#but this upcoming one seems right up my alley

[karokawwo]

new phantom siita song drops on thursday...... ougughghhhhhg

[kingtomura]

vitality | 1

Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home.  Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you.  All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, found family LoV, mdni wc: 3.1k | chapter 2 | m. list | read on ao3

It’s been raining all day.

The cold droplets make your cheeks feel numb as you run along the sidewalk. The sky is a murky gray and your lungs are burning in a desperate attempt to regain air in them. There is blood on your clothes and none of it belongs to you. 

You don't know how long you’ve been at this but you know you cannot stop. There would be consequences if you stopped.

Your body would have to give out first. 

You chance a glance behind you and see there is no chase, there are no sirens and no angry mob following you but your body keeps moving.

You decide to take a sharp right turn into an upcoming alley and use that moment to catch your breath. Your chest heaves as you desperately inhale. The rain has soaked you to the bone and you just know that you’ll have a stuffy nose in the morning. Adrenaline is what you assume is keeping you going at this point — with the rate of your heart beating you're sure it’ll beat right out of your chest and leave you here in this dingy alley alone.

Even through the patter of the rain you could hear the footsteps of multiple people shuffling your way. 

You’re sure they’ve found you. Damn it, you shouldn’t have stopped.

You look around the alley and run to the grimy dumpster further down, hiding behind it and willing yourself to calm your breathing. 

Closing your eyes, you place a cold hand over your own mouth, praying it will quiet your own ragged breaths.

“C’mon, guys, let's be reasonable.” It's the voice of a man and it is not familiar.

He seems to be stepping closer, slowly. You creep closer to the wall and hope the footsteps cease. 

They do.

“Reasonable would be having your head for the shit you pulled on us, Giran.” A different voice, hostile. You're starting to think these people have nothing to do with you.

The guy, Giran, sounds weary, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m always good on my word.”

There’s another voice piping up now, denying his words, insisting that they were scammed. Between the rain and the men talking over each other it feels impossible to understand. You decide it's best to just wait this out, you’re sure they will finish soon and you can go back to figuring out your next move.

“Bullshit!” Someone yells and it startles you, pulling your attention back to the scene unfolding behind you.

The sound of a gunshot rings through the alley and you jolt in surprise, reflexively covering your ears as your heart stops in your chest. What the fuck was happening right now. Whatever Giran was going to say doesn’t make it far.

“Oh shit,” one voice panicks, “what the fuck did you do, dude!”

“You said we would get him back!”

“Not kill him, you fucking idiot!”

Your nerves are on fire as you hear the pair run off, leaving Giran groaning in pain and bloody.

You move fast, rushing from your place behind the dumpster to the wounded man. Giran was slumped against a wall, hand clutching his abdomen and breathing heavily. You don’t know what's compelling you to do this, so you blame it on the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. No one deserves to die here.

“Hey!” You yell out, an attempt to get his attention and keep him from slipping into unconsciousness. His brows lifted as his eyes met yours and you’re just glad this stranger is still breathing. “Let me help you.”

He only looks at you and you’re sure he’s fighting with all he has to hang on. You’re probably a sight to see yourself — clothes drenched in a mixture of blood and rain and eyes wild with panic.

You reach for his hand covering the bloody wound and he only presses tighter.

“Trust me.” You plead, meeting his eyes in desperation before trying again. Giran nods, moving his own hand and allowing you a chance to see the injury for yourself — blood was everywhere and given the rain you had no clear view. You shoot him a pointed look once more before going for his shirt, lifting it and exposing his stomach and bloody wound. You could work with this. 

Your hands were freezing cold, but you willed yourself through it, bringing both to hover over his abdomen and focusing. Giran watched the soft green glow emit from your hands and wash over his wounded abdomen, his wound healing from the inside out. Raindrops drip from your hair and down your nose, yet you focus until the injury is gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. 

Giran sighed, resting his head on the brick wall behind him, muscles relaxing and breath stabilizing.

“You’re a healer.” He speaks, voice hoarse and winded.

You nod, bringing your hands back and looking at the grovel below, “yeah, something like that.”

A silence falls over the both of you, the rain continuing to seep its cold into your bones. It's almost time to face your reality again. Time to get up and move.

“What are you doing out here, kid?'' Giran speaks again, voice gaining more clarity as he stabilizes from the events before. 

What are you doing out here? Where even is here? You weren’t paying attention while you ran — there was only the urge to get away and get away as fast as you could. 

“I...” you look down at your clothes clinging to your form and drooping lower than they should due to the onslaught of rain. Not even the rain could wash away the blood staining the cotton material. Whatever may have gotten on your face could be washed away, but you’re unsure. “I don’t know.” You finish, chancing a glance at Giran. 

He looks to you before taking a moment to stand, finally gaining composure and taking a slow breath.  

You follow suit, ready to go the other way, never see this man you saved again. 

“I owe you one, kid,” Giran starts again, adjusting his glasses, and you begin to protest. He cuts you off, “Those crooks almost killed me. Really, at least let me get you someplace warm.” he insists and you stare for a moment, you were unsure of your next move anyway. 

You nod, “alright.”

—---------

Giran takes you to an underground bar. One where the lighting is low and there aren't many people around. You’ve never been to a bar before, but you’re sure this one had bad news written all over it.

Even so, you don't feel afraid. The bar had a bathroom where you could dry off better and there was even spare clothes in the lost and found. You were finally able to get the rain soaked clothes off and wipe away the red staining your face as well. It was miles better than what you had before. 

Now you were sat across from Giran as he lit his cigarette, taking a drag and exhaling it to the side. 

The harsh smell of nicotine flooded the area and you bit back the scrunch of your nose as you stuffed your face with chips from the bar. Once your adrenaline settled, the feeling of hunger was overwhelming. 

“So,” you're midbite when Giran speaks, breaking the silence, “what were you doing out there, kid?”

You force your food down and ponder your answer. There was no reason you shouldn’t trust Giran right now, but—

The splatter of blood crosses your mind, accompanied by a memory of glass breaking that makes you shiver and you decide that no, you couldn’t share this.

“I…” you can’t meet his eyes, “I got lost.”

Giran taps the ashes from his cigarette and sucks his teeth. “Lost, huh?” He raises a brow, “where are you from, then? You were covered in blood, and not all of that belonged to me, so what’s your deal – are you some kind of hero?”

You vehemently shake your head, “no, no. I’m not a hero.” You anxiously pick at the loose sem in the sweater, “I’m nobody. Not anymore.”

“You’re a healer, people would kill for a quirk like that.” He takes another drag, blowing the smoke and pointing to you, “what is it you were running from?”

There were tears welling in your eyes and you wished this conversation could be over. The reality of the situation setting in. “I hurt someone. Bad.”

“Can’t be that bad since you can heal ‘em, right?”

You’re quiet. Flashes of what occurred hours ago flooding your memory. It feels so far away. So foggy. “No. No, I didn’t heal them.” Your fists tighten in your lap. “I hurt them and then I left. I ran away and now I’ll never go back.”

Giran looks you over for a bit before tapping the excess ash from his cigarette. “Well, since you need somewhere to go and you have a pretty sick quirk, I think I have the perfect place for you.” 

—---------

The dark corridors Giran leads you through feel endless and you can’t help but wonder if he’s leading you into a trap of some kind. You thought the bar before was shady, but wherever the hell he was taking you seems to be much worse. 

There was no elaboration on where you were going, just an absent trust me and promises that you would be safe and taken care of here. Promises that no one would look for you or find you here. You sigh, out of options and desperate. He had no reason to lie to you, but it still gave you an uneasy feeling. 

“This guy,” Giran’s voice catches your attention, “Can seem like kind of a brat, but he’s good on his word.”

It’s as if he could feel your restless thoughts and you only purse your lips, glancing at him and then back forward, noting a large metal door coming into view. 

You can't fight the lump of dread in your stomach but you try to put on a brave face as the screech of the heavy metal door fills the corridor. It led to another bar — this one looking more… normal. Empty, quiet and even quaint. 

The only occupants being a shadow-like figure of a man, dark cloudy whisps covering his face and hands and another, younger man dressed in all black and sporting what looked like a pale blue hand covering his face like a mask.

“Giran,” the man spoke, voice raspy and sharp. He couldn’t have been much older than you, maybe younger. “What have you brought us today?”

The man in question smiled, gold tooth glimmering in the low light of the bar. “Something special.” 

You couldn’t see much of the man’s face beyond the hand, but you could see the glint of interest in his red eyes. 

“Is that so…” he turns his attention to you, “what’s your name?” 

His gaze gives you goosebumps and you turn to Giran, seeking some kind of reassurance, but the boy speaks again, “Don’t look at him. I’m the one talking to you.” 

It shakes you, but you snap your attention back to him and tell him your name. 

“And why are you here?” 

You don’t know. You have no idea why Giran brought you here and you don’t even know who this guy is. How could you hope to answer that with no information?

Giran steps in before you can make a retort, “she’s here because I think you could get a lot of use out of her, Shigaraki.”

 Shigaraki’s gaze never leaves yours. “Oh, yeah? What’s your quirk?”

You bite your lower lip, you didn’t expect this to be an interview of some kind. Shigaraki looks impatient, tapping a finger on the bar beside him. You swallow your nerves and speak, “My quirk is called Vitality – I can heal others and myself.”

“That’s a rare find, Giran, even for you.” Shigaraki crossed his arms, interest successfully piqued. 

Giran huffs a laugh, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag. “Yeah, well, she kind of found me.”

You steal a look at Giran, the smoke leaving his lips as he speaks. Shigaraki doesn’t say anything, his silence seemingly urging Giran to continue. “This one here saved my life yesterday. Some hothead shot me and she rushed in and healed me. I’m good as new.”

Shigaraki scoffs, tone sardonic and cruel, “Wow, how heroic of you.”

It feels like you’ve made the wrong choice, like the idea of saving someone was foolish and wrong. You acted on instinct — no one deserved to die there.

“So, what’s your deal, then? The heroes would kill to have you on their side. Why are you here?”

“I don’t care about the heroes,” it’s the truth, you want nothing to do with their flashy shows of power and silly displays of heroism. “I couldn’t care less for it.”

You see Shigaraki’s eyes narrow through the fingers of the hand on his face. “So you’re one of Stain’s followers, then?”

Who? You didn’t keep up with that kind of stuff. You vaguely remember seeing the news articles about some crazed villain, but you have had your own villain to deal with. Nothing else mattered. 

This was beginning to frustrate you. All the questions, all the prying — who cares about any of this stuff? You don’t even know where you are!

“I’m not familiar with him. I don’t care for any of it.” You couldn’t help but hear the question ring in your head again. 

Why are you here?

“I don’t,” you start up again, voice catching in your throat. “I don’t have a home to go back to.” 

The memory of glass breaking and blood splattering crosses your mind, running away in the rain clouds your thoughts, yet you continue, “I don't know what lies ahead for me, I don't have a future anymore. I just happened to stumble upon Giran.” 

Shigaraki is quiet for a moment. You have to force yourself to refrain from squirming under his gaze. 

“Show me.”

Your eyes snap to his, “What?”

“Show me your quirk.'' His voice is firm and unwavering. You’re looking at him to see if you could find any injury or even bruises but from your distance you cannot. It's not until Shigaraki pulls the already loose collar of his shirt down over his shoulder and you see it. There’s a large bandage on his shoulder and your steps falter a bit – not expecting him to expose so much skin so easily.

You swallow, uneasiness buzzing through your veins as you watch him remove the bandage and expose a gash on his shoulder. It looks recent, but you can't tell from this distance, so you move towards him. 

The closer you get, the more you notice the finer details of the man. His ashen hair looks soft up close and his dark shirt does little to hide the lithe muscle underneath. It’s like walking into the cage of a wild tiger, sitting and waiting for its perfect moment to grab you.

He notices your hesitation and sucks his teeth, “I don’t have all day.” 

You swallow your nerves and continue on. The closer you get, the more clearly you can see the scars on his neck as well. Not as bad as the gash on his shoulder, but still noticeable. You try not to steal too long of a glance and reach out, slowly — ready to heal him. 

The wound doesn’t seem to be very deep so you only use one hand, a seafoam green glow emitting and covering his injury. 

Shigaraki inhales slowly, feeling the relieving effects of your quirk healing him from the inside out. It doesn’t take long, the wound was already in the process of recovering before so this was more minor than you thought. You pull away once you were sure his shoulder was back to normal, taking a cautious step back from the man before you. 

His attention is on Giran as he rolls his shoulder, flexing out all the previous tension and sighing in relief. 

“Something like this isn’t easy to come by, Giran. What’s your price?”

Price, he says. Like you’re cattle, as if you’re some kind of product to be shipped off and traded. It makes you feel low. 

Giran shrugs, smile pliant on his face and cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth. “No price. I told you – I owe this kid my life. Just make sure she’s safe and fed and we’ll call it even.” 

Shigaraki still seems to be skeptical because he stands to his feet and you take another step back from him. His form is tense and you have to fight the urge to run to the door behind Giran. Shigaraki is taller, even with his slouched posture, and the sinking feeling in your stomach only grows as you anxiously watch for his next move. 

You vaguely register the man engulfed in dark clouds calling Shigaraki’s name — a warning in his tone. 

Giran raises a hand, smile never faltering. “Seriously. Eye for an eye.” He cocks his head, “But I’m not opposed to additional payment, if that’s what you want.” 

It's a joke, one that the man before you does not find funny. He stands up straighter, “Whatever. Fine, we’ll take her in.” 

You’re unsure if this is something you should celebrate or ease your way out of, but Giran seems to take it well. An honest smile gracing his features as he looks back to you, “You hear that, kid? You're in.” 

Shigaraki turned to the shadowlike man behind the counter, “Kurogiri, prepare a room for her.” 

Kurogiri nods and makes his way from behind the bar, you assume you should follow, but this was… a lot to take in. If they were to take you in then you wont ask too many questions. As long as you could lay low and keep to yourself then things would be fine. This wouldn’t have to be forever, just long enough to get yourself together and make your next moves. 

You find solace in that thought as you walk past Giran — sending you an amiable wave as you trail behind Kurogiri. 

Shigaraki stays behind in the bar and you’re thankful, his demeanor doesn’t seem like one you would like to be around for long periods of time. 

There’s a brief moment when you're passing Shigaraki. His eyes meet yours and you notice the shine in them, a glimmer of covet curiosity so quick you almost miss it. 

And you can’t help but wonder what exactly is it you’ve just gotten yourself into.

[faededaway]

[𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕠 𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕛𝕚𝕣𝕠 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣]

[warning: exhibitionism, pvp, fem reader, bike race mention, cumshot] [inspiration]

Manijo, Manjiro

After everything in his life, he wishes he could say he's calmed down a bit. But, he picked the life of midnight races and adrenaline, and you.

You, the other adrenaline rush in his life. The one who keeps him high at all times. You, who like him for what he's got. His dirty mouth and worse mannerism doesn't bother you one bit. If anything, it keeps pulling you to him.

He saw you at one of street races he'd gone to watch. He'd gone just to get a scope of the competition of an upcoming race. But you caught his eye with your jeans shorts and flag wrapped around your chest.

"She's the flag girl, dude. She'll take it off to wave it! You can see her tits when the race starts!" He was surprised to hear more whispers about you than any about the racers. But that meant no one here was worth watching than you were.

Maybe I'll give you something worth watching.

He'd strolled over to you with hands in his pockets, "is it true?"

You'd barely spared him a glance before he continued, "that everyone here sucks so bad, the showrunners stole your clothes?"

You'd glared at him but kept your eyes on the racers who were taking their positions.

"How much are they paying you? I could pay you double and give you some clothes," he leaned on pole you were standing next to, wearing his signature grin.

"Why don't you fuck off instead? Shut up and watch like the other bozos who've never touched a bike but talk like they're Steve McQueen or something."

He laughed off your remark and proposed, "wanna ride with me? Be the flag girl that wins the race?"

You finally looked at him to tell him off again, but the confidence in his eyes stopped you. Your eyes wandered over to the memorabilia on his jacket, you recognized him then. He's the guys everyone's been talking about. The one who wins every race.

"What's someone like you doing here?"

"What's someone like you doing here?" He parroted the question back to you.

You glared at him and looked away. The digital timer on the side was counting down to the start of the race. 30 seconds to start.

“Okay,” he laughed, “'m here to see how much I'll need to hold back to save these guys from embarrassing themselves in their next race.”

You sighed at that. It was embarrassing working here. It doesn't help that he was right on the money about the show runner situation too.

He laughed again, pissing you off further. 20 seconds to start.

“If you agree to ride with me, I'll enter the race. That's bound to make you some money, right?” 10 seconds to start.

That's not how this works but it would help your brother the show runner make some much needed cash. 5 seconds.

“You better win.” Go.

He'd won, of course. He's not sure if there was a prize involved in this race. To him, you were the prize. You'd laughed and cheered the whole way of the race. Your arms were wrapped tightly around his waist. Your flimsy top(that you did not wave as a flag) let him feel the warmth of your body over his leather. You'd even asked him to speed up at times. You loved speed just like he did. He loved hearing your giggles in his ear with the song of the wind. He knew this could not be a one time thing.

"Don't stop, I know a spot nearby," you whispered in his ear when he crossed the finished line. He followed as if it was a command.

The spot you spoke of was a rundown gas station with a back alley that seemed to be a popular place for a different kind of ride. "This was so we don't do the whole 'my place or yours' or the 'who pays?' thing."

"I wouldn't mind taking you on the streets, an alleyway seems fancy." His hands ran down your body as you giggled in reply.

He pulled off your clothes in one pull, "if this is what they saw before the race began, they'd be crashing into things." His lips sucked on your chest ravenously. Red and purple lined his touch on your skin.

His leather jacket hung on your shoulders, your back pressed to the wall of the alleyway that anyone could walk into. Even if no one walked over, they'd hear your mewls and whines for sure. Mikey didn't seem to care and neither did you.

His hands didn't leave your body even for a second. One hand played with you chest, while the other did the same to your pussy. His fingers would ghost over your stiff buds right after he'd pinched and pulled at them. His mouth followed the same 'soft one moment, hard the other' pace - pecking you one moment, sucking your skin the other.

Your legs wrapped around his waist. You felt his hardness on your stomach. You would have touched him if his touch relented, but his pace only let you cling onto him harder. A hand deep in his hair, the other clutching his shirt. He hadn't even put it in yet and you'd already scratched his back.

"Mikey, c'mon!"

He only stopped when you begged him for it. Laughter bubbled in his chest and you felt it in yours too. He's unlike any man you had previously. Any other man would've stuffed your face already but he touched you to please you.

"Put it in, baby." His hands moved to your waist, finally giving you a moment to do what you'd been wanting to do since getting on his bike.

You palmed him over his leather to get a feel for him before revealing the real package. Hot. Hard as fuck. Pulsating and hot.

He rolled his hips into your palm, rubbing himself into the warmth of your hands. "Ah, fuck!"

Mikey's whining wasn't any quieter than yours. You let in sooner than him. A moment's grace before you undo his buttons and look down at him.

Sticky wetness dripped from his pretty pink tip. You thumbed some of it and brought it to your lips. "Someone's keeping you well fed. Wouldn't mind throat-"

A deep thrust interrupted your dirty words. "Want your pussy today, baby."

Your hands returned to his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts choked the breathe out of your lungs. Each one as deep as the first one, but like his ride, he didn't do slow.

He'd avoided fingering you earlier, teasing your clit relentlessly. Your aching pussy throbbed with him in it. It loved the filling it was receiving. Slick dripped down your lips and made a mess on his blacks.

"Fuck, Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, slow down!" you weren't sure if you'd be able to keep up anymore before losing it.

"Are we nearing a curve, baby? Are we losing it? Hm? Are we gonna cum?" he slowed down like you asked but just a moment later, "let it lose, baby. Cum with me."

He groaned as he thrust in you for the last time, his dick throbbed in you before filling you with his warm sticky cum. Your body attuned to his play, came as asked.

A cacophony of your moans and whines filled the alleyway as the two of you came off of your high.

"Whew, someone call the janitor. Clean up in the cum-alley."

Your noise attracted some people, but with your back to the wall and Mikey before you, they couldn't see you.

"You look like you'd like to clean it up yourself." Mikey wrapped his jacket on your chest before taking out your shorts from his pocket.

"Nah, we're good. Hearing y'all was good enough for me. Just wanted to come over and see the goods f'myself, that's all."

Lucky for you, they'd walked away as you got dressed. But being caught with Mikey in your pussy felt -

"Felt you throb around me when they caught us, baby. Maybe next time, I really will take you on the streets." He'd tucked himself back in and was wiping your slick off his crotch with your flag top. His eyes bore into yours, a sly grin on his lips.

You'd laughed as you walked out of the alley and to his bike. "I felt you, too."

And that is how Mikey became your ride for life.

[candycandy00]

Preview of my upcoming Togame x Reader fic, in which he ends up with a cute hybrid catgirl pet that he never wanted. The full fic should be up in a few days!

*********************

Togame never wanted a hybrid pet. He’d seen the poor little things trailing along behind their owners, looking pitiful. He knew what they were used for, and just because they were literally created to be living sex toys, it didn’t make the situation feel any less gross. 

They were built a little smaller than normal adult human women, sporting cute ears and tails. He supposed he could see the appeal, but the idea of buying a woman just seemed wrong to him. 

Tonight as he’s walking home from the Ori, hands in the pockets of his Shishitoren jacket, he hears a small commotion coming from an alley. He stops and glances in the direction of the noise, blanching when he realizes the alley is right beside a hybrid Pet Shop. 

In the dim evening light, he sees a large man dragging a small woman with cat ears toward a van. She’s screaming, fighting with all her might to pull her little arm out of his grasp. Togame sighs. He knows how things work at these “shops”. He shouldn’t be shocked, and he shouldn’t get involved. But just then she looks up at him, and their eyes meet. 

“Please help me!” she cries, her pleading eyes full of tears. 

Fuck. How is he supposed to ignore this? 

He walks over and grabs the man’s shoulder. “Hey. You’re hurting the lady. Could you ease up?”

The man turns to look at Togame, still tightly gripping the woman’s arm. He’s a big guy, a couple inches taller than even Togame’s considerable height, and bulky with a combination of fat and muscle. “Fuck off! This is none of your business!”

“Well, see, she asked for my help,” Togame says slowly with a casual tone. “That kinda makes it my business now.”

The man releases the woman so that he can focus on Togame. He draws back, raising his fist as he shouts, “I told you to fuck off!”

When the fist swings down, Togame catches it in midair, twists it while gripping the man’s forearm, and then uses it to throw the man to the ground. “And I told you to ease up,” he says, not even breaking a sweat. 

The woman with cat ears scurries over to Togame, hiding behind him as another man walks out of the shop and down the alley. 

“What the hell is going on?” the new arrival asks, looking from the man groaning on the ground to Togame. 

Togame feels the woman clutch his arm. Her hands are shaking. “I didn’t realize shops were so rough with hybrid women,” he says. 

The new man exhales. “We usually aren’t, but she’s a special case.”

Togame glances down at her. She looks up at him with those glistening, teary eyes. “Special how?” he asks, curious now. 

The man, who at least seems calmer and more reasonable than the one on the ground, gives the woman a pitying look. “We can’t sell her. She has an ugly scar on her body that makes her… undesirable.”

The woman seems to shrink at the words, looking at the ground as if in shame. 

The man goes on. “We tried to sell her, but no one wants her. I can’t keep feeding her forever, so I decided to put her down. That’s where we’re taking her.”

Togame feels disgust swirling in the pit of his stomach. They’re going to kill this woman because no one wants to fuck her? He never imagined things were this bad for hybrids. He looks down at her again, at her tear streaked face, her small, trembling hands clinging to his arm. 

Fuck. He never wanted a hybrid, never wanted anything to do with them. But he can’t just walk away from this. 

“How much is she?”

The man looks surprised. “You want her?”

Togame sighs again. “Just tell me the price.”

The man stares at the two of them, then shrugs. “If you’re willing to take her, you can have her for free. I’d have to pay to put her down anyway.”

“Guess I’ll take her then,” Togame says, looking down at his new pet again. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for refusing to make birthday plans that involve my boyfriend ⁉️

So my birthday is coming up in about two weeks. One of my oldest friends, T, has her birthday the same week as mine, so she had planned a trip to watch the upcoming eclipse, staying with our friends, in a little airbnb near some hiking trails in the woods. She said she would be happy to share the birthday celebration with me, and we can have a nice rural birthday vacation for a few days. Sounds good to me! I immediately agreed to it. She said that, of course, my boyfriend is invited, since it's going to be a party for me too.

When I asked my boyfriend the first time, about two months ago, he was working on getting a new job so he was unsure about whether he would manage to get the time off to be able to go. He did not end up getting the job. About two weeks ago I asked AGAIN if he would be interested in going on the trip. He seemed completely disinterested, fully wrinkled his nose at the thought of spending multiple days hiking in the woods. He said he would "think about it" but I could tell by his tone that he was not interested. That's fine with me! Girls birthday weekend in the woods with friends.

He asked me today what I want to do for my birthday. But I already have birthday plans, and I'm spending all my free time and quite a bit of money helping my friend to get it all planned out. I genuinely don't want to do anything else? I'm already overwhelmed with planning, and I intend on spending the week leading up to the trip packing and ironing out logistics, between working full time and being an adult. But he wants me to come up with a full plan for activities for my birthday. I told him that there already is a plan, and an activity, and I don't really want to do anything else.

And like that's fine with me! I'm super introverted and also neurodivergent so even the IDEA of doing multiple big things in one week, in which I work almost every day leading up to the trip, is exhausing. I would be more than happy to stay home and play baldurs gate all weekend, maybe go to like chilis or something. But he's getting upset, saying he wants to do something fun with me for my birthday, but there's really nothing I want to do except relax and not have to think about trip planning for a while.

SO, aita for refusing to make birthday plans that involve my boyfriend ⁉️⁉️

NUANCE: T is also a friend of my boyfriends, she is actually the person who introduced us to each other. The other friends are T's coworkers who I've hung out with a few times. My boyfriend doesn't know them, but it's only three other people, so it's not some huge wild party or anything. Just a small group making burgers and hot dogs with a bonfire and watching an eclipse, playing board games, having some drinks. It's right up his alley, so I don't understand why he doesn't want to go. There's no financial or work issue. He just doesn't want to.

[mirisss]

Haunting Shadows prequel

Vampire! Mafia! Ateez OT8 x afab! reader

Wordcount ≈ 2.2k

Warnings: mentions of weapons, blood, violence, mentions of someone being unalived, being chased, involuntarily put to sleep, I think that’s it, 

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it! I wrote it at 4 am when I couldn’t sleep so the ending isn’t the best. 

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

In a deep dark alley, somewhere downtown. A group of six men gathered around a seventh man lying on the ground. The man on the ground tried to shield himself from the haunting red glowing eyes staring down at him. The blood-red eyes paired with the guns pointed in his direction, made him realize that he was not getting out of this alley alive. One of the six men took a step forward as two others seemed to appear out of nowhere, or rather, they seemed to be appearing from the shadows. The man who had stepped forward had red hair that almost seemed to glow but right in front of the scared man, the hair morphed from red to black and the facial features of the previous red-haired man changed too. He went from someone the scared man had never seen to someone he recognized quite well. 

“Hello, Lee Jaejoong,” Jaejoong tried to move backward but his back met with a wall stopping his tried escape. “Who are you?” The eight men around him all smirked, revealing sharp fangs, causing him to hold his breath. “My name is Wooyoung, and these are my blood brothers, you may know us as Ateez,” Jaejoong’s heart sank as he recognized the name, Ateez, the largest mafia in the country. Ateez, a mafia group known to not leave anyone who has wronged them alive. “Please, please, I’ll do anything, just please, don’t kill me,” A shorter man stepped forward, giving a silent cue to Wooyoung who immediately stepped back again. “Yeosang, are you sure he is the one?” “Yes, captain, his scent is a complete match to the blood we found,” “Jaejoong, Jaejoong, Jaejoong… mm… and here I thought our partnership was going so well but you just had to mess it up, what a shame” The one called captain, moved around a little while sending a terrifying glare to the man on the ground. “Yunho, Mingi, take care of him. Jongho, keep guard. Seonghwa, San. Go fetch the car, no need to waste any more time on this one,” “Hongjoong, captain, someone’s getting close,” 

It was around 10 pm when (Y/n) decided to leave the university library to head home. Her back hurt from crouching for a few hours, trying to study as much as she could for an upcoming exam. Only a few students were still around, most of them studying with a few just hanging out with their friends. (Y/n) walked along her usual path, soon approaching the part she hated walking by. It was a dark alley downtown. While she had never seen or heard anyone there, she always felt uneasy walking past it but there were no other paths she could walk to get home from uni so she couldn’t avoid it. She took up her phone, prepared to call for help should anything happen. 

For the first time, as (Y/n) came close to the alley she found a light coming from deep within the alley. Her unease increased, that could only mean that someone was down there, she thought. Just as (Y/n) came to the opening of the alley, she saw two dark figures walking in her direction as she heard a loud noise. It sounded frighteningly familiar to a gun being fired, followed by a scream. Or rather two screams. One from whoever was shot and one from (Y/n). 

(Y/n) ran as fast as she could away from the alley, continuing her way home. Hoping that whoever had been walking toward her from the alley wouldn’t follow her, but if they were following she hoped they wouldn’t be able to catch up with her. 

“Hongjoong, captain, someone’s getting close,” Hongjoong turned to Yeosang who looked worried after picking up an unfamiliar scent coming closer to them. “Hwa, San, check it out on your way,” “Yes, sir,” As they began walking away, they could make out the shape of a girl or woman in the distance. Just as they were within eyesight of the human, a gunshot rang through the alley followed by a scream that bounced off the walls out toward the road. Within a second, another scream resonated through the eight vampire’s ears. Seonghwa and San saw the human look at them and then run for their life away from them. “Catch her,” Seonghwa muttered to which San ran full speed after the human. 

(Y/n) was terrified as she heard loud footsteps in pursuit of her. Please, I don’t want to die, not like this. She was getting tired after running for a few minutes, not even the adrenaline pumping through could keep her going for much longer. (Y/n) turned her head to try and see just how close the person behind her was only to find no one, feeling hopeful she turned her head back thinking she was safe, only to see a man standing a few meters in front of her. He seemed completely unfazed while (Y/n) was panting loudly, coming to a complete stop only three steps away from the man. What the hell? How did he get in front of me? (Y/n)’s eyes shot open as wide as they could when she looked into the, very attractive, man’s eyes only to find them shifting from a deep brown to a glowing purple. 

San was surprised by the overwhelming warmth that emerged throughout his entire body when he met the human’s eyes. His sight disappeared for a second only to come back a bit hazy, a purple tint now colored the world. A tint he had experienced before when he first met the other seven vampires in his group. This human, was their final soulmate. The missing piece of their connection. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” (Y/n) didn’t know what to do, her legs felt weak from the running and suddenly her heart was beating fast not only from fear and the running, but from the way this man was looking at her. While his gaze was threatening, it didn’t seem malicious, no it seemed more like longing. Another pair of footsteps could be heard approaching from behind (Y/n), but she didn’t dare look away from the man in front of her. “San, what’s going on?” “Hwa-hyung, it’s her,” “I may be older than you but I am not dumb, obviously this is the one who overheard our business,” “No, hyung, I mean she’s the final one,” Seonghwa stared at San a bit confused, it wasn’t until Seonghwa looked at his younger soulmate’s eyes that he realized what he meant. “Our soulmate?” San couldn’t do more than give a slight nod in answer, to captivated by the woman in front of him. 

Seonghwa carefully approached the human and put his hand on her shoulder, applying a bit of pressure to turn her toward him. (Y/n) was surprised both by the action but also by the handsome face she was now only mere centimeters from. The deep brown eyes of this man also shifted into a purple color, making the human gasp. Seonghwa shivered from the feeling of experiencing the first look at his final soulmate. The vampire quickly gathered himself though, shaking away the lovesick feeling that had made San freeze. The purple color in his eyes slowly faded back to brown only to shift into a glowing red. Seonghwa looked deep into (Y/n)’s eyes before he whispered: Sleep. (Y/n) immediately felt drowsy as her legs grew even weaker and her eyelids grew heavy, before she knew it she faded into unconsciousness. Seonghwa captured her body as she fell asleep. “Let’s go to the others,” San had finally managed to shake away the shock and could finally move and think freely again. 

The two vampires didn’t make it far before their six other soulmates approached them with questioning looks as they noticed the unconscious woman in Seonghwa’s arms. “Boys, let me introduce you to our soulmate,” Mingi gasped loudly while Wooyoung shouted out of joy. Yunho and Jongho looked at each other with happy smiles as Hongjoong and Yeosang both only looked down at the woman. No one said anything more as they simply walked to their van, bringing the human with them to their home. 

When (Y/n) woke up she could barely recall anything from the night before. Her memory felt foggy, she remembered walking home from uni but somewhere in the middle of the walk, everything turned black. The bed she was sleeping on was unfamiliarly soft and big. (Y/n) sat up and tried to shake off the sleepiness to focus on her surroundings. She quickly realized that this was not her bedroom nor any room in her apartment nor was it any of her friend’s homes. Hell, this room was pretty much as big as her entire apartment. (Y/n) looked around for her phone as quietly as she could but to no avail, she couldn’t find it anywhere. 

“She’s awake,” Yeosang said as he walked into the kitchen where the other seven vampires were gathered. “Earlier than usual,” Yunho pointed out. “It might not have been as effective because of the mating bond,” Seonghwa responded, usually when he used his gift of absolute command the effect wouldn’t subside for at least 12 hours, especially not the sleep command. Yet this time, it had only worked for about 8 hours. “That’s most likely it, the mating bond is known to mess with the effectiveness of gifts,” Hongjoong said before taking a sip of his coffee. “Should we go meet her?” Mingi asked, quite excited to finally meet the missing piece of their bond. “Yeah, let’s go,” Jongho said excitedly. “Come on, I really want to see her,” Wooyoung whined, he was ready to break down the door just to see her. “Let’s do it,” Hongjong said, as the leader he was the one to have the final say on most decisions they made, though sometimes Seonghwa as the oldest would be the one in charge, it depended on the situation. 

The eight vampires walked toward the room in which (Y/n) was still trying to find her phone. She didn’t stop searching until she heard the door creaking as it opened. (Y/n) turned toward the door coming to face eight unfamiliar men, six out of these men caught her attention one by one as their eyes slowly blossomed from brown to purple. This awakened a memory from the prior night, brown eyes turning purple, she also faintly remembered something red too. It took her a few moments until everything came back to her. Walking home, seeing the alley being lit up, hearing a gunshot, screams, running, facing two of these eight men before becoming unconscious and waking up in the unfamiliar room. 

Hongjoong, Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho were all overcome with the euphoric feeling of meeting their soulmate. Seonghwa was the first to step into the room, a kind smile grazed his lips as he tried to make the human feel less scared. “I apologize about all of this, what happened yesterday and us barging in like this. All of it will make sense in a few moments if we may explain it to you,” He stopped speaking for a second, clearly indicating that he expected an answer from (Y/n) to his half-question-half-statement. (Y/n) didn’t dare deny it so she simply nodded her head. “Good, my name is Seonghwa, and you remember San from last night, the red-haired one is Wooyoung, the tall blonde one is Mingi, the other tall one is Yunho, the buff one is Jongho, this is Hongjoong our leader, and finally we have our handsome Yeosang. What is your name?” 

“I’m (Y/n),” (Y/n) couldn’t help but notice the fangs that protruded from Seonghwa’s mouth as he smiled and spoke. Eyes that turn purple and red, super speed or something like it, making me fall asleep just like that, fangs, soulmate… What kind of freaky fantasy book have I fallen into? Are they vampires? No way, right? “(Y/n), what a beautiful name,” Yunho said as he smiled brightly, showing his fangs which only confirmed (Y/n)’s delusional thought. “Are you vampires or am I going crazy?” They all chuckled at (Y/n)’s question, a little surprised that she had put it together so quickly. 

“You are correct, we are, indeed, vampires. And you dear (Y/n), are our soulmate,” Wooyoung said as he sent a wink her way as well as a beautiful smile, a smile that revealed yet another set of fangs to the human. (Y/n) just nodded before she turned her back to the men, counting her fingers to try and see if she was dreaming but she found 10 fingers confirming she was awake. She turned back to the alleged vampires. “Please explain all of this in detail because I still think I am asleep,” After a lengthy explanation and discussion on how they were vampires and what a soulmate meant with more. The nine soulmates began their relationship that would continue for eternity as (Y/n), even though she is human, was gifted immortality to be able to accompany her soulmates forever. 

[bcwritingjourney]

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She pulled on the Drossenac blood as she peeked out of the alley again to look at a point a few paces to the right of the group, and was quickly sucked into the other place. She cleared her head, focusing. When she approached the rift that would spit her out, and her form seemed to solidify again, she dug her feet in, squatted to strengthen her stance, and willed herself not to be pulled out of this alien place.

She threw her three daggers in quick succession, and at the same time focused on the distorted image it showed her through the rift. She settled her gaze on a point to the left of the rift, right past the furthest guard. As the daggers flew into the first rift, she was pulled into a newly opened rift, and since she didn’t fight it this time she was deposited to the left of the men.

Luckily that had worked better than intended. Her foes had turned to the first rift, likely at the command of the specialist. They had done so just as she fell from her rift and dropped into a crouch.

As she appeared and landed, the light of her warping or some slight sound caused the specialist to whip around in surprise,and almost simultaneously, the daggers, one after another, flew from their rift. Two hit the guard closest to the rift, both digging into his chest deeply, while the other narrowly missed the specialist, heading towards her.

She leapt, assisted by the Khurdae blood, power coursing through her muscles, and snaked an arm around the neck of the other nearby soldier. He flailed in surprise, but she easily spun them around, into the path of the dagger.

It pierced his side, planting itself into his stomach. He hardly had the chance to scream as Ryanil pulled out her long dagger to thrust into his lower back several times. She let him drop to the floor afterwards, calmly wiping his garish scarlet blood off her dagger before sheathing it.

The last man was silent and still, watching her cautiously. He may have been able to help his comrades, but it wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t moved a single step from where he stood. He held his right brown furred hand up as his left pulled a water skin from his belt.

She tried to dive away as she realized what he was doing. Water exploded out of the skin, flowing to swirl around his right hand. In the blink of an eye he had snapped his hand forward as though he held a whip, and a tendril erupted from the water, arcing through the air.

She hit the ground and was about to go into a roll as she felt the tendril of water curl around her right leg with crushing force. She knew what was to come. It was even more ironic to her in her already tired state, as he used Sesinae blood to combat her, with her being a Sesinae who essentially couldn’t manipulate a drop of water worth a damn.

That was all the time she had to muse about the irony of it before she was pulled away from the cool bricks of the street, only to be slapped against the ground a moment later. She groaned and was pulled up again, before being whipped away and let go by the tendril. She sailed through the air gracelessly for a brief moment she flailed, then her back met the trunk of a tree, driving the breath from her.

She slumped to the ground for a moment, dazed. The man, fangs bared and eyes dark, stalked forward slowly, carefully. Ryanil had her eyes closed, one hand touching the tree she leaned against, the hand just out of view of the man. She just hoped he wouldn’t notice until it was too late.

Her eyes shot open, and she drew on the well of Osin power within her. Three thick roots burst from the street, sending bricks flying. The man was too fast however, the roots converging on empty space as he leapt away with frightening speed.

Ryanil pushed herself up with a groan, getting even more annoyed when she noticed the roots withering quickly. Drops of water bled from them oddly, streaming towards the Khurdae’s hands. Within moments he had significantly more water than he began with.

Alright, maybe we don’t use Osin powers against this bastard. She thought.

Ryanil didn’t dare take the time to try and drink more blood, so all she had was warping, thick scales and a dagger. Maybe it would be enough? She shook her head to clear it and dashed forward.

Only to immediately be met by multiple tendrils of water, which promptly swept her off her feet and into the air. She pulled on the Drossenac blood and focused on a spot just behind the man. It was a valuable thing, being able to slip out of attacks.

She leapt out of the vortex a heartbeat later and straight into a tackle. He managed to turn towards her, but nothing more as she hit him, the extra weight of her armored scales letting her knock the heavier and larger man off his feet. He quickly got a foot under her, flat against her stomach.

He pushed with surprising force, and she was thrown from him, landing flat on her back a ways away. She was getting awfully sick of getting thrown around by this over confident blood mage. She looked up and cursed, rolling to the side and leaping into a dash as a bolt of fire struck the ground where she had been.

He sent two more bolts of scorching flame towards her after the first, giving her no respite. One grazed her, singeing her cloak and blackening the scales of her right arm. The second, unfortunately, hit her dead on.

She was thrown sideways and to the ground again. This wasn’t working. She hissed as the pain set in, the scales of her entire chest blackened by the flame. While the thicker scales had protected her in a sense, she could still feel the flesh underneath blistering and cracking.

She struggled to get up, each movement sending waves of pain across her chest, and she watched as he raised his flame engulfed hands towards her. She slammed a palm down to the bricks, sending green energy into the earth.

Hundreds of tiny plants and blades of grass shot up through the cracks of the street, growing quickly. They twisted and knotted themselves around the man’s legs, though otherwise they were harmless. He looked down in annoyance before sending out sweeping waves of fire, the plants turning to ash against the onslaught.

[red-riding-wood]

Yellow Light

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x F!Reader

Summary: Jonathan is your guide as you escape Arkham Asylum.

Based off the song "Yellow Light" by Of Monsters and Men (original version here and acoustic version here). This song is really special to me and helped me brave my heart surgery in August. A lot of this fic is a projection of my own experiences, trauma, and health issues over the past several years -- but Arkham can represent absolutely anything you want it to that you or the character is trying to escape.

Song lyrics are in bold.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, depictions of PTSD (hospital trauma specifically), drug addiction/use, psychosis, hallucinations, fear of death, blood.

Will also use similar themes to my upcoming series "Darkness Until Dawn" and OC Cassie Hart but this is a standalone x reader fic.

I also feel like Crane might come across a bit OOC in this fic because he's in an established relationship with the reader and he's in a comforting role, but I promise I have some very fucked-up stuff for him coming up where he's an absolute menace.

WC: 3309

Sounds of Hell threaded themselves into the night air. Howling, bleating, baying down the streets. Whispering thoughts of death into your ears. Thoughts that formed into icy talons that raked down your spine, that stirred goosebumps along the bare flesh of your arms. That froze you in place, your heart slamming against your ribs as they tethered you to the cold concrete like vines.

Frantic looks cast to your left, to your right, you turned, stumbling over your own feet as you whirled, the darkness of each alleyway sinking into your soul. Staring back at you as if to say, you cannot escape me.

I’m looking for a place to start. Everything feels so different now.

Which way was out? Which way was back there? Back to the dingy halls of Arkham, the acrid stench of spoiled cafeteria food, the howling of patients that still seemed to echo back to you from the alleys.

The maw of a great beast parted, razors of teeth glinting silver in the dark, stretching from one brick wall to another. Hurtling towards you, wisps of black smoke emerging from the darkness and curling round you like hissing tongues. The roar started as a peal of thunder, and ended as a shockwave, razor teeth shattering into glass as the beast collided against your skull. Dizzying waves sent the world spinning, brought you to your knees before the Devil himself.

She’s good as dead.

The beast’s maw burned hot as hellfire, breathing smoke into your aching lungs, ripples of molten lava racing beneath your skin. Teeth tore into your shoulder as your hand met the ground, shaking fingers settling into the grooves of the concrete like cold tiles. Death’s talons wrapped around your throat as a cry twisted from your larynx, pointed nails morphing to scalpels and tearing down your sternum, splitting open your ribs and baring your bleeding heart.

Crimson freckled the concrete, splatters of your blood landing hot and thick against the back of your hand as cold washed over each limb, the darkness creeping in from the corners of the alleys. You reached your free hand to your forehead, and nearly cried out again in pain, but you couldn’t speak; something sharp wedged itself between your fingers, something sticky attaching webs of hair against your clammy palm.

Your hand came away with a shard of glass protruding from the stretch of skin between your fingers, red dribbling down flesh too pale to be living.

Your stomach buckled, and you curled in on yourself, eyes rolling to the back of your throbbing skull and voices pouring in like a tide.

Get back here! She’s running. Running away. Where does she think she’s going? She’s not going anywhere. She can’t escape us. You can’t escape us.

Patients rattled the bars of their cages, threw themselves against their padded walls. Screeched warnings and mournful wails and haunted cries into the stale air of the hospital, into the icy chill of night.

Fingers seized into talons as they closed around your ears, attempting to block out the noise as it built into a terrifying crescendo, wails and whispers melding together as if the darkness were mocking you but the chill that swathed your impotent form reminded you of your isolation.

GET OUT! your lips parted to say but fell silent upon the words of the damned. Let me go. Let me go, let me go.

Warmth brushed your shoulder, and you blinked saline from your eyes, streaking salt down your lip, dampened hair falling over blurry vision as you looked up to the hand held to you in the darkness. The white cuff of a shirt disappearing beneath a black suit.

Just grab hold of my hand. I will lead you through this wonderland.

And his voice, soft and warm and human, cut through the noise. Hollowed a path through the tunnel of voices and breathed life into lungs that gasped for air. Sent a tremble of fear through death’s icy talons and made the demons crawl back into the earth.

I’m here, he said.

You couldn’t straighten your claw-like grip as it brushed the warmth of his hand, but his fingers entwined in yours and the glass split his palm and bled over your knuckles and he pulled, your shoulder screaming in pain and your legs wobbly beneath you, but you stood.

Your fingers balled into a fist, the touch of his hand dissolving like a pill in water, like sutures that held you to together for one moment only to leave you in pieces, scarred and bruised and broken. For a moment, you thought you’d fall again.

Faintly, a glow emerged from the blackness, silhouetting the lazy fall of a feather, so tranquil in contrast to the tendrils of ink black that writhed in your peripheral. You swiped a hand out to the feather, its softness akin to his hand, but the voices hissed at you to look up.

The jagged peaks of the skyscrapers groaned above, folding in across the dim sky and curling into black tides that came crashing around you as pressure mounted in your skull.

The darkness devoured you. 

Water up to my knees. But sharks are swimming in the sea.

The ocean came flooding in around you, dampness seeping into the cuffs of your trousers, rising as the blackness pressed in around you. Ahead, the light glinted yellow, casting a thin line of white against the waves. The feather bobbed along the surface, chased by current that now buffeted the backs of your knees.

One foot placed before the other, you waded through the water, each step weighing heavier than the last. Each time, the light ahead grew just a little brighter, though the sides of your vision darker.

Wretched creatures began to emerge from the darkness, hissing and snarling and reaching for you in tendrils of smoke and ink. Gravity began to pull you downward, the current guiding you forwards as the alleyway morphed into a tunnel, and the voices of the underworld rang louder in your skull as you descended into the bowels of the city.

She’s heading into the darkness. The rot.

A giggle, echoing against the walls of the chamber that reeked of all things barren and desolate. Her mind’s a disease.

The reach of death grew thick here, in twisted ropes and vines that swallowed the arched ceiling, that bore down on you like snakes and streaked through the sea like eels of tar, the water itself no longer seeming so heavy in comparison as they engulfed each limb. Tightening. Shuddering.

She can’t get very far. She’s killing herself.

She has to. She has to live.

The voices were starting to argue.

Some were even voices you knew; they came to you past the iron bars nestled into pockets of your memories, depressions in the walls – people you’d known in that awful place cried out to you, cursed you, their faces fuzzy but still recognisable even in the darkness. Fellow souls trapped in the place that knew not of the sun’s warmth against your skin or the whistle of freedom through the wind.

Look. Look, girl.

Your brow furrowed, and your eyes scanned the darkness. With each face they landed on, the symphony of wails seemed to spike in volume along to the frantic thud of your heart, the little weaving line of a monitor etching itself across your mind’s eye.

Not there. No, not there.

Can’t she feel it?

It’s too late. The rot has her.

Soon it will reach her soul.

Your heart came lurching to a burning throat as the waters stirred and a creature emerged from their murky depths, slivers of metal protruding from its back before it disappeared, for half a moment resembling the wicked tips of syringes that still pricked your swiftly numbing skin.

Tearing your hands from the water, you froze, paralysis seeping in to every pore.

Ink tendrils snaked across the pallor of your flesh. From your fingertips to your elbows, the rot had taken you. It tightened round your forearm, your fingers turning completely numb.

You screamed.

Shhhhh, he soothed. Just come to me, darling. I’ll make it all better.

“JONATHAN!” Your mangled cry turned into something intelligible, the name sweet like honey on your tongue despite the bitterness of bile at the back of your throat.

Just follow my yellow light. And ignore all those big warning signs.

You began to slosh through the water, seeking him out in a frenzy, your teeth gritting as the walls of your skull began to cave in, as the rot spread to your shoulders and turned the water to pitch.

And at last, you saw him. Like the feather, silhouetted by the light, but unmistakably him. He paused, looking over his shoulder, strands of his black hair wisping this way and that. His face was shadowed, the sockets of his eyes black. The frames of his glasses glinted silver in the dark, like the teeth, the scalpels.

And he disappeared round the corner that twisted, walls shifting and shuddering as if forming a maze for a path.

Death’s icy fingers pried their way beneath your skin as the cold seeped past your blood and bones and settled somewhere deep inside the dwindling warmth of your soul. Freed from the water at last, you turned the corner and raised a rot-wreathed hand to the light fractured by a criss-cross pattern that reminded you of the bars of the asylum’s gate.

And the damp air became dry and musty, and the sewers morphed into dingy halls, alabaster wallpaper peeling back to reveal the black rot. Your pace quickened as these walls closed in, groaning with curses of the damned.

Just a little farther, the soothing, slightly-lilted baritones of his voice encouraged you on, but every turn you made down the narrowing halls, he managed to evade you, disappearing just out of reach. At the end of each hallway, what must’ve been a sewer drain and not a gate yawned from the blackness, little pockets of light stretching wider with each turn.

The feather crunched beneath your toes.

Fingers wrapped around the bars of the gate, and the hinges squealed as it swung open, your feet slotting into indentations along the walls as you desperately attempted to pull yourself up.

Warmth made you shiver in your cold sweat, and whispers funnelled into thin threads and lay buried beneath the ground as his hand met yours. In the faint glimmer of the light, you witnessed the rot dissipate, chased away by his touch. Purified.

“Jonathan,” you breathed, pulled flush to his chest, the mint of his breath raking across your lashes and the familiarity of his musk inhaled deeply through flared nostrils. You buried your face in his wrinkled tie and dress shirt and sobbed, your tears still tasting like saline. You savoured this moment, trembling beneath his touch, his hand petting the back of your dampened hair. You pulled away only as he hissed in pain.

“Jonathan, I’m scared,” you whimpered, guilty that you had seemed to wound him but caring only for sanctuary in this moment in which you knew nothing but fear. “Please don’t leave me. I’m so, so scared.”

“I know you are,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “But you have to keep going.”

“Where? Where are you taking me?” You stared into the hollows of his eyes, still pitch black past the glint of those silver frames. Why couldn’t you properly see him? Could he see you? Was he just another shadow, a trick of light on the wall?   

Somewhere deep in the dark, a howling beast hears us talk.

Sirens wailed from the alley behind, and your blood ran cold. Jonathan stepped away, his touch tearing from yours almost painfully. Like he’d left the shards of glass in your palms.

“Don’t let them take me!” You pleaded, stumbling forward through the darkness. “I can’t go back! I can’t! COME BACK!”

She’s so afraid. So pathetic. She can’t do this without him.

The light grew in intensity, tinted more gold now than yellow, bathing the walls in a soft glow as they drew impossibly close, tapering the air in your lungs, building the pressure against your temples until your shoulders sagged under the weight of fatigue and white-hot fire cleaved your skull in two.

Jonathan paused, and turned. “Close your eyes,” he told you. “It’s not so dark here when you embrace it.”

I dare you to close your eyes. And see all the colours in disguise.

“NO!” You screeched, afraid that if you so much as blinked, he’d disappear, and you’d be lost to the darkness forever. You lurched forward on your heel, wedging yourself between the shuddering walls that closed in around you, following the same – and only path – he had taken. Turning sideways, you gulped in a breath of air, fingers scraping madly against the brick walls as the tide beginning to pool again round your ankles. The sky collapsed, pinning you, forcing your only breath from your lungs and snapping your ribs around your stuttering heart.

She’s gone. She won’t make it. She can’t reach him.

The air grew stuffy, stale. Your own breath bounced off the walls and flushed your cold, tear-streaked cheeks.

“Just trust me,” Jonathan said. “Just let go.”

Running into the night. The earth is shaking and I see a light.

With the darkness claiming you and the ground beneath you quaking with wrath, the howls of the damned echoing through a familiar hall, the world swaying on its axis, you had no choice but to suffocate your fear, to shutter your eyes closed on the light that seeped through the crack in the walls, warm against your skin in the cold dread of night.

She’s giving up.

She’s fighting.

She wants to die.

She wants to live.

The yellow-gold exploded across the backs of your eyelids, streaking like fireworks along the pitch black. Your skull still throbbed in pain, and your lips parted, the sound of a window banging against old hinges as death whispered to you through the alleys, the sewers, the hallways.

Next time.

Jonathan’s touch met your clammy palm, and the world fell silent, the walls disappearing around you and the emptiness of air spilling around your limbs.

I’m here, he reminded you.

The light is blinding my eyes, as the soft walls eat us alive.

Your eyelids peeled back to reveal the checkered, rose pattern of your wallpaper, the bright fluorescents of the bathroom, the blue eyes that bore into your own past silver frames. Slivers of ice encroaching on ink black pupils, cold and calculating yet echoing a familiar warmth.

He loosened the makeshift tourniquet from your arm, pins and needles racing from your fingertips to your elbow. A syringe of your favourite poison lay on the bathroom tile, beige powder swirling in a sea of saline.

“Come back to me. Come back to me, please,” he begged, as if for this moment alone, he allowed himself to believe in the higher power you knew he cursed.

Water seeped into your clothing like the sea of pitch, spilling from the bathtub that you had left on. It carried little rivulets of crimson around a minefield of glass. He didn’t seem very concerned with turning it off right now, despite always bitching at you about saving electricity or water. His eyes were on you, and only you.

“Jonathan,” you mumbled weakly, though you thought you screamed; your eyelids fluttered and your heart pounded faster in your chest as the darkness threatened to spill across your vision again. Your nails dug past the fabric of his suit, gripping his arm tight so that he could never let you go.

“I’m here,” he breathed, and reached his other hand around your neck to cup your head, to bring you forward. You glimpsed the white ceramic of the bathroom sink, bloodied where you’d tried to steady yourself with your hand after you’d bashed your skull against the mirror – your ineffectual attempt to cast the demons out. Glass shards lay scattered against the tile. Fragments of your broken reflection.

You still remembered the haunted look you’d hoped to banish from your eyes.

“You have to get your head out of that place,” he murmured against your scalp, his fingers bloody and sticky as he brushed shards of glass from your hair, seemingly immune to the pain. “You’re not in hospital anymore. You’re here. With me. You have to come back to me.”

Your lower lip trembled. “I can’t escape them,” you admitted, voice a mere whimper. “I can’t escape it. You’re here to take me back, aren’t you? You’re gonna lock me up.”

For a moment, you really thought that he might; his palm still rested, warm and bleeding, against your cheek, but his cold blue eyes studied you not as his lover but as his patient, assessing your condition. He sighed, as if disappointed. Shame crawled its way beneath your skin like the cockroaches that had infested the asylum’s lower wards. You had always been so desperate for his approval, he rarely saw this side of you since your rehabilitation. It wasn’t until slivers of ice shattered into twin pools of blue fire that relief began to seep into you, slow and warm but whelming.

“No. No, I’m not,” he said, voice gentle, soothing. Blue eyes glanced to your head again. “Though, you are showing symptoms of a concussion…”

Your heart sped in your chest, and the icy talons of death speared your soul, the darkness hedging the borders of your vision. Innerved by your fear, you reached for the bottle of tiny white pills that lay open, haphazard next to you. But the warmth of his hand left your face, and your fingers clenched around nothing. In a blur of movement, Jonathan threw the bottle at the toilet and it clattered against the back of the seat. You jolted, gasping, wincing as the jagged teeth of the beast sliced through your clothing.

“You prescribed me those,” you told him. “They’re supposed to make me better. You said so yourself.”

“I’ll fill you a new prescription tomorrow. Taper you off. They were no good for you,” he said, and laced his fingers through the bloodied locks of your hair. Pulled your forehead to his so that your breaths became one, and the demons in your skull grew muffled, and his warmth chased away the icy touch of death.

“What am I gonna do?” you whimpered, sobbing, hands grasping feebly at whatever you could grab hold of – his sleeve, his tie, his collar. You felt as if your soul, your mind, were laying in fragments around you like the glass, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t piece them back together. “I just want to be free. I just want to be okay.”

“I know.” He inhaled, closing his eyes, and his grip tightened on your hair, scalp stinging slightly at the almost needy action. Like in this moment he was more afraid of losing you than you were him.

Even he thinks she’s a lost cause.

And Jonathan was never one to utter false truths; because you knew this about him, his silence unnerved you. But finally, after what could’ve been hours or minutes of your pitiful sobbing and the endless drone of the tub, the trickling of water against the tile, he said,

“I’ll be right here, darling. All you need to do is take my hand.” The warmth of his palm slotted into your own, and you wove your fingers so tight that your knuckles turned white around the blood that trickled down both your wrists from the jagged glass that barbed your flesh. A seal. A pact.

“I will see you through this,” he said. “All of it. I promise.”

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

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[fortisfilia]

Promised Part 12 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, a bit of spice

Word count: 2.6k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 11 | Part 13

Part 12 - Pillow Talk and Butterbeer

After buying the Foxgloves in Diagon Alley, all you could do for the antidote was to wait. Wait for Nagini to shed and wait for the end of March to arrive, so you could go to Gaunt Manor and look for a flask of Banshee tears. Meanwhile, the cauldron simmered safely in the Come and Go Room. You had to stir it frequently and skim off the foam that built up, so it took up a good deal of time, which was rather worrying. How would you be able to keep that up when school would start again and you were busy attending classes? Of course, Tom and you could take turns, but you didn’t want to bother him with all that constantly. He had to attend to his duties as head boy on top of everything, after all. Well, there had to be a way. It would be manageable somehow. 

Even though Hogwarts was almost empty and there weren’t many people around, you hadn’t felt lonely. Not even a bit. Tom and you had grown closer over the week. Even closer than before, and he still showed no signs of annoyance towards you. Which was surprising. You would have thought that he liked to keep to himself a lot, and wouldn’t want to spend much time with someone else, regardless of who it was. But that suspicion turned out to be untrue. Tom had followed you to tend to the potion every single time you had gone there, even if you hadn’t asked him to. He stuck to you like a magnet, which was strange at first, but once you had figured out that he just seemed to thoroughly enjoy your company, you let him.

When the two of you weren’t in the Come and Go Room, or studied for the upcoming semester, you spent your time in bed a lot. The meaning of ‘enjoying the holidays’ suddenly had a different ring to it. You still had not gotten used to his touch, his scent, his faint whisper in your ear. But if you were honest, you didn’t want to ever get used to it. It was too exciting to get that rush, the way your heart started racing, every time his fingers brushed across your skin. Every time your name fell from his lips and when his eyes lingered on your figure when you lay beneath him. Those smiles, rare and subtle, he graced you with between the sheets. No, you would never get used to that.

And Tom had started to talk more. Granted, still not as much as any other person you knew, but it was certainly a step in the right direction. One rainy day, he even opened up and talked about his family. 

You held hands beneath the blanket, your leg was sprawled over him and you had just put your head into a comfortable position between Tom’s shoulder and the cushion, when he just began, out of nowhere.

“Do you remember when you asked me about my parents?” he said. “In your room, at Christmas.”

Your head propped up again so that you could look at him. “I do. Why?”

“Well,” he paused and looked back into your eyes, his voice low and plain. “Do you want to know what happened?”

“Of course. Tell me.”

He laid his head onto the pillow and looked up towards the ceiling while he bit the inside of his cheek. 

“My Mother,” he began. “She fell in love with him, Tom Riddle, when she was seventeen. He was a muggle. Filthy and worthless, even though his family was rich. Merlin knows what she saw in him.”

The fact that he was a Muggle didn't define his Father's worth, you thought, but it wasn’t your time to speak now. 

“He didn’t love her back,” Tom went on. “At least not as much as she wanted him to, apparently. Morfin, her brother, had just finished his schooling for Potion’s mastery, so she snuck into his chambers one night and stole one of his love potions.”

This story wasn’t going to end well. Most love potions, the ones that weren’t sold in joke shops, which were diluted and only meant to last for a few minutes, were illegal. You had learnt about the most dangerous ones in Slughorn's class in sixth year, so you were able to recognise them. One of them, the most powerful one, had attracted everyone’s attention back then. The potion alone was infatuating, even if one had not consumed it yet. Its scent had drawn in every person in the classroom, as it smelled different to everyone, based on one's preferences. You still remembered that striking feeling of needing to take the potion yourself. Obsession was the best way to describe it. All rationality had left you once Slughorn had lifted the cauldron’s cover. No one seemed in their right mind anymore. And the mere thought of being at someone’s mercy, without even knowing it, was frightening.

“Amortentia?” you asked.

Tom nodded and you could feel his leg bouncing up and down. His voice still was indifferent, as if he was telling you just another irrelevant story.

“She drugged him with it and didn’t tell her family. They wouldn’t have tolerated a muggle as her husband of course. But they secretly got married and when she was pregnant, she broke the charm, thinking he would love her anyway.”

“And?” you asked, hoping that the answer would be different from what you anticipated.

“He didn’t love her. Obviously. And he ran from her. Left her. Can’t even blame him.”

“He left her when she was pregnant?”

Tom nodded and your heart sank for him. Even though his Father’s actions were understandable to an extent, it was unimaginable what it must feel like to be so unwanted by one of your parents that they would have left before you were even born.

“What happened to her then?” you asked.

“She died while giving birth to me. At least that’s what Marvolo told me.”

“You don’t think she’s dead?”

“Oh, yes I do. I don’t think she died from giving birth.”

“Do you think he… That Marvolo… Killed her?”

Tom shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling. “Possibly. I could see why he would have done it.”

Everyone who knew Marvolo could probably see him do that. That man was evil, to say the least, and seemed to enjoy it when others suffered. But killing his own daughter was something you hadn’t thought anyone, not even the worst person on earth, was able to do without hesitation. 

Silence had fallen over the room. Tom breathed collected and slow, unlike yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered for lack of a better word and held his hand tighter.

“It’s alright,” he answered, his voice sounding like he was the one consoling you when it should have been the other way around. “I have no memory of them. It’s not like I miss her.”

Could you miss someone you never really met? Probably not. But it was definitely possible to know you missed out. 

“And your Father?” you asked. “Do you know where he is now?”

Tom let out a sharp breath as if he was suppressing a laugh. “I don’t think he’s alive either. They never told me, but I assume Marvolo took care of him as well.”

You sighed at his response, turned to lie on your side and rested your head on Tom’s shoulder, your hand leaving his, to hold on to his upper arm. 

There had been so much harm, so much betrayal in his life, even before he could have done something to prevent it. No wonder he behaved the way he did. There had never been hope. He never stood a chance.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you mumbled. “Do you wish it could have been different? If you had gotten to know them.”

“You and your wishful thinking,” he said and you could hear the smile in his tone. “I never thought about it. It wouldn’t change reality. It would just make me mad.”

You nodded as a silent way of approval, your fingertips tracing patterns on the curve of his shoulder.

“I do wonder, however,” Tom said and lifted your chin with his hand, so he could look into your eyes. “What my Father felt when she put him under her spell with Amortentia.”

His gaze darted back and forth between your eyes and your lips, his fingers still holding up your chin when you blinked.

“The closest thing to love, I assume,” you answered, a breath stuck in your throat. “The replica of it at least, as hollow as it may be.”

Tom still looked at you with a glare as sharp as a butcher knife. He sucked in a breath, pondering, and parted his lips, about to say something. Before he could though, he leaned closer, pinned you down to the mattress and kissed you, his hand wandering from your chin to your neck.

An owl from Camille arrived on one of the last days of the break and you smiled reading it, as you walked across Tom’s room.

“Camille wants to meet up on Sunday when she gets back,” you told Tom, still skimming across her lines. “They are official now, Ben and her.”

“Alright then,” Tom said absentmindedly, his nose in one of the books from the library.

“She asked for you to come too.”

His head rose in confusion. “Me? Why?”

“I think she wants us to go on a double date,” you grinned. “To the Three Broomsticks. Sunday at five.”

No matter how sure you were of how much Tom enjoyed your presence, he absolutely wasn’t entertaining the idea of spending time with Ben Hilt. And about that, he was very clear. He had asked you a couple of times if you were sure that Camille meant for him to come and had tried many ways of escaping that date, but alas, you dragged him there.

“Four Butterbeers,” Ben ordered after you had sat down at a table together.

Ben sat across from Tom, who was more than obviously annoyed by the fact he even had to be there. You patted him on the thigh, ordering him to behave, to which Tom eyed you seriously. Camille and you both bit back the smirks on your faces, while Ben tried his best to be friendly.

“So,” he said, looking at Tom and you. “How were the holidays?”

“Mind your own business,” Tom murmured, which luckily no one but you had heard.

“Good,” you spoke over him and pushed your elbow against Tom’s side. “Quiet. Not many people around.”

“Oh, you stayed in school, didn’t you?” Ben asked. “You both?”

Tom didn’t answer and looked back at Ben without a hint of emotion on his face. You nodded and smiled.

“How about you?“ you asked.  “What have you done? Have you met up?” 

“Oh, yes we did,” Camille said. “Ben introduced himself to my parents and then took me to the cinema.”

“Cinema?” Tom and you asked simultaneously. 

You had heard of cinemas before of course. But you had never been. Movies were a muggle invention, and although it sounded tempting, you had never had the chance to go.

“Yes,” Camille confirmed. “We watched ‘Dead of Night’. That’s what it’s called, right?”

Ben nodded as he swung his arm around Camille’s shoulder. “Horror movies. My favourite.”

“Why would you do that?” Tom asked and took his cup from the waiter. “Go to the cinema. That’s such a muggle thing to do.”

“Oh, you’ve never been, huh?” Ben asked. “None of you have, have you?”

“You should have seen his face when I told him,” Camille laughed. Like you, she had grown up in a pureblood family.

“And you should’ve seen mine when I went to her house,” Ben added. “I’m still not used to wizard’s homes, you know. They’re so different. I like them.”

Tom stiffened next to you. 

“You’re muggleborn?” he asked, his mouth agape.

“Indeed mate. Didn’t you know?”

“You’re a mu-… muggleborn,” Tom stammered and looked over to Camille. “But you, you’re a pureblood, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Camille said, a baffled smile on her face.

Tom still had a hard time believing what he had just heard. “And you… You two. Even though…”

“Tom,” you whispered, trying to escape both Camille and Ben’s amused looks, and patted him on the thigh again.

“Excuse me,” he cleared his throat and motioned with his hand. “I just. I didn’t know.”

“Well now you do,” Ben shrugged before taking a big sip of his butterbeer. “Best of both worlds, am I right?”

“Right,” you said when Tom didn’t answer.

Changing the subject seemed necessary, but you couldn’t think of anything worth talking about. The only thing you had been doing was tending to the potion, and that was something you would rather keep a secret. 

“The worst thing is that none of you folks have phones at home,” Ben went on.

“Phones?” Tom asked.

“Telephones. You can call other people and talk to them.”

“I wish I had one,” said Camille. “I told my Father about it and he thinks it’s a great idea. Maybe we’ll get one of those ‘phones’.”

That was interesting. To talk to someone directly, even if they weren’t there? No apparating, no Floo Network. Muggles might have been weak, but they sure knew how to handle their handicaps.

“Why would you need to do that?” Tom asked. “Talk to someone on the phone.”

“Well, it spares a lot of time. No need for owls or letters. You just pick it up from the hook and speak.”

Tom seemed to think about it for a moment. Then he shook his head. “But owls do the job just fine.”

“Not as quickly,” Ben grinned.

“Well, then I’ll send an urgent owl if I need my message to arrive sooner.”

Ben stifled a laugh and took another drink. “I mean, of course, mate.”

“I think it’s interesting,” you said. “And you only hear the voice of the other person? You can’t see them, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Fascinating,” you mumbled. “What other things do you have that we don’t?”

Ben looked into his cup for a moment and hummed. “Well, muggles invented the train, which we all use to go to school.”

“Oh,” Camille gasped. “Wait until he tells Tom about cars.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Of course I know about cars.”

“Have you driven one?” Ben asked.

“Obviously not.”

“You should one day. My Father got a 1943 Bentley recently. Technically I’m not allowed to drive it, because I don’t have a license. But I’ve seen Father drive a lot. So I borrowed the car one night and it was life-changing.”

Tom took a drink and raised one brow. “I’d rather just apparate.”

“Yes, that’s great too. But it doesn’t have the same feeling. It’s really liberating. And much more comfortable than brooms. I could take you all on a ride someday in the summer. The car fits four people.” 

“Why?” Tom asked before you could agree.

Ben raised his eyebrows again, a smile still plastered on his face. “For fun?”

“For fun,” Tom repeated and looked at you as if to ask you what Ben was trying to tell him.

“You should do more things just for fun, mate,” Ben chuckled. “Might help against that constant frown.”

Camille and you laughed quietly, both turning your faces away from the boys and you bit your tongue. Tom straightened his posture, his eyes darting across the table, apparently thinking hard.

“We’ll see about that,” he said and raised his glass. “Mate.”  

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 13

Tags: @ariachaos @daardyrnitta

[atiny-for-life]

Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - Part 19

Masterlist

미친 폼 (Crazy Form) (Z-World)

Before we begin, I'd like to say that I'm writing under the assumption that Ateez are taking a backseat this comeback while the Black Pirates are leading the fight in the streets. This is based on the group's comments prior to the album's release, as well as last album's diary entries which left Ateez in a precarious situation that doesn't align with the happenings in this MV.

We open at night time on a shot of the Black Pirates (in marching-band-esque outfits reminiscent of Wonderland) and their fellow Revolutionists crouching in line in front of a structure which looks like two roofs lined up side by side where the dip between the two cradles the city skyline illuminated by a crescent moon (reminder that the nature of the Cromer‘s powers are affected by the moon cycles).

Keep in mind that Crescent Part 2 can be found on this album while the first part can be found on TREASURE EP.3 : One To All which includes 'Illusion' and 'Wave' - two songs heavily leaning into the concept of dreams and traveling into them by utilizing the Cromer‘s powers. This also aligns with the Alice in Wonderland themed promotions.

Regarding the latter: throughout the MV, you will see colors blur and get splotchy every now and again, indicating this is likely to be a dream transmitted to the citizens to fire them up for the upcoming main event of the revolution. This would also further support my assumption that we only get to see the Black Pirates here as they're the ones visiting others' dreams, not Ateez who seem to be unable to control this power fully and usually just end up in a shared dream among themselves.

Back to the MV: the captain begins to strut down the center aisle between the crouched rows like the runway model he is as he's instructing them to 'Get up'.

Once he's reached the front, everyone breaks formation and jumps right into the performance. The lyrics here already inform us of their intent - follow along, join us, put yourself first and stick it to the authorities.

Side-note: it was bugging me that I couldn't figure out what 9024 could mean so I dug a little and found an explanation by Reddit user " rowtyde37" who explains: "It's actually 90-2-4. So, it is the drums but they are telling you out the gate it's 90 beats per min, 2 quarter (4) notes (beats) each bar. Just a heads up on the drums coming to invade your space."

We cut to Yunho in comfy clothes and a headband back in the bunker who's sitting at a large table covered in blueprints as he activates a palm-sized Iron Man arc reactor looking thing that turns out to be a hologram projector.

Blue tinted holograms of the pirate ship's main mast, buildings, and pieces of teach are floating around him as he flips through them.

Throughout this scene, we regularly cut to Yunho dancing with four fellow revolutionists in a round underground space lined with doors (because he's the main dancer and he deserves this).

We cut to Mingi in a fully black getup with hat inside what looks to be a surveillance room situated in one of the rooftop-like buildings we saw at the start of the video.

His performance there is interspliced with clips of him outside in a suit as he's getting into a car and speeding through the city full of neon signs.

This maniac races into a black alley where he crashes his car straight through the wall of a small unassuming building which turns out to be a casino.

His idgaf attitude takes him straight to the bar where he pours himself a cocktail glass of milk which the bartender doesn't seem to mind.

Once his glass has been emptied, he opens the small metal suitcase near his elbow which contains another of the hologram projectors. I've rewatched the scene frame-by-frame and it seems the case was already there when he arrived so I'll assume the bartender is providing it to aid in the revolution.

This belief is reinforced when we get a shot of Mingi's empty glass filled with a stack of olives impaled by a black cocktail flag sporting the red encircled A representing both Ateez and Anarchy throughout this era.

Moving on to Wooyoung who's joining Yunho in the bunker, though in his own corner where he's surrounded by pieces of tech and holograms. He's wearing an oversized plaid shirt, glasses so large they're reminiscent of safety goggles, and black and silver gloves.

And honestly, I don't know how tech-savvy this little gremlin actually is since he's currently hammering a long-ass nail into the metal hull of some piece of equipment prior to chucking said hammer across the room with what seems to be a pout.

Said hammer shoots by behind Yunho, who's sitting several feet away, before it slams into something off screen and sets off a shower of sparks.

Yunho gapes at him for a sec before he throws up his arms ("The fuck, man?"), to which Wooyoung looks unfazed and points at him ("You asked me to toss it over, why're you mad?") followed by a half eyeroll and look away ("You're overreacting.").

Just then, a warning pops up on Yunho's holo-screen which causes Wooyoung to jog over as well.

We cut to a poker table where a game is in full swing and one of the player's is Jongho dressed up in a simple black suit. We're inside the casino Mingi literally drove into earlier.

The other two players seems to be some high-ranking officials in the military or police force, at least that's what I generally assume every time I see older men in uniform in anything. (In the Making Film, they simply call them "high officials from the Z-World")

Jongho proceeds to hold up the ace of Anarchy which causes one of the uniformed men to pull a gun on him under the table - an action both Jongho and Mingi are clearly aware of since Mingi steps up beside Jongho right away.

Without missing a beat, Jongho snatches up the gun hidden in the waistband of Mingi's pants and points it straight at his opponents. He doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

Cut to Seonghwa set up right outside the heavily fenced off 'Area 08'. He's performing on a makeshift stage right by the gate, surrounded by warning signs telling people to stay away. The building behind the fence is covered in banners sporting the Black Pirates' Z-logo we've last scene in 'Bouncy'.

His audience is made up of fellow revolutionists donning all black robes while he himself is dressed in a flowy white shirt, silver jewelry and a black corset with matching pants. It's clear who's not afraid to be recognized by anyone who could be spying.

The next scene reveals that San and Yeosang are also joining him for this performance, though the scene is interspliced with fleeting clips of all of a larger number of Black Pirates performing together in a back alley lined with shuttered store fronts and neon signs.

It seems to be San, Yeosang, Hongjoong, Wooyoung and Seonghwa who we'll see again a coupla scenes later in the same room Yunho danced in earlier.

Cut to Yeosang and Hongjoong in yet another alley during daylight hours. They brought spraypaints and a skateboard.

It's quickly made evident why they chose to go out during the day for once - they plan to appear on the news.

As Hongjoong reaches the line "Crazy boys are getting crazier", the video takes on a familiar news channel framing. The classic globe logo in the bottom left corner runs through several random letter combinations (the channel has no clear name) until it transforms into the two words "Breaking News".

A recorded feed from the casino's surveillance camera pops up in the top left corner - the scene with Jongho and Mingi played out just last night.

Simultaneously, the news ticker at the bottom of the screen informs us that "The Black Pirates break into the Lounge".

Shout out to Hongjoong's black fingernail. (Join the Polished Man Campaign here)

After all the ruckus Hongjoong has already caused, he somehow manages to twirl in a circle as he shoots bullets from his finger gun into the air.

The power of his imagination is truly something to behold. However, it's far more likely that this is just another indicator that we're not in a regular world but rather a dream transmitted to the locals to fire them up for the upcoming revolution.

Either way, Hongjoong's goofy bout of wackiness alerts the authorities who begin to chase him down the alley which only seems to get him more motivated to dive deeper into a pool of mischief.

He hops onto a car surrounded by armed cops and begins to wiggle his hips to provoke them further. What a legend.

Cut to him spray painting a white line across a wall covered in their own revolution flyers before passing Yeosang who ends up with a white streak straight across his black jacket.

He throws up his hands as he looks after his captain ("Why would you-?")

While once again fleeing from the authorities, Hongjoong nearly collides with a black car which sped up to him. The scene transforms into a comic book panel (this is not the real world).

He rolls across the hood and lands on the other side, only to lean over the hood with a smirk. Another comic panel forms.

Cut to a maniacally laughing Seonghwa getting dragged along by his own audience.

This is closely followed by San showing us his signature peace/middle finger - the return of these gloves is unexpected but welcome, especially in such a idgaf, I'll do what I want MV.

Between group performance clips, we return to Wooyoung in the bunker where he's looking at a hologram of their pirate ship which we'll see again shortly. It has been missed.

We also get to see Yeosang spraypaint "Be Free" onto a shutter door (which joins a marker written 'We Know', referencing the first track on the album).

A scene later, we see the full picture - three shutters, all covered in their signature Z and those two red words: Be Free. The message that connects all versions of Ateez across the multitude of realities.

We return to Jongho in the casino who just fired off three rounds in quick succession while Mingi stands by to watch their maknae go rogue. He must be proud.

One of the bullets swishes past a sprinkler, setting it off, while another pieces the wall and destroys the TV in the neighboring room just as an Android Guardian was seen on screen. It's very symbolic.

Our Haribo walks off with a satisfied lil smirk as the sprinklers gently drizzle him.

Between further performance clips, we return to Hongjoong who's being pushed onto the hood of a car by the cops who'd been hounding him.

He manages to free an arm and affixes a gadget that looks like another holo-projector onto the side of the vehicle which proceeds to eject a beam of light.

The activation signals Wooyoung in the bunker who looks up through a hologram circle. A pulse of light washes across the entire city, dousing it in darkness as a familiar pirate ship appears in the sky like a literal glowing ghost ship; it’s the hologram Wooyoung and Yunho had been working on this entire time.

The moon now appears full as the Black Pirates laugh and celebrate, smirking up to the sky, performing across locations, drinking in the casino/bar which leads me to reasonably believe they really did complete the mission between the two moon cycles but the way they went about it was different from the wackiness that took place in the dream world.

We end with them back at the double-roof structure before the screen cuts to black.

We've done it! Freedom has been achieved in Z-World! This may be the last time we ever see the Black Pirates since Ateez say their goodbyes and return back to the A-World in the Golden Hour: Part 1 - Diary Entries

However, the music video has not ended yet: a beat later, a shattered glowing Cromer appears on screen.

From it rises a bluebird, the one we've last seen in Halazia. It's holding a red pulsating object in its beak as it rises up to the night sky where a red full moon has risen.

The next few videos will be about Halazia World's Ateez - see you there!

[futurequibblerjournalist]

˗ˏˋ✎ ´ˎ˗marauders masterlist

Friendly reminder: I take fic requests! (If you have a general idea, pop it in my ask box with a ship and I'll get around to it!) — I have very few marauders era ships I won't write, so even if you don't see them between the stuff I've already written, you're still very welcome to throw them at me!

AO3

currently updating

trempé de sueur || E | 41.6k | 4/15 | jegulus || After spending most of his summers reading and simply lounging around as a way to distract himself from the heat of France and the intensity of his family, Regulus finds a new distraction in the handsome stranger his brother brings along one particularly eventful summer. Even a summer that seems to last forever will eventually come to an end and what then, when Regulus no longer finds himself satisfied with the romances he's gotten so used to reading about but never quite experiencing?

completed

rosekiller

less than ideal study techniques || E | 2.3k | oneshot || Worried about flunking his N.E.W.T's, Barty needs to study. Evan decides to wave a carrot in front of his boyfriend with the help of some cockwarming.

reverse dress up || E | 3.8k | oneshot || While Evan is determined to find a shirt for their upcoming night out, Barty is determined to be a menace after deciding the shopping was too boring. Luckily Barty was also quick to decide Evan needed a bit of help in the dressing room.

sharpshooter || E | 4.7k | oneshot || After spending far too long unable to, Barty gives Evan the sloppiest, messiest blowjob in the nearest bathroom.

my way or the highway || E | 6.1k | oneshot || Barty and Evan goes on a road trip to visit Pandora, only Evan is reminded just how much of a brat his boyfriend is when left unattended. Luckily there's an exit nearby and a gas station with a bathroom, allowing him to teach Barty a lesson.

jegulus

A Very Merry Christmas Cliché || G | 70.6k | 10/10 || A Hallmark inspired Christmas fic featuring divorcé James trying to give his son Harry the best Christmas ever — with the help of event coordinator Regulus, who's newly arrived in Godric's Hollow after leaving many years prior.

a losing game || E | 3.6k | 1/3 oneshot || Regulus finds his hands wandering down south after he causes Slytherin to lose a match against Gryffindor, all due to the fact that he couldn't stop ogling their chaser. (Getting two sequels).

rabbit's foot || E | 4.1k | oneshot || After a long day of work, one only made longer by Regulus sending James nudes right before an important meeting, James returns home, mouth watering with eagerness to finally take care of his boyfriend.

attention whore || E | 6.6k | oneshot || After spending the night out with friends, the majority being James's, Regulus finds himself feeling jealous and needy for attention. He hardly cared about Sirius's excessive yapping, so why should James? Upon returning home, Regulus makes it clear just how much he needs James, except James now has to earn Regulus's attention in return. It's only fair, right?

wolfstar

routines || G | 1.4k | oneshot || Sirius during his time in Azkaban spends his time trying to remember his routines and most importantly, Remus.

addicting stage presence || E | 6.3k | oneshot || After going to a bar with Lily and a few other friends, Remus finds himself on his knees in a back alley after eyeing the bassist of the band that's been playing all night.

burnt toast || G | 2.4k | oneshot || Sirius wakes up just before five and decides to make breakfast for Remus, given it's his birthday. He takes the time to reminisce a bit on previous birthdays and their life together before getting dragged back to bed when Remus discovers him burning the toast.

jily

laughter in the bedroom || E | 3k | oneshot || Lily brings up the idea of pegging to her boyfriend. (Possibly getting a sequel).

misc

when the stars shined a little brighter || G | 1.8k | oneshot | no ship, Black brothers/Sirius centric || Sirius remembers his last birthday celebrated with his younger brother.

coming soon

stab/stalk au || rosekiller | After discovering the case of missing Judge Bartemius Crouch Senior, Evan Rosier finds himself intrigued by both the case and the family that surrounds it. Within just a few months he finds himself deeply curious in especially Crouch Senior's son, poor Bartemius Crouch Junior, a young boy around Evan's age, who was left to care for his sickly mother all on his own. Though the more Evan learns about Bartemius, or, as he likes to call him, Barty, the more he is forced to realise that perhaps tragedy doesn't just follow Barty on accident.

[springismss]

First meeting - Twilight Link

a/n; it’s certainly been a hot minute but I’m back, this time with a work featuring the hero from a world filled with twilight. First posted to my Ao3 which can be found here

pairing; twilight princess link x female! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; implied drinking, implied gender discrimination

word count; 1,635

headcanon/summary; We start one of our journies into the unknown, what lies ahead? Here we meet the third one of our heroes - the one who can change from a man to a beast and back.

links; TLoZ Masterlist | Works Masterlist

Loud shouts and chatter sounded as you wiped down a table ready for the next people who walked through the door to use. Things in Castle Town seemed to have been busier than usual judging by the number of soldiers and travellers in the bar. You could faintly make out some words but chose to ignore what was being said as you walked towards the front of the bar, wiping your hands on the towel at your hip. "H-Hey we *hic*~"

Rolling your eyes, you saw the soldier who shouted to you slump down onto the table in front of him, out cold, his group beside him poking and making fun of him for being a lightweight. You felt sorry for everyone in the bar in some way, they had fought in so many battles and they had so many upcoming ones that they just needed a bit of normality. Even if their normality was getting drunk and passing out. Scanning in the corner, you saw the slightly bent-over figure of the person you needed. Lifting your hands, you placed them on either side of your mouth, helping your voice carry over the ruckus. "Telma! We've got another one here!".

Upon hearing their name, the figure stood upright and looked over, a smirk tugging at their lips as they placed a hand on their hip. "Is that so, (y/n)? Well then, I better make sure they're on their way".

A wink accompanied their words as you laughed out, whispering "thank you" to the woman as she passed. You hadn't been in Hyrule for long and you had somehow managed to find somewhere in the bustling Castle Town. The view of Hyrule Castle right outside of your window was one that still took your breath away, even if you saw it daily. You tried hard to get a job, something to help you live but every place you tried was either not looking or didn't want a young woman working for them. The first time you heard their words you almost cursed the goddesses for being a woman but decided to smile and walk away, mentally cursing the small-minded people instead. You'd given up hope when you found yourself in the southernmost alley of the town. You just happened to notice the door and it piqued your interest, deciding to try your luck, you walked in and before you knew it you had been hired.

Safe to say you hadn't looked back and you thanked your lucky stars that Telma gave you a chance. After all, you were extremely popular with the young soldiers and travellers, in more ways than one. While it flattered you, you weren't interested. Not because you didn't want their attention, but because you were happy living your life as it was, besides no one had caught your attention. Not yet anyway.

Letting out a yawn, you wiped the bar and placed the few glasses that had been left in the sink, being sure to note to come back to them after you'd done another sweep of the bar to make sure you'd not missed any on the tables. There were only a few stragglers left but you didn't mind staying late than normal, especially when a certain cat kept you company behind the bar. Besides, Telma was expecting someone and asked you to let her know when they had arrived. After picking up a few more glasses, you headed back to your place behind the bar and set the items in your hands at the sink. The ringing of the bell above the bar door made you turn around, offering a bright smile to whoever walked in. "Welcome to Tel~".

Tilting your head in confusion, you looked around and back at the door, shrugging your shoulds when you saw no one new. Deciding it was possibly one of the few who were left inside leaving, you turned around and looked down at the feline at your feet before you began to wash the glasses. "You know, I'm sure I'm losing it slowly, Lousie".

The white cat just looked up at you and meowed, before she stood and stretched, plopping back down and curling herself back up in a ball. Letting out a small laugh, you hummed softly to yourself not paying much attention to the person who had stepped up to the bar, their eyes watching you carefully for a moment, taking in what you were doing and how you interacted with the feline at your side. They could have stayed there all day if they wanted but they had other matters to attend to. "Excuse me miss, can you tell Telma I'm here to see her now".

The sudden intrusion of the words made you jump, your grip on the cloth in your hands tightening as you felt your soul almost leave you. Placing the piece of fabric down, you wiped your hands and turned around, almost ready to give the person a piece of your mind until you met their eyes. Cliché as it sounds but time felt like it had stopped. You'd never seen eyes so blue in your life. Everything seemed to fade away, all there was in your vision was the male who seemed to be staring back at you. It took a moment for your brain to catch up with what he had said, blinking a few times to bring yourself back around. "Huh? Ohh, yeah. L-Let me just grab her for you~".

Walking quickly from behind the bar you walked to a small booth at the side and placed your hands on the table to make yourself known. Of course, Telma was busy with some business but you had your ways of making it known you were there. "Telma, there's someone here to see you".

Peaking from your side, the bar owner looked at the male who stood beside the bar, a bright smile shone on her face when she caught his attention and motioned him over. Looking over your should, you moved to the side when he reached the table and let him slide in as he seated himself down. "Thank you, (y/n). Can you bring us a couple of the special?".

Nodding your head, you smiled softly as walked back towards the area you had come from, feeling eyes on you as you moved.

Doing as you were asked, you brought two glasses over and bowed, excusing yourself to finish cleaning up after the rest of the bargoers left. You hated to admit it but curiosity tried to get the better of you a few times, wondering what business Telma had with this guy. It was nothing to do with you but you wanted to observe him a little more, as selfish as it sounded. You didn't know how long they were talking but soon the sound of Telma beside you at the bar brought you out of your little daydream. "Thank you for staying a little longer, that took a bit more time than I thought.".

Humming you nodded your head and stretched, placing your hands behind your back and untying your apron. It had been a long shift, not that you minded but you were ready to go home and curled up in bed. As if on cue, a yawn left your mouth and you shrunk down slightly in embarrassment, much to the amusement of the older woman. "Go on love, off you go. Take the day off tomorrow, you deserve it and don't worry, you'll still be paid".

Blinking, she must have somehow read your mind but you smiled nonetheless, nodding your head as you gave her a hug, bidding farewell to both her and Louise. Grabbing your cloak, you wrapped it around you and stepped outside the bar's door and carefully shut the door behind you. The cool Hyrulian air hugged what skin was exposed as a sigh of contentment passed your lips. Lifting your hood, you heard the sound of the door opening behind you moving to let the person aside as you slipped your arms under the material that now covered you. That's when a hand on your shoulder made you look and you were face to face with those eyes again. "Oh, it's you. Hope you had a good meeting with Telma, whatever it was about".

Offering a soft smile to the male, you removed your hand from under your cloak and lifted it up, holding it out for him to shake. "I'm (y/n) if you hadn't already guessed earlier and you are?".

The male looked at you and gave a small smirk, taking a hold of your hand and lifting it you his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. You felt like a fire had been lit on your face as you watched him closely. After a lingering few seconds, he placed your hand back at your side and smiled, waving to you as he walked off up the stairs. Looking at your hand, you blocked before looking back at the retreating figure. He hadn't told you his name and you'd be damned if he left without telling you. Rushing forward, you ran up the steps quickly just in time to catch him a few steps in front of you in the alley. "Hey! You didn't tell me your name, bluey".

The male stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder, something about the way he looked at you made you gasp. Was it the nickname you'd given him there due to his eyes or was it something else? You could see the somewhat inner debate before he continued to walk slowly, lifting his hand almost as if he was trying to stop you from following like he sensed you were trying to do just that.

"The name's Link".

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 21: Court's In Session

Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/744620213809594368/behind-masks-dr-jonathon-crane-x-oc-masterlist?source=share

Ka-boom!

The loud noise startles me and I nearly fall off the ledge I’m sitting on. A strong rumble shakes the ground and in the distance I hear a choir of screams. What the Hell was that?

“It’s done!”

In the alley below someone sprints over to whisper to a man standing behind a dumpster.

“All the cops are buried!”

Are they serious? Gordon actually went through with that malarkey? I thought the news was joking. But no, they’ve corralled the entire police force into Gotham’s tunnels and now they’re stuck. Hm. I wonder what comes next? Any idiot can figure that out.

I slip off the ledge and down into the streets, making a beeline for Selina’s place. Please be home please be home-!

Knock knock.

“Keith, if that’s you I’ll break your other wrist,” Catwoman drawls from behind the door.

“Sadly I’m not him. It’s Calico.”

The door pulls open and Selina tugs me in before she slams it shut. Is it just me or is she packing? What’s the suitcase for?

“You’re leaving before it’s complete anarchy,” I put together. “This was the storm, wasn’t it?”

“Yes and I don’t have time for questions,” Selina speaks quickly. “You can have my apartment. Use whatever you want. I’m leaving. Sorry but I only have one ticket.”

The old me would be sad and appalled that she’s practically abandoning us in this mess. But the new me is surprisingly cool about this upcoming fate. 

“The Reaper thrives in chaos.”

And so chaos arrives. It’s been a week since that explosion buried the cops. Turns out that wasn’t the only explosion. Several others destroyed all but one bridge to prevent us from leaving. Queensboro Bridge is the only one left to provide supplies and act as a false beacon of escape. Word is that an armed nuclear bomb is hidden within the city, ready to detonate if one of us tries to leave. Tanks patrol the streets to ‘upkeep order’ but it’s really just the League abusing their power over Gotham’s citizens. Oh, the citizens. Selina was right. Utter chaos. The poor are rich, the rich are poor. A fight against equality has broken out.

Only a few leftovers of law enforcement are still trying to help. Every few days I see Blake, Gordon, and a few others trying to maintain peace. I want to join them but it’s out of my hands. They’ll only see me as a hooded villain adding fuel to the fire.

Speaking of fire, another fun tidbit of information came my way yesterday. Turns out the League wasn’t the cause of my apartment’s destruction. It was Harley Quinn. Before Bane’s robbery she broke in and trashed it. Don’t ask me why. I’ve been unable to track down the lunatic and interrogate her.

If any other villains remain in Gotham they’ve kept low. Honestly this must seem like candyland for some of them. No cops? That’s every villain’s dream. And, as usual, the only itching question is what’s become of my favorite doctor…

General POV

Dr. Crane didn’t know what to make of the mess when it unfolded. Does he flee? Does he stay and prey on the rising fear? That is a reasonable perk.

Now, hidden in the Gotham library with Nigma, the fear doctor is starting to reconsider. Spreading fear is one thing but when you’re fighting tooth-and-nail for a roll of toilet paper then it gets less intriguing. And, as usual, the itching question is what’s happened to the lovely Dr. Prentiss- Um, favorite test subject.

“New riddle! The more there is, the less you see. What am I?”

Crane hardly hears the Riddler’s question. He’s too busy staring out the window half-hoping to see a hooded figure pass by.

“Answer: Darkness, which is what we’ll be in if you don’t get more batteries,” Nigma scolds and holds up a flashlight. When Crane still doesn’t respond he rolls his eyes. “Calico isn’t here.”

“Huh?” Crane looks over.

The Riddler cackles. “You can’t let her go, can you?”

Dr. Crane resumes his stern expression and looks away. “If she's still here she’s acting on her own accord. I’m not keeping her here.” A few seconds go by and he thinks out loud: “How can someone so stunning be so aggravating?”

Riddler, contrasting to Ivy, has never seen a reason why these two can’t be together. They’re both intellectual and attractive. Yes Callie’s a coldblooded killer and Crane is, well, Crane. But all the more reason why they might need each other to bring a sense of sanity to their lives. A complex social riddle if Nigma ever saw one.

“You miss her. Don’t you?”

Dr. Crane dismisses himself to end the conversation, but not before Nigma overhears him mutter: “Somehow she makes up a part of me I didn’t even know I was missing.”

That’s the trigger. If the apocalypse is going to transpire then at least it should tie up some very needed loose ends.

“Dr. Crane?”

A new voice from the doorway shocks the villains. Riddler pulls out a gun and Crane prepares to throw a toxin bomb. A brutish man in a bulletproof vest steps in with his hands in the air.

“No threats, gentlemen. Dr. Crane, we’ve got quite the offer for you.”

“Oh really?” The doctor asks apprehensively, still poised to strike.

“I promise it will be well worth your talent.”

Calico’s POV

Gotta say, outsmarting the League’s goons is fun! All day I’ve been swiping food and equipment from under their noses and they have no clue! I give the supplies to the citizens, a gesture that I hope will make up for a fraction of my sins. And right now I’m watching the sunset across the frozen bay on top of what’s left of the bank. If it weren’t for the tank driving by this would be a touching moment.

Screeee!

A new siren wails through the city. Ugh. I shouldn’t investigate. But I have nothing else to do at the moment. I slide down to the icy pavement and walk towards the courthouse. What- What the Hell is going on?

“Justice!”

“Come witness our law!”

People are yelling all down the street. Curious. I try to get a better look but the crowd is making it impossible. I slip on my hood and sneak behind a distracted lady.

“What’s going on?”  I ask her.

“Oh! Bane’s establishing a people’s court!” she answers happily.

People’s court? Run by these people? We mine as well elect Arkham patients for government too. Bang up job, League of Shadows. You’re going to have a human zoo in a concrete cage.

“...Judge Crane is sentencing.”

My head jerks up. “Did you say Crane? As in Dr. Crane?”

The man speaking shakes his head. “It’s Judge Crane now. He’s been chosen to sentence the guilty.”

I have to see this.

After fighting my way through I finally reach the large doors. It’s even more crowded inside. Lord, how many trials are they running? I mean there’s plenty of charges to deal with but this is overdoing it. I turn the corner and- Oh my.

“I leave for a few weeks and you turn into a judicial puppet,” I taunt. “Had me worried for a second.”

There, right in front of me, stands Dr. Crane wearing a judge’s robe. How the tables have turned.

He flinches at my voice and whips his head around. My eyes look up to meet his familiar crystal blue ones. He’s just as astonished to see me.

“How are you still here?” 

“I’m stuck here the same as everyone else, Dr. Crane. Talk about a dead end. Though not literally of course, because I am still breathing.”

He looks… good? As far as it goes in today’s world, I mean. His suit is tattered and stained but he makes it work. His unkempt hair looks decent. As for his face there’s no mistaking the stubble that’s starting to grow. Despite this Dr. Crane still manages to pull off making rugged look sexy.

“How have Bane’s plans been treating you?”

Crane’s jaw tightens. “Most poorly. And you?”

I shrug and remove my mask to get a better look at him. “Any day I can breathe is a gift. Discovered any new fears?”

He steps closer, shaking his head. “All ordinary. Any new methods of death?”

“Aside from those who already offed themselves with a gun? No. I’m not killing anymore.”

“Really?” He asks, intrigued.

“There’s enough despair spreading without me helping,” I mutter. “I thought you’d be the one gaining something from it.”

Crane chuckles at my small joke. “I think the fear of death is most popular.”

In the background we hear a guard groan. “If this is how you guys flirt then I never want to see it again.”

Uhhh…

Oh thank God he’s walking away. Jeez. I thought Harley was the romantic! From the way Dr. Crane cringes I can tell he’s fazed too. Hm. I go from all-out fearing love to gagging at it like a child.

Crane changes the subject. “So you’re retiring from being a vigilante?” 

I nod. “I’m through with that. It’s every man for himself now. Bane hasn’t figured out who I am and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Crane smirks. “What happened to helping others?”

“It got boring and pointless,” I drone darkly. “I do my good deed for the day and then I clock out. If you’d like to taunt me with my past failures then I’m afraid I must take a raincheck.”

As good as it is to know Dr. Crane’s alright, our shambles of a social relationship aren’t exactly set in stone. For all I know he’s planning to poison me again. And with all the disorder raging about that would not be the craziest way to die.

“Are you going back to Ms. Kyle’s?” Crane asks when I start to leave.

“It’s mine now. She left to get on a plane the second Bane took over.”

“Left? Without you?” 

I turn around to face him again. Do I detect a hint of concern? Jonathan knows I can survive perfectly fine on my own. Why the sudden interest?

“I don’t have anything waiting for me elsewhere,” I reply. “I got an offer for a job in Central City, but it didn’t seem right.”

“And now you’re stuck here,” he says, trying to look away but is still staring at me.

“Now I’m stuck here.” I gesture to his new ‘uniform.’ “What’s your pay here?”

He scoffs. “Gotham’s been plunged into complete anarchy. It’s practically the apocalypse, and you’re asking that?”

I tilt my head in consideration. “At least you’re not dead.”

Crane looks to the floor and busies himself with fiddling with a spray bottle of fear toxin. “That might be a better option.”

“Don’t talk like that,” I try to encourage him. “From what I hear you’ve got an important job, Judge Crane. That means you’re protected.”

Crane meets my eyes again. “It means I’m under constant surveillance,” he whispers.

Oh. I didn’t think of that. They must have been watching Crane to select him for this position. Does that mean I’m on a list too?

“I should leave while I still can,” I murmur as I discreetly look around for cameras.

“You should,” Crane agrees, still adjusting his sleeves. “It will be less stressful without you.”

Despite my efforts to ignore him my heart is still tugged by his cold words. “Gee. It’s nice to feel wanted. Goodbye-”

“Don’t go!” he blurts.

“Why?!” I fire back, feeling very confused.

His icy blue eyes flash a sudden mix of panic and despair. “I don’t know! Just- don’t go.”

“You can’t order me around!” I hiss.

“Crane! Is this bitch giving you trouble?”

Too late to keep things quiet. Now I have another guard staring me down!

“Hey! You got a name, tootz? If you ain’t one of us then you aren’t allowed here.” When I don’t flinch away he leans in closer with a malicious grin. “You don’t fear death.”

My eyes remain cold and unblinking. “Death is unavoidable. In a twisted place like Gotham, it’s bred constantly. Death would be a welcomed friend.”

Just then another guard with a beard walks over and touches my hood. “Ah, I recognize this! You’re the Raven?”

Seriously? “Reaper,” I grunt.

The guard waves it off. “Right, right. Well Reaper, we’ll let ya slide once you sit in for this next hearing.”

I’m pushed away towards the hallway. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” the guy answers. “C’mon, move it along.”

Oh my God. This is far from a normal courtroom. A giant section for citizens is off to the left while a giant pile of furniture covered in trash and toilet paper stands at the end of the room. A single chair is placed in the center. Maybe it’s my twisted humor but it’s going to be hilarious to watch this play out.

“Coming through! Next client coming through!”

I slip over to stand near the back as somebody makes room for a slimy-looking rich guy. He’s shoved into the chair and waits for the procedure to begin. Across the giant room a familiar face appears on top of the makeshift judges bench. Dr. Crane is obviously enjoying this. As if his ego can't grow any bigger. Crane bangs a gavel to signal for silence.

“Take me to Bane! Where is Bane?” The client asks.

“There’s been no mistake, Mr. Striver. You are Phillip Striver, Executive Vice President of-” Crane takes another look at a document. “Daggett Industries? Who for years has been living off the blood and sweat of people less powerful than him.”

Did I hear that right? The rich are getting sentenced to what they deserve? This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for! Who knew it had to come to this for my dream to be granted?

“I, I am one of you-” Striver tries to convince Crane.

“Bane has no authority here. This is merely a sentencing hearing.”

Um, I’m not caught up with too much, but Bane is literally standing in the same room. Right over there. Wow Crane, you’ve got guts.

“Now, the choice is yours. Exile, or death?” Dr. Crane asks with bored glee.

The crowd erupts into roars of name-calling and Crane has to make them quiet down again. Striver isn’t looking so well.

“Ex-Exile.”

“Sold!” Crane bangs the gavel and the crowd cheers. “To the old man in the cold sweat.”

Always the lover of fear. Striver is pulled out of the chair and pushed through the crowd once more. After all this I might have to tip my hat to Crane for accepting such a role.

“New clients coming through!”

Who will it be now? Mr. Garold? Judith Lexington? It’s- Commissioner Gordon? And his small gang of rebels? Striver I understand but why them?

“Gordon’s arrested?” I ask a man next to me. “On what charges?”

“The people of Gotham have taken action,” he says.

“To do what? He’s trying to help us!”

“No lawyer. No witnesses. What sort of due process is this?” the gruff Commissioner demands.

“Your guilt has been determined. This is merely a sentencing hearing,” Crane explains nonchalantly. “Now what will it be: death, or… exile?”

This is how they execute? All because some people disagree with how bad things are? This isn’t anarchy and this isn’t a people’s court. It’s a dictatorship!

Gordon isn’t impressed either. “Crane, if you think that we’re going onto that ice willingly, you have another thing coming.”

Dr. Crane nods in a sarcastic way. “Death, then.”

“Looks that way,” Gordon clarifies.

What? No! Not Gordon! He’s one of the only good cops left!

“Very well. Death!” Crane orders, then smiles blankly down at him. “By exile.”

Son of a bitch.

The group is led out just like Striver. All I can do is restrain from jumping in. I’m no match for all the brute muscle here. If I was going to intervene it would have to be an inside job. I should have known Crane would exercise loopholes. He’s probably had it out for Gordon ever since he was fired from Arkham. A compassionate city meets the special needs of its citizens. Gotham does nothing. At this point I wonder if there’s anything I can do at all to fix this mess.

“So this is how liberty dies,” I murmur as everyone around me leaves to watch Gordon’s guilt walk. “With thunderous applause.”

As much as I want to look up to Crane in his new role it still feels wrong. He is a high-authority figure, but a psycho figure nonetheless. The rioting crowd dies down and now only Crane and a few guards are left. He walks closer and the mere sight of him is making my heart fight my brain.

“Well? What did you think?” The devilish judge asks.

Bastard! Hero? Psycho! Genius? I don’t know anymore! 

Suddenly a brutish man in a hoodie stomps up and roughly taps Crane’s shoulder, giving me a stern glare. 

“Hey, miss. We need to talk about the next case.” He looks between Crane and I. “Alone. So can ya scram?”

My legs agree but my mind’s still spinning. What? We aren’t finished! 

Jonathan leans in quickly and whispers: “Meet me in the back alley.”

Oh dear.

[dre6ming]

The delicate beginning rush - teaser

A picture board of teasers for the upcoming chapter

Pairing Austin Butler x singer/actress fem reader

Chapter 15 - out on February 17th

MASTERLIST <ch 1->14>

IMAGINES MASTERLIST-short stories

get added to my TAG LIST

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Leaked pictures from Timothee Chalamet’s birthday- a surprised love story maybe?

The leaked pictures show, the Grammy nominated singer and actress, Y/n having fun doing karaoke with actor Austin Butler. Rumors about the two dating started early this year after they met at the Met Gala. The actor, who at the time was dating model Kaia Gerber, broke up with her just a few months ago, since then fans have been wondering if these two might be the cause. What do you think?

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Out on a friendly walk? Or finally dating?

Austin Butler & Y/n caught walking the streets of New York. Y/n and the actor seem to have more and more encounters as she was the one to present him with his very first Golden Globe a few days ago. We also note that the two were also photographed together last week, in LA, before the award show - picture right here.

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Spotted! Actor Austin Butler and Y/n leaving the Oscars together!

The former Oscar winner actress, was present at the 2023 award ceremony. She allegedly attended alone and was there to present the award for best actor, since she won the female category last year. To no one’s surprise Austin Butler was the one to take the award home for his performance of Elvis Presley in the 2022 biopic. The two shared a tight hug on stage and were rather distant for the rest of the night, that is of course before they were caught by the paparazzi leaving together. Just look at the cute picture, I think this takes us one step further to understand where these two stand, after a year long of speculations

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Oscars 2023 - after party at Baz Luhrmann’s

We can not believe our eyes, after leaving the Oscars together, Austin Butler and Y/n are photographed cozying up at Baz Luhrmann’s after party. We really can’t get enough of these two. I think our best bet to find out what is actually going on between them is by hiring a professional investigator- anyone want to volunteer?

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It’s official- Y/n and Austin Butler are dating - we repeat they are dating!!

The 20 year old, Grammy and Oscar winner, actress and singer, was photographed lip locking with 30 year old Oscar winner, Austin Butler. I’d say we have quite the power couple here. Now what do you think about the age gap of 10 years? Also wouldn’t we all like to know how these two hid their relationship for the past year? Were they involved early last year during the time he was dating his former model girlfriend, Kaia Gerber and she was supposedly dating the singer Joshua Bassett?

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Austin Butler falls asleep on his girlfriends lap while she reads to him

A month after being photographed kissing in a dark alley in New York, Y/n and Austin Butler make it official as she posts a cute picture of the actor falling asleep on her lap. We couldn’t be more in love with these two and we are extremely happy for the happy couple

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I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 21…

Austin Butler surprises everyone by posting on his instagram for the first time in months, his last post being a thank you towards the Academy for his award, that was back in March. Now it seems that he and his girlfriend had a joined birthday party. The two of them have an age gap of 10 years and 9 days, with his birthday being on august 17th 1992 and hers on august 26th 2002. This was the actor’s caption for his girlfriend Y/n: happy birthday to my sweet girl, my heart beats in your name.

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Y/n on vacation with her boyfriend Austin Butler

From the actress’s instagram account we have a small sneak peak at her and Austin Butler’s vacation. We are not sure about where exactly the two are since they seem to be experts at hiding form the press, but we’re hoping for more content soon.

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The first fall of snow.. or maybe not?

From Y/n’s instagram, we have a picture of her and Austin Butler kissing in the snow. They look so cute and adorable, we love every time we get a glimpse into their private relationship, especially as the two approach their one year anniversary - at least in the public eye. Close sources to the couple, state that we are actually counting up to the second year of them dating. Opinions? Do you think the source is right?

Tags: @galaxygirl453 @rainydayz101 @samaraannhan20 @marlowmode @myradiaz @areuirish @micaelainthe60s @homebodybirkin2003 @pennyroyalcreep @purejasmine @strokesofstokes @lanasfloridakiloss @denised916 @kibumslatina @macey234 @melodixs-blog @shantellescrivener @chewiethecatus @guacala @fangirl125reader @father-of-2cats @lucid315 @melodixs-blog @ilovehobi101 @richardslady121 @jensmithin @julie181 @chrisevansgirl34 @ranaissingle @onecrazydirectioner @maria-1287 @austinbutlerssimp @kingdomforapony @acoolnight @tarot-sybarite @goldenmarygio @frozenhuntress67 @anonyboo63478338 @littlewhiterose @thefallofthedamned @1eminicookie

[eric-the-bmo]

Hello I saw your tag PLEASE tell me about Annabelle Von Gears she seems right up my alley

OUGIYGH OH BOY LET ME RAMBLE ABOUT MY OC, THIS IS PROBABLY GOING TO BE STRUCTURED HORRIBLY LMAO—

So! Annabelle von Gears is my character for an upcoming homebrew campaign my friend's been wanting to run for about a year; She's put so much work into it, it's fascinating! (So sorry if u weren't expecting ttrpg stuff, but the floodgates have opened, and as a man with a special interest in ttrpgs I'm not going to shut up now—)

In very simple terms, Annabelle is a porcelain warforged/robotic wizard (bladesinger, specifically) who grew tired of her life and runs off to go adventuring. I adore her and this WILL be an infodump under the readmore!!!

[Art by @teefs_art on twitter!]

Augh okay I have no idea if I'll be able to get everything down, especially her thoughts on her family and herself, but here we go-

In terms of personality, I've been keeping it a bit vague; I'd like to have some room to build upon it when we finally play, and I've found it's easier to go off a general vibe.

So: Annabelle, at the start, is really just trying to do her job as a secretary and is very bored over the whole thing. While disruptions in the day can annoy her, she secretly delights in a few of them, because hey- that's another break in monotony, baby! After discovering free will later on, she's a lot more impulsive and upbeat, but still attempts to maintain her air of formality and fanciness. She most likely has a very strong sense of what's considered "fair." Due to Annabelle's upbringing, she'll probably be a bit rude and insensitive to others and their plights at times- and despite her sarcasm, she seems unable to detect it in others?

I definitely need to think more about how to include some knightly traits for her, and yknow, the whole thing of self vs duty, but... eh, yknow. Just vibes so far ☆

Anyway, the fact she's not literally built for a life of adventuring does nothing to dissuade her, btw; she'd rather do this than go back to a boring job.

Fun(?) facts:

Annabelle was based off the idea of "hey, what if a porcelain robot got hurt a lot and had to be fixed up with gold? Wouldn't that be cool or what"

Annabelle has programmed codes! Some of them include not being able to enter certain parts of the Von Gears manor, and being physically unable to harm her father figure (She can certainly try, but it's extremely difficult to break through those instructions)

She can sleep standing up, and yes, this probably will unnerve her party members very much ☆ (She can also stand completely still! More than once she's startled a foreign diplomat by blending in with the various statues and automatons in the manor, and so she's not allowed to go into those rooms anymore lmao)

Annabelle would really like collecting vinyls <3

She has the emblem of her home kingdom painted on her shoulder blades/upper back (it's an eagle with its wings outstretched!)

She can remove her face plate, and getting fixed by an artificer or mechanic is a bit uncomfortable :-/ It's like going to the dentist.

Annabelle is supposed to have a German accent- but I'm unable to do one. 😔

Her favorite term of endearment is to call someone "butterfly"; but so far she exclusively refers to only her sister with it.

She's unable to cry; she's not built with tear ducts! :-(

She's probably got a list full of silly little things to do while adventuring- like sneak into a building, or take part in a bar fight.

Taking heat damage is flavored as such: Her porcelain coverings are actually pretty heat-resistant! However, her insides aren't. It almost acts like an oven... (good luck venturing the kingdom of Helosh, love! ouch)

I'm absolutely going to find out how she can stim with her magic. No one can stop me /lh

And now for her general story: (note: I'm only putting in the most basic information for this. There's so much worldbuilding, but I sadly don't have time to ramble about all that. Again, sorry if this is incoherent, augh)

On the continent of Mysterra, most warforged reside in the country of Tectonica, which is ruled by Warrick von Gears (I forget his exact official title), a warforged who's been around for a very long time- definitely more than 100 years.

Following Mysterra's calendar, in 1835 Warrick decided he wanted a family with his wife Eleanor (also a warforged), and on the 19th of the Month of Talis, he commissioned the construction of Aria as his daughter– Annabelle was then added as a sudden addition. It took a year to complete the both of them, at which point artificial souls were placed inside their chests, and they were taken home to Tectonica's capital of Skysummit.

Despite being awoken at the same time, Annabelle is considered the more mature out of the two- mentally being in her 20s, with Aria being around 12- and primarily functions as Warrick's secretary. She arranged meetings, schedules, etc, and traveled along with him to diplomatic meetings to the capitals of other countries- along the way she picked up how to speak Gnomish and Draconic, as Windberg and Balaur do frequent dealings with Tectonica.

But eventually, she got bored with... well, just about all of it. It all began to seem monotonous, with only traveling for meetings, chess games with Warrick, and the shenanigans of Aria to break it all up. (She cares very much for her sister; it's almost the energy of "If this one favorite coworker wasn't here I would've quit a Long Time Ago" /hj). She wasn't really allowed to leave the estate without permission- and the thought to do so anyway had never occurred to her- so she had to find a few ways to avoid completely losing it.

Despite the fact she was built with a variety of coded spells to ensure self-defense, Annabelle began to study the variety of spellbooks and fiction in the Von Gear estate to stave off her boredom and restlessness- as well as daydreaming, becoming a lover of gossip, practicing swordfighting with some decorative blades hanging up on the wall, etc; all while wondering if something was wrong with her. Because she was built for this job, so surely she shouldn't be dissatisfied, right? [And what's with that strange tugging in her chest sometimes..?] But nothing ever seemed wrong when the mechanics showed up for yearly checks, so she didn't really ever bring it up in conversation to Warrick.

[While she loves the other Von Gears, her discontent with her current life makes her feels separate from them. Combined with her job as a secretary, she tries to be formal towards them and keep a distance– but she makes a few exceptions. She has fun with Aria, and despite her insistence she's really not part of the family, she does participate in family game night, and has accidentally called Warrick "dad" more than once. Anyway...]

And so, in the year of 1842, Annabelle von Gears is still the secretary of Tectonica's ruler— that is, until a famed Artificer is late for his scheduled meeting with Warrick. This catapults the events of the campaign, as well as Annabelle meeting her future party— an artificer searching for her missing father, a barbarian seeking revenge for the destruction of her town, a ranger with the last known dragon egg, and a paladin trying to prevent his kingdom from being destroyed by a volcano.

She’ll be sent by Warrick to join them for a quest, much to her surprise, and will discover that adventuring is just what she needs in her life. She runs off to join them, promising her sister she'll write to her.

Being an impulsive woman once she's discovered she has free will, Annabelle's bound to get into trouble and gain all sorts of scars- and probably a lot of them, since she literally isn't built for adventuring– as well as probably gaining... odd visions? And passing knowledges of skills previously unbeknownst to her? Strange...

While adventuring, Annabelle will occasionally feel guilt for leaving her job and family behind.

And oh, the Reveal! During her journey, Annabelle von Gears will eventually discover the truth that her soul isn't artificial like she was told: She had been a flesh-and-blood person whose soul had been ripped out (either from a living body or the afterlife) and rewired, just like every other warforged.... Which would explain all the odd memories and possibly even her want for adventure- she had been a person before. And surely Warrick must've known this whole time, right? (cue, hopefully, a climactic daughter-father fight)

(There's also an idea the DM and I have where Annabelle encounters the "resurrected" body of who she used to be, possibly leading to the body attempting to kill her so it can get its soul back. We're going to have so much fun with the horror elements)

Anyway augh this was A Lot, thank you for showing interest and allowing me to Ramble ;-;✌️🫶💕

[distant-screaming]

9, 11, 14, 20, 25

hi beloveddd <333!

9. currently watching

in terms of bl not much! I still have hidden agenda to finish from like six centuries ago, and I'm watching pit babe and liveblogging it (though that one might be abundantly clear to quite literally everyone who follows me). I'm planning on watching we are as soon as it's done airing, and that's about it!

11. most anticipated upcoming bl

I'm gonna be so real with you I don't know half of the upcoming bls 😔 so not much! maybe the heart killers? based on what I've heard it seems right up my alley!!

14. bl you think is underrated

omg welcome back to another episode of 'dee does not quite understand what is and is not popular but tries anyway'! let's see, probably my most immediate answer is Kamisama no Ekohiiki, a jbl that literally lives in my heart because I love it so dearly <3 it uses its tropes so well and really creates this wonderful, jbl-esque emotional narrative that made me cry more than once. another jbl I adore is the 4 episode long Kimi no Koto Dake Mite Itai! this one's just. so cute and fluffy and friends to lovers it makes me happy :)

20. actor you think is underrated

once again I do not understand who is and is not popular ahfjsjdjdjfj 💪‼️ I recently watched tonhon chonlatee with @ranchthoughts (it was a whole thing) and I found pod's acting to be extremely enjoyable!! not sure if he qualifies as underrated though......

25. favorite friends

mmm real life actors? probably either joylada gang (joong/dunk/phuwin/pond) or bo gang (mark/satang/fourth)? I don't interact with them much though. if we're talking about characters, then tonhon chonlatee's friend group is probably my favorite part of the show! I also really love msp's little guys of course <3

YIPPPEE YAY I love having opinions!!!