is y/n, Bryan’s oldest friend, our second photographer! Y/n this is James, Josh, Alana, Josh number 2, and, well, you know Max, and these guys are Clint and Jesse!” 

"It's so great to meet you all." You smile as they all introduce themselves.

“I don't play for the band by the way,” Alana laughed, “I’m Josh's- this Josh’s girlfriend!” She smiled, pointing at her boyfriend.

“So you’re the famous y/n.” Jesse smirked, “We know all about you, don't we?”

“Oh yeah?” You saw Noah blush. 

“Don’t listen to them,” Noah places a hand on your thigh, “So-”

“Wait, are you two dating?” Alana smiled.

“No!” You both exclaimed, which seemed very convincing to them. 

“Sure…” Josh nodded. 

“So, how’s your first tour going?” Alana asked.

“It’s been pretty good, we’re about halfway through now.” You smiled. 

“I still remember my first tour- it was with Bad Omens too! I should mention I also do a lot of production work with bands.” 

“Oh, cool! Who have you worked with?” 

Lana swapped seats with James so you and her could have a conversation between yourselves as the other guys talked to each other, you both realised you had a lot in common too. You both like similar bands, and she’s even worked with some of your favourite artists. 

“I might go and get another drink,” you announce, and Noah nodded. 

“I’ll come with you.”

As you both walked back to the bar, Noah's arm around your waist, you told him about how well you and Lana were getting along, and how you thought the guys from both bands were pretty cool.

Then, as you got to the bar your eyes drifted to the door and you spotted somebody.

“Holy shit!” You gasped, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you.

“What?” Noah chuckled, clearly amused at your random outburst. 

“Is that…” 

You could hardly believe it. It couldn’t be…

Walking through the door, looking even more stunning in person, was none other than Andy Biersack and his wife? This is the man you’d dreamed about for years, plastered on your walls as a teenager. And now, here he was, in the flesh, in front of you?

You tried your best not to freak out, which would prove to be a vital skill in the industry you want to work in, but this was different. You’ve loved this guy for the majority of your life.

“Noah… That’s…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, feeling your palms get sweaty. 

“Who?” He followed your gaze, and realised what this was all about. 

“Andy…” Your mouth was dry and your legs felt weak.

“What?” He laughed, and then he watched as Andy waved him over, “Wanna go and talk to him?” 

“Really?” You blinked at him, completely stunned. 

“Well it looks like he’s calling me over so…” 

You followed behind Noah in a daze as he approached Andy, who was now stood alone as his wife had gone to greet a friend. You took deep breaths, his presence felt even more magnetic up close. 

“Hey, congrats on the new album- or albums! I never got a chance to congratulate you on The Death of Peace of Mind, and then the OST came out… both were just… amazing!” Andy grins, extending a hand for Noah to shake.

“Thanks,” Noah blushed, he was never good at taking compliments, “Your new songs are sick too, aren’t they, y/n?”

All you could do was nod.

“Is this your girlfriend?”

“Friend.” Noah nodded, “And also our tour photographer.”

“I’m y/n.” You swallowed hard, finally finding your voice. You had never felt so starstruck before. “I-I don’t know what to say, I’ve always fucking loved you… I mean… I’ve always been a fan, I just-” 

Andy chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. 

“Thanks,” he smiled, “I think I’ve actually seen… yeah, you’re touring with Motionless too, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded your head. He knew you?

“I’ve seen your work, your photography, it’s amazing!” Yes, you were going to faint. You could hardly breathe. This couldn’t be happening. 

“Oh my god, thank you. Seriously, I-”

“We've actually got a tour coming up in a couple months,” Andy cut in, “We’ve been looking for photographers, but none of the ones we’ve contacted have gotten back to us. If you’re free, would you be interested in joining us? No promises, I’ll need to discuss it with our team, but if you’re available, I’d love to have you on board. I’ve been meaning to ask Chris about your details so we could contact you, so I’m quite happy I’ve met you tonight!”

Andy Biersack was happy he met you. 

You stood there, completely speechless. Your mind scrambled to form coherent words. 

“I... I... yes! Yes, of course, I’d-” You were grinning so wide your face was aching. “I’d love that! Yes!”

Andy smiled back, clearly pleased by your enthusiasm. 

“Great! Like I said, I’ll need to check with the team first, but if you’re free and ready to go, we’d be thrilled to have you on the tour.”

“Thank you,” you breathed, your voice shaking slightly as tears filled your eyes. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this... I never thought I’d even meet you, let alone work for you. This is... This is my dream.”

Andy’s smile grew wider. 

“No problem.”

“Can I-” You started, then hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “Can I hug you? Or is that... weird?”

“Not at all! Come here!” He grinned, opening his arms. 

Without thinking, you rushed into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you. It felt surreal, like you were about to wake up from a dream. His arms were firm around you, and for a brief moment, you forgot about everything else. Every moment of suffering and disappointment in your life has paved the way for this moment. Everything made sense. 

When he pulled away, you were still grinning like a giddy schoolgirl, your heart soaring in your chest. You wanted nothing more than to go back in time, to tell your younger self that it’s going to be okay. 

You had never felt so happy before. Everything was falling into place. 

Everything was going to be alright!

Or so you believed in this moment.

You watched Andy walk away with Juliet, and you immediately turned to Noah, grabbing his hand.

"Where are we going?" He chuckled as you lead him down the hallway.

"The bathroom, when I can find it." You smirked, following the sign.

When the two of you finally found it, you shut and locked the door before approaching Noah, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your height before your lips crash into his.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Meanwhile in Chris’ hotel room

Chris played the track, and Vin hummed the lyrics.

“Shit! The first part doesn’t sound right.” He groaned, putting his phone down on the table. 

“I was thinking we could change it a little?” Chris suggested, taking a sheet of paper and a pen that was conveniently in his bag. “So what if instead of this,” he began writing some of the lyrics, “We start it like this?”

“When you fall I’ll follow you, into nothing ever after…” Vin read the lyrics out, before changing them once more, “How about this?”

“Wait, let me start the track again,” Chris smiled, pressing start on his laptop, “So if we leave this as the intro…” He nodded his head to the music before singing, “If you fall then I will too, into nothing ever after. Do we have to face the truth, or look away, neglect the wounds… do do do do… I like it!” 

“We just need to finish the rest.” Vinny sighed. 

“I like what you’ve got so far, it's pretty deep... Who hurt you?” Chris chuckled, reading some of the lyrics Vin had written. 

“I uh… Watched a movie, and it inspired me.”

Chris could tell by the look in his eyes that he was lying, but he didn’t question it any further. He simply nodded his head and restarted the track.

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

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86 @itsyaboinoah @discocowgirly @rainy-darling

[liuyan]

WAS THERE even a thing called good or evil? Morality was a double edged, subjective blade & those who walked it always found themselves astray. One slip & the blade would tip, & then all of the previous effort would be for naught. Being subjective was for the common-folk, for those whose decisions would not, in the end, truly impact an entire realm. What could a blacksmith do, that would endanger the peace, but to succumb to the evil of their own morality - a thirst for power, a hunger to escape boredom, a dissatisfaction with their High lord's rule?

as if they could be dissatisfied by someone who always sought to protect them & shield them.

The history will be bound to repeat itself & thusly had always been proven right - that the fae could not, would not change, that the good & peace meant nothing to their machinations.

"That we are." she replied with a light hum, agreeing. Creatures made of both right & wrong, always somehow choosing the latter.

Liu Yan graced him with a semblance of an entertained glare, but upon further inspection, she realized he wasn't too far off the mark. A dragon's soul in a fae body, with wings poking out like those of the fiery drakes of the sky - belonging only to the night's vast sky, themselves & perhaps their bonded riders. It was an interesting thought, though made impossible by the fae's innately disloyal nature - to belong to another soul like it's been one from the start, cleaved in two, then made one again. No, the fae - the Dusk fae that is - could only ever bond with dragons ; no other bond could ever exist, not even a bargain could come close to it.

"Take that as a compliment. Dragons are magnificent beasts, we have much to learn from them." she added.

They walked in silence, but briefly - though it was not an uncomfortable silence, she guessed he must have had a million questions swirling about his head. They all did. Questions had come in endless pours, in wild, sudden outbursts like streams breaking through a dam - sometimes they asked politely, murmured like a gentle breeze, & sometimes, more often as of late, they demanded answers - answers not even their High Lord could yet give.

she could deal with dragon-questions - perhaps even liked dragon related questions.

She chuckled lightly at her oversight & only gave him a petite shrug, her eyes lighting up with something akin to mischievousness. "Ah, but her name is more important than mine - she's a far better judge of character." though, after but a second, she adds an introduction ;

"Liu Yan. & I don't think she'd mind it. She incinerates it mid-bite anyway, so she doesn't care about any lingering scent. So long as it hasn't been marinating in vinegar, that is." Yanyan chuckled.

Oh, Erinya hated vinegar - could smell it miles away.

𝔳𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔫'𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱 his frustrations is a constant pain-point with those around him, one that would stun ancient philosophers — but what is a weapon to do by slash and strike? there are no other outlets, no room for anything else in his current role. the blade is either sheathed or drawn to cut.

as a nocturna, he had once painted, and it had helped. that had been taken from him ( or sacrificed by him, depending on the bent one took ) when he left his family's estate to ruin in velaris and fled to the illyrian camps. it was a natural trade for him — brushes and oils for arrow-bolts and bloodsplatter. it had been empowering to shirk his past and empower himself in a new form of vicious, but now, the nightmares are inescapable and unwieldy.

if he decides to paint now, what horrors will bloom? what secrets and truths will his renderings tell? the thought's a cold one that sends a shiver down his spine.

her perspective is refreshing & surprising. vast nods his head slowly in acknowledgement of that. ❝ it is our nature, ❞ he echoes simply. ❝ we're the idiots that paint it in shades of good or evil. ❞

compelled, he listens to her describe her dragon companion, feeling a sense of connection with the beasts as they are described — and his wings raise, subconsciously, as he imagines the freedom that comes with such power. to live with innate acceptance of one's nature and to be granted that by others. ❝ i've heard others describe me in similar fashion, ❞ he half-mutters, half-chuckles, but otherwise, he keeps his mouth shut, blaming the swerve of his thoughts on the whiskey in his veins.

when she returns in a blink, he is ready to go — anywhere but here — and falls in line beside her.

❝ erinya, ❞ he echoes, looking at the path ahead, to the wooded hillside rising before them. ❝ i know your dragon's name, but not yours. ❞ hazel eyes drift to her as they walk through the empty dusk court streets. ❝ i'm vast. do you think erinya would mind me carrying that for you? ❞

[another-heroine]

Ismene and Motherhood

Warnings of Slightly Spoilers & Narcissistic Parents below

Since I've finally made up my mind about Varn babies' names, I'm thinking about the prompt I had written weeks ago, when Ismene and Maegar was expecting their firstborn. She was frightened: be responsible for a being who you barely know yet is terrifying.

After her father's death, she watched motionlessly her mother withering. Although Orine have had support of the tribe, she got incredulous about love and held her grief too tight. So tight that it impacted her relationship with her children, turning her into a controlling mother, who didn't think twice before use guilty and chantage as weapons.

Ismene was entering the teenagehood, and between she and Mykha, the girl felt more the anguish of Orine. For a long time, Ismene felt guilty for things that were out of her control. Until one day she finally snapped out, and Orine called her ill-bred.

While she kept growing up, the idea of bearing children became more and more unfitting for Ismene. How could she wish for children of her own if they most probably would be doomed to her short-temper and be the first ones to be blamed when things got wrong? The best way to avoid that 'curse' was exactly didn't permit herself to fall in love at first place!

But then she have met Varn, and a long time later they got wed. But fortunately, after all those years on the road, and the improvement as a human, Ismene knew better than anyone else that nothing was written in stone, despite what the Desna's priests in her tribe used to say. She and her children would break that chain, and she would be better thanks to them.

She would never forced a sister to be a mother if she didn't want to, because one day she was like her. The change of heart was hers, and only hers.

BONUS: I've written this with this song on my head because it's totally her emotions towards Maegar and, later, to her first baby:

But I won't die for love

But ever since I've met you

You could have my heart

And I would break it for you...

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

the thing about chilshi is that i see it as super one-sided on chilchuck's part and that's some shit he's bringing to the grave with him

[amtrak12]

The idea that a god-like character with (supposedly) unlimited powers should snap their fingers at the end of a TV series and remove all pain and terrible things in the world so humans no longer had any suffering is the most BAFFLING thing I have ever heard. WHY DID THE SHOW EVER EXIST IF FIXING THINGS WAS THAT EASY??????

[running-in-the-dark]

I just had to see this comment on that 'how anxious are you while driving' poll:

and tbh... haha shut your mouth :)

[dreammfyre]

the heir's favorite ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the first daughter of the marriage between your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen and your father Daemon Targaryen. Always the most rebellious and difficult of all, temperamental, impulsive. However, weak before the temptation to possess your older brother, the crown prince Jacaerys Velaryon, a knight par excellence, the opposite of you. But no one in Dragonstone imagined that you shared much more than dragon's blood.

WARNINGS. +18 Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest (brother and sister). Jacaerys aggressive and dominant. Smut. Based on the second season of House Of the Dragon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. This was a suggestion left anonymously in the messages, so I invite you to leave yours. Thanks for reading.

The empty room was so quiet that you could feel your thoughts could be heard all over the place. The full moon illuminated the dark sky, standing out against the stars that night where everyone was resting in their chambers, but you were unable to lie in your bed, much less fall asleep without having nightmares. The Stone Table was where everyone met daily to discuss strategies for the war that was being unleashed in Westeros, but now that empty place was strange, so much silence and loneliness. The extinguished embers did not illuminate the tabletop, you touched the stone expecting to burn, however, it was totally cold.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice entered the place. You turned immediately finding Prince Jacaerys, your older brother and heir to your mother's throne. "Sister... it's very late."

"I know, you should be resting." You replied walking towards him.

"It's a bit complex lately." He took the luxury of joking, in response you smiled without much encouragement. "May I know what you're doing here?"

"Not much. Seems to me you're not the only one who doesn't get any rest." You lifted your shoulders casually. "Any news on your rounds?"

Jacaerys shook his head in disappointment, pacing around the table resting his hands on the handle of his sword without taking his eyes off you, analyzing your presence carefully, as if silently judging you. You rested your hands on the stone of the table relaxing your body on your arms, but your head couldn't stop scheming hundreds of thoughts and bloody imaginary scenarios regarding the war.

"Cole's army is getting bigger and bigger and we don't have a damn clue about anything." You said with a tense jaw. "And about my father..." you sighed deeply without looking your brother in the face "no word from him for days."

"That's not your fault." Jace tried to make you feel better with repeated kind words, but your guilt was growing and the anguish of the approaching war wouldn't leave you alone. "Daemon is not the priority."

"That idiot should be here, on the island, with his queen and his children." You whispered angrily. Then you looked up resolute in your decision. "I'll go see him tomorrow."

That didn't sit well with your brother.

"Don't talk nonsense, Visenya." The heir scoffed. "You can't go to Harrenhal alone, it's too dangerous and we don't know if the way is clear."

"You think I'll arrive by land alongside Daemon's imaginary army?" you sneered in the same condescending manner, a brazen gesture that made Jacaerys' blood boil. "I will ride Vermithor's back at dawn and arrive before the sun peaks. I will return the same day with news before the queen."

"That's a lousy idea!" Your brother exclaimed angrily. Grabbing your arm with brute force, forcing you to look him. "How can you even think of traveling alone to lands we don't know if they are enemies or allies?"

"We need to move fast before they come for us, Jacaerys." You squirmed under his grip feeling his fingers bury into your pale skin. "Do you intend to wait for my father to return?" you managed to break free from his grip with difficulty, Jacaerys ran a hand through his wavy hair desperate not to talk sense into you. "Because you may take a seat, I will not be accompanying you."

"Visenya, please understand the magnitude of your stupidity." He begged, chasing you from side to side. Your brother knew how impulsive you were, and how hard it was for you to get an idea out of your head, no matter if it was good or bad and in this case it was a rather dangerous one. "What happens if you cross paths with Vhagar in the skies?" The prince raised his voice to you demanding and imperative trying to intimidate you, anyone passing nearby could overhear your discussion. You turned your back to him, you didn't want to look him in the face out of embarrassment because deep down you knew his words were true. "You have no business there!"

"I have no business here either!" you exclaimed with the same intensity. You were temperamental by nature and now you were blowing off steam. "I'm tired of staying cooped up on the island, waiting for others to figure things out! I'm a dragon rider, and I'm constrained by these walls."

Your brother understood that feeling better than anyone, he grabbed you by both cheeks, covering your face with his firm hands.

"I know how you feel, Visenya. Believe me, but walking out at the first impulse is not the solution, don't you understand?" You put your hands over his, looking at him intently. You wanted to nod to answer him the question he asked you, but you were mesmerized in his nearness and his breath hitting your face. "Stay here, with us." He watched you carefully without letting go, losing himself in the sense of his pleas to look at you closely, you were so beautiful in any light no matter how dim, a Targaryen through and through with bright, intense violet eyes of long white hair like your parents. Jacaerys couldn't help but stare at you, the half-open lips tempting him to taste you, trying not to lose what little composure he had left. "With me."

You possessed the ethereal beauty of your mother and the complex character of your father, Daemon Targaryen. Under your little ethics and impulsiveness you did not think if it was a coherent idea and you threw yourself to kiss the thick lips of your brother who reciprocated instantly, none of them reasoned, they only moved to the rhythm of the kiss where their moist lips brushed anxiously. Your brother's hand on your waist took you by surprise, more so when he pressed you against his body bumping you against his chest and cornering you against the table.

"Go to sleep." Jace scolded you making an attempt to stop kissing you, but you kept reaching for him. "This isn't a good place."

With a smile you ignored knowing the only way to stop the situation was for you to go to your quarters and you didn't feel like leaving. You grabbed her hair tangling your fingers in her chestnut curls, Jacaerys strength intimidated you, but it wasn't enough to stop you.

"Don't go to Harrenhal." He pleaded leaving kisses on your neck, tracing a wet path over your skin taking advantage of inhaling your scent. "Do it and I promise I will warm your bed every night."

You felt a shiver run down your back at his offering, Jacaerys kept leaving kisses until he reached your collarbones uncovered by the neckline of your dress. His warm lips made your heart beat faster, you grabbed him by the face stopping him.

"Would you do that for me?" you asked with dangerous innocence, watching his glossy swollen lips.

"Do you really doubt it?" he answered against your ear, then brushed his nose against yours slowly, you left a short kiss on his lips almost by instinct, so tender and unexpected that you heard a laugh come out of the prince.

"I'll think about it." You whispered touching his chest, playing with the textures of the fabrics, his agitated breathing gave him away, having you close was a personal challenge for the prince. It was a lie, you weren't going to think about it, you just wanted to give him what he needed to hear to stay with you.

Jacaerys' big hands began to take hold of your body squeezing you tightly making you gasp, then you lifted your chin giving him access to your neck, the kisses there unsettled you in a special way and only your brother knew it, taking advantage of your weakness, listening closely to his breathing and feeling the warmth of his breath was much better. Everything about him you liked, and you were missing him lately. The pressure and uncertainty of the war had taken your head elsewhere, you had abandoned each other for valid reasons, but at that second you just wanted to give yourself to him one more time.

You stood on your tiptoes to gain a little more height reaching for his ear, your brother tensed at the delicate touch of your hot tongue against his lobe, you licked delicately knowing that it turned him on, he confessed it to you one night and you never forgot it. A deep moan of satisfaction came from his throat, then carefully, you lowered one of your hands straight down to his pants, positioning yourself over his hard member that was pressing against the fabric.

"This is not the best place." Begged the prince resting his forehead on your shoulder. "We are in a sacred place, you know?"

You cared little for his insistence or decency when you only wanted to shout his name, though you knew Jacaerys was asking you to stop for the sake of not failing in duty, not because the desire wasn't there. No one understood the reason why Rhaenyra did not cancel the stupid engagement between Lady Baela and the right Jacaerys, no one could deny that they could become blameless kings for the history of Westeros, but there would never be the tension and burning desire throbbing as when the fire was unleashed between you. That first time with a taste of sin, you begging him not to stop, that it was going to become a one-time secret that his parents would never find out, a secret they couldn't help but repeat between your sheets and his, in the hallways and in the library.

Desperate, your brother lifted the skirt of your dress with your help by grabbing your leg and pulling it up to his waist. The mere contact made you moan from the pleasure, you clamped your mouth shut to keep from making noise, you were too sensitive and needy and Jacaerys liked to have you under his control. You were always sarcastic, upset and nasty, just like your dragon, but Jacaerys Velaryon knew how to control you.

"What are you going to do if someone finds out about us?" You asked with bated breath. Deep down it was important to keep the secret guarded to keep it. Jacaerys' fingers stroking between your legs making you jump, clinging to the heir's neck and leaning against the table. "What are they going to say when they find out the crown prince fucking his sister."

His fingers slowly moved up and down, playing with your slimy wetness between his fingers. The mischievous grin on the chestnut's face only reflected the satisfaction of having managed to have you like this, so submissive to him.

"Does it scare you?" he whispered against your moaning lips. With his other hand he gripped the back of your neck tightly, so you wouldn't move. "They're going to find out you're my spoiled sister." Two of his long fingers began to search for the perfect place to insert themselves into you. You stirred under his grip settling in for him, your desperate breathing needing him to finish his work, but he seemed very calm provoking you with his words. "Do you know what they'll call you?" he bit your lip, pulling it towards him. "The heir's whore." His fingers slipped inside you so easily, sliding into your wet insides gushing moans from your chest as you felt him move in and out of you. Jacaerys took your leg his free hand clutching his fingers to your thigh preventing you from closing before him.

At the first loud moan you covered your mouth immediately knowing you were attracting attention, the sensation between your legs was stronger. You squeezed your brother's shoulder getting used to the movement of his fingers inside you.

"Don't yell." He ordered uncompromisingly. He had to kiss you to shut you up, which served you a few short minutes. You were losing your mind, your legs wanted to close but Jace put his foot down to stop that from happening.

"Jacaerys." His name on your lips excited him more than anything else, for it was the tone of desperation that mirrored your desire. To know that he controlled you and you were under his dominion with how arrogant you were, that no knight owned you, that everyone desired you for being Rhaenyra's spoiled daughter, but you were his, no matter an arranged marriage or duty was enough. "Mmh." You ran your hand over your face, desperate to keep silent fighting against your body that was beginning to tremble as his fingers went faster.

But for an ego like Prince Jacaerys Velaryon's it wasn't enough. Listening to you enjoy yourself on the Stone Table where every day they met to discuss war strategies was the most satisfying image to his eyes and he was not going to be able to forget it. The way you moved, dragon-like, the sweetest and most desperate noises came from you, none of the whores he had been with compared to the delicacy of a pureblood Targaryen. A unique and unrepeatable privilege.

When your breathing became erratic and the murmurs incomprehensible swearing you were going to reach that peak, Jacaerys came to a screeching halt chastising you. You opened your eyes in disappointment and fury, your heart leaping out of your chest and your legs damp and trembling.

"Be a good sister," he stroked your cheek with the gentleness you deserve to be treated with. You were trying to listen to him but you were so upset you just wanted to insult him for doing that to you. "Turn around."

Your hair stood up at his tone of voice demanding and conciliatory at the same time. As obedient as ever, just for him, you turned your back to him as the prince busied himself with pulling down his pants that were pressing against the erection he was trying to contain. Your heart wouldn't stop pounding, you could still feel his long fingers inside you and the wait, however minimal, was becoming eternal and torturous. You looked sideways at the entrances of the place without finding anyone, but the truth is that you didn't care if at that moment the queen arrived and found them like that, the euphoria and adrenaline was taking over your body and your reason, the overflowing desire had taken your actions. You felt Jace's hands sneaking up your skirt, careful where to touch, looking for just the right position to enter. He stood behind you, your dress pulled up over your back, the mere touch made you moan. You were so wet it was slipping from your entrance.

"Don't say anything." He told you and you nodded, you were capable of begging if necessary, though deep down you knew he enjoyed it making you obey. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

You closed your eyes as you felt Jacaerys slowly push behind you. You took a breath and tried to relax, you both moaned slowly, the prince tensed his jaw and clenched his teeth to keep from making noise, he stayed still for a few seconds searching for your hips digging his fingers into your skin trapping you in that position, moving you back and forth to better thrust. The rubbing of his member on your walls felt warm and wet, an invasion of your body, you were so used to his size that the sensation became familiar, literally. Some of the pieces of stone you unintentionally threw away, that was going to be a problem for later, because now the noise of their bodies colliding was beginning to consume you. The control he had over you didn't bother you, he gripped you tightly taking over everything. Her hips moved with yours instinctively in a delicious back and forth.

"Like this." You gasped with closed eyes and a satisfied expression. You reached for his hand under your dress and clung to him as tightly as Jace clung to you.

His length pumped in and out of you at a rapid pace, but this time, Jacaerys made sure each thrust was deep by ramming his pelvis into your buttocks.

"What a pleasure to meet again, don't you think?" his question was punctuated by your same panting without stopping moving. You weren't able to answer, your high-pitched moans were getting louder and louder, putting both of you at risk. On the other hand, he was breathing heavily. You had to cover your mouth with your hand, biting your palm to stifle your own moans of pleasure at having him inside you.

You started to stir but you were trapped in his hands, he knew you well enough to know what to do, you turned to look at him finding the heir ramming you with force and speed, his hair fell in curls that moved to the rhythm of his rhythm, when their gazes met for a second he stared at you, your face sweating, your eyes bright with a frown of supplication and red cheeks were enough to have no mercy. Your entrance was tightening at the same time you couldn't breathe, that feeling of a wave invading your insides begging for more desperate to reach orgasm. Jacaerys took your with one hand your waist and with the other your hip, encasing his fingers preventing you from escaping, you were in this together and you had to finish it.

You moved your arm and disarranged the pieces on the board. Now you could hear your brother moaning, cursing you for being his undoing and the greatest of his sins, making you his own feeling the power to mark you and deflower you breaking any tradition that governs the Targaryen nobility. It felt so good that you could confess your love to him just so he wouldn't stop. Luckily for both of you, he didn't stop, the rapid movements and the pressure forming in your lower stomach was getting out of control, the noise intensifying from the collision of your bodies and your knees seemed to lose any kind of strength to hold you up, luckily the table was there to support your body, plus your brother who wasn't going to let you fall. Until you couldn't manage to resist anymore, your orgasm came first like a shiver throughout your body, you closed your eyes tightly and watching you exclaim his name in screams of pleasure ended the infinite torture of the heir that took a few seconds to wait.

"Shit." Your voice hopefully came out of your dry mouth. You had your chest against the weight crushing your breasts, one of your hands intertwined with your brother's who was rebounding behind you.

You both took a second to take a breath and assimilate what you had just done, you had promised not to fall into carnal sin again and that's why the last time was several months ago. You leaned on the table with both hands coming back into yourself with your chest heaving, your brother's hands were still in the same place but he was no longer squeezing you with the same possessive intensity. Your hair was falling on both sides, tousled from the movement and your legs were begging you for a rest.

Jacaerys caught his breath, but his heart had not calmed down at all. His body was still experiencing those chills and that unique tension, he took a step backwards out of your body to get dressed. You immediately felt the fluid trickle down the inside of your thighs, dripping slowly down your hot skin.

"Are you okay?" Jace asked pulling up his pants, his movements a little uncontrolled as the adrenaline was still pumping. You nodded fixing your wrinkled dress. It wasn't the first time it had happened, you both knew what it was, that meant you would have to have tea the next morning.

"Looks like I'll be staying."

Your older brother smiled, fixed his hair pulling it back and moving closer to kiss you again, this time slower and softer, trapping your lips with his so slowly that you relaxed. You took his face kissing him again, his scent, his warmth, his bearing that forced you to lift your chin to reach your mouth, the softness of his lips, it was the most comforting sensation you knew.

"Go rest." He whispered without opening his eyes. Tidying your hair behind your ear.

"Okay." You replied in the same tone, so obedient and submissive before him, kissing for the last time his mouth following your movement. "Good night"

Leaving him was complicated, but you were satisfied with the encounter. As you walked you felt the burning between your legs, a reminder that was to last a couple of days that he had made you his once more, that was the greatest secret they kept hidden, they had forgotten for a moment the war between families, the political problems, duty and order.

Jacaerys Velaryon watched you go, silently picking up the sword he had dropped to the ground. That simple symbol that he was capable of abandoning his duty as prince for you, he staked his honor and his word for taking you. He stayed a while longer tidying up the mess they had created, arranging the pieces of stone in the place that corresponded according to the figure, picking up from the floor some that fell without realizing it. It was he who always assumed the role of responsibility for cleaning up the mess and pretending nothing had happened. How was he going to show up tomorrow at this very spot knowing he had relations with Visenya, the spoiled and arrogant princess, right there?

He only hoped Daemon Targaryen would never discover that his daughter was the heir's favorite if he wished to one day ascend the throne.

[melminli]

I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻

BANG BANG BANG ll

summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.

prev. | masterlist

There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.

“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?

You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.

“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”

You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.

The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”

You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about six years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was really fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.

It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.

You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.

She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.

Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.

“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”

The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.

You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”

Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.

You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back.“ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”

Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.

[witchcraftandgeekness]

Things we (me) are forgetting about Six of crows, not in order:

• There were rumours that Wylan was caught in an affair with his tutor

• Inej killed rinca moten (the desert lizard) that Matthias claimed he never seen being defeated before. She did it in few seconds too

• Jesper and Nina had chloropellets that they used to put other prisoners to sleep stitched under their skin. And had to cut them out to use them

• Matthias had a buzzcut for whole two books and half; also, half of SoC he had brown hair and brown eyes tailored

• Kaz had lockpicks and bloody explosives swallowed for the entirety of heist, and had to regurgitate them every other hour

• When Nina was young, she wanted to go to Fjerda as an avenging warrior or a spy (foreshadowing, I guess)

• Inej used Kaz's gloves to climb in the incenerator scene

• After learning Inej's real name, Kaz asked if that's what she preferred to be called

•Kaz's pov has shown that he probably had fracture or other injury from when he jumped while carrying Inej in his arms, and it was never mentioned him getting any medical attention. My boy been running this heist like this, AND without his cane for hours

• They blew up the nation's holy magical tree (somehow I keep forgetting this part)

• Matthias gave Kaz an agressive CPR until Nina took over. So his heart probably stopped during heist? (Somebody just give him a vacation or something)

•Nina flirts/ed with Kaz (as he had mentioned himself, she just loves flirting with everybody and everything)

•Inej seems to be the ONLY one in the Dregs without their tattoo

•Matthias labeled Inej as a demon in his head as well, not only Kaz

•Matthias' middle name is Benedik. I think only his and Jesper's second names were revealed (very likely that they are the only ones who have them)

•Kaz gave Matthias the "you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me" talk (like, literally)

•“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.”

“I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

•Inej thought that Kaz "at least owes me his best imitation of a human being".

•Wylan was standing up to Kaz several times, even at times when others wouldn't (like right after the Oomen incident)

•Matthias has the coolest nicknames for everybody in general

•Kaz kinda thinks more of Inej than others do? Has more faith in her and how strong she is, if you will

•Kaz went back for the Black Tips after Inej was injured and "there was enough blood to paint a barn red" (reminder that he still has a fracture after running with her in his hands and jumping off great heightswhile carrying her)

•Tolya was mentioned in SoC ("There’s a Heartrender at the Little Palace who can recite epic poetry for hours. Then you’d wish you had died.”)

•Matthias thanked Inej personally for being the reason they made it out of the harbor alive (that's right, everybody must respect Inej)

•Kaz wants reassurance that Inej believes in him once in a while

•Everybody feels kinda good about sharing secrets with Kaz cuz he's Dirtyhands and he wouldn't judge anything

•Kaz and Inej have a series of silent signals?

•Kaz said "You don't want a look at what's inside my head, Nina dear" while wearing fucking dumb goggles

•Inej is the only sacred thing in Kaz's life, and she made him feel like a boy still believing in existence of magic

[luveline]

I would love to see more of badass reader x Spencer, but maybe reader gets hurt on a case (like a concussion or something) and only wants Spencer and we get to see more of reader’s soft spot for Spencer. Idk if that made sense or if that’s anything you’d be interested in writing. Love reading whatever you write!💕

thank you for your request and for reading babe!! —your singular soft spot for spencer rises to the surface when you get hurt in the field. fem!reader, 1.1k

Emily's foot tap tap taps hospital linoleum. The nurses are getting worried about you —your CAT scans are fine, but you're lethargic. Mildly concussed with moderate symptoms, you winced at the lights, told Emily to turn them off, and haven't said much since. 

She frowns. It's not nice to see someone who's usually so closed-off openly pained. "You okay?" she asks. 

"I wanna see Spence," you murmur. 

Emily nods slowly. She's had this conversation with you already. You have a spot of amnesia, nothing to worry about, decidedly temporary. 

"Why hasn't he come to see me?" you ask. Your voice trips and tumbles, your eyes glowing with a glassy sheen. "I thought he'd come to… make sure I was okay. But he doesn't want to see me." 

"Spencer's on the way here. He was an hour away with Hotch, remember? They're on their way." 

You twitch like a displeased cat under your sheets and turn away from her, sniffling weakly. Your shoulders heave with slow tears. Emily gets up to rub your back but thinks better of it when you stiffen. She doesn't understand how you function, doesn't know what it is about Spencer alone that you can be vulnerable with him and not the others, but she won't judge you for it. She just wishes there was more she could do. 

It's an untold amount of time between your tears and Spencer's awaited arrival. You're worse than lethargic, depressed, hand lax behind your back and unresponsive to the sound of the door. 

"She's asleep?" he mouths. His hair is limp either side of his face, flattened by anxious hands. 

"Upset," she mouths back through a frown, drawing a tear down her cheek with her pinky finger. 

He doesn't give Emily a second glance after that. 

"Hey," he says softly, rounding your hospital bed, touching the tips of his fingers to your hip and drawing a gentle line up your side. His head dips down, bending at the waist to see you better in the dim lighting. "Hey, what's wrong?"

You make a small keening sound from the back of your throat. It's so cleaving that Emily wants to leave, so painful that she wants to stay. You're her friend too. Emily cares about you, even when it hurts to do so.

"I don't feel like me," you say. 

Spencer doesn't shy away either. His expression is open, reassuring as he pops into a semi squat that can't be comfortable. His hand closes around your arm, thumb feeling the naked skin there sweetly. "It's normal to feel confused after a head injury. I promise it won't last." 

"I don't feel well," you say, small, like a scared kid. 

"I know." 

You reach for him. Emily knows Derek would never believe it, your hands stretched out almost desperately, the pleading noise yanked from between teeth normally gritted. Spencer wraps long arms around you with the ease of someone who's done it before, maybe exactly like this. 

"It's okay," he says. He's speaking with pep he doesn't feel. Emily can see he's stressed in the high pinch of his shoulders, but he's putting on a show for you. "You don't have to be scared. It's okay." 

The perpetual line carved between Hotch's brows seems deeper as he enters the room. Neither of you look up, your back loosening under the lazy back and forth of Spencer's hand. 

"Concerning, right?" Emily asks. 

Hotch ignores her, but not for lack of agreement. "What do her observations say?" 

"Mild to moderate head injury, post-concussion amnesia, fractured index and middle finger on her left hand." 

"Where are her clothes?" he asks. 

"They can't check her out until she gets her fingers cast and all she brought in her go bag was slacks." 

"I'll get her some pyjamas," Hotch says. 

Emily's not sure what's funnier, the idea of you in pyjamas, the image of Hotch choosing a pair, or the word pyjamas in his stoic murmur. He lingers to make sure you're okay, his eyes tracking the tremble of your arms as Spencer talks too low to hear in your ear, having sat down on the bed and curled himself around you protectively. 

You moan something sad and Spencer laughs, your hospital gown crinkling as he massages the top of your shoulder. "Why would you say that?" he asks lightly. "You think you know better than me? Really?" 

"Of course not," you say. If it were anyone else, you'd have knocked them off the bed already. 

"I don't remember you having an eidetic memory," he furthers. 

You actually manage to laugh for the first time since your initial injury. "I don't remember anything right now," you say. 

Emily leans over to Hotch. "You know, when we first came in, I suggested to the nurse that she might have amnesia because she kept asking me where she was, and she looked me dead in the eye and said, well, good thing you're not a nurse." 

Hotch scoffs a laugh. "It's a little surprising even now. Seeing them together, you'd never think it." 

"Think what?" Emily asks, fond rather than judgemental. "That she's as emotional as a China teacup?" 

"I'll remember for both of us," Spencer murmurs, stroking your face. "Okay? So calm down." 

Derek once told you to calm down and felt the cold of your icy attitude for a ragged week. Spencer says it and you take a visible deep breath, your head laying back in your pillows, his hand quick to cup the side of your neck. "Okay," you say quietly. 

"It's not just that," Hotch says, failing to explain further. 

He doesn't have to. Emily knows what he means. You can be snippy, aloof, unfriendly. But it's not just your softening that's surprising, it's Spencer's growing confidence. The ease with which he handles you, hands unabashed in their comforting. 

"Want me to find you something to wear?" Spencer asks. 

"We got it," Hotch interrupts. "Take it easy, Y/N. Rest." 

You nod obediently. He and Emily leave, hearing a last snippet of conversation as the heavy door closes behind them. 

"You wanna sign my cast, when they do it?" you ask hopefully. 

"Are you kidding? I'd love to. I've always wanted to sign someone's cast, and it's good for your morale." 

"Will they be in a cast long, do you think?" 

"They should be healed in about six to eight weeks, but you may not regain full strength for another two months afterward. There have actually been studies…" 

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (IV)

Happy Holidays! Remember your plans to visit friends and family back in your home country? Scratch that. The Yakuza men have other ideas for you in this cozy Christmas special. And you finally get to meet their fearsome Boss, who has a request for you.

Content: female reader, fluff

[Part 3] | [Part 5] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

You stare at your phone in disbelief, rereading each line and hoping you've misunderstood the kanji. Daitou and Kazuya are quietly frowning behind you, unsure how to help in such a situation. Their lack of response only confirms it.

The brief paragraph is written in bold, red font: Due to weather conditions, all flights are cancelled until further notice. Passengers have been refunded and will need to repurchase their tickets at first convenience.

One glimpse at the last-minute prices and you're certain of it: you won't be going home for Christmas. You slouch and sigh, somewhat at peace with the idea. What else can you do? You might as well get yourself a KFC bucket and stare at the holiday lights in the city center. You and the couples taking cheesy Christmas selfies, who will later wonder about the gloomy loner behind them philosophically crunching on spicy wings.

"Don't look so defeated, (Y/N). You can just spend that time with us instead. We're not such terrible company, are we?" Kazuya jokes, trying to cheer you up.

"We could even go on a trip around New Year."

Your eyes light up in anticipation, the sadness vanishing almost instantly. 

"Can we go to one of those hot spring inns? I've always wanted to visit an onsen." You put your hands together pleadingly. 

"Whoa! Take me out to dinner first if you're that eager to see me naked." The blonde man winks at you smugly. 

"How would I see you naked? The baths are separated, aren't they?" You inquire. 

"We can't go to the regular ones." Daitou pulls his collar slightly downwards, revealing a fragment of his traditional tattoos. True. A yakuza would never be allowed among the civilians. "We'd have to book a private bath, so there wouldn't be anyone else."

You blush at the prospect of being alone with the two men. Kazuya notices your nervousness and is about to continue his teasing, but Daitou speaks before him, unbothered and oblivious:

"Besides, you've already seen me naked. I can tell you Kazuya doesn't look much different. There's nothing to be shy about."

The blonde man can only gawk, taken aback, and you shove Daitou in a flustered panic, fumbling to find an excuse or a change of subject.

He didn't have to make your business public like that, or he could've at least announced it without you being present. Judging by the blonde's speechless reaction, you're guessing he hasn't been told about your sneaky office smooching that led to the occasional sleepover. If you think about it, there's nothing shameful about being intimate with your boyfriend, but...It's not something you're fully accustomed to yet.

As promised, after the coworker incident you were soon greeted with a job offer in the neighborhood. When you went to your old office to discuss the mandatory year contract, the managers nervously handed you an approval for resignation and refused to discuss any details. You were free to go, no penalty or obligation. They had a fearful demeanor and you hoped Daitou didn't dismember anyone involved. Regardless of his means, you were now at the liberty to pursue other careers.

On the other hand, you were rather anxious about your new workplace. You had flashing visions of drug cartels and gambling parlors, with thugs rattling their drinks at you and demanding proper service. Windows breaking and masked men rolling onto the floor, armed to the brim. Ginza hostesses scurrying behind you and asking for help against an angered client. The night before your first day, you restlessly shuffled in your bed, plagued by second thoughts. What could you possibly do for the yakuza? What ghoulish demands would they prepare for you?

Daitou was the one to accompany you in the morning. He showed you to your desk, and you could discern the blurred frames of people angrily discussing matters in the opposing meeting room, separated by a large window. You gulped.

"They're building a new apartment complex two streets down." Your boyfriend mentioned casually, helping you settle with your belongings. 

"Huh?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were curious about their talk."

"I mean, I am, but...Is that it?" You gazed at him incredulously. 

"What else? This is a real estate office. Upstairs is the stock investments."

"Oh...Oh...I thought..." You were a little embarrassed. The imaginary scenarios of bloody battles and crimes that kept you awake felt quite ridiculous now.

Daitou seemed to have picked up on your assumptions, because he chuckled and ruffled your hair, following with an explanation. 

"Boss is very strict with our Ninkyo-Do. If you're caught with drugs or petty theft, you're excommunicated. We used to have a bunch of gambling casinos as main income, but nowadays there's too much pressure from the police, ya know? Half of our members aren't even officially registered with the Yakuza, so they can't be tracked. We mostly do stocks and real estate. That's where the cash is. 

Heh. Kinda boring, ain't it? I'm afraid you showed up way after the golden times. Even I'm too young for it. If ya want, I can ask one of the retired seniors to tell you about it. He has a lot of great stories."

You held your tongue from bringing up his frequent killing sprees and just nodded, amused by the fact that his code of conduct didn't register human casualties as wrong. The Yakuza have strict rules of ethics that set them apart from regular mafia. Depending on the Oyabun, or Head of the Family, this chivalrous way of living is reinforced to all members or conveniently swept under the rug. Daitou's Boss seemed to fit in the former category. 

Therefore your "office job" turned out to be an actual office job without the quotes. Although you were often reminded the people passing by weren't your regular salarymen. Many of them were entirely transparent with you, striking up conversations about their latest arrest, or complaining about the poor quality of their pinky finger prosthetic they'd ordered from the Philippines. 

But this isn't the time to reminisce. The prolonged silence is unbearable and one could fry eggs on your hot, burning cheeks. Kazuya is the one to break the awkwardness. 

"Oh, yeah...You coming to the Christmas thing this evening?"

"We'll be there." Daitou smiles innocently, unaware of the discomfort he just caused.

Kazuya raises his eyebrows in surprise and looks at you.

"Did you...?"

"Yup. It's all fine." The dark haired man nods reassuringly. 

"Then I'll see you at dinner, little (Y/N). Don't catch a fever with all that steam blowing out of you." He laughs at your still baffled expression and places his large hand on your head, departing.

Daitou holds the door open for you and you hurry inside. As you both walk down the hallway of the luxurious restaurant, you can't help the nagging feeling that he's once again omitted some vital information. 

"Can you tell me again who else is coming? Just Kazuya?"

"Oh no, it's a Family meeting. So Boss and the rest of the Seniors, too."

You gasp in horror, but before you can scold him, you find yourself behind the canvas screen divider, facing a table of older men in suits, holding their drinks and eyeing you suspiciously. 

"Oi, who the fuck is this, Daitou?" one of them growls. 

"I already told you before, (Y/N). My girlfriend."

"Huh? Did you seriously just bring a civvy to our meeting? I knew you got a loose screw, boy, but this tops it all."

Daitou frowns and steps in front of you, visibly annoyed. 

"If ya got a problem with my woman being here, I can settle it for you, old man. When was the last time you fought someone?"

"'s that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've gotten too comfortable sitting up there and barking orders. Let me remind you why they leave the killings to me."

The thick tension in the air is quickly dispersed by a loud, relaxed laugh. At the end of the table, a heavily scarred man with grey hair is clapping his hands in delight, seemingly amused by the events unfolding. He glances at you and pats a cushioned seat to his right. 

"There you are! Come join us, miss (Y/N). Ignore those rusty grumps, they ain't seen a woman outside a host club." He throws the instigator a brief glare. "Is that any way to talk to my guest, Oota?"

The man swallows dryly and mutters an apology. He goes back to his drink, preoccupied, and the rest follow suit. 

You hesitantly kneel down to your designated place, sheepishly peeking at the mysterious figure. Could it be? As if reading your mind, Daitou places an encouraging hand on your waist and lowers his head to your ear, swiftly whispering "that's Boss" before going to greet the others at the table. 

"I-it's a pleasure meeting you, Sir." You mumble nervously.

"No no, pleasure is all mine. I'm Eiji Ijichi, 8th Head of our Family." 

His introduction is unexpectedly warm and his easygoing way of speaking reminds you a lot of Daitou. The faintest grin threatens to appear, but you cover your mouth. With enough imagination, this could be the equivalent of meeting your in-laws. This is Daitou's family, after all. A criminally scary one, but nonetheless you've been welcomed with open arms.

"Do you drink?" The older man asks you, raising his porcelain cup.

"Naturally." You exclaim and lift your own cup enthusiastically. 

"Attagirl!"

As the night progresses, the men at the table are loosening up under the influence of expensive alcohol. Kazuya seems to be caught in a terribly involved conversation with Daitou and one of their Captains, gesturing dramatically and occasionally raising his tone. You notice your glass has once again been filled by the waitress and take another sip, satisfied with observing their fun from the sidelines. Boss has a similar approach, gazing nostalgically over the rowdy group of thugs.

He reaches for his pack of smokes and you scramble to pick up the lighter, politely bowing as you light up his cigarette. He smiles at your gesture. 

"I see Daitou's trained you already."

He ponders for a moment, gently blowing a cloud of smoke upwards. 

"You'll make a good wife."

"Excuse me?" You question, startled by his sudden remark. 

"It's hard to tell, but I'm getting pretty old myself." He snickers at his self made compliment. "Soon it'll be time to pick my successor. I have no children, unless you count that rascal I picked from the streets." He says as he tilts his chin towards Daitou. 

"I love him like my own kid, but I'm sure you noticed he's a little off. Everyone is terrified of him. You can't have a leader if everyone runs away from him, ya know? I was starting to get worried I'd work myself through retirement. Kazuya can only do so much!

Then he comes up to me grinning like an idiot. I thought, 'There it is. He finally lost it', but instead he asks me if I want to see a photo of his girlfriend. Girlfriend?! I was ready to witness some crusty body pillow, my hand was on the phone to call our Family doctor. He shows me a cute foreigner standing next to him. Now I'm pretty sure he's not smart enough to fake photos like that, so it must be the real deal. 'How the Devil did ya pull this one?' I asked him. Cause listen, I was rather handsome back in my day and I still wouldn't have been this lucky.

And would ya look at that, it's the miss that moved into our apartments! How's the living conditions, by the way? Everything going fine?"

You nod energetically.

"Good, good."

He crosses his arms and nods himself, satisfied. He turns to gaze at you intently, with a face you can't quite read.

"You gotta excuse a drunk old man for rambling so much. What I'm trying to say...well...

Take care of him when he becomes the 9th, will ya? If he has you, I'm sure he'll manage. But don't tell him I said that! You gotta keep them humble. See, that's a lesson for you too. If there's one person the Head of the Family bows to, that's his wife! But I doubt he'd let the power get to his head."

You both turn to Daitou. He just finished pouring more sake to his superior and notices your stare. He blushes slightly and waves, unsure why he's suddenly being observed. 

"I think so, too." You respond, waving back. 

How would that look on a CV? Ane-san of a Yakuza family. 

[danveration]

Questionable Interests

Parings: Art x Reader

Summary: You fall asleep next to Art while riding the subway, and then he walks you home

Warnings: Mention of blood/killings/serial killers, talk of drunk men, talk of drugs, a mean male subway driver

Word count: 1203

A/N: tehehehehfkbdfk i hope u like ittt🙈🙈 it’s not the besssttt. i did this in one sitting within like 10 minutes HAHHA. i will do better stuff in the near future but Yes!woooo

Art was the talk of the town. “The killer clown is back again!” “Art the serial killer clown was spotted?” “5 killings that all lead to a killer clown. People have seen a black and white clown with blood all over him. They thought it was fake blood but they’re having second thoughts.” Art the clown.

You obviously heard of him. You’ve always had an odd obsession with serial killers and true crime documentaries. It’s a.. passion, some would say. You wondered if Art had any motive, or if he just killed whoever he thought of killing. Did he kill people because they were mean to him? Judging? Or did he just kill anyone, even if they didn’t pay him any mind at all. Did he feel anything when he killed? Did he feel anything at all?

You wished you could see him in real life. What can you say? Your have questionable interests.

You’re currently on the subway, sitting down with your headphones in. You’ve had a long day today. It’s about 8pm and all you want to do is get home and sleep.

The subway isn’t very busy. There’s only about 5 or 6 people on it at the moment. Your mind begins to wonder about random things as your eyes threaten to close. The subway makes a stop, you pay no mind. You’re too out of it to notice who gets on and who sits where. Little did you know, Art stumbles into the subway, bloody and carrying a black bag. Everyone looks scared and soft murmurs begin to start as people look him up and down. He sees you and doesn’t think anything. He see's that you're the only one who doesn't really acknowledges him and so he sits next to you and tosses his black garbage bag on the other seat beside him. You don't hear nor see the worried whispers and worried eyes of the others on the subway.

Your eyes begin to close and your head slowly drops onto Art’s shoulder. Art is taken aback, his eyes go wide for a moment before looking down at you slowly. He stiffens and then goes back to staring in front of him at the empty seat. He doesn’t particularly think anything of it. He just stays still and let’s you rest on him.

10 minutes later, he notices the subway is about to stop at the stop that he plans to get off. Though he doesn’t get off. He just sits there.

After a while, it’s time for subway to “close” aka just stop until the morning. Everyone is off except for you and Art. The driver gets up, and yells, “Hey! It’s time to go, come on. Get up!”

Art stars daggers at the man and just stays sitting down.

The subway driver rolls his eyes and hits the metal pole close to you. “Come on!”

With that, you suddenly wake up and whimper. Looking up to where the sound was made, you come to realization and your eyes go wide. “O-oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. Where are-“

He cuts you off, “You’re at the subway center on Marshall Street.”

Luckily that was not far from where you lived. You could walk, though you’re a bit scared to considering your watch says 2:50am. There are so many weirdos out there at this time. Drunk men stumbling out of bars, drug users, and even murderers! Like Art the clown. But honestly, you’d feel more safe with him than any other man. Which sounds horrible but at least you know he could protect you and he isn’t afraid of killing someone if it came to that. But why on earth would he protect you? He would probably just kill you. You don’t know what morals he has, if any.

You’re about to get up but you realize that you were actually laying your head on something when you were sleeping. There was not a wall next you so..

You turn to where you were sleeping and you notice something black and white out of the corner of your eyes. Looking up, you see..

What? You have to be dreaming.

Art or someone who is dressed as Art is sitting there staring at you with a neutral expression. You just stare with wide eyes as he stares back without blinking. Looking straight at him, you can definitely confirm it's the Art. Blood & all.

“Hey!! I said scram. Both of you!” The subway driver yells and motions for you both to leave.

You go to walk off the subway as Art reaches for his black bag and gets up to following you off, giving the subway driver a nasty look as he walks off.

Once you are off the subway, you look over to Art as he stares down at you. You don’t feel scared, necessarily. He doesn’t look mad or anything. But still, you feel the need to apologize for sleeping on his shoulder.

“H-hey. I’m real sorry about falling asleep on you. It-it’s just been a long day.” You stutter out.

He looks at you and motions for you to walk.

“W-what?” You ask in confusion.

He makes a finger person with his hands and motions them walking.

“Walk? Walk where?”

He attempts to draw a house with his finger and points at you and back at the house.

You take it that he wants you to walk to your house. Does he want to follow you there? You really are starting to feel intuitive with the way you just thought of this not even a little while ago.

“Walk to my house?” You ask him.

He eagerly nods and gives you a thumbs up as he smiles.

Art the killer clown wants to walk you home? You smile to yourself at the situation you’re in right now. Most people would be running away but you’re literally happy right now. You are kind of a fan girl of Art, so it’s crazy that he’s actually here and not.. Killing you. He actually seems sweet. Maybe he does have morals left.

“O-okay.” You say.

You start to walk and he walks beside you, slugging along his black garbage bag. You two walk in silence. You want to ask him questions but you’re not sure if too much at once is a good idea. Maybe asking him questions will set him off in a way, you’re not sure. So you decide to just stay quiet and soak in the moment.

You’re walking on the side of the sidewalk, until you hit a street. Your street. You take a turn and he follows, smiling to himself and looking around to take in the neighbourhood (Totally not to memorize where you live). You walk for a few minutes until you get to your house.

“This is me” You say as you awkwardly chuckle and motion towards your house.

He motions for you to walk up all the way to your door, at which you do. He follows you all the way until you open your door. Then, he waves goodbye with a smile and closes the door for you.

You stand on the other end, in disbelief of what just happened.