#dark dark night ........absolute tune. there is no other song like this..........

[girlkisser13]

apollo cabin headcanons

children of apollo

• apollo claims his children with a radiant golden aura with "we will rock you" playing triumphantly in the background.

• they are all born with a golden ring around the iris of their eye.

• many, if not all of them are born around sunrise and die around sunset.

• whenever there's a day that the sun isn't shining, it means a child of apollo has died and the sun god is mourning them.

• sometimes, someone will sing a random note, and then everyone around them will harmonize with them.

• the infirmary is always so HECTIC. like they all have insanely good accuracy so they’re just constantly throwing medical supplies at each other.

• they’re experts at hiding earbuds under their clothes so that teachers don’t see them.

• they’re all really sensitive to sounds. every tune that is off-key is the equivalent of a fork scrapping against a plate.

• their adhd is worse than most demigods because they can’t stand silence. long testing periods where you have to be silent are absolute torture for them.

• they all have some form of synesthesia.

• it’s harder for them to get sick compared to other demigods but when they do, it’s a mess. they take a lot longer to recover from the sickness.

• they’re always awake at the crack ass of dawn. not because they’re the children of apollo, but because apollo plays loud rock music every morning at a frequency that only his kids can hear.

• they’re basically roosters.

• they all have perfect pitch (they can tell what a note is just by hearing it).

• not all of them are good healers but there are certain times when it is mandatory for all children of apollo to be working in the infirmary.

• these times are mostly during and after war, an outbreak of a highly contagious disease, or after a particularly violent game of capture the flag.

• those who can't heal cut bandages, hand things to their siblings, and comfort scared patients.

• during the winter they always have the feeling of the warm sun shining on their skin even if it isn't there.

• as cool as they try to act, they are all shakespeare enthusiasts and can't help but quote it if you get them started.

• twins are common in the cabin since it sort of runs in the family.

• they’re ready for a musical number at any time. like one of them can yell the first note of a song and everyone else will join in.

• because artemis has her hunters, apollo tends to have more sons than daughters (it evens things out). when a daughter of apollo arrives to camp, her brothers are super overprotective over her.

• they’re known for replying to things with song lyrics.

• those who are musically inclined had formed an acapella group called the acapollos.

• they are completely terrified of the dark, due to their father being the god of light.

• they don't hate the dark itself— they're afraid of what they can't see, resulting in each of them having night lights above their beds. these night lights are shaped like the sun.

• they tend to glow when they’re near their crush or favorite person. the stronger the feelings are, the brighter the light is.

• they have secret late night jam sessions with lyres, pan flutes, and tambourines that can go all night. apollo listens in with a magic radio whenever they happen.

cabin exterior

• the cabin is bathed in a soft, golden glow, reminiscent of sunlight. this effect is most pronounced at sunrise and sunset, symbolizing apollo's dominion over the sun.

• the walls are adorned with intricate sun motifs and celestial designs, depicting various phases of the sun, stars, and constellations.

• musical notes and lyres are carved into the woodwork, reflecting apollo's role as the god of music. wind chimes made of delicate metals hang from the eaves, creating a harmonious melody when the breeze blows.

• quivers of arrows and archery targets are prominently displayed around the exterior.

• golden and yellow flowering vines, such as sunflowers and marigolds, climb the cabin walls, adding a natural touch and symbolizing the sun's life-giving energy.

• the architecture features clean lines and an open, airy design, with large windows to let in plenty of sunlight, creating a bright and welcoming atmosphere.

• one wall is dedicated to a mural depicting scenes of various prophecies, showcasing apollo's gift of foresight. the mural changes and updates itself magically as new prophecies are made.

cabin interior

• various musical instruments, such as lyres, guitars, and harps, are scattered around the cabin. there are also dedicated spaces for practice and impromptu jam sessions, complete with sheet music stands and comfortable seating.

• the walls are adorned with paintings and murals created by the campers. these artworks depict scenes from mythology, portraits of famous musicians, and abstract representations of music and light.

• the interior decor uses a warm color palette of golds, yellows, and oranges, creating a sunny and cheerful ambiance. the furnishings are made of light-colored woods, adding to the bright and airy feel.

• one wall is dedicated to a large blackboard or whiteboard where campers can jot down lyrics, poems, and song ideas. this serves as a collaborative space for creativity and inspiration.

• several small, soundproof practice rooms are available for campers to practice their instruments, sing, or record music without disturbing others.

• a corner of the cabin is dedicated to repairing and maintaining musical instruments. it is equipped with tools, spare parts, and workbenches for campers who enjoy the technical side of music.

• the cabin is designed with excellent acoustics, ensuring that music sounds rich and vibrant. this makes the entire cabin feel like a resonant chamber, enhancing the musical experience.

cabin traditions

• on the winter solstice, they stay up all night so they can see their dad and all celebrate by saying "welcome back!"

• they have a weekly archery challenges among themselves with rotating themes, like shooting while blindfolded, hitting moving targets, or shooting from unconventional angles.

• they have an annual slam poetry competition in june when everyone is back at camp.

• the cabin regularly holds workshops on different aspects of healing, from herbal remedies to more magical techniques. they often team up with the demeter cabin for plant-based healing knowledge.

• they organizes an annual talent show open to all campers. it’s a fun, light-hearted competition where everyone can showcase their skills, whether it's music, archery, healing, or something completely unexpected.

divider by @samspenandsword

[gotham-daydreams]

Well that took a dark turn-

ANYWAYS what if reader escapes their first kidnapped Attemp from batfam and just dissappears, like go into hiding, and they can't be tracked down for a few weeks, what will batfam do?? Do you think the reader will be able to do that? 👀 👀 (I love this series and the ideas anons are giving ıts amazing<33)

What can I say? With yanderes there are only dark corners that progressively get darker the further you go.

(Also I'm glad! And I agree!! The ideas the anons are giving are amazing and I love them to bits!)

As for your question, in the series I don't believe that the reader will be able to fully achieve that. Since with what actually happens- well, it's kind of complicated, though they could try!

In a hypothetical scenario (that, once again, doesn't involve what'll happen in the series), the Batfam, in short, would freak the fuck out all over again.

Granted, they do have more information about the reader this time around, compared to when they first started looking for them. However, that doesn't seem to help, as they aren't able to locate the reader anywhere. Having even more trouble than the first night they tried looking for them, which is kind of saying something.

As you've said, it takes them a few weeks. Though by the first week they're already on the brink of insanity.

The Batfam finally had a taste of what life could've been with the reader in it. Of what life is like with the reader in it. Only for that to get taken away from them... and maybe it is deserved. Maybe that's just karma finally biting back, and showing the Batfam the one good thing that's ever happened to them, only to take it away. Only to steal it away again, to pour more pounds of salt on their aching wounds. Maybe it's what they deserve for ignoring the reader, and neglecting them for so long.

But they don't care.

They had the reader. They finally managed to bring them back home- and this happens? The reader ends up disappearing all over again? They leave again? But why? Didn't they want this too? Didn't they want to be a part of the family? What happened to that? Why can't they have it anymore? Why does the reader keep running away?

Y'know how I said in that one post where an anon asked "what would happen if the reader moved to a different country, instead of staying in Gotham?" (Or something around those lines-), that the Batfam would not only lose their minds, but be on the very brink the moment they find the reader, and thus, don't even have to think before kidnapping them? Well, this is very similar to that, except during those few weeks, at least a few of them absolutely tip over.

The moment they find the reader they don't even wait. No more slow approaches or mind games, they need the reader- now.

Nothing is going to change that. Nothing is going to get in the way of that. Not anymore. Not ever.

The reader wouldn't even get a chance to react or even make the smallest sound. All they know is that they were just suddenly minding their own buisness, albeit very paranoid and trying to be the most cautious they could, and then they saw black. By the time they wake up? They're back in their room in the manor. Maybe with a few... things missing if you catch my drift.

Since, now, well-

The Batfam will prioritize having the reader with them over any song or tune they'll ever hear them play.

The reader is what matters most to them, and they're never letting go. Never.

Even if it means taking away thing that'll limit them further. The Batfam is always there to help, so surely there isn't a problem, right? If anything, this just unlocks new bonding opportunities! Isn't that great! Are you happy?

Now the reader nees them more than ever, and they wouldn't have it any other way. :]

Regardless, when I do finally manage to get part 3 out and also part 4 (whenever that'll be-), maybe why I think that the reader in the "Not [ ]" series won't be able to fully accomplish this will be more clear! Since it is a little intense what happens, and will screw the reader over enough. Though it also may further encourage to escape somehow, we'll see!

Anyway, I hope this answered your questions!!

[potteresque-ire]

Happy 8th Debut Anniversary, Gg! Since so many of your fans have already expressed their well wishes so beautifully, I'm just going to post my celebratory dance here 😁😁😁. (What? it's not like I can replicate any other of your or Dd's dance performances!! THIS IS YOUR (AND DD'S) FAULT.) (For those who have not seen this "dark history" gem video from Gg's X-Nine days — it's a rehearsal clip for the X-Nine Variety Show Ep4, aired December 2016 — lyrics + why this performance is in my BJYX treasure chest under the cut!!)

Okay, why don't I start with what the song is about? Published in 1997 by the aboriginal Taiwanese singer Ayol Komod 張震嶽 (Chang Chen-yue), the song is about a teenager's first heart break.

It got very popular because the tune's catchy, and because it's funny! The teenager in question.... definitely isn't the at-the-cusp-of-adulthood-YA-romance-male-lead type. Ayol admitted later that he got the inspiration of the song's grammatically Japanese name, 愛的初體驗, also known as 愛之初體驗 or 愛の初體驗 (Love's First Experience; の being the Japanese character for possessive), from a porn magazine cover in a Japanese convenience store.

(Japanese porn, more commonly known as AV, was (is?) an obsession for many teenage boys in the region, as one can imagine). Now, on to the lyrics. This poor teenager, how did he tell his heartbreak story?

如果說你要離開我 請誠實點來告訴我 不要偷偷摸摸的走 像上次一樣等半年 If you're leaving me, please honestly tell me. Don't sneak your way out, make me wait half a year like last time. 如果說你真的要走 把我的相片還給我 在你身上也沒有用 我可以還給我媽媽 If you're really taking off, give me back my photo. It's not useful on you. I can return it to my mom. 什麼天長地久 只是隨便說說 你愛我那一點 你也說不出口 What is everlasting (love)? It's just talk. What do you love about me? You can't even say. 你認識了帥哥 就把我丟一旁 天氣熱的夏天 心像寒冷冬夜 So you meet a handsome guy, and dump me to the side. Hot is the summer, but my heart is cold as a winter's night. 想要買酒來澆憂愁 ���懶懶不想出去走 想要來一包長壽煙 發現我未滿十八歲 Want to buy alcohol to douse my sorrow, but feel lazy and don't want to go out. Want to buy a pack of Longlife cigarettes, and realize I'm not yet 18. 是不是我的十八歲 註定要為愛情流淚 是不是我的十八歲 註定要為愛情流淚 Is it that my 18 years old is fated to shed tears for love? Is it that my 18 years old is fated to shed tears for love?

The "give the photo back to my mom" is usually when I burst into chuckles ... and makes sure I wouldn't place this teenager, age-wise, anywhere remotely close to adulthood 😁. The lower-end teenage age was suggested in Ayol's original music video too (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4shwLyB7690), in which toys were abundant, including Barbie and Godzilla figures representing the "girlfriend" (who probably thought of the teenager as no more than a kid) and the handsome guy.

I'd place this poor kid in early high school at the oldest, perhaps? Meanwhile, this kid was imagining himself as this tragic male lead suffering a romance-novel-worthy heart break. Hence, the use of phrases and analogies common in those books (such as everlasting 天長地久; literally, "long (in length) as the skies and long (in time) as the earth") and, more importantly, calling up "mature" imageries associated with heart break, of alcohol and cigarettes. These details, ironically, simultaneously gave away just how young he was, most telling being that he was not yet 18 years old, the minimum legal age at the time to purchase both in Taiwan. This explains Gg (and PCY's) awesomely silly moves in the dance, which matched the lyrics both in meaning and in style. While the lyrics isn't included in the video I posted, here's the shot of them playing the teenager handing his photo back to his mom after a swipe of it on his pants (0:36):

... imagining himself getting drunk (~1:13):

... and smoking (1:19):

I've gone through the performances on Youtube of this song (yes, because research is absolutely necessarily on something like this), and this is the only one in which the singer(s) accurately capture(s) the ... 小學雞 Xiao Xue Ji ness of the teenage narrator (Turtles all remember Xiao Xue Ji "Primary School Chicken", right?). Other performances tend to turn the song into a showcase of singing prowess, as is common and, as some of us may be reminded of over these last few days, necessary in performances intended for mainland China's audience (here's an example by Coco Lee (RIP): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uFOCMgB7UoA). While singing prowess is much appreciated, sometimes, an audience like myself just wishes for something fun. Something goofy. For a good laugh, to shout along to (I'd never call whatever escapes my voice box "singing"), to do celebratory dances with. This video delivers for me 😊. With similar sentiments, I prefer this video over the actual performance in the X-Nine Variety Show (https://youtu.be/F1jXP2R-zy4?si=N1Hg1IKwp-dRc_vM 2:10:05), which is more prepped, less casual. Gg mentioned in the show that this song is retro (the glasses were a nod to that; Ayol's MV also had retro elements), and I find the faded colors of the rehearsal video more complementing to this retro feel. Its camerawork was also much better at capturing the fake manga fight that made up so much of the heart of Xiao Xue Ji ness (a special shoutout to whoever feigned the Qi Gong reaction, who did it better than Gg's teammates in the actual show).

Hmm. What else? Oh, maybe, since I'm feeling self-indulgent (I think I say the same thing in every post?), let me share a little something personal that cements the place this performance has in my BJYX treasure chest. Some of you may have noticed the "Longlife cigarettes" (長壽煙) in the lyrics. The very ... curious brand name aside (Longlife? For cigarettes?), this is yet another element in the song in which the teenage narrator tries to create an image of maturity ... and only made him sound young. You see, in Taiwan, cigarettes had used to be sold by the government only, until 1987 when the government opened its market for foreign imports. "Longlife", a high-end cigarette line, had made its debut in the late 1950s. So the brand name, to be fair, had been created before the health effects of cigarettes were known. Regardless, the government's monopoly on cigarette sales allowed Longlife to own the vast majority (more than 3/4) of the marketshare until the foreign brands took over in the late 1980s, after which its sales plummeted.

"Longlife cigarettes" is therefore extremely well known in Taiwan — hence, its inclusion in the song, and to the point that the Taiwanese government, in the early 2000s, got caught in a dilemma + controversy of whether to rebrand the famous cigarettes, now that they were known to work against a long life. (It didn't.)

"Longlife cigarettes" is therefore also retro, the majority of its smokers being of the parents', and grandparents' generation. That our teenage hero thought of Longlife cigarettes — he had likely picked up that image from those generations above him, the "old people" — further suggested his knowledge about cigarettes wasn't from his peers (who would likely be smoking the foreign brands), because he was too young... ... Young, like me! (Hey, I * was * young in 1997!). Longlife just happened to be my grandpa's favourite cigarettes as well. It was ... at the turn of the millenium, a year or two after the release of this song, I think? When my mom told me how she used to light my grandpa's favourite cigarettes for him as a child. Predictably, the brand name made me cackle. Soon, with the Xiao Xue Ji spirit strong in me, it captured my imagination enough that the next time I visited Taiwan, I took a photo with a box of Longlife cigarettes at the airport's duty-free shop before bothering with things like Immigration and Customs. In the same ... chickenly spirit, therefore, I've already reported to my mom that Gg is / has the intention of smoking my grandpa's favourite cigarettes ... my grandpa who passed away before I was born. She has always been amused at my curious enthusiasm over that curious brand name, and she liked that it formed a curious connection between me and my grandpa. She, of course, knows about Gg and Dd, and my curious interest in them. On this happy anniversary, therefore, I may not have a photo to return to my mom, but I have this video and I'm sending it to her. * Duck Dances *

Ah, maybe along with Gg's other performances this week. He's only a superstar now, right? Right ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️.

PS. Gg, seeing you so happy at the concert the other day makes me wonder: can it possibly mean there will soon be good news to share with fans? Just ... curious 😁.

[mychoombatheroomba]

Neon Lights and Neon Dreams

Delicate Weapon - Chapter 1

Leon x GN! Reader x Ada - Cyberpunk AU

A young lawman who just got his badge. A mysterious merc with a blackout past. A rocker with everything to prove. All of you, trying to survive in Night City. City of Dreams. A City where there are no happy endings. But damn, if you aren't going to fight for yours.

Cross posted on A03

Word Count: 9,066

CW: smut, threesome (m/gender neutral reader/f), oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, theft of personal information

18+ MDNI

Neon lights. Too many bodies. Voices crying out in rapturous joy, all drowned out in the wake of the speakers and the music they play. Your music. 

No drug, no braindance, no anything in the world could feel better than you standing on that neon-lined stage, singing so hard you thought you might shed your body and give yourself to the music itself. Probably a byproduct of the pure and utter adrenaline shooting through you, making every line of your songs seem like the most important words you’ve ever spoken in your life. Performing at Lizzie’s Bar (even if you’re just opening for the main band) is a game-changer. A motherfucking miracle.

One that you owe, at least in part, to the woman with dark eyes that stares at you from the other side of the room. One could be forgiven for thinking that she owned the place, the way she lounges in a corner booth, one perfect leg folded over the other as she nurses some glowing drink. She isn’t decked out in the bright colors and cheap threads of everyone else in the bar - her dress is a deep red, her lips painted to match. Her hair is dark and cut short, unadorned. No neon for her. She doesn’t call attention to herself because she never needs to. Ada will always be the most beautiful woman in the room, at least as far as you’re concerned. 

Even in the middle of a firefight, or when her brow is furrowed in the midst of a hack, she is beautiful. 

And right now, because she is the reason you’re on this stage, singing this song, she’s absolutely breathtaking. 

Payment for a job well-done hadn’t been enough for her. When Susie Q had zipped the eddies to you and Ada both, you’d been more than ready to leave and call it quits. Ada, though, had other plans. As per usual. 

You liked to think that, after years of running the edge, you’d built up some toughness. Some professional veneer. Hard to make a living as a merc if you didn’t look like you could get shit done, but even you had blushed a bit when Ada told the goddamn Queen of the Moxes that you were not only a merc but a musician? You were sure that you’d looked like your circuitry overheated. 

Still, one thing had led to another and when the opener band for tonight canceled . . . well, here you were, pouring your heart and soul into the microphone, shredding on your guitar. It’s not the music that usually plays at Lizzie’s, but you don’t give a shit because it’s yours and the people here seem to be enjoying it. More importantly, Ada is enjoying it. Maybe not for the music itself, but because it’s you that’s performing it.

She gives you a fox’s smile as your eyes meet hers, and you can tell from the way she’s watching you that she likes seeing you like this - unburdened and free. 

It’s the look she gives you when she’s in a mood, when you know that the night is going to end with you tangled in her bedsheets, and all that thought does is make you sing harder. You sway your body as you play, bobbing your head and hips to the tune you spent so many hours agonizing over. In that moment all those nights in a shitty apartment with your ‘ganic fingers aching against steel strings, it’s all worth it for this. 

Until you see Ada stand up from her corner booth, spare you one last glance, and walk off. You see her lips move and her optics glow orange like the fire you feel settling in your chest 

Phone call. 

She’s leaving your performance to take a phone call.  

You know Ada Wong well, you like to think. As well as any one person can know her, at least. Years spent as her partner in the streets and the sheets have given you wisdom into who she is, and you know that part of that person you’ve come to adore is a woman to whom biz comes first. Hell, most of the gigs that you’ve been on (the violent kind and now the musical kind as well) have been secured by her. She’s the reason you’re able to keep that shitty apartment, in a lot of ways. You don’t fault her for taking that call, even now. Even when you want her to be focused on you and only you. 

Still, you’re only human, despite the bits of chrome you’ve chipped over the years, and seeing Ada leave in the middle of your performance stings your painfully organic heart. 

Fortunately, you have an entire club full of other people whose attention you can earn, and with Ada gone . . . now you’re determined to milk that attention for all it’s worth. 

So you play on, your gaze sweeping the crowd. If you can’t have the eyes of the woman you want right now, then you’ll make damn sure you have everyone else’s. Your next song helps you with that - the last one of your little set that you’re playing. Your favorite. 

You get up close to the mic - an old fashioned one you brought yourself - and your lips nearly brush the woven metal as you begin the opening words. It’s a low, sensual thing, more suited to the BD bar you’re playing in, and as soon as your voice rasps out those first few lines, you earn a few whoops from the crowd. Adoration has always been your drug of choice, and you’re getting a damn good high from all this. It’s almost enough to fill the void Ada left in her wake. Almost. But you were never one to end in anything other than spectacular fashion. So, you make a point to let your eyes find everyone in the crowd who will look at you. Daring them to listen to you. To hear your siren song. To love you, even if it’s only until the last notes have left their eardrums rattling. 

Dozens of chromed out citizens of Night City, faces in the crowd bearing cyberware, lustful stares. Not everyone in Lizzie’s is watching you, but it’s enough. Those that are paying attention want you, you let yourself think as you go on, the song building. They want to be you or be with you. Narcissism has always been a facet of a good rocker, you’ve often thought, and for now, you indulge in it. 

How could you not, when the audience watches you like they wish they were slung across your hips instead of your guitar? 

When you hear them crying out as you begin to sing the song in earnest, picking up energy and tempo, your mesh and synth-leather outfit making you feel almost as powerful as the music does . . .

When you meet his gaze from across the bar, like something out of a cheap and cheesy braindance . . .

That gaze lingers, even as he tries to look away from you. To play it off like he wasn’t staring. 

But he was. 

There’s no escaping what you saw, and you make that clear to him as you lock your gaze onto him, letting him feel the heat of your stare. Because damn, he’s a nice person to stare at. He looks so out of place here, amidst all the Mox girls in their fishnets and the patrons who blend into the neon decor. You don’t glimpse any glowing tattoos or wild cybernetics on this man, oh no. Just a floppy haircut, a stylish blue and white edgerunner jacket, and a face that was, frankly, unfairly pretty. Not in the lethal way that Ada was beautiful; she could stop a heart with a look. This boy . . . he could melt one. 

He almost did just that as he sheepishly looked back at you, his gaze faltering under your stare. It was hard to tell under the bright pink and blue lights, but you swore he was blushing. 

Perfect.

If Ada wouldn’t pay attention . . .

You smile at the stranger as you sing, raising the hand that held your guitar pick and bringing it down hard across the strings of your instrument. The crowd cheers and that was reward enough, but the way that handsome man smiled at you? Oh, that was what made you give that last song your all. 

Lyric after lyric you sang into the mic, riff after riff you played on your guitar, and all the while, you keep your gaze on the shy young man at the bar. When he didn’t look away from you this time, you found yourself more than pleased. You wanted him to stare. You wanted him to ignore the men elbowing him at the bar and focus solely on you. And then . . . well, you decide you wanted a whole lot more than that. 

It was that man’s stare that keeps the performance alive as your set ends, as your voice tapers off, the music stopping. The high it all left in you stays as you take a bow and saunter off the stage, slinging your guitar onto your back. You intentionally let yourself get lost in the crowd, smiling as you see him crane his neck to try and catch a glimpse of you again. 

Cute. So fucking cute. 

You stalk through the bodies, effortlessly dodging those who wanted your attention. After all, you had your mind set on one man and one man only. 

As you approach, you can hear a conversation at the bar - mostly one sided, from the sounds of it. 

“Come on, Kennedy,” a young man said, his words slurred. “There’s only one reason to come to Lizzie’s, and it ain’t just to look.” You could see the person speaking as you moved through the crowd. Young, just like he sounded. Drunk, very clearly. Unremarkable, except for the fact that he was leaning hard into the one person in this bar you wanted to speak to. 

Kennedy, apparently.

And this Kennedy looked rather uncomfortable as the man with him and those around him at the bar all snickered. 

“Plenty of girls here,” another one piped in, clearly knowing each other, “or guys, whatever.” 

“I know-”

“Oh, but he ain’t looking at all of them. Choom’s only been looking in one place all night-” 

“Hey, don’t blame him. Been looking for that one in the catalog all night myself-” 

“And you won’t find me there,” you say, butting in as you break through the throng of bodies at last. The rowdy party assembled at the bar goes silent for a moment as you approach. You like that. Almost as much as you like how Kennedy’s expression turns all nervous when you fix your eyes on him. “Sorry. Not a Mox, just performing here for the night.” 

There were a few groans of disappointment that you took as a compliment. The catalog was a Lizzie’s Bar specialty - a list of the fine joytoys that worked here. You see a dancer you like, you find them in the catalog, then you find a braindance they recorded to buy. A safe enough practice, with the Mox watching. No actual touching involved, just the simulated memories of sex. Intimacy without actual intimacy. 

Not what you were here for, tonight. 

“Damn shame,” one of the young women accompanying Kennedy drawled. “You should consider it. You’d make a killing, you know.” 

“Thanks for the advice,” you say, letting the woman’s invasive stare roll off of you. Let her look. She wouldn’t be touching, simulated or otherwise. “Now,” you said, turning your attention towards the man you’d come here for, “mind if I steal you away from your friends?” you asked, your eyes smokey as they fixed themselves on the pretty man who’d been staring at you while you performed. 

Kennedy just looked at you like he wasn’t sure this was real. Like maybe he’d already been pulled into a braindance without him knowing. 

“To, uh . . . do what?” He was surprised. Even after you’d basically sang your song to him directly, he was surprised. 

So, you laughed, shaking your head and speaking like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “To dance.”

Kennedy just looks at you like you’ve offered him the moon. It’s a look that, frankly, makes you wish you had optics installed so you could take a picture. You can’t remember the last time someone looked that excited to dance with you. 

Unfortunately, Kennedy doesn’t seem to be the only one excited.

“Nah, come on,” the drunk woman slurs, moving closer to you. Too close. “You won’t have any fun with the boy scout. Dance with me . . .” her hand finds your waist. “Won’t even need to rent a BD with me, baby.”

“Hey,” Leon stands, then. Ready to intervene. Ready to pull his comrade off of you.

He doesn’t get the chance, though.

Not when, with bolts of blue, you reach up and rest a palm against her cybernetic arm . . . and then she’s all but shot back against her bar stool, her eyes wide and her hair sticking up with static at the ends. The group looks like they’re ready to intervene, come to their friend’s defense . . . but the Moxes at the bar, the ones who are very openly carrying iron and have cybernetics of their own, make them halt. Hot-headed as the group is, they know better than to piss off the gang who runs this place. 

You lower your hand, electricity sparking from the cybernetic palm on your dominant hand - one of the few bits of chrome you’ve chipped in recent years. You aren’t sure if the sparks reflecting in his eyes are the only reason Leon’s expression looks so bright as he looks at you.

“Um . . . that was . . . shocking,” he says with a boyish smile.

You snort because, “Damn, choom, that was bad.” Either way, you offer him your other, fully organic hand. “Think you owe me a dance to make up for a shitty joke, no?” 

His palm against yours is all the answer you need.  

The main band has started playing. Purples and blues washed over the two of you as you guided him, music pulsing from the speakers loud enough to rattle your bones. Ada, as much as you look for her, is still notably absent. You had to shout as you faced him at last with a smile. “You looked like you needed rescuing!” 

The corners of his mouth turned up and god damn his smile was more breathtaking than it had any right to be. “That obvious, huh?” 

“Almost as obvious as your staring.” 

Just like that, his smile is gone. Zipped away like a light turning off. He looks absolutely mortified. “I . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You laugh, shaking your head. Your hands find his easily, and you don’t miss how he goes still amidst the moving bodies around the two of you. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, leaning in so he can hear you better. “I was staring back, wasn’t I?” 

Disbelief. Then acceptance, and his smile is back. Boyish. Adorable. “Yeah, I guess you were.” He doesn’t pull his hands away. Good. 

“Kennedy, right?” 

“Leon,” he shakes his head. “Kennedy’s my last name.” 

Bold of him, giving out his full name in Night City. Then again, you supposed that anyone with a good scanner built into their optics could learn that much about him without him even saying. Lucky for him, you possess no such cyberware. Even if Ada keeps insisting that you should. No, you’re still mostly ‘ganic, despite your line of work. This man before you, though . . . he’s even more so. Not hardly any chrome at all, at least that you can see. Just that pretty face and a streak of color in his hair that you didn’t notice at a distance. Blue, you think. You give him your own name easily enough when he asks. You like the way he smiles when he says it back. 

“So . . . you, uh, wanted to dance?” he asks, a little more confident now. 

You just give him a dazzling grin, taking his hands and guiding them to your hips. “To start.” 

Turned out to be just that: the start. 

The main band finished their set and Ada hadn’t come back yet, so you pull Leon into a corner booth and paid for his drink (he has to pull out a physical ID, which is fucking hilarious to you), needing a break from dancing. The two of you had worked up a sweat, after all, but his hands had never wandered. Not once. Not even if you would have been alright if they had. No, he’d been nothing but respectful, and continued to be just that. Still, he didn’t shy away from you, either. Not now, as your side was pressed up against his in a corner booth, your smiles and conversation easily exchanged. 

“Do you play here often?” he asks, and you hope the question is borne of a desire to see you again. A hope that if he returns to Lizzie’s, you’ll be there. It also tells you that he’s not a regular. 

“Nah,” you shake your head. “First time, actually. I ran a gig for Susie Q, so she let me play the night as a bonus.” 

“Oh,” Leon nods. “But you’re not with the Moxes, you said?” 

“Nope.” 

There was some hesitation as he asks what kind of job it was you’d done for the gang. 

“Some Maelstrom boys had been stalking some of the dancers,” you answered simply, with a shrug. “They felt like something was off, but they didn’t want to risk any Moxes going onto Maelstrom turf to hunt them down, so I went instead. Gangoons won’t be following anyone anymore.” You and Ada had made sure of that. 

The answer seems to appease Leon, the knot in his brow smoothing out. Still, he seems to be puzzling something out in his mind. “So you’re . . . uh, a merc, then?” It’s like he doesn’t want to throw the label around. Like he’s afraid it’ll bother you. 

Definitely not a regular.  

“You could say that, yeah,” you nod. “Trying to make more of a living with this-” you nudge your guitar, leaning up against the booth seat at your side, “but songs don’t make you a ton of eddies until you go big.” 

“I think if you keep at it, you’ll get there.” He sounds so sure of that, and if he’s trying to win points in your book, it’s sure as hell working. “You’re pretty damn good.” 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, you know,” you grin, and Leon laughs. He’s, frankly, too damn sweet for a place like this. 

So, after a moment, you decide to voice the obvious.

“Hope you don’t mind me sayin’, but doesn’t seem like your scene, this place,” you observe, your fingers tracing the rim of the angular glass in your hand. You lift it to your lips but don’t drink the tequila in it. Not until you gesture to the crowd that still lingers at the bar - the one you stole Leon away from. “And your friends don’t seem like, well, friends.” 

Leon chuckles, shrugging to concede your point. “It’s not. And they aren’t. Well . . . no, not really.” It’s an admission delivered with a laugh and a shake of his head, his fringe falling a little over his eye. 

“So why come at all?” 

A tilt of his head. A look almost like a grimace. 

He was here for a graduation party, he tells you. His party, and the people with him. He hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, but they’d dragged him along anyway. Last night of freedom. 

“What college?” You ask, and he stalls for a moment. 

“Oh, uh, local in Watson. Nothing too fancy.”  

Wasn’t often you met a college educated individual, much less one who went to Lizzie’s. Watson, as a district, was known more for its gang violence and clubs than its colleges. In short, his answer didn’t sound true at all, to you. You blamed it on the alcohol. Or maybe he was lying. Either way, none of your business, you supposed, so you smiled and congratulated him. 

“What about you? Where’d you learn to play like that?” 

A favorite question of yours to answer, because of the pride it instilled in you. “My old man taught me the basics. Everything else, I learned myself.” No schooling, no fancy training. Just you and a hand-me-down six-string, the way of the rockerboys of old. 

Leon was just as thrilled to hear your answer as you were to give it, it seemed. 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously.”

“That’s . . . damn, I would have thought you’d studied somewhere formally.” 

That gets a laugh from you. “I don’t think there’s a single formal thing about me,” you declare, shaking your head and downing your tequila.

Leon laughs too. “That’s okay,” he reassures you. “I never really liked suits. The clothing or the people in them.” 

“Now that is an attitude I can get behind,” you agree, setting the glass down. When you look back up, you’re closer to him. Leaning a little more into his side. Ada still isn’t here. It’s been, what, half an hour? More? Wouldn’t be the first time she’s ditched you. Nor the first time you’ve found someone else to keep you entertained for the night. “So,” you go on, “what things do you like?”

Leon’s a glass of whiskey in, now. They call it liquid courage for a reason, even nowadays. You think you have that drink to thank for the way his eyes, for just a split second, flit down to your lips. “You’re definitely making your way onto that list.” 

Oh hell yes. 

“Just making my way onto it?” You ask, your mouth curving up into a smirk. “Damn. Here I thought I was doing well.” 

“You are,” Leon says, his tone just a little rushed. Cute. He leans in a little closer. “Trust me, you are.” 

Pride widens your smile, as it so often does. “Thought so.” 

“And . . . how am I doing?” He sounds hopeful. His eyes are on yours, searching. Questioning. His thigh tenses a little against yours, his hand resting on it and brushing your own. 

You know better than to waste time, so you slide your hand over his. “Oh, you’re doing pretty damn good, I’d say.” 

Leon’s eyes flash under the club’s lights. His Adam’s apple bobs. He’s so, so close now, but you want him to be closer. “Do you . . . do you have more songs than what you played tonight?” he asks, and you can tell it’s a leading question. 

You nod, your voice even. Steady. “Lots more.” 

The answer makes Leon smile wider. “I’d like to hear them.” 

“I don’t play for free,” you said, deciding to take a little lead yourself. “Not even for someone as cute as you.” 

There’s just a moment that hangs between the two of you, filled with pulsing music and flashing lights that all seems to fade. Leon doesn’t hesitate for any longer than that, though.  

“Would a date be good payment?” 

There it is. It’s not what you should be looking for, not when you’ve got a beautiful woman you’ll likely be going home with, but damn if it doesn’t make your heart warm. 

A date. 

“Hmmm,” you lean in, very nearly pressing your smile against his own. Your words are an echo of before. You know that’s not the only reason they make Leon grin. “To start.” 

He surprises you, then. You don’t think that he’s going to, but he leans in anyway. It’s soft. Not the kind of kiss you’re used to. It speaks of firsts and tentative steps, caution and hope. He pulls away almost as soon as he starts, just to ask “Is this okay?” 

And in no time at all you’re pressing him into the booth, mouths moving against each other. You swap the tastes of tequila and whiskey, and you find that as sweet as he is, he kisses desperately. There isn’t much finesse to it, but damn if he doesn’t make up for it with eagerness. He opens his mouth to you when you brush your tongue against his lips, and your fingers slide into soft hair and-

“Did you get bored while I was gone?” Her voice makes you smile, but it makes Leon freeze. 

“You left me all alone,” you said, not at all bothered as you peel your gaze away from the man beside you. A man who, you realize, looks like he would short-circ, if he had chrome on him. “Had to find some company.” 

You’re a little disappointed that Ada doesn’t look bothered. Then again, she so seldom does. Especially not when she likes whoever you’ve found to keep yourself occupied with. Whether she does like Leon or not . . . well, that remains to be seen. You know that the verdict is forming, though, as her optics flash blue, a telltale sign that she’s conducting a scan of the man sitting beside you. 

“You . . .” Leon stammers, looking between you and the woman now standing on the other end of the table. “Are you-”

“With me? That fact might have slipped our . . . friend’s mind.” 

“Just like you slipped away for most of the night,” you shoot back, giving Ada a knowing smile. 

You know she isn’t mad, not really, when her own mouth curls up just a touch. 

Was it shitty of you not to mention you were here with someone? Yes. But you know Ada doesn’t mind. That’s always been how the two of you operate. Free to roam where you please so long as you always come back home. Doesn’t mean you don’t try to make her jealous and vice versa, every so often. Doesn’t mean you don’t really, really like the man you were just kissing. 

You just have to hope that Leon will understand.

Fortunately, Ada speaks before you get the chance to, her tone smooth as synth leather. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, and her optics return to their normal dark hue. 

She looks completely unfazed, but Leon looks utterly taken aback. 

You can’t help but smile as she studies Leon’s face just a touch longer, because you can practically see her making a decision. Ada is always good at that - thinking on her feet. And you’re good at reading her. Enough so that you catch on immediately when her usual reserved demeanor shifts. She smiles at Leon, her eyes “Thanks for keeping my musician company, Leon.” Ah, so she’d found his name already. “Now, hope you don’t mind the interruption,” she said, sliding into the booth. Not on your side, though. Oh, no. No, instead, Ada took a seat beside Leon, resting her elbow on the table as she leaned over it. “And I hope you don’t think three is a crowd, either.” 

He doesn’t know how he got here. 

Well, he knows how he physically got here: a trip in a sleek red car to the appropriately named No-Tell Motel, two flights up and three doors down to a room that smelled like cigarettes and cheap perfume. Even with the whiskey in his system, that part of the journey is clear enough. The part where he ended up sandwiched between two of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen, though? The how of him ending up with your lips and Ada’s taking turns at his throat? 

Yeah, he has no fucking clue how that happened. All Leon knows as he grasps at both of you desperately is that he doesn’t want it to end. 

“Oh my god . . .” he manages, feeling you sucking at his throat, feeling Ada’s body pressed up against his back, her hands wandering his chest. 

You sure you’re alright with this? you’d asked before you all drove to the motel, smiling that dazzling smile of yours.

Leon, in truth, hadn’t been quite sure. Not because he didn’t want you both, but because no way in hell was this happening to a nobody like him. How did he catch your attention from the crowd? How did you actually seem to enjoy his shitty jokes and poor attempts at flirting? How did Ada appear and seem miraculously alright with him kissing you, her partner? It was all too good to be true. Some part of him knew that. Another part knew that he shouldn’t be doing this. Just as he and his fellows shouldn’t have gone to Lizzie’s in the first place.

Last night of freedom, they’d insisted. Last chance to go there and get your cherry popped.  

Because people like him didn’t go to places like Lizzie’s. Or, they shouldn’t. Not for the ethics of it, though that should have been a factor, maybe. Rather, because the Night City Police Department and gangs didn’t exactly mix well. Neither did badges and mercenaries. It was why he’d lied to you, even if he’d felt bad about it. It wasn’t a local college that he’d just graduated from. Wasn’t a diploma he’d gotten, but rather, a badge. Maybe you’d understand. Maybe he’d tell you, eventually, if this ended up being more than a one night stand. 

He hoped it would be, however foolish that thought was. It was foolish to have left the bar with you and Ada at all, in truth. But he trusted you. Dumb move, maybe, but he did. 

Maybe it was the genuine way you’d looked at him before you all got in the car. The way you’d given him an out. He should have taken it. Instead, he’d nodded. I’m sure.

Maybe he’d spoken too soon, because as your teeth graze his skin, he’s not quite sure he’s going to survive what’s to come. 

But what a way to go.

“Oh, I think he likes you,” Ada hums, amused, her breath hot against Leon’s ear as she pulls his jacket off his shoulders. “Don’t you?” she asks him, and he can only nod. 

Of course he likes you. 

Since he heard you sing the first few notes of your song, he’s nursed a suckerpunch crush on you. One that he’d been fully prepared to write off as puppy love and expect nothing to come of it. And now, here you were, kissing your way back up his throat. 

His thoughts aren’t enough for Ada, though. She bites at his earlobe, tugging on it before she speaks again. “Come on, handsome. We can’t hear you.”

She has a voice like smoke, and Leon can’t help but do as she asks. “Yes,” he nods again. “I like . . . both of you.” 

That earns him a laugh from you and Ada both. “I like you too,” you murmured, finding his lips once more. Leon doesn’t hesitate to kiss back, and Ada hums a laugh in his ear.  

“Then maybe you should show him how much you like him,” she suggests, and after Leon gives his approval, it’s all he can do not to moan as you sink to your knees in front of him. You put on a show before, at the bar, and you do the same thing now, looking up at him as you undo his belt, his pants . . . 

He’s aching by the time you free him, your lips pushing his shirt up so you can kiss at his belly and then down. Ada helps you without needing to be asked, tugging the shirt up. Leon catches up and lifts his arms, leaving himself mostly bare. No intensive cyberware chipped into his skin, no modifications besides the blue streak he’s dyed in his hair and a long-closed piercing hole in his ear. Just him. He barely has any time to be nervous about any of that before he feels your lips at the tip of him.

He might as well be a goner, then. 

Your tongue runs up him in a smooth motion, and Leon’s head falls backwards, nearly headbutting Ada behind him. “I’m so sorry!” he insists, nearly stopping to turn and make sure she isn’t hurt, but the woman keeps him in place, shaking her head. 

“It’s alright,” she reassures him. She brushes her lips against his cheek as you set to work, silent as she watches you take Leon in your mouth. She seems pleased, but Leon is a little too far gone to notice, his heart hammering as he struggles to figure out what to do with his hands. Should he grab your head? Reach back for Ada? He doesn’t know, and ends up just clenching his fists at his sides, watching in awe as your lips part and ease around him. 

“Fuck-” he chokes out, glad for Ada supporting him, her silky dress pressed up against his back as her hands trace up his chest. 

“Doesn’t it feel good?” she whispers to him, like she’s proud of your efforts.

“Oh god yeah,” he nods, knowing that she likes hearing his words. 

Your hands run up his thighs, one finding purchase on his ass, pulling him closer as you bob your head. 

He gets lost in watching you, letting you guide him into moving until he’s thrusting his hips in time with you. It’s too much, too good, and Leon can’t look away as your eyes lock on him. You may be the one on your knees, but he’s completely surrendered to you and Ada both. Ada, who, as Leon gasps, reaches up and grasps his chin, craning his head back towards her. Her eyes glow blue as she makes him look at her, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted as he pants. Ada locks eyes with him in that moment, the flickering blue glow like a neon lure. Leon doesn’t even get to lean in, though, before Ada kisses him, her lips trapping the sound of his moan. 

He’s trapped between the two of you, a dual endeavor that he can only get lost in. At last, he reaches up, one hand on the back of your head, the other winding through Ada’s dark hair. 

He won’t last. Not like this. Not as you take him all the way and his eyes nearly roll back into his head. Only then does he push you away, a little too hasty as he separates from Ada. “Wait-” he gasps, looking between the two of you. 

Concern flashes across your eyes, but Leon quickly assuages it. 

“I can’t be the only one feeling good,” he says, cracking a soft and breathless smile. He wouldn’t feel right about letting the two of you give him so much attention. 

By the way your eyes sparkle, he knows you appreciate the idea. “You got a point,” you grin, giving him a few last kisses before rising to your feet. “What do you have in mind?” 

Ah. 

That much, Leon hadn’t really considered. 

He looks between the two of you, suddenly dumbstruck once again. He’s never done this before. Well, not with two people. This is something straight out of a braindance that he’s only ever imagined experiencing for real. It’s too much and you’re both there waiting for him and-

“I have an idea,” Ada suggests, rescuing him from his confusion. 

So, a few moments later, she’s kissing you as she and Leon work together to rid you of your outfit. Not that there’s much to remove. Leon can’t help but take in the sight of you; each inch of skin bared is a gift in and of itself, one that he drinks in as you stand before him at last. He takes in every detail he can in the dim light. The lines of any cyberware on you, the little imperfections that make you, well, you. He’s honored and overwhelmed and that’s even before Ada guides his hands towards you. 

At the same time his skin touches yours, his heart pounds as Ada pulls you in for a bruising kiss. It’s a heated thing, one that makes clear the attraction between the two of you. Leon catches tongues tangling together, and the sight is enough he feels he might combust. 

It isn’t long, though, before Ada parts from you and guides you towards Leon instead. She steps aside and Leon lets you walk him back, your mouth on his and your tongue slipping out to dip between his lips. His knees hit the back of the bed and he falls all too willingly, his back meeting the shiny pink tiger-print sheets. It’s not the kind of place where he’d usually choose to be with someone, but tonight isn’t the kind of night he usually has, either. 

His inhibitions are long since gone as you crawl over him on the bed, your lips meeting his again, your hand moving between his legs. 

He’s so caught up in the moment, he barely registers Ada moving in behind you, one arm wrapping around you to play where you’ve yet to receive attention. You moan into Leon’s mouth, and he swears it’s almost as good to hear as your singing. Almost . 

Ada whispers something into your ear - Leon can’t hear quite what it is - and you nod. She kisses up the side of your neck before she leaves, allowing you to put all your attention on Leon. Allowing him to move his hand to take Ada’s place. You hum as he touches you, and fuck, there’s no better incentive to keep going than that. His hand, his fingers, his movements become more bold, his breath leaving him in desperate pants as he touches you. Trying to give you a fraction of what he’s been given so far. Your forehead presses against his as the kiss breaks, your eyes finding his in a way that’s far, far too intimate.

Then Ada returns, her fingers wet with something. Leon nearly asks where she got the lube from, but he imagines that a motel like this one has things prepared for all kinds of clandestine meetings. Or maybe Ada is just more prepared than he thought. 

Either way, she reaches down and Leon’s face goes bright red as he watches her slide a finger into you. Then two. His hand falters for a moment, and you laugh amidst your sighs. “Come on, Leon,” you say, your voice sparking with challenge. “Don’t stop now.” 

He does as you ask. How could he refuse? His hand and Ada’s work in harmony, and you close your eyes, shivering above him on the bed. You rock yourself back against Ada’s hand, kissing at Leon’s neck as you move. 

At least, you did until Ada guided you up and away, making you crane your neck to kiss her, just as she’d done with Leon. Again, Leon could only watch as the two of you kissed, hearing the panting breaths you exchanged. Seeing the way you clung to each other. His breath caught in his throat as he saw you unzip Ada’s dress, letting it fall to the floor, leaving her in a black lingerie set that was, frankly, too perfect. All of her is too perfect. She has to have had some realskinn installed over cyberware, because no one is that perfect. He almost felt like he’d intruded on a private moment until Ada pulled away from your lips and reached for Leon, perfectly manicured fingers tracing his jawline. “I think he wants you,” she said, her lips trailing along your jaw. 

She was telling true. Leon couldn’t help but stare at both of you, a sentiment that you seemed to share. “Only if I can have both of you,” you said, leaning into Ada, mouthing at her neck. 

The pale woman hummed, smiling and shaking her head. “Greedy of you.”

“Hey,” you raised a brow, pulling away with a grin, “it’s my night. First show at Lizzie’s and all that, I think I deserve a reward.” 

Ada made a face, one of soft amusement, but nodded. “Alright then. Lie down.” 

You grin, not needing to be told twice. You kiss her on the lips, then do as she says, beginning to settle yourself on the edge of the bed. Leon watches you as you move beside him, very nearly following before he looks up at Ada once more. The smile she wore only moments before is gone, something in her eyes that Leon cannot place. 

He worries for a moment. He doesn’t know her - hell, he barely knows you - but he feels concern anyway. Fear that this might be making her uncomfortable. “Ada,” he speaks up, breaking the magic of the moment much against his own will. “Are you sure this is okay?” 

Dark eyes turn towards him, and there’s just a moment of indecision. Conflict. He can’t blame her, he supposes. She’s letting a stranger sleep with her partner. Leon very nearly feels wrong for even being here - but Ada shakes her head anyway. “It’s more than okay, handsome,” she promises and he finds nothing in her voice to suggest otherwise. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before.” 

“Trust me,” you pipe up, sitting up a little on the bed, your hand over Leon’s more reassuring than it has any right to be, “if she wasn’t okay with you being here, she’d have kicked your ass to the curb back at the bar.” 

That much, Leon believes easily. Ada doesn’t seem like the type of woman to shy away from defending her wants. 

“Alright. I just . . . I’m sorry, I’ve never done anything like this before.” 

For the first time all night, Ada’s expression softens. Yours does too, and you speak first, squeezing his hand. “You’re doing great,” you reassure him. “Better than most, honestly.” He believes that well enough, too. “Don’t worry. You want to stop, we stop. Simple as that.” 

Ada watches carefully, but any worries she might have, Leon disarms when he shakes his head. “Don’t wanna stop,” he admits, bashful despite himself. “Not now.”

You smile, then, leaning up and sealing your lips to his. That’s really all he needs. 

So, with the dual reassurance, he lets himself be guided to the edge of the bed, positioned between your legs. Ada takes up a position at his back once more, whispering what you like in his ear. He can feel her skin against his, the lines of cyberware pressing against him, her hands over yours, guiding them to Leon’s hips. 

She lets him set his own pace, but you? Your legs wrap around his hips as your hands move up to his arms, all but dragging him towards you. Your eyes find Leon’s as he feels himself press in and oh good god he hadn’t been prepared for this. 

He whines and you groan and Ada soothes her hands over his back as he presses in and in and in until at last he can go no further. His hands rest on either side of you, clutching at those stupid motel covers, his lips parted once more. You lean up and kiss him, eager to start, it seems. 

Leon sure as hell isn’t going to disappoint you. 

So, he starts to move his hips, forgetting himself as he feels not only the warmth of you around him, but the warmth of Ada at his back. She doesn’t kiss his neck anymore, she just remains there, watching as Leon sets a slow, steady pace. 

When the kiss ends, though, you seem to want her more involved than that. 

“You look lonely over there,” you pant, reaching one hand towards her. 

Ada doesn’t seem to need convincing, either. 

Of all the things Leon has seen in his life, watching her strip the black panties off her hips and climb over you on the bed is one that he thinks will be the end of him. She takes up her position without much hesitation, framing your face between thigh-high stockings. She doesn’t even take off her heels, and as far as Leon is concerned, that only adds to the utter mind-shattering sight as she lowers herself. 

You don’t wait, either, your tongue reaching out to taste her as Leon thrusts into you, and that’s when it really hits him. 

He’s sharing a bed with two beautiful strangers he met at the bar. He’s in a scenario that should be impossible, honestly, but damn if you don’t feel good squeezing him and look even better as you reach up, wrapping an arm around Ada’s thigh to hold her down on your face. She closes her eyes for a moment, sighing as you work, and all Leon can do is stare. 

When those dark eyes open again, Leon doesn’t stop, and the two of them end up locked in a moment of equal exchange, a shared space where only the feeling of you seems to matter. 

Leon groans as your hips move against his, and his mind all but going blank. He picks up the pace, the room fading away. No cheap decorations, no stains best left uninvestigated. Nothing but the heat of you, the sound of your muffled moans and Ada’s panting breaths.

And through it all . . . god, he can’t look away from her. 

She holds his gaze too, like they’re both stuck there, caught immobilized. Like she’s deciding something, he realizes. 

Whatever it was, she eventually finds the answer to her internal question and reaches for him. “Touch me, handsome,” she commands, reaching for his hands and placing them deliberately on her bare hips. Letting him feel each undulation as she moves atop you. 

So he does as she asks yet again, his hands traveling up her body, feeling the smooth skin, the curves of muscle, the slope of her neck . . . he’s leaning in. He knows it. She makes another decision, and then she’s leaning in, too. He’s breathing heavy as he moves, taking one hand away from her to hold your hips. Faster and faster, him and Ada both. Your hand moves up to tease between Ada’s legs and she moans. Leon does the same, the hand at you hip moving between your legs. He whimpers when he feels himself getting close and god, he can’t help himself. 

Ada’s lips are soft against his, and whatever reservations she displays in that initial kiss quickly fade. She kisses him harder, a hand in his hair, her tongue in his mouth.

He hears you moan from between Ada’s legs. Feels his own body tensing. “I’m-” each word is a struggle because he can’t think. It’s been so long and he never, ever thought-

But it doesn’t matter what he thought, because in that moment, he’s with the two of you. The two of you, who both hold on to him as best you can as he cries out, his hands dropping to the mattress once more to steady himself as pleasure hotwires his whole body. It’s too much, his eyes squeezing shut as he shudders, weeks and months of tension washing away for just a moment as he finally just exists. Pleasure is all that matters for a few blissful seconds, and the fact that he’s sharing it with someone who has such soul in them - someone who is being shared with him, in turn. 

You follow Leon over the edge a moment later as he remembers he’s not alone in his bliss. His hand picks up the pace and you squeeze your legs around him, grinding into him until your release finds you. The moan you give is trapped between Ada’s thighs as the beautiful woman watches you finish. She sighs, still rocking against you. 

Through his momentary haze, thick as smog, Leon sees Ada try to rise from you, but your arms hold her in place. The woman above you makes a sound, as close to a whine as Leon thinks she can manage, and ultimately decides to stay in place. 

Leon doesn’t want to leave you to do all the work yourself, so he leans in. His hands reach up, a little nervous, trying to help. To feel her. He’s sure he made the right choice when her own hands come to rest over his, holding him against her skin. She lets him kiss her, and before long Leon’s lips capture her own moan as, at last, she shivers atop you.

She pants when it’s done, but Leon can see you still lapping at her, not stopping until, at last, Ada disentangles herself from you and sits off to the side of you. 

Now that he can finally see your face, Leon can only smile at how utterly pleased with yourself you look, your lips shiny and pulled into a wide smile. 

“Satisfied?” Ada asks, looking down at you with a genuine affection. 

You nod, and Leon sighs, glad, as you speak. “Ohhh yeah. Definitely.” You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand as you answer. Leon might as well be swooning as the other hand runs up and down his back. The smile you give him, one shared between him and Ada both, is one he never, ever wants to forget. 

You were stunning up on that stage, surrounded by lights. Now, though? You might be the most incredible thing he’s ever seen and he can barely look away. 

Ada is more reserved, nodding with a look Leon can’t quite read. “Good.” 

Then, with that, she moves to get off the bed.

“Mm, where do you think you’re going?” you ask, your hand stilling on Leon’s back.

Ada’s expression quickly brightens to a more sparkling look. “To the bathroom to get cleaned up. Then I have to go.” 

Leon frowns at that, but then, so do you. “No no no, you ain’t gettin’ out of this that easy-” 

“This was your night, remember?” Ada points out, her tone more adoring than Leon had heard so far. It almost makes him feel less nervous about Ada’s sudden and impending departure. “Take the night to play,” she says, standing from the bed, her hips swaying as she makes her way to the bathroom. “I appreciate being included, but your new friend looks like he wants more of your attention.” 

That’s all she says before the door slides open and closed, and she disappears behind it. 

Before Leon can even really think about it, you’re turning your attention back towards him. “You alright?” you ask, grinning like some cheshire cat. “Know this isn’t probably how you thought your night was gonna go-”

“It definitely wasn’t,” Leon admits, laughing a little breathlessly. “But I’m . . . I’m good. Really good.” 

Of course, there’s one concern on his mind, and he speaks more quietly then so she might not hear him. 

“She’s not mad, is she?” 

You catch his meaning immediately, looking up and over at the closed door. “Nah. Ada’s not one for staying the night,” you shrug. “Even when it’s just the two of us, she usually deltas before the sun’s up.” You’re casual enough about it that he believes you. At least enough not to feel too much concern. 

“You two are . . . thank you. For letting me . . .” he feels nervous even saying it, even though the deed is done. 

That fact makes you smile and laugh, your hand coming up to brush at the hair hanging over his eyes, toying with the streak of blue in it. “Thank you for joining. And for liking my music.” 

Leon hums as you guide him down to kiss you once more, his eyes closing and his mouth curving into a gentle smile. 

He wants to ask if he can hear more of that music. To see if you’ll play for him again, if he’ll see you and Ada again. The question gets caught in his throat, though. Stuck before it can be fully realized. He was lucky enough to even have a night like this, he wouldn’t dare to dream that there could be more. 

“I meant what I said, by the way,” you murmured to him a moment later, though, and it seems he doesn’t even have to dream at all. “I’d love to play you some more of my music sometime. Like every asshole with a guitar that you know.” 

Leon doesn’t even laugh at the joke because, frankly, he’s too high on hope to risk something that might fuck it all up. 

“I would love that.” 

You really do have an incredible smile. “Good.” 

“Was this payment enough to hear that music?” he asks.

You just shrug and he knows what you’re going to say even before you speak. 

“To start.” 

The light flickers over the sink. There’s spiderweb cracks in the glass. A fractured image staring back at her. 

Even cheap motel furnishings had something to say, seemed like.

No. This isn’t a mirror programmed to spit compliments or harsh truths. Just a broken piece of glass. It’s her conscience doing the talking, weighing on her heavy as she hears laughter in the motel room just outside that door. 

You like him. That much is obvious, and Ada can’t blame you. Leon is sweet. Handsome. A good soul - a damned rare thing in Night City. 

He would learn better soon. 

Best he learn at her hands, and not someone else’s. 

That’s what she tells herself as she steps back, an invisible neural switch activating. Her eyes glow blue once more as information comes to life, all spelled out for her eyes only. Then, pieces of her skin glow too. Her hips, her thighs, her chest and cheek . . . an artwork glowing against her realskinn, one inked unknowingly by two pairs of hands. 

She was only interested in one of those pairs, though. 

Ada disregarded your prints. Swiped the ID away. It was the new touch that she needed. The one that belonged to a kind young man who’d merely been enamored with you. A man with a newly earned badge tied to his name - one that Ada had discovered in the milliseconds it took to complete a facial scan.

The rest had been harder to obtain. 

Facial scan.

Retinal scan.

Fingerprints.

Biometric profile construction complete: Leon S. Kennedy.

A loading bar in her heads-up display filled in, the fingerprints highlighted on her skin fading. Even as she turned the water on, washing herself off, cleaning up her makeup and smoothing down her hair, she didn’t feel clean. 

Never really did, in Night City. 

Still . . . a girl had to make a living. 

Next Chapter (Coming soon!)

Chapter Index

[venomous-ragno]

One day whilst scrolling though Tumblr I saw a post (that I'd love to link but can't seem to find) by the lovely @konigdaddy and I was never the same after.

So I wrote it.

I take requests btw;)

Tags: König x you, female bodied reader, nsfw, you sit on his face and he absolutely devours you

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, face sitting, obvs nsfw

Masterlist

Unhinged. Wild. Relentless.

That's how you've come to know him, the king of the field; he whose presence alone commands respect. Recruits stiffen when he passes, shut their mouths and one would think they forgot to breathe when he levels them with those piercing blues of his - his achievements are well known and his silence speaks volumes.

Perhaps that's why you couldn't keep your eyes off him.

That lingering thought you tried to push back, only for it to return and fester in your mind like an open wound; you wanted to know more, needed to know more.

He knew.

He always knew.

Call it anxiety, call it a sixth sense, König never failed to recognise the warmth in his neck from your gaze stuck to it. He never mentioned it though. You expected him to call you out on it, ask you what the hell your problem was, that you should focus on something else, but it never came. He let you watch him. Eyes met, your gaze wavered and yet, when you looked back, his didn’t.

It's safe to say that he had you. Drawn like a moth to the flame, always following that light as if it were calling for you; took some months until you got to feel its warmth though.

A coincidence, really. You passed by the workshop after work and listened in on the mechanics idly chattering away. Their typical, unfiltered banter never failed to get a chuckle out of you, and as you warmed up to their rough but well meaning ways, a clapback or two as well.

It's safe to say you won them over in the short time you'd been a member of KorTac - but they made no such distinction as they waved you over, spoke of an outing with the squad, that you had no business missing out on.

You laughed. Of course you'd be there.

Alcohol, card games and drunken shenanigans. Drunk men who got to relax for once, drown their sorrows in terribly off tune pop songs as they accused each other of cheating only to forget all about it over some shots.

The booze would have your head swim. Surely. That knot in your abdomen a telltale sign of one glass too many. You'd stumble back to your dorm, plop down on your hard mattress and doze off, perhaps hug the toilet the mornibg after.

So how the hell did you end up like this?

Clothes lay scattered across the floor. A dorm room indeed, but not yours. Head dizzy and body hot, but not from any drink you may have had. And that knot in your abdomen, getting more and more intense the longer those thick arms wrapped around your thighs-

It's safe to say that your night should not have ended like this.

"Sit on my face."

Your breath hitches.

"What?"

König's relaxed eyes meet your wide ones. The empty shot glass rolls between his fingers.

"I said what I said."

"You're drunk", you reply. No doubt that the sheer, utter bewilderment in your tone didn't go past him.

"Strange", he leans back, throws his arm over the chairs lean. "I don't feel drunk."

You swallow hard. Throat dry and fingers clenching the glass in your hand, you push your luck, fuelled by the alcohol warming your cheeks.

"Then... What do you feel?"

You regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. König smirks, tilts his head. You look in his eyes and bite your lip; that dark gleam you always thought to be your imagination... Is anything but.

König. One of KorTac's best and most wanted. The one you'd stolen glances at, thoughts wandering 'till your thighs rubbed against one another.

That very same man now breathed against your skin, decorated with hickeys and marks the shape of this teeth. Fingers dug into your thighs whenever your attention drifted off; he wanted you here, focus on him and nothing else. He hummed at your every whimper. Cupped your jaw to have your eyes meet his as he whispered to your lips:

"Let me hear you."

How could you not? He had you in his palm, melting between his fingers. You shivered at his very touch and he smirked a way that had you squirm. At this point you weren't even sure how long he'd been feasting on you. His tongue never left your skin, pushing deeper into you, circling, nibbling. König revered your taste, touch and feel. If you thought him to be drunk at the bar then he was nothing short of intoxicated now.

Your voice is breathless as you call out to him.

"Mhm", he mumbles.

His grip on you didn't ease even as your hips quivered at his tongue. He was relentless. Attacking your swollen clit time and time again, pressing to your hot lips, your core.

Your mouth goes dry and you still moan his name.

König doesn't let up. He licks and sucks and your body grows hotter by the second, hands desperately clenching the bedsheets, his hair, anything to help you stay grounded. Electric tingles, waves, then bolts, he keeps you flush to him, groaning with heavy breaths and you almost sob as the tension grows and grows and-

Nothing.

It takes your racing mind to catch on. Heart still beating in an unforgiving rythm, you whine at the ache, the lack of climax right about to hit you in all its might.

His low chuckle brings you back.

"Not yet." He licks his lips. "The night's still young, mäuschen."

[bettysupremacy]

OH EM GEE what about sirius who absolutely loves rock music with a gf WHO LOVES TAYLOR SWIFT ans she’d be doing his makeup or something making him look like a rocker while listening to lover OR HE COMES HOME SO CONFUSED TO WHY SHES CRYING AND ITS JUST LIKE FOKLORE OR SOMETHING PLS 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

THIS IS AN ADORBS IDEA, I actually cry to folklore a lot so this request was a little too close to home. Thank you for it!! ily

“I’m home!” Sirius yells into the dark home, dropping his keys to the counter. “Lovely!”

It’s a late night. Later than most, and he feels terribly guilty for it. Held up at the studio, he comes quick with an apology. He hates getting home late, you know this. They needed re-records, they made us restart 50 times, my darling.

He cracks the bedroom door open, slowly and quietly, wary that you may be pulled under sleep already. But you’re awake. And sad.

You lay, surrounded by blankets and pillows, tears in your pretty eyes. They run down blotchy cheeks, staining the tender skin there. Your chest aches with the lyrics, rising in staggered hiccups.

“Oh, my darling,” he rushes to the bed, his bag dropping to the floor messily. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, sitting up abashed. “S’nothing.”

“I’ve walked in on you crying like you’ve seen a murder and it’s nothing?” His hands come to your face, his eyes searching for your own. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

You pause, the emotions catching up again.

“Siri.” You sob, and he fears the worst. He takes you into his arms, dread rampant through his mind.

“I’m here.” He leaves a lingering kiss to your hair.

“Would you love me if I could never give you peace?”

He reels back, your arms in his rough hands as he searches for your face. “What?”

“Would you love me if I could never give you peace?”

“What kind of question is that?” He appalls. “Of course I would, you are my peace, dovey. What’s upsetting you? You haven’t been reading those online articles again have you?”

You hiccup. “This song is just so sad.”

“Oh, oh, darling I thought you’d been hurt.” He breathes, relieved. “No family members are dead? My fans are behaving normal?”

You nod, letting him take you into his arms again.

“His faithless loves the only hoax she believes in.” Your eyes water again, the hiccups re-starting.

“Don’t do that to yourself.”

His hand works over your leg, patient with the tears that don’t seem to stop. His chest throbs with something close to this is the most adorable thing I’ve ever walked in on.

“It’s so sad.”

‘It’s just a song’ Is on the tip of his tongue, but he decided against it. He knows music, better than most. He knows the emotions it can rip from you. “Maybe we shouldn’t listen to it in a dark room, hmm?”

You sniff, letting him bring his sleeve over his thumb to wipe at the tears you blink. “Maybe.”

“I don’t like to see my girl like this.” His head shakes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, me and Taylor are about to have some words.”

You laugh, watery, watching him revel in the sweetness of it. His eyes crinkle in love.

You tune into the song playing softly in the background again.

“No other sadness in the world would do, Siri.”

“I’m gonna throw a pillow at your head, Alexa,” He snaps at your echo dot. “Stop.”

You laugh, falling back into the wet pillows. “Don’t silence her.”

He lays on top of you. “She’s depressing me.” He pauses, before adding. “I’m having Lily email her.”

“Stop.” You giggle.

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Farwell Wonderlust (The Amazing Devil)

I promise you im not broken, I promise you there's more/More to come, more to reach more, more to hurl at the door/Goodbye to all my darkness, there's nothing here but light/Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night/This here is not makeup, it's a porcelain tomb/And this here is not singing, I'm just screaming in tune

This here is not makeup, it's a porcelain tomb/And this here is not singing, I'm just screaming in tune

I'm the face that stares back when the screen goes to black/When your mom says you look healthy/But you know she means you got fat/I'm the tales that the guests will applaud and believe/I'm the child that you just didn't have time to conceive

"You may have taken me, and made me, but I am more than what you think, and I will /not/ let you ruin me."

"I have literally fucked up my throat by yelling this song really loudly while driving. Like, my voice was weird for multiple days afterwards. I can't put it into words but everyone I've ever heard mention the amazing devil has been so fucked up by this song."

"Ok I KNOW that this isn't going to win because no one knows the song. therefore the only mark i can leave is this rant ok. So I apologise in advance but: but did you read that absolute CALLOUT section of the lyrics i put up there?? that is only a SECTION ok. this song is so fucking weird its like someone is reaching into your soul strings and pulling on tangling them making u Feel Things like WOW. its such a. callout isnt the rigjt word for it. it just fucks one up ok. like honestly just pls pls i beg of u listen to the song or even just read the entire lyrics its so. you'll get what I mean."

"It’s about breaking under the weight of expectations and showing the world yourself in all of your imperfect, ugly, and raw glory."

Heartache (Undertale)

"This is the song where you are forced to fight Toriel, who has basically been treating you like her child since you met her."

Farewell Wanderlust submitted by @Gimme_DA_PIEEEE + @ceaseless-rambler + @xx0yeet-everything0xx + others

[wonyrs]

rainbird

enha maknaes x fmr gnr fluff, est. relationship warnings cursing, food wc 711 + library #

‘ school life with the enha maknaes! headcanon style

kim sunoo

somehow u two manage to make the uniforms a tad cuter than anyone else

never getting ur work done in any class fs (but u still pass? its the dawg in u) u two sit in the back of the room and have a whole station just for cute instagram posts

"aww babe u look so pretty today" "really? i should say that to u, love :3" cue the deadpanning from anyone in a mile radius of u

LITERAL GODS OF PHYSICAL TOUCH AND EVERYONE HATES IT. on the way to lunch? holding hands. dodgeball in pe? holding on to each other like ur lives depend on it. the weather a little chilly? "let me warm u up schnookums :>"

half of ur friendgroup think of u two as an ideal couple while the other half is done w ur shit (dw they love u)

when exams are coming up, u two hang out at each others houses to help each other with whatever u guys are struggling with

he has full faith in u passing the exams but still offers to calm u down by singing a song, giving u a massage, ordering ur favourite takeout, or anything that eases ur nerves :(

"don't be scared, y/n. ure the smartest girl i know, so theres absolutely zero chances of u failing this test, believe me!"

yang jungwon

ur boyfriend being a former class president and u being the current class president is either a blessing or karma for something u did in ur past life

"oh my gosh there's so many papers to send off, wonnie can you help me?" "nope, i stopped doing this type of work 3 years ago" before getting up and carrying all the stacks himself

when u mess up during a speech, be prepared for endless teasing while being reassured that u still deserve a spot in the council (thank u for fake tears and ur bf's soft heart)

if u have to stay after school to work on council duties, jungwon stays behind w u and uses the excuse that he needs help on his hw to be by ur side

he still takes the chance to lovingly bully ur ass

"u know, if u just refused the offer of being class prez we could be in my room rn watching the mlb movie" "babe be quiet before i actually lose it and start crying"

however, the longer he's with u, the more concerned he gets when he realizes that u leave school (alone) around 7 pm when the sky is getting dark and all sorts of creeps are walking around

he knows ure capable of protecting urself but his 'spiderman' bf instincts tell him to walk u home everyday no matter how late it is and tune out the fact that he'll get spanked by his mama for returning so late at night

"u forgot something, love. i need 10 kisses minimum for walking u this late, uberjungwon needs his payment!"

nishimura riki

fully believing in the 'hates almost everyone at school but has a soft spot for u' + the rest of enha trope for u two

yes he acts nonchalant to anyone's attempts at flirting w him but the moment u compliment his skills in soccer bro startings twirling his hair and encourages u to say more

"ki u did so good! ure like blue lock fr" "really? i did so good guarding right? and making that goal? and dribbling? right?" yappa yappa yapping /j

during free period, he drags u to the court and has u play a 1v1 with him

uses the excuse of 'fixing ur form' to get as close to u as possible and hes not ashamed of it

"yeah so u just position ur arm right here and-" "ok but can u loosen ur grip on my hips please, focus on the training babe " "shhhh"

OMFG i imagine him asking u out after winning a really important game with enha cheering him on at the back (big bros)

it'll be when u congratulate the team outside of the locker rooms when he just grabs u by the shoulders and professes a whole shakespeare typa love confession

his fangirls drop down sobbing the next day when u two walk in holding hands and he's carrying ur bag for u with the dopiest smile on his face

@ wonyrs 2023

note me when i dissappear for a month after my first post, come back with the trashiest post ever and a new layout LESGOOO anyways i hope u guys enjoy this and REMEMBER my requests are open so feel free to ask anything :>

[yayll]

IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE IT!!! Opposites attract are literally my favorite trope ever, i love bad boy unhinged rockstar Dazai and him developing a crush on the cute, considered the industry sweetheart who dresses in frills and bows idol/pop star Reader, and considering that idols change their outfits to support the themes of songs/tours i can imagine they get a matching outfit set one day and its rock style…..idol reader dressed in black and other dark colors, rips in their clothes and some skin showing……Rockstar!Dazai is biting the bars of his encloser-TeenZai anon

so sorry this is so late angel.... also i may have gotten a bit carried away w this concept................ i love u teenzai anon this one's for u and all the rockstar!dazai adorers out there (and for me bc i'm INSANE for this whole thing put me downnn) basically idol reader taking up dazai's rocker aesthetic for the concept/theme of the tour is literally the DEATH of him. and not in the way he's always wishing for >:3

~ a little something about Rockstar!Dazai and Popstar!Reader finding a middle ground ~

You show up to soundcheck one morning completely in tune with the plan for the show but thinking nothing of it, because you're sweet and cool and in perfect flow! Something Dazai simply isn't and it makes him practically gawk as you saunter past him into the dressing room. a few moments later you walk out in a matching outfit that compliments the one he's wearing and it's all over. Completely fucking done. The man practically goes non-verbal for a few moments when he suddenly calls for his assistant to fetch him his pack of cigarettes so he can dash outside to the alley of the venue to get himself together. The nerve of you to look absolutely ravishing in a completely different aesthetic... So hot. So annoying.

Of course you follow behind him, curious and also hoping he's genuinely okay (you're not just a sweetheart for show and he hates that!) You find him leaning against the wall, his lighter failing to give him the flame he needs for his sweet relaxation. All he hears is soft giggling and light footsteps.

"I'll light it."

You take the lighter from him and flawlessly flicker it alive while he just watches you with the stick between his lips, amazed and slightly aroused. He can't help but notice the way his nerves seem to immediately settle with you nearby and it both comforts and concerns him. Dazai looks down at your face as you lean forward with the lighter, a tiny moment of softness appearing in his eyes as he watches you light the end of his cigarette, the flame from the lighter making his Hazelnut eyes light up slightly. He quickly takes in a long and deep drag, his shoulders visibly immediately relaxing once the smoke hits his lungs, and his cool guy demeanor is back on. You chime in, poking your head back into his line of sight.

"Better?"

You smile at him sweetly, always keeping things cordial.

"Much."

He stares at you under his messy bangs, his narrowed eyes softening by the second as his lips curl upward. You're just too true.

You simply hum, standing around idly though not in the way that claims awkwardness, but rather the comfortable kind of silence neither of them get to experience often in this fast paced industry. You look down at your black platform leather boots, a sheer contrast from who you usually present as and it somehow feels liberating. You breathe out, matching his coolness.

"Thought so."

He almost snorts at that, and turns back to look over the features of your angelic face. no amount of black you wear could overshadow the glimmer that follows you everywhere you go. You're a lucky star that's gone as quick as it comes. One day he'll make a wish on you.

"You know me so well."

You huff into a soft laugh that lingers and eventually dies in your throat when you realize the fluttering in your chest is only growing. Yikes. You mutter, low and careful.

"I just... Didn't want you to have a bad night tonight, I guess. With the concert and the album dropping and all... I hope you don't mind I'm sort of dressed like you, heh."

You end it with a shrug as you look ahead at the clouds in the sky and for the first time in a while you feel a tinge of nerves. you, the industry's sweetheart can still feel that after your major lasting success? shocking.

He huffs slightly in response, leaning his back against the wall and tilting his head up, staring up at the sky as he mutters back.

"It's not like I ever really have a totally good time on nights like this, anyway."

You flash your attention at him, tilting your head. In all your years of the supposed 'clashing' between you, you have never heard him speak this way.

"Nights 'like this'?"

He glances back over to you, bringing the cigarette back to his lips for another quick drag before responding, watching you stare at him intently.

"Ahh, performing. All the people. The fans being all over me. The media. All of it, all the time. It's exhausting, actually. I know I'm super hot and talented, but the performance doesn't always end when I get off that stage."

This causes you to lean in just a tad and murmur, curiously.

"... So why do it? All of this?"

And just when he's about to truly spill it all, talk about his never ending battle with his mortality and his career and the way you dominate every single topic in his mind, he simply just looks at you and blows cigarette smoke in your face with that signature smirk of his you always pretend to find so irritating.

"Sometimes it feels real and constant. It's the only thing I can count on... Other than seeing your silly little imitation of me on stage. Hate the mesh, by the way."

You simply stare, taken aback by his oddly sincere and blunt answer. You mutter under your breath as you bite your freshly manicured nails.

"...Yeah?"

Dazai hesitates a moment, his dark eyes glancing away from you as he takes another drag from the cigarette, a moment of vulnerability flickering through his expression. He takes another moment before responding, his voice gruff and a little shaky.

"Yeah..."

He continues to stare off to the side for a long moment, a hint of something like longing and painful restraint crossing his expression as he seems to internally struggle with something. Dazai's expression hardens a little as he finally looks back at you, his shoulders visibly tense as he puffs on the cigarette again, blowing out a long stream of smoke as he tries to push down his own feelings.

But you can tell, you can always tell. Media training, baby.

After what feels like an eternity, you reach out for his cigarette and take it in between your lips, taking a long drag of it yourself. You puff out smoke in a far less cool way than he made it seem, feigning nonchalance as if this isn't the first time you've ever even TRIED one of these damn things.

"Minty..."

He glances at you as you take the cigarette and take a drag yourself, a small but subtle flicker of curiosity in his expression. He watches you exhale and blow out the stream of smoke, before responding in a sardonic voice.

"Since when do you smoke, little miss bubblegum pop?"

You choke out a laugh, waving away the smoke to regain your breath. You smile faintly with a shrug as you hand it back to him after taking one more drag for good measure.

"I don't."

He raises his eyebrows slightly, giving you a look of mischief.

"Then why are you puffing on my cigarette, hm? Your manager would have a stroke if they saw you like this, you know. I'd be marked as a 'bad influence'~"

You shrug again and hum with all the bravery in the world your little heart can muster.

"...Tastes like you, is all."

He just continues to stare at you for a moment, processing your answer. Dazai's expression still remains as unreadable and emotionless as ever, but his eyes flicker for a moment, something indiscernible flashing through them for a fleeting second. It's the internal panic from how badly he wants to kiss you right here and now. He seems to hesitate for a moment before responding with a small smirk forming on his face and sounding wayyy too eager.

"...Is that a good thing?"

You exhale, the smoke leaving your nostrils as you murmur softly, eyes locked on his.

"...Yeah. It's a real and constant thing."

His breath hitches, shoulders visibly reacting by scrunching up as you give your answer. He doesn't say anything, but there's a flicker of something like vulnerability in his expression, a hint of softness around his eyes that betrays his usual cool and careless exterior. He remains silent for a moment longer before responding, his voice a low murmur.

"Yeah... Real."

And before you know it, you simply decide to say fuck it! And do something you'd never have the guts to do before Dazai and his ridiculous self entered your life. You lean in slowly, inching closer and closer to his lips. You're within an inch of kissing him when you whisper.

"... For good luck tonight, Osamu."

Dazai watches you in silence as you lean forward towards him, his expression going from unreadable to filled with pure unfiltered need. As you pause just inches away from his mouth, his eyes flicker once more, his dark irises shifting down to your lips for a second before returning to your eyes. For a moment he doesn't move, just staring down at you with an almost pathetically vulnerable expression on his face. You know better than to say his name like that. Then, in a low voice, he whispers back.

"... Shut up."

He leans down suddenly, pressing his lips against yours. Dazai's lips press against yours in a firm, almost desperate kiss. One of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, while the other hand moves up to cradle the back of your head, threading his fingers through your purposefully messy yet somehow still soft hair. The kiss is passionate and intense, you can't even fathom how it's all gone down like this but you don't care.

Dazai thinks about how you taste delicious, sinful, and more importantly: Real.

For a few seconds, he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, before he finally breaks away, the both of you gasping for breath as he speaks in a quiet and hoarse voice.

"I can't think straight around you like this you silly little thing."

You smile, suddenly back to being bashful and absolutely ready for whatever happens tonight. You both look stunning and it's not just the outfits that speak on it. It's the genuine spark between you two, the collaboration everyone wanted but you NEEDED.

Just when you're about to reply to his snarky comment, your managers bust through the door to the alley and frantically fuss over you both as they yap about how late you are to soundcheck and the pre-show meet and greet. And why do you smell like cigarettes?!

Dazai turns up the charm and bad boy persona while you play up the apologetic and totally easygoing idol who's more than happy to make up for the lost time with the fans! And now in a different color scheme than they're used to!

Before you and Dazai are whisked away into opposite ends to finish getting ready, he leans into the shell of your ear, barely grazing it with his lips as he whispers playfully.

"You drive me crazy. See you on stage, and then maybe backstage~"

You swear you can feel every nerve in your body twitch when he smugly prances away from you after saying that.

... And of course the concert is a total jam, everyone's raving about the new music + matching outfits you're both sporting along with the undeniable chemistry you're cooking up. It's in the way you smile at each other in between songs, or when Dazai's singing a particularly flirty lyric he gazes at you instead of the screaming fans in the crowd. You dance and he watches, just like everybody else always does when you're in the room. Spellbound.

He may be wishing on you a little earlier than he thought he would be, but you don't seem to mind one bit, his lucky star. ⋆｡°✩

[louloulemons-posts]

weirdly specific I know but what about fem!goth!reader who's been best friends with eddie for years. he thinks he knows everything about her until one day he climbs through her window to hang (bc of course he does, he can't use a door like a normal person, even if her parents aren't home, where's the fun in that?) and finds her rocking out to taylor swift and it turns out shes a massive closet swiftie.

Weird But F-ing Beautiful

Modern!Eddie X Fem!Gothic!Reader

Summary : You were a metal head with a secret, you love Taylor Swift.

Word Count : 1k

(How I imagine Reader would defend Taylor)

Warnings : not proofread, 3am writing (again-pls someone save my sleep schedule), so many taylor references!, swears, petnames, cuteness, eddie and reader are just adorable honestly

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You and Eddie had known each other for years now, you’d say he was your best friend in the whole world.

The pair of you had a lot in common, you were both unusual and unique people. You bonded over that, along with your love of bands like Metallica and Black Sabbath.

You’d always liked darker things, loving halloween whilst most liked christmas. Horror movies and true crime documentaries brought you comfort.

Complaining about summer as your dark wardrobe made the heat cling to you, it was just the person you were. But you had a secret, one that even Eddie didn’t know of.

You absolutely loved Taylor Swift. You’d found yourself bopping along to one of her songs that was on the radio and were hooked, owing all of her albums and having them on regularly.

Enter Sandman to All of the Girls you Loved Before was quite the contrast, but you loved it.Walking down the halls to your locker, Lover was playing in your ears.

People who passed you wouldn’t think that, ripped tights, a skirt that went just above your knees, dark top with long flowing sleeves - bat wings Eddie liked to call them.

Fingers and neck decorated in mismatching jewels, huge boots, a corset around your waist and eye liner that took longer than you’d care to admit. Love Story didn’t really look like a song that’d be your favourite.

Arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you softly. Pulling out an earbud you spoke, “Edward.”

“Hello Sweetheart.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Milkshakes?”

“You paying?”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sipping on your strawberry shake you chuckled at Eddie, leaning over the table you wiped whipped cream off his nose. “Thank you,” he blushed.

“Don’t mention it Rockstar.”

“Sooo,” he said.

“Hm?”

“I may or may not have gotten two tickets to see one of the best bands of all time, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with?”

“Oh my god One Direction have reunited?” You laughed, “Shut up. Will you come with me?”

“I mean I guess I could free up some time for you,” you smirked, taking another sip of your shake.

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Thank you for the milkshake.”

“Anytime Sweetheart, I’ll text you the details of the concert and stuff.”

“Please do. I’ll see you later,” Leaning over and kissing his cheek, cherry red stain being left on his skin.

Heading up to your room, neither of your parents were home yet. Throwing your bag down you put a record on, Taylor.

Humming to yourself as you undid your boots, you decided to start on some homework. Turning up the music and tuning everything out for a while.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Stood in front of your mirror, you began wiping your makeup from your face, eventually singing along. “I remember when we broke up,” you sang softly, humming mainly.

Sliding off your rings and necklaces, your hair being pulled out of your face, comfortable for the night. God how did this woman make these songs so catchy? What was in them?

You couldn’t help yourself, “I used to think we were forever ever …” You put your books away, cleaning your desk, “We are never ever ever getting back together!”

Dancing around your room, you laughed as you spun around your room. These songs just made you so happy, “We are never ever ever ever getting back together!”

“Okay I get the message,” a voice laughed.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” you screamed.

“Wow chill it’s me.” Eddie.

Storming over to your record player you turned it down, Stay Stay Stay playing quietly in the background. “What the fuck are you doing here? How’d you get in?” you shouted.

“Window. Came to bring this back, wasn’t expecting a concert.”

“Oh fuck off Edward,” you huffed, taking a ring out of his hand. Turning away from him and putting it with your others.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I um didn’t know you liked this music.”

“Well I do, got an issue?”

“No. Just … do you actually like metal or was that just umm …”

“I like both okay? Sometimes I just want to feel like a happy, silly teenage girl. Her music helps me do that, or if I need to cry, or fall in love or anything really. I love metal, I didn’t lie!”

“Okay. I believe you. She’s cool.”

“You think?”

“Well you like her, so she must be.”

“Shut up,” you smiled.

“I’m serious. Teach me the way of Taylor Swift,” he grinned, dropping on your bed.

“Well thats 10 albums, and then there’s Taylor’s versions.”

“God you’re a proper little nerd.”

“Says the one who loves D&D,” you smacked him lightly.

“I’m not saying she’s bad! I like that one umm … Enchanted?”

“Yes! It’s her newest re-release, god I love that album and 1989s out soon as well.”

“Slow down babe, you’re losing me.”

“Sorry, so um Enchanted?” you asked, standing up, pulling the vinyl out of its case, replacing it on the record player. The song played softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” you smiled, turning back to Eddie. “Thank you for bringing my ring back, where was it?”

“My van, must have fallen off.”

“Or you stole it.”

“Me?” You nodded.

“Don’t think it’d fit Sweetheart.” The chorus played, and Eddie began to hum along, standing to be in front of you. “I like this other side of you.”

“Thought you’d make fun of me.”

“I’d never. I like all parts of you, this might be my new favourite, maybe we can see her concert.”

You snorted, “You willing to sell a couple organs?”

“For you, I do anything.” You smiled up at him softly, he nudged your nose with his.

“As Taylor said, I was Enchanted to meet you,” he smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : This was so fun to do! I just jammed out to Taylor the whole time and it was great. Thank you so much for this request I hope you enjoyed it 🤍

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[callsign-rogueone]

Hey my love, welcome to another rant of a chaotic mind. 😵‍💫❤️

Hear me out. Bren and duchess dancing. That's it. Whether it's at an event, say maybe there's this event at riorson house and there's music playing ( like classical idk ) he's dancing with her. Wedding ofc too. Say duchess is playing her millennial music and she's just idk vibing/dancing to it while holding Brens hand, he's going to give in to his wifey! He's has to right? He's a simp for her. He's gonna twirl her and hold her hand or waist/ lower back. And when she's just vibing to her music he lets her do what she wants. It's just a thought that has been stuck in my head for 2 days.

Also what do u think is bren and duchess song? I love the song love story from indila for them. But what do u think lovely? ♡

love all of the rants, especially about my most favorite couple 🧡

Duchess, being nobility, was definitely taught to do ballroom dancing and all that fancy stuff as a child. so she totally could (and has before) lead Brennan around in a lazy waltz in an empty ballroom in Riorson house or her parents' house, just the two of them swaying and Brennan humming a tune for them to dance to... keeping one hand on her back like you said, maybe he twirls her and pulls her in for a kiss, or dips her to make her laugh and hold on to him tighter... lots of potential there.

which is good practice for rare formal events where it's expected of them. and their wedding, of course. their first dance is just them swaying around and him holding her close and trying not to cry lol. Bren is absolutely going to cry at their wedding because he loves her so much and cannot believe it's happening + all the emotions of his fam not being there + the "official" start of his second life... yeah. I got a request for their proposal / wedding / honeymoon which I'm working on and it's going to be several emotions, fluff, spice, and a few tears lol

and you know he cannot say no to her. if she wants to dance with him, he's getting up out of his chair and following along, even though he's not the best at it / shy -- he just loves seeing her happy, loves holding her and seeing how graceful she is. he'll also stand silently and just watch her dance if she doesn't know he's there, and scare her a little bit every time when she twirls around and realizes he's there and gets all shy and embarrassed. but he just gives her a kiss and says it was cute / reminds her how much he loves seeing her like that.

also, if they're at a fancy party or something her parents are hosting, Brennan is by her side all night. no other man is going to dance with her since Brennan is glaring at any man who gets too close or looks at her the wrong way, especially if most people there don't know she's married to him. possessive baby, hehe.

only Brennan gets to hold you like that. the exception was Liam and Xaden and her dad each dancing with her at her wedding, which is traditional, and he knows that's her family. but nobody else! especially not Drake Cordella.

I do not understand any french at all but that song is really pretty! here's some of the songs that are on my playlist for them (I have playlists for most of the couples that shall remain secret, hehe)

across the stars (love theme from star wars): I like using this one when I'm writing for multiple couples, including them <3

I also like a lot of dramatic Lana Del Rey for them... young and beautiful (especially the orchestra version!!), born to die... dark paradise...

war of hearts by ruelle was on repeat when I was writing the chess game, for the dramatic ambiance. I'm listening it to it again now, going through my playlist for them and I can feel the panic I was trying to convey in duchess when the venin shows up... the lyrics don't really match their story but the vibe does!

for more thematic, obvious reasons, work song by hozier... "no grave can hold by body down, I'll crawl home to her"... generally anything about defying death for love. Brennan is just very Hozier coded in the depth of his love for his partner and his devotion to her,,, yeah. expect an essay about that later lol.

also, would that I by hozier... this one has references to fire, and to the beauty of her hair, and we all know how Bren feels about her hair.

til forever falls apart by ashe. I have a one-shot planned for this song but not for them, though I think it still applies -- they're endgame, until death and beyond.

I'm thinking about doing a little "disney love songs" type thing with little fics for a handful of the gfs / wives, and theirs would be kiss the girl from the little mermaid, with Ban and Marbh meddling and encouraging them to just kiss already!! since I still haven't given you how exactly they got together...

another song I have saved for a future chapter of theirs is are you with me by nilu. that will be the title for their next full chapter toward the end of iron flame / battle of basgiath... there's gonna be some angst there for sure, but "happy ending" (or as happy as the end of iron flame can be... both of them survive and the argument they have is resolved.)

[lady-severus-snape]

My brain is on fire with headcanons/prompts/plot bunnies.

🌠after getting Potter the memories he needed, Severus let himself slip away into the abyss. Finally, he could rest.

🌠Lily appearing in his minds eye. "Severus, I'm so sorry for being a shit friend. It's OK, let go of the past. You couldn't have known it was me that the prophecy spoke of." "But Lily-" "No, Severus Snape, you have done more than enough. Gave more than should have been asked. I want you to LIVE. Fall in love and be loved in return. Go. All will be well, I pinky promise" Severus ends up back in his body.

🌠magic sweeps him away and deposits him in another area. He comes to, people yelling and screaming out instructions, machines are beeping. He blacks out from the pain.

🌠you start your shift at the hospital, there is a new patient added to your rounds. You get the report from the day shift CNA.

🌠he is handsome despite looking like he had been through hell and back. Something took quite a chunk from his neck. Though you wasn't aware of a snake big enough that would deal that kind of damage, nevermind venomous....around these parts anyways.

🌠every night you started with him, Mr. Silver streak and ending. While cleaning and changing him, you noticed a wide singular streak of silver hair leading from his temple into his blue black hair.

🌠Severus felt like was floating, the pain a dull throb. He shouldn't be feeling pain if he was dead, right? It was weird, he could sense someone near him, the darkness brightened a little each time.

🌠there was something about Mr. Silver streak that kept you coming back to see him often during your rounds. And you would spend your break visiting, reading or singing a tune or another. Talking to him about your day and what is planned for him.

🌠severus felt himself lighten, he didn't know how much time has passed but he felt lighter and less burdened in his heart. One day, he heard the sweetest voice. He couldnt see where it was coming from or even answer.

🌠Severus realized it was on a schedule. He would hear their voice in intervals. They would talk to him, read, and even sing. He could feel them touching him, no hesitation, no disgust, soft, firm, gentle. They were bathing him. Severus blushed when he realized the feel their hands in his hair. Oh how he wished to see them.

🌠 Mr. Silver streak was responding well to therapy. His neck was recovering beautifully. It would scar tremendously and he would perhaps have difficulty speaking. You start to tell him tidbits of the world. The date, time, what new book was out or about this song that you were listening on repeat because it scratched your brain itchies the right way.

🌠About 6 months into your care, as your washing his hair he opens his eyes. You are so happy and excited. "Hello there sir" by the gods his eyes were dark like onxy. They shown with intelligence and something else as he glanced at you. "You are in Community Hospital. I'm (y/n), your CNA for night shift".

🌠Severus was absolutely breathless at the beauty he saw before him. He finally had a face to the voice that kept him company in the black void. Their chocolate eyes, so deep and warm. The curls of their hair framing their face. Was it as soft as it looked? Glowy sun kissed skin. The accent registed as American. He tried to speak but his throat was dry and lips chapped.

🌠you gently shush him "hey, don't strain and don't move too much. You've got a nasty tear into your throat. Might be awhile before you can speak." Severus sagged into the hospital bed, that's right. Nagini chewed into his throat at Voldemorts order. His eyes scanned the room he was in, white sterile walls faced him with boxes that made beeping noises. A muggle hospital.

🌠From there on, y/n was the ONLY one that Severus would allow to provide personal care. The others made his skin crawl and it wasn't a good of job anyways. The doctors were amazed at how quickly he woke from the coma. They didn't think he would come back.

🌠As time passed he got stronger, his voice slowly returned though it would forever have a rasp and lack volume. His favorite CNA held many conversations and discussions over the course of their shift. "Hi Sev! Ready to get changed? I got a new book to share with you" y/n greeted.

🌠When he was able to walk again, the first thing he did was hug y/n fully, the way he had wanted to when his eyes first landed them. He had fallen in love with y/n. When the dreaded day came for his discharge he waited until he saw you to leave.

🌠you were so happy when you heard the news that Severus was finally able to go home after being your patient for a whole year. You cried happy tears for him. "Severus! I'm so glad you get to walk out of here."

🌠you gave him your number and address so he could call, write, visit. He is so cute when he admits to not having a telephone but promised to write once he got settled. You two become the best of friends, calling each other....you always called him right after your shift ended and talked until you got home ok.

🌠Severus decided to stay in the US after going to the gringots branch there. Thankfully he had locked down his vaults and all his priceless possessions had been sequestered away.

🌠He started a new life, no masters, no potter brat, no teaching dunderheads. Pure bliss and relaxation and working on potions to his heart content. He was in the middle of bottling up an order when the phone rang. Looking up at the time, it was to early for y/n to call. Dread pooled into his stomach. Answering the phone his eyes hardened. Y/n was crying on the other end distraught. Quickly he asked where they were.

🌠Severus packs everything away and gets a taxi (he was still leary about apparition, his magic was still wonky after the whole thing). Arriving to the parking lot where he knew y/n always parked, he spots them crouched by the car, muffling their cries. Not only were they covered in questionable fluids, but through coaxing, they tell him that they are being sued for 'medical malpractice/neglict)

[akwolfgrl]

Drowned song 11

As Sanji wandered the streets of Lougtown, he thought of ways he could feed. As a siren, he could not live off of food alone. He needed attention it didn't matter if it was positive or negative. He refused to feed from his new crew, and he had also refused to feed from the staff of the Baratie.

He had a nice meal off of Fullbody before the other chefs had interrupted him. Sanji really needed a feast to last until the next island, who knows when that would be once they get to the grandline. He stopped in front of a flyer.

“Cooking compastion?” Sanji was tempted to say no. However, it night be a decent way of feeding if he didn't find something better.

Sanji wandered over to the fish market, checking if there was anything good. Might as well contuie to restock, he already had some larger dry goods delived to the mary. He slid through the crowd of people stopping at the front as some fishermen discussed their catch.

“Amazing, that's an elephant bluefin tuna!”

“That's right, it probably got mixed in from the south sea, I caught it with a pole and line.”

“A pole and line? No way get outta here!” People laughed, but Sanji had tuned the other men out.

“Elephant bluefin tuna,” Sanji would pay whatever the price to get that fish. He remembered looking at it in his second favorite book when he was younger with Zeff. He, of course, had packed that book and kept it in the galley. The fish was absolutely beautiful, its dark blue scale and silver underbelly, the two tusks coming up from about its large lips, and its long athena. “How much for the fish!” Sanji called out, stepping forward. He needed that fish and would pay whatever he had to have it. Recipes raceing therw his brain.

“Ah sorry it's not for sale. But if you want to try and win it, this baby will be the grand prize of the cooking competition!” The fishermen slapped the tuna with his hand.

Well, then it looked like he was joining after all.

[writer-zie]

Hiiiii, can we talk how would Cheong-Shin react when you get hurt? He is 9348490% an over protective cutie

Absolutely, let's do that.

Minor Injuries.

Be it something as small as a scrape on your knee, or a graze on your arm, Cheong-Sin spends precious time patching you up.

He'll clean each wound meticulously, giving you small kisses to try and distract you from the pain from the rubbing alcohol.

Finally, before putting plasters or any sort of covering, he'll kiss each wound, and even with no proper evidence, you both swore that it made them heal faster.

Major Injuries.

(TW: car accident, mentions of murder, broken bones, drunk driving )

A/N: The police number in South Korea is 112, and ambulance/fire dept. is 119

Also potentially unrealistic injuries, I've never been hit by a car so I wouldn't know

Let's be honest here. Cheong-Sin doesn't let you get badly hurt.

When you go out, he's with you.

When you're at home, he's with you.

When you're out with friends, he may not be directly by your side, but he'll be in the area.

However, with the Counters after him now, he had to spend more and more time away, leaving you vulnerable to whatever society had to throw at you. He couldn't even use a proper phone, lest it get tracked and traced back to you.

You, on the other hand, didn't know what was happening to him. He'd be with you for a few days, then disappear for a week, with barely any notice. You couldn't even call to ask where he went, due to the dangerous nature of his job. But sometimes he'd call you with a burner phone, just to check on you.

(You don't know what he actually does, but he's told you he's an agent of some sort, which excuses these absences.)

So, on one of the days he isn't in, you go out to buy groceries. It's weird not having him with you. It feels like you're missing something. Not as large as an arm, nor as painful as a heart. Just a presence. A sense of safety.

But it was fine, right? You'd been okay without him before, you'd be alright now.

You stepped out of your apartment building into the not-so-busy streets of Jungjin. The occasional car streamed down the road. The sky was a pale grey, the sun a light spot against the cloud cover. Not much was going on today. Oh well.

You turned the corner onto the street that led to the grocery store, making sure to step over the ground tile that stuck slightly up as you removed your earphones from your pocket.

What to listen to?

(or replace that with your favourite song)

The tunes swirled around in your mind as you turned up the volume, blocking out the boring environment, blocking out practically anything that could be heard. Which was technically unsafe, but this was a relatively safe city. The street was also empty, except for a few people in cafés, so you'd be fine.

You started to recount your grocery list in your head.

"Milk, eggs, ramyeon, [favourite food], carrots, bread, cere—"

*SCREECH*

A sharp pain, a sensation of flying, and the world went dark.

It was a shame you couldn't hear what was going on around you, or you would have heard a faint rumbling behind you, and might have been able to jump out of the way of the car that had sped onto the pavement.

Your unconscious body was sprawled out on the ground, head and nose bleeding.

The people in the cafés began to pour out, having seen the car through the glass. Several people called 112, others called 119.

Coincidentally, your phone began to ring. Unknown Number.

In a hotel on the far side of Jungjin, Ji Cheong-Sin typed your number into his burner phone.

"Who you calling?" asked a voice from across the room. He looked up to see Hyang-hui standing there, smiling as always.

"None of your business." he replied, letting the phone ring.

"Aw, who is it? Come on, tell me!"

"I said, it's none of your business."

"Damn, why so cagey? Don't tell me you've got a secret girlfriend or something?"

He put his hand on the bed, as to stand up.

"Damn, ok! I'll leave you alone then!" she said, slipping out of the door.

He sighed and sat back down. You weren't picking up the phone. That was very strange.

Normally you either picked up, or messaged saying you were at work, but no response at all? That was odd.

He called again.

As you were carried into the ambulance, your eyes began to crack open.

You raised your hand to your face, shielding your eyes from the light. Murmurs surrounded you. A face entered your frame of view.

"She's awake." it said, standing up.

A collective sigh of relief filled the vehicle.

"Ma'am, do you feel pain anywhere?" asked another one.

"Mhh...what?"

Then the pain did kick in. Your arm shot to your knee, it felt like you'd, well, you didn't know what it felt like, but it hurt.

The care assistants took a quick glance, and it was quite clear to see. Your kneecap was deformed. Fractured.

"Kiyo, I need a splint, Hyun-dae, tell the hospital about the patient." said one of the people.

"Gotcha Jae-dal." replied another.

Cheong-sin was getting worried now. Normally you'd have sent him a message or something, but you just hadn't responded at all.

"Cheong-sin? Is your secret girlfriend not replying?" called Hyang-hui from outside the door. Her footsteps retreated into the other room as Cheong-sin got up. He threw the door open but instead of confronting her, he approached the door out their hotel suite.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"You know the Counters are looking for you, right?"

"Don't care. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Hours?! Where are y—"

Cheong-sin closed the door.

After hailing a taxi, and paying the driver to go faster than was safe, he got off in front of your apartment building. He ran up the stairs, and hastily unlocked the door with the key you had given him.

Empty.

Now he was really worried. Not picking calls, not in your apartment, where would you be? Was he being obsessive? No, he wasn't.

*buzz* *buzz*

He yanked his phone from his pocket, to see two nerve-clenching messages.

"am in the hopsital"

"*hospital"

He could not have run faster.

You lay in your hospital bed after seeing the 4 missed calls from an unknown number. Cheong-sin was definitely worried about you. Well, you were worried about him too, you didn't want him to get hurt in his job as some sort of secret agent.

"Can I go to the place where you go home? My boyfriend's gonna be worried."

"Well we should keep you here for a bit, just to make sure your condition is stable."

"Well, I feel fine. My leg and hand hurt, but we established that in the ambulance. Can I go?" you asked.

"We don't advise it."

"I'll be fine. Is there like a form or something I can sign so I can leave?"

"Alright then. Yes, there is."

After signing, you were provided a pair of crutches, and assisted to the exit.

The next few seconds felt like a lifetime for Cheong-sin. As you came into frame, knee in a cast, and crutches under your shoulders, his heart sank. He rushed forward, eyes almost glassy.

"This is what happens when you form human connections, they're weak. They get hurt. Why not just kill her and save yourself the pain?", whispered the spirit, but Cheong-sin paid no notice. That was the furthest thing from his mind right now.

He pulled you close, burying his head into your shoulder, lifting you off the ground slightly.

You wrapped a feeble arm around him, smiling.

"I'm so, so sorry. If only I had been there I could've—"

"Quiet, aegiya." you said, pressing a hand to his mouth. "If you'd been there, you'd only have gotten hurt yourself."

"But I wouldn't have been." he started, pulling your hand away. "I could have got you out of the way, or stopped the car, or— I'm so sorry." he replied, squeezing your hand tightly.

Cheong-sin carried you in his arms all the way home. No matter how much you said you could walk, he refused to let you. You'd already been hurt enough.

He wouldn't be returning to the hotel tonight. Hyang-hui could wait.

Recovery.

Cheong-sin would try his best to be around for your recovery, but obviously he couldn't, but every chance he got he'd stay by your side, get you food, water, things to do, check on your situation, by phone if he couldn't be there in person. You wouldn't be able to worsen the injury even if you tried, despite what the hospital said. Your leg was immobilised, as was your [non-dominant] hand, so nothing could really happen to you.

The driver who had crashed into you was drunk, and was taken to the police station once the police were called. An accident took place that night.

A drunk driver was broken out of a holding cell in Jungjin police station. There were signs of a struggle, but there was no security footage for about 3 minutes in that police station. Once it came back, both drunk driver and the person who broke him out were gone.

Some people reported hearing screams late in the night, but when the area was examined, nothing was found.

No police officers had any record of this happening.

And Cheong-sin got home slightly later that night, with scarlet eyes.

[crying-fantasies]

Killing Me Softly With His Song (3)

Masterlist

Part 1 | part 2 | part 3: Calling | part 4 | part 5

There is a chirping sound outside, it catches your interest instantly, way too familiar with the surroundings to this point, way too alert all the time, it seems that your new found familiarity with your new home made it easier to discern the song out of place, Soundwave isn't home, he hasn't returned yet and that makes you hyper aware of any danger nearby, you try to look for Buzzsaw but the cassette isn't in the same place you saw him before taking a nap, the sound gets nearer by the second, is more energetic now in a frequency so high it's almost faint to the human ear, one that gets louder, higher in volume, it takes you a moment to think in almost fear of what would come when your shoulders relax, finally recognizing the meaning of such a strange song in the middle of the night, only the light of the solar cells lamps around the house helping you to see what you can of the darkness outside around you, you feel a little angry, sure, maybe a bit embarrassed too, nodding along to the tune, which is now more sweet in some sense, moving from one point of the house to another.

He is playing with you, again, mess with your nerves and see if you follow the instructions he gave, "In case I'm not here, I want you to be alert, I want you to search for protection, look out for the cassettes, for me"

Soundwave doesn't joke, not when it involves his team, when it involves you, so you choose to stay quiet, fighting the urge to tell him that you could do better than what he is asking for even knowing is all pretended, stupid ego born from your pride, he knows better, knowing you would be frozen in place with a gun directed to your head, waiting for the most painless death if you follow what others do and tell you, be foolish enough if it means you could get out alive or someone else, he will not let you go like that, so, he has started this strange song and dance.

Simulations, creepy ones, he says those are necessary, to be as real as possible, so you know what to do, he didn't had in mind that you'll take it like a bad joke, and so it was almost forgotten for a time, because he would always protect you, he would always be there.

Except that it became worse when a former decepticon found your safe house, called Soundwave a traitor and pointed a gun at you, that was the moment you saw the real him, the one who was able to kill his opponent with his arsenal or his bare servos if he had to, the one you heard almost shout, you've never before heard him raise his voice.

At first it put you at the edge, like, okay, was that really necessary? Maybe no, absolutely no, he didn't say it out loud, he just gave you time alone, process what happened, understand what he really was and what he was really capable to do, he expected you to leave, leaving you alone to go inside the wild and try to forget about it, maybe surprised, maybe he noticed a few seconds in that you were following him, Soundwave doesn't show much with all the protection on his face, but the fact that he let you touch him and then let you hug him was proof enough, you were not leaving, he was satisfied with that and even grateful you dare to think when his servo pressed you to him, kissing him just above his visor.

It was enough, for both of you.

"Wave" such a playful tune, you feel the nickname roll off your tongue with ease, looking around the house and every window in search of any peek of his paint job or the subtle red light of his visor knowing how hard it is to hear even his footsteps if he wants to be unseen, hearing again the song of a bird near as your only indicator of his presence.

There were a lot of birds around, sure, but no one would do that same song, not without an impromptu flight from the other side of the globe to serenade you with an intricate mating call.

"I want to see you" your request was denied, at least for now, the song changed now to soft and deep growls, almost like a hard purr from a large feline, making the few glasses in the windows vibrate with it and guiding you to where he was, slowly looking over your shoulder, the vibration was more evident just behind your body, obvious on the way it was moving around, playing with you, "I want to see my boyfriend" the denomination makes things to him, you know, feeling first hand how the hairs on your skin react to the increase of his EM field around, full of charge and static, full of need he can't say out loud but that he can imitate and show you.

Some say he is secretive and you give them an affirmative nod, indeed true, only partially, now, after having cohabitating with him for years you can say he is also timid, closed to the exterior.

The deep growls are more notorious, almost calling out to you before they change, now there is the sound of humming, a song, your own voice back, "I want to see you" it says, the same need in it as any of the other calls, "I want to see you" it keeps on, in every one of them and every step you take to the window you can sense the increase in the tone and also the increase of charge around, now moving to the door.

"Wave-" you call out, finally seeing his pede ahead, when did he got there? No idea, now just out of the main door, it makes you feel good with trembling hands, the way he can move silently around, as his huge size wasn't enough to make you feel at his total mercy.

He plays with the recording of your voice "I want- kzzt- you"

There is those noises again as he shows you his open servo, you move your shoe to clean it the best you can before getting on him, accept his offer in a way it could be understood in any animal or human language when your cheek makes contact with his mouth piece, giving gentle strokes which are reciprocated with an exvent so low you could pass as sigh from his part, finally hearing his voice after a long day, his servo holds you close and you close the contact in order to give kisses on the end of his digits down to the articulation points and back again to now lick around, he tastes as soap, of course, he took deep care in preparation, clean enough to be acceptable after a long day out in the field, "my boyfriend is so considerate", he grunts, you can feel the energy, even see drops of condensation falling, making trails on his helm as a result of the increasing warmth of his derma and armor.

You'll ask, later, why has been the reason for this strange, but not unwelcomed, approach and his decision to take you out, Soundwave likes to be with you in a closed environment, no one can see or hear, no one can reach, his digits moving along you, calm, hearing every word and sound, feeling the way your body is full of different forms, you put your hands up, a silent request for him to get near, and so he does, but he doesn't open his protection when you kiss the exterior of it.

You stop, giving a few pats on his digits, "Wait a moment, let's just..." Your legs almost give up when he let's you again in the dirt outside the house, he seems concerned by your negative reaction, it's easy for him to sense your need, your clothes remain on, out of place, you don't try fix it and that shows you still want to interface with him.

"Don't you-"

"I do" you take his servo on your hands, guiding him inside the construction at the other side of the house, he let's you, where he doesn't have the necessity to mass displace, where you can him feel comfortable on his own, "but you don't like it here, right?"

He follows you, no complaints when you close the big door after him, only silently observing while your clothing start to fall around, while you invite him near with open arms, accept him when you are most vulnerable.

Your life will be limited by this same vulnerability, your own biology, because it's way too dangerous to give eternal life to such a selfish and destructive race like humanity, you can't say the same for his own kind, there must be a reason they can be almost immortal, or maybe is all just coincidence, in the same way the evolution of life in earth was a coincidence, in the way humanity came to existence and cybertronians found them in the final years of their war, or the bizarre and curious way both weren't exactly too different from one another.

"There is too much noise" you tell him, moving along with him, touching his jaw with your fingertips with a moan ending your words, stopping the act for a moment and using his transformation seams to climb your way up to his helm, he hasn't said much, mind in other place, one that, as usual, revolved around you, "Soundwave, is everything okay?" Your front is almost over him, his visor show him how your heart bumps blood fast to the rest of your body, how your breath is strained, but you still reach out to him, try to know what is wrong, shielding him with your body the best that you can.

As always, he doesn't say much, keeping his own problems for himself, the last he wants is for you to be in the middle of the fire that is the future he wishes for and the past he can't scape from.

Before he would have never thought of running from it, but now that he has you, now that you were about to die at his side-

"Soundwave" you say his designation with authority, something laughable but not unwelcomed, not from you, he let's you embrace him, hearing your command and think of something else, no, not to think, "just let go", opening his mouth piece to let you press yourself on his open intake, exhaling long and paused when his glossa makes contact with your skin, lips kissing just above where your ribs start and the soft skin of your belly before going way down while rising your whole body with one servo.

You call out to him, over and over, if he could keep this is up, hearing your voice, feeling your presence, for all his life, he could be endlessly happy.

[yowyowyaoi]

Sasodei Christmas Headcanons

❄️ Deidara insists on a real tree, not artificial, every year. Sasori agrees and takes him out into the woods to chop one down. But once they’re out there Deidara fawns over how “perfect” each tree is and “feels bad” about cutting them down. Day ends with a trip to the store for a nice plastic tree. Sasori would prefer keeping the light and ornament scheme monochromatic, but Deidara prefers a helter-skelter of colors and ornaments and lights and tinsel. Sasori always lets him have his way because of how cute he looks when he’s excited.

❄️ They don’t really buy presents for each other, but they spend a lot of time picking out gifts for the others in the Akatsuki. Their “gift” for each other is planning a nice vacation to take together after the holidays.

❄️ Sasori doesn’t like Christmas decorations going up until December 1st at the earliest. Deidara starts sneaking things out of storage the day after Halloween.

❄️ Deidara starts a “tradition” where from Dec 1 to Dec 25 he and Sasori watch one Christmas movie a night. During this time they’re not allowed to check their phones or work on their hobbies or do anything at all other than spend time together. At first Sasori didn’t like this but he eventually grew into it when he saw how excited Dei would get each night when it was time for the movie to start. 

❄️ Sasori makes absolutely delicious Christmas cookies. He gets many special requests from other people to bake them for parties and get-togethers. He can’t eat but he remembers baking with his mother during the holiday season, and he has Dei there to taste-test all of his creations. His specialty are gingerbread men dressed up/made to look almost like carbon-copies of the person he’s making them for.

❄️ Sasori’s favorite thing in the world is to sit in a room that’s totally dark except for the lights of the tree, with Deidara’s head in his lap, as the two quietly tell each other about their days.

❄️ Deidara’s mother would make what she called a Christmas Scrapbook every year. It would start on December 1st and end on December 25th. In it would be pictures of the two of them together, and the different fun things they would do that month. Deidara’s mother died when he was around 12, and the scrapbooks stopped. He told Sasori about it when they had been dating for about 3 years, and thought nothing more about it. Then on Christmas of that year Deidara found himself unwrapping a beautifully put together scrapbook of the two of them together, and all the things they did that month. On the very last page Sasori taped a Diamond ring and wrote “To Be Continued?” underneath. Deidara sobbed. They got married 5 months later, a week after Deidara’s birthday.

❄️ Sasori absolutely loves wrapping presents. He likes making the packages look perfect and uniformed, and adding ribbons and bows to everything when he gets a chance. Deidara hates wrapping gifts; he’s all thumbs and most of the time more tape gets stuck to him than the wrapping paper. So he’ll usually convince Sasori to wrap up his gifts for him.

❄️ Both of them like Christmas music when they’re listening at home or in the car, but for some reason their love turns to hate when they hear it played in public places. If they’re in a store where that music is playing, they’ll purposely (and obnoxiously) talk so loudly that it drowns the tunes out. Or Deidara will change the lyrics of the songs to be “funny” aka inappropriate. They’ve been asked to leave several places due to this behavior. It becomes a bit of a competition with them, to see how many stores they can be kicked out of before December 25th rolls around.

❄️ The day before Christmas Eve is spent visiting/exchanging gifts with Sasori’s grandmother. She almost always knits them sweaters. Sasori hides his in the back of his closet but Deidara loves his, often wearing them until they fall off his body. 

❄️ Christmas Eve is spent with the other members of the Akatsuki. They exchange gifts with each other and they also do a Secret Santa on top of that, but the gift they get for the person they draw is supposed to be silly/funny. Sasori will give gifts according to each person’s tastes, but Deidara will give sculptures. Every time. Whether they explode or not depends on whether Deidara feels the person has been Naughty or Nice that year.

❄️ Christmas Day is just the two of them. They watch movies and Sasori makes Dei a lovely Christmas dinner. That he eats WAY too much of, and usually ends up with a stomachache. Deidara is a bit like a dog when it comes to food; he has a complete lack of self-control. If you put a whole turkey in front of him, forget taking a few slices, he will attempt to eat the. whole. turkey.

❄️When they have kids, Elf on the Shelf becomes like an Olympic event for the two of them. They take turns each night competing to see who can have the elf in funnier poses. Sasori’s best was filling the sink full of cereal, placing the elf sitting over the sink next to a jug of milk, holding a large spoon and a note that said “Sorry, I couldn’t find a big enough bowl!” Deidara’s best was the elf sitting on the kitchen counter next to a can of ginger surrounded by slices of bread, with a note that read “Surprise! I made you a gingerbread house!” Their kids love this tradition and can’t wait to wake up each day to see what the elf has done.