#twenty one pilots x reader fanfiction

[j-jinxee]

TYLER DRABBLE -☆

NSFW under the cut! [warnings - edging, oral]

"ff- fuckkk" Tyler's head fell back as he continued to whine. His hands stuttered, urging his need to stop you. Ultimately stopping himself instead, knowing it'd only make things worse. The more he resisted, the longer you'd go on. His calloused hands went back to gripping the bed sheets, just needing to feel in control of something, anything.

"babe- baby please.. ah!" His hips spasmd — crying, pleading for a release, but you weren't done yet. You were absolutely obsessed with how pretty Tyler looked like this, prolonging his misery for as long as possible, just so you could see his desperate expression and helpless mannerisms. He swallowed harshly, attempting to soothe his dry throat, a result of his rough and heavy breathing. His eyes screwed shut — the sensation of vision being too much for him at the moment, but you didn't like that. "Eyes on me baby" you tilted his head forward and met his eyes, fuck he looked so good like this. He struggled to keep eye contact, feeling so helpless under your touch. Your hand had been laced with thick coats of pre, some leaking down and decorating his v-line. Pretty, pretty boy.

"My pretty boy ~ pretty pretty boy" you whispered somewhat musically as your hand retracted yet again. "ff- fuck, please!" Tears began to form at corners of his eyes as he screwed them shut once more. It was getting painful now — he simply couldn't take anymore without sobbing, but he held back as best he could. As he was lost in cloudy thoughts, you slowly moved back and downwards. Arching your back behind you as your lips came dangerously close to his tip. You smiled, looking up at his head thrown back, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

You kissed his tip, "A-ahh!". The new sensation of your hot lips just barely grazing his cock was too much, he knew he couldn't do this any longer. You thought he'd done well, although you wished it could last forever, you were happy to finish him off now. Licking a strip up his length, then bottoming out your own mouth with his aching member. He instinctively thrusted up into your mouth, making this sick game of yours end as soon as possible. You allowed him to finish in any way he pleased, which ended up just being down your throat — he feared doing anything else would lead back into edging.

"fuckfuckfuck- a-ah!" He moaned, thick ropes of hot white cum spilled out, finally releasing what'd been kept in for atleast a couple hours now. You swallowed and lapped up every last drop of his milky relief, while he layed there — nearly passed out from how intense that orgasm was. He was so, so pretty like this, just a sensitive little mess, sweaty and exhausted. He weirdly was never a fan of recieving aftercare — he said it made him feel too incapable, which is understandable. Although, you knew he'd need it after tonight, you'd force him if you had to.

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

This was inspired by the lyrics "you look so pretty when you're passing out from all of the tension" from Streets of LA by Ayesha Erotica hehe. I also just wanted to write subby Tyler cuz omg, you can't tell me that man is a top only, not possible -☆

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Hello,

I was wondering if maybe you could write some sort of fluffy story with torchbearer Josh. Maybe something angsty/fluffy, like reader being worried about him before the Banditos go to do the big fight at Dema in Paladin Strait? If not, that’s okay too. No pressure. I’m just happy I found someone writing TØP on this site.

We're Going Back - Torchbearer!Josh Dun x GN!Reader

Pairing: TorchbearerJosh x Gender Neutral Bandito Reader

Warnings: Some swearing, anxiety/panic attacks, fight between Josh and Reader (reader actually is mean guys) There's fluff at the end tho!!

Word Count: 1523 (a nice long one for you anon)

Summary: When Reader finds out that Clancy and Torchbearer are going back into Dema she does everything she can to prevent it.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it anon. Please feel free to request more because I honestly love writing for twenty one pilots. And requests are what help keep me writing I-/

Note - some of this is headcannon for the purposes of making the story work

The day Clancy and I left Dema, I knew there was no going back. It just wasn’t happening. We’d managed to escape together. He’d been outside the walls alone before but during the annual assemblage he’d convinced me to ‘tag along’ as he’d put it. We’d been close friends growing up in Dema, that was just the way it was. Things changed once we left. I remember the day I met the Torchbearer, Josh. It took a lot longer than I thought it would to learn his name. For reasons unknown; he'd kept it a secret known only by his closest friends (or in my case, girlfriend). Clancy and I had only spent a few weeks at the Bandito camp before he was recaptured. He was gone for years. While I knew Josh was looking out for him, I knew exactly what kind of pain Clancy was going through. It was Dema. Josh hadn’t grown up within the walls like Clancy and I, things were different for him, he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. Which was why when he reunited with Clancy and brought him back to the camp, my panic attacks started.

“Oh god you look so different,” I cried into Clancy’s shoulder, “are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not. You’re back.” He nodded quietly, I could feel the tightness of his body in my arms. “What’s wrong?” I asked. 

“We’re going back in,” he voiced bluntly, looking at Josh who nodded knowingly. This wasn’t happening. Clancy wasn’t going back, he’d just gotten out. He’d just been forced against his own will to create propaganda for the very institution that nearly killed us. Not to mention Josh hadn’t been physically in the city for longer than a few hours before. Of course they weren't going in there. Right? 

“You should go get some rest before we start preparations,” Josh said, clearly noticing the shocked look on my face. “It’s good to have you back, Clancy.” Clancy’s eyes darted to mine before he walked toward the tent that had been empty for years. Josh and I were left alone, standing in the middle of the camp. 

“You said we,” I muttered. 

“I did,” he replied, looking at me carefully. He’d grown used to the constant nightmares I’d had about my time in Dema and worries about Clancy. “You know why we're doing this,” He said. His tone made it clear he was  stating the obvious.

“You’re going with him,” I could feel my head throbbing as I grabbed his hand tightly. Josh looked at me, a quiet sigh escaping him while he led me to our private tent. 

“Of course I am.” He said matter of factly; like he never would have even considered another option. We sat down, his arms wrapping around my torso, the brightly coloured tattoo sleeve peeking out under his shirt. 

“It’s not safe and you goddamn know it Josh,” my voice trembled as I remembered my time in the city. All I could think about was how isolating and cold it was. Josh almost chuckled, despite the fact that the situation really wasn’t funny.

“I’m aware it’s dangerous,” He retorted, his hand resting on his forehead before he looked at me again,“I’m not gonna let him go in there alone.” 

“The bishops will kill you the second they see you, and then what? The rebellion is over. Both of our leaders will be dead, the banditos will be killed and everyone will have lost.” Josh was getting frustrated now, his grip on me loosening with every exchange. He didn’t want to be having this conversation, I could tell, but he knew if he tried to walk away I’d just follow him.

“That’s not going to happen. We have a plan, we’ll be fine,” He said, his voice full of empty hope. I knew what I was about to say when I said it, I knew I was firing a shot. One I’d been keeping in till I needed to use it. 

“Oh and how did your last ‘plan’ turn out Josh? What with Clancy being recaptured and forced to write SAI?” He dropped his arms from me and moved away so he was sitting directly in front of me. 

“Don’t.” He snapped, a hand raising and pointing at me. “Don’t bring that up.” He clenched his teeth, his jaw tightening as anger and frustration was starting to overtake his mind. I had to fight the urge to continue throwing emotional bullets his way. I was going to make it clear to him that it was dangerous in Dema, that he couldn’t go, regardless of whether or not it hurt our relationship. Because I loved him and I couldn’t lose any more than I already had. 

“Why not?” I challenged him, “It was your plan.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” he exhaled, his whole body tense now as he yelled. “You don’t think I lay awake at night thinking it’s all my fault Clancy was captured?” His fists were clenched, he was fighting the urge to punch something. Maybe himself, maybe a wall. He closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths, trying to calm himself like he’d taught me when I’d had nightmares. He looked like he was about to check out for the rest of the day, what I’d said really had an impact on him. “Stop,” He managed to mutter, still fighting to stay in control of his emotions.

“Okay,” I nodded. I knew exactly how he’d felt about Clancy and SAI. I knew he thought it was his fault so he spent every waking hour with Clancy, making sure he could get back safely. I knew he blamed himself, not only for Clancy’s time back in Dema but also for hurting me. He hated himself so much already and hearing me remind him of what he thought about himself all the time was making him feel terrible. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting for a moment before he finally spoke again, his voice shaky. “Just stop… please..”

I reached out to hold him, “I’m sorry, I went too far Josh.” He rested his head into the crook of my neck, quiet sobs filling the air. He melted at my touch, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me closer as he held back sobs.

“Please,” He eventually muttered, “Please don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you, I’m just scared. I don’t want you or Clancy leaving me again, I can't take any more losses,” I pressed my lips to his temple. 

“I know, I know,” He mumbled, his eyes squeezed shut as he was trying to compose himself. I continued to hold him tightly, not wanting to ever let go. “I’m scared too,” he added, his voice quiet. Eventually he pulled back and looked at me, his eyes slightly bloodshot from crying. He took a deep breath, still trying to keep hold of whatever composure he could. “We’ll be fine, I promise,” he mumbled, but even I could tell he had doubts. 

“You can’t promise that,” I sighed. 

“Watch me,” he replied sternly, though the shakiness in his voice didn’t help. He reached a hand out now, a cold palm cupping my chin as his eyes met mine. “I promise, we’ll come back. You have my word.” He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine for a few moments. 

“If I lose you, I need you to know that you're the best thing to ever happen to me, Torchbearer.” I tried desperately to come to terms with the fact that I was going to have to let him go.

“Don’t talk like that,” He whispered, “Not like you’re already saying good-bye to me.” I cupped his face gently, pressing my lips to his in an attempt to wade off tears. He melted into the kiss, gripping his hands at my sides as he held onto me. He deepened the kiss, his head tilting so the angle was better as he pulled me closer. I would’ve been happy to stay here if it meant him not having to leave. We pulled back as the fabric of the tent rustled, Clancy entering. We pulled back as the fabric of the tent rustled, Clancy entering. 

“It's time to start packing supplies and getting the others ready if we want to make it on time.” With a slight exhale Josh pulled away, turning to look at Clancy and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah we need to get moving,” he mumbled, his hands letting me go.

“Josh?” I called, catching him just before he followed Clancy outside.

He turned to look at me again, a hint of concerned look plastered onto his face. 

“Yeah?” He replied, his voice quiet.

“You better keep that promise.” I desperately attempted to hold back my sobs, knowing full well that as soon as one slipped I was a goner. 

“I will,” he whispered, taking a step closer to me again. “I’ll come back.” With careful hands he reached out and wiped away a stray tear that was rolling down my cheek. “I’ll always come back to you.”

//

Please submit any requests y'all have! I love to write so let me know if you've got any!

[shadowsinger11]

Guys

Amongst the survivors still thriving (and rotting) on this app, would anyone be interested in Clancy fanfics? Perhaps Clancy x reader? I feel like I might be able to come up with drabbles of sorts to get me back on track

[wallflowerwritesstuff]

Snap necks (and snap back)

Simon hated the idea of you, a newbie, at first.

Now, he's focused on making sure you don't run yourself into the ground despite your obvious distrust in him and the others.

TW: Minor Implications of PTSD, Slight Hurt/Comfort (In a Simon way), One shot (for now?), Minor Injury mention

****

Simon loved when you kept eye contact. 

“Don’t test me today, Riley.”

It was a sign. 

A sign of what, he wasn’t sure just yet, never having been the type to care if people saw him or saw what had been molded by years of life attempting to drag him down both physically and mentally. 

Not many could handle it—avoiding his eyes entirely or folding in order to show they were the farthest thing from a threat. 

You, however, were not intimidated by his size or the sound of his voice. You never bothered to pry into why he always wore a mask, taking Johnny’s explanation for face value and moving on swiftly from the conversation. Even after hearing about what he looked like through the grapevine, you hadn’t attempted to sneak a peek just to say you’d gotten one over on him. 

In fact, you might have done your best to avoid it—and him—entirely. 

Which made the situation at hand all the more tense: a storm in the making. 

“Ain’t a teacher to be givin’ exams, Spitfire.”

Your jaw rolled as you debated addressing the smart ass comment vs. the unwelcome nickname. 

While everyone had taken to trying out new names every so often without much response, he’d been dead set on what he’d wanted to call you from the get go. Perhaps it would have landed better if not for the fact you and him had never once seen eye to eye on anything, even the smaller things such as what to eat or drink. 

Neither of you had started off on the best footing, if on any at all. 

The idea of a newbie on an already solid team had come as a surprise to them all, for Simon more irritating than helpful. He’d expected a person full of nerves: pure deadweight that wouldn’t last longer than a week, if even. And if he were being honest, seeing you for the first time had barely changed his opinion despite the cold demeanor you’d had.

You didn’t look like much of a soldier even under all the gear: if anything, appearing better suited for a desk or office rather than a borderline field servant like the rest of them. 

“Name?” Price had asked, more for the others to know than himself. He’d no doubt already gotten your file prior to your addition. He wouldn’t have accepted you so graciously if not for that insight.  

“Hitman,” You’d answered, earning a snort from Johnny which he choked down after a scathing look from Price. He had tried his best to pass it off as a cough, Gaz shoving him with an elbow before smiling and taking over to avoid the other from shoving his foot in his mouth any further. 

“Hitman, huh? You must be pretty skilled to have a name like that.” 

You hadn’t reacted to either comment made, staring directly at him with an almost eerie calm that had the room’s light atmosphere faltering. 

“Dunno,” you’d said dryly, scanning the area before doubling back to scan each of them, “Not like I picked it.” 

While half true, Simon had learned through Johnny, with his shit-eating grin and all, that you most likely knew very well why you’d gotten that name pinned onto you. 

“Pure dead brilliant, ‘at one,” he’d said while cackling to himself, not even attempting to hide how pleased he felt at the information. “Bet th’bastard deserved it an’ mair. Shuid o’ called ‘em Hook or Boxer instead!”

That knowledge, along with how well the first mission had gone despite all the unexpected issues which had nearly ended the task force altogether, was the beginning of a partial shift in his perception of you. 

You’d gone from possible deadweight to a person of interest after hauling ass with Johnny back to safety, Gaz hanging off the two of you with a broken leg and a hell of concussion. He had still managed to cover you as you ran, later admitting he had just shot and hoped for the best with his slowly darkening vision.

You had proven dependable both alone and while working with the others despite being a practical stranger to them all. That was more than he could say for most people. 

The confusion on your face afterward when Price and Johnny had offered their praise had been comical, held down only by the fact that the medic had kept you longer than intended. Simon had expected you to accept the praise and finally smile for once, but instead you seemed almost angry as your ankle was being flexed back and forth. 

The fuck are you all on about? Give me some fucking quiet and go check on Gaz if you want to hover someone. He’s worse off.

The response had only earned a slap on the back from Johnny, a slew of curses leaving his lips when you nearly buckled where you sat from the action. Your expression had shifted as you nearly let out a gasp, only to swallow it down and force that same cold expression back onto your face. Price had dragged him away and wished you a speedy recovery, Johnny following but not without a final apology and only earning an icy look in response.

How you’d avoided a scolding into next year for such righteous indignation against your superior was beyond Simon. What should have been a write up instead had earned a smirk and almost proud expression from Price, the reason why only hitting Simon once he’d taken his leave and finally left you alone like you’d seemingly wanted. 

You had been worried. 

For Gaz, specifically, considering you had no reason to mention his state if you truly just wanted to be left alone. 

But you had also been hurt somewhere along the line, embarrassed by it for some reason. Simon had nearly turned back once it had clicked, but he stopped himself before he could. He understood why you’d lied about your status, the memory of you barking out orders for a medic while holding up Gaz as he went in and out of consciousness burned into his thoughts. 

Besides, you hadn’t pried in his personal life, so he wouldn’t in yours, either. 

That didn’t mean he’d forget that you were surprisingly soft when you wanted to be. 

The sensation of being shoved brought Simon back to the present, you standing in front of him with a raised brow. He huffed out a breath in amusement, it coming out as more of a sigh. Not because of your shove itself—you were military trained, after all—but because of the fact he had already been leaning against the wall when you’d entered, meaning there wasn’t much point in it apart from essentially hitting him. Even if he had been standing without the wall behind him to support him, you wouldn’t have been able to so much as make him flinch. 

He supposed you using him as a punching bag was a vast improvement from pretending he wasn’t there at all.

“Fuck you.” 

The rest of the laugh from earlier threatened to escape, and part of him debated whether or not to let it. Your face would twist in a rage at the sound, no doubt, but maybe he wanted that. 

Maybe he wanted to see you lose it for once: let out the emotion you kept inside and away from them all despite the months working together. He had learned early on that while emotion on the job was a liability, processing outside of it was what allowed for a clear head on the battlefield. 

Your frustration had already festered and bubbled over, obvious by how you were attempting to pin him down with your sharp gaze alone. 

 (you’d never be able to, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy seeing you try.)

He tilted his head, scanning over you slowly before working his attention back up to your tense expression. If he wanted, he could defuse this situation. He could leave without feeding into your anger and allow you the time alone to decompress from whatever had left you shaking in front of him. 

In the time it took to consider his options, you seemed to have had enough and wandered off toward the cabinets. Simon watched you slam them open and shut, grumbling under your breath about something he couldn’t quite catch. What he did catch was what you were gathering: two mugs. tea packets, a pot. 

Pushing off the wall, he moved to a stool, sitting at the island separating the both of you instead. 

Your body tensed as he grew closer, but you didn’t snap at him or remove your attention from the water. That was an improvement considering how he’d seen your hackles raise the first time you two were so much in a room together. He always assumed it was due to training, but a part of him had a feeling that was only a small part of it. 

A calm slowly settled over you as the water began to boil, Simon catching the exhaustion and contemplation more clearly without your anger masking it. You didn’t move a muscle which was odd in and of itself, as no matter how much training you’d had, when on base, you’d always be fidgeting somehow. 

Finger taps, leg bounces, lip or cheek chewing, skin picking, lash pulling. 

Something.  

“You’re off.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t move. You didn’t even look up at him. 

“How so?”

Simon squinted at the tone, crossing his arms as he exhaled deeply. “Quiet.” 

“I recall that being something you hated when we first met. Something about scurrying about like a mouse. Or rat.” 

You finally lifted your head after shutting off the stove top, meeting his gaze once again as the steam from the pot rose before disappearing entirely. Simon grunted, recalling his harsh words and owning them rather than attempting to recall context. 

Had he been aware of how good your memory was, he might have been more careful about what he’d said to you early on. 

(he wouldn’t have. but you’d been around long enough to know he wasn’t exactly known for tact.)

“I hate lots’ve things. That ain’t one’ve ‘em.” 

A whistle echoed as you tilted your head. “Getting mixed signals here, Riley. Keep this up and one might think you actually like my presence.” 

“Whatever it is,” he stated, not breaking eye contact and ignoring the attempt at avoiding the conversation, “Solve it. Soon.”

The last thing they needed was to lose one of the few competent people that actually meshed well with them all. Maybe not off the field, but that didn’t matter nearly as much at the moment as on it. 

“Worried about me?” you said with a chuckle as if laughing as some sort of inside joke, turning your back to him and pouring the water into the mugs as the tea began to steep. 

“Depends on what it is makin’ you so…” 

He paused, attempting to find the word for what you looked like. 

Burnt out. 

No, you were full of energy as he’d seen earlier. Not the kind of energy you usually were, though. This was more subdued yet intense. 

Like you were watching and waiting for something to happen, almost. 

He squinted as you turned back around, a mug in each hand as you stepped closer for once, placing them both down on the kitchen island and pushing one toward him. He didn’t look at it as a single word slipped from his lips. 

“Nervous.” 

Your eyes widened a fraction, barely noticeable but enough so that he could clock it. With a clenched jaw, you swallowed hard and stared down into your mug. 

“I don’t do nervous.” 

He didn’t respond, knowing a lie when he heard one. The room dove into silence, somewhat more suffocating than the anger you’d ripped into the room with as he was attempting to relax. 

“What about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Do you do nervous?” 

You shifted your head just enough to meet his gaze, holding it as you always did. This time didn’t feel as amusing or interesting, threatening to cause a frown to slip onto his lips. You cradled the mug in both hands, eyes flickering down when he didn’t respond immediately, as if it’d give you whatever answers you were looking for. 

“It was a stupid question, sure, but you don’t have to think so hard ab—”

“Every day of my life.” 

Your head snapped up at that, but before you could say anything else, he stood, moving toward the door. You didn’t need more than that—you weren’t looking for anything other than that, he knew. 

All you’d needed was something (or one) to relate to after months of being unable to do so. 

An olive branch, if nothing else.

“Thanks for the tea.”

He wondered what you looked like as he walked out of the room. If your eyes were about to bulge from your skull, or if you were irritated all over at the fact you’d made him something and he hadn’t even touched it. 

(He would have never guessed that you were left staring at the untouched mug in confusion, expression darkening at the realization that old habits truly did die hard.)

[when-worlds-end]

What if I just...?

The blood beneath your skin boiled as you stormed down the hill, the dead leaves crunching beneath your feet as if screaming out a warning to the one who you were dead set on finding.

The distinct thrum of your heart sounded like war drums as it resonated blaringly within your ears. Thump. Thump. Thump.

As you squinted your eyes against the glare of the sun, you could just barely make out the figure who stood at the edge of the gravelly bank, the perk little "cat" ears that you had sewn so carefully onto that old ski mask sticking straight up at the sky.

You screamed so deafeningly that the word needed to bounce off the walls of the canyon surrounding you before it crawled it's way back...

"CLANCY!"

[z0mbiekisses]

part one- if i can change i hope i never know.

jasmine’s life was predictable. to say the least. she had a steady routine going on. her days often blended together, until good day dema came into production. jasmine was in charge of the show. well, not completely. there was always someone above her, it was dema after all. it was different. the set was filled with bright pastels. good day dema was created to dismiss the claims “clancy” made. propaganda. jasmine knew the was all an illusion, she’s seen the gray walls day after day. hell, one of the biggest rules about dema was no music. so it definitely surprised jasmine to hear they’re forcing tyler to write an entire album. jasmine knew deep down it was suspicious. but jasmine didn’t have a choice. jasmine didn’t have options, this was the life planned for her. jasmine didn’t know about anything else. sure, she’s heard of “the outside”. but this was her life, and she just accepted it because what else was she going to do?

jasmine was waiting backstage in a dressing room for tyler to show up. to be honest, she didn’t know much about him. jasmine knew he betrayed nico and escaped from dema. jasmine never read the letters or anything, it didn’t catch her interest. she often kept to herself the best she could. trying to get through each day. jasmine did feel bad that he was being forced to do this show, but she supposed there were worse ways to be punished. jasmine didn’t understand the severity of it all. oblivious of the reality. jasmine was snapped out of her thoughts as tyler walked into the room.

“hello tyler, i’m jasmine. i’ll be taking care of you today.”, she smiled reaching her hand out for him to shake. his face was blank, emotionless. which wasn’t unusual here in dema. there was never any true joy or any feelings around. just blank slates and coldness.

jasmine took in his appearance as he shook her hand. their brown eyes meeting briefly. she took interest in his soft brown curls. jasmine almost felt sad that she’d have to turn it into a bright pastel pink. she admired it for a moment before leading tyler over to a chair.

“okay so i have these two shades of pink, one is more softer and the other is brighter.”, jasmine held up the two bottles of dye to tyler. he looked confused.

“you’re asking me?”, tyler raised his eyebrow. jasmine laughed dryly at his skepticism.

“well yeah.. it’s your hair after all.”, but tyler wasn’t phased. he just rolled his eyes.

“just get this over with it.”, jasmine was a bit surprised by his short response. but jasmine understood he wasn’t too happy about the situation. they were both aware they had to make the bishops happy. they both didn’t have a say in anything. she mixed the bleach and began to lightly coat his hair. it was quiet at first, jasmine wasn’t much for conversation. she never knew how to start them.. or carry them. but she did know how to finish them.

“have you ever dyed your hair before?”, tyler spoke up. jasmine nodded her head.

“only a strand of my hair blue. that was before i was ordered to take it out.”, jasmine shared. she was happy tyler was trying to talk to her.

“blue is a pretty color.”, tyler commented.

“blue is my favorite color.”, jasmine smiled. it was hard having a favorite color that was pretty much forbidden. but the blue skies always spoke to jasmine. especially at night when the stars would light up. reminding her that she wasn’t alone at the end of the day. or the paladin strait she could see in the distance. tyler nodded, taking mental note of it. after jasmine finished with the bleach, it was quiet again. jasmine didn’t want to wait the 30 minutes in silence. so she decided to turn on the radio. though of course, the only songs it played were scaled and icy.

“sorry.. it must be weird hearing your own voice.”, jasmine laughed lightly. fidgeting with the silver bracelets on her wrist.

“it’s okay, i’m used to it.. i just wish they were MY songs.”, tyler sighed. jasmine was confused by this response.

“your songs?”

“well i made them, but these aren’t my thoughts.. my feelings. it’s what the bishops told me to sing.”, jasmine listened to tyler. that didn’t sound unusual for the bishops. jasmine was just happy she was able to actually enjoy music. jasmine felt bad for tyler, she could tell this was hard for him. tyler had songs that actually were true to him. but of course, they were absolutely forbidden here.

“well for what it’s worth, you have a great voice.”, jasmine complimented. which made tyler smile. jasmine spent the rest of the time listening to the album while she finished up on tyler’s hair. they actually had light conversations. it was the first time in god knows how long jasmine was able to actually enjoy a conversation with someone.

“here’s your mic pack, in-ears all that stuff. i’ll come back in 10 minutes before you go on.”, jasmine gestured over to the small vanity. as she was about to walk out, tyler spoke.

“jasmine, a gift from god.”, jasmine turned around. her name spoke a lot about her character. jasmine and tyler were on two entirely different ends of their place in dema. while tyler was this traitor, jasmine was highly praised. the bishops often favored her. though, jasmine was unsure why. she knew it had something to do with her family. they had a close history with the bishops. but jasmine knew it had to be more than that. her privilege was how she ended up being in charge of this whole production.

“yeah, why do you bring it up?”, jasmine raised her eyebrows. tyler just shrugged. tyler was taking into account how different they were; at least on that level. part of him wished he could leave dema WITH jasmine. to be able to show her the truth. but tyler wasn’t even sure he’d be able to leave again.

jasmine could hear in her own in ear she was needed somewhere. so she left tyler alone. eventually she came back to let him know it was 5 minutes before showtime. tyler was just sitting there, staring at the blank white wall. jasmine felt unusually sad for him. it was rare where she was put in situations where she felt these kinds of emotions. everytime she expressed them it didn’t end well. she was quite unsure how to handle it. but with tyler, she felt different. he was different. she sat on the couch next to tyler.

“pre-show jitters?”, jasmine suggested.

“i guess you can say that.”, jasmine gave tyler a small smile.

“i look forward to hearing you perform.”, jasmine’s eyes met tyler’s. there was a small spark. which was the first jasmine had seen. jasmine was normally intimated by eye contact. but with tyler, it didn’t feel threatening. both jasmine & tyler heard it was time to head up on set. jasmine could tell tyler was disappointed.

jasmine rushed around, making sure everything was perfect. she looked down at the checklist on her clipboard. on the leather couch was an older gentleman & woman. tyler barely mumbled a word to them. to be completely honest, even jasmine was confused on who these people were. but, jasmine knew better not to ask questions. not anymore. the countdown started for the show to air.

3.

2.

1.

i know it’s hard to believe me but it’s a good day.

jasmine watched as the bright lights shined on the golden set. the yellow coated walls were vibrant & would practically radiate off the screen. exactly how it was supposed to be. jasmine watched as the two hosts talked, and tyler sat in the middle. however, he didn’t even look up at the camera. it was almost as if he was trapped in his own head. tyler didn’t even react to the hosts comments about his band name. tyler was just.. there. jasmine knew tyler didn’t want to be there. but this didn’t feel right. jasmine couldn’t focus on that though. this was what the bishops wanted. this was her job. she had to stay focus. besides, he only had one song to sing. soon enough this would be over. jasmine went off to grab the scaled and icy discs for the hosts to advertise. when she came back, the hosts looked different. the had wounds on their faces that weren’t there before. jasmine didn’t have time to worry about that. she set up the merch table, and listened as tyler sang.

“i was born a choker.. no one’s coming for me.”

jasmine was almost entranced by his voice. sure, she didn’t know many songs to compare it to. but she always loved listening to tyler. his voice easing the stress and worry she was facing. she loved listening to scaled and icy, even if tyler wasn’t too fond of it. it brought her comfort. a rare thing for jasmine. there was a pause and that’s when she called over the hosts to the merch table. jasmine noticed their eyes were both yellow. it was off-putting to say the least. but she moved over off camera & waited for them to begin the commercial break. she walked over to tyler who now looked.. sad?

“hey, told you you’d do great.”, jasmine smiled at him. trying her best to make him feel better. tyler still looked down at the ground.

“are you happy here?”, tyler asked, looking into her eyes. it was a sudden question. but tyler needed to know where exactly jasmine’s head was at.

“what else is there?”, jasmine answered honestly.

“trench.”, tyler spoke again. it was engraved in jasmine’s’ mind that there was nothing outside the dema walls for her, or anyone. and people who escape are merely fools leading themselves to slaughter. that’s what she was taught.

“i have everything i need here.”, jasmine answered simply. though, it felt more as if she was reading off a script.

“i promise, there’s more than this. you can do better.”, tyler tried to explaining to her. but this wasn’t an easy thing for her to hear. how was she supposed to believe tyler?

“and yet you’re still here.”, jasmine replied coldly. tyler frowned, his sad demeanor creeping back. he knew trying to convince jasmine to leave everything behind would be difficult. but he has to try. tyler knew jasmine deserved better then whatever this shitty place had to offer. it was time for tyler to finish his part of the show. jasmine walked away off set. she was taking apart the merch table as tyler finished singing. letting tyler’s soft voice help bring her some peace.

CUT!

jasmine went to go dismiss everyone from the set, but as she walked up she saw the two hosts bodies laying on the ground. their faces now fully wounded and bruised. their skin much paler than it once was. jasmine’s stomach felt ill. they were dead. the two people who were just up hosting a morning show were lying dead on the floor.

BAM!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

hiiii guys!!^^ i hope you enjoyed the first part of this series. like ive mentioned, this will be a shorter story if you will, however ive been very into the lore & stuff. plus im a big maladaptive daydreamer so!!! i’ll try my best to update when i can! thank you for reading it means so much!!!:3

- v 🩶

[artzyleen]

TOP feat. Sebastian Sallow ✨

this took a while to edit but there we go ~

~ my Masterlist ~

[yourimagines]

masterlist music

Started: 10/04/24

Last updated: 19/06/24

Total works: 8

Masterlist Sports Sports 2.0 Sports 3.0

Masterlist Movies/Series

Masterlist Youtubers/Influencers

Twenty one pilots

💕Imagines💕

pressure

Louis Tomlinson

💕Imagines💕

Loving you

What he like's about you

Harry Styles

💕Imagines💕

Don't let me go

What he like's about you

Niall horan

💕Imagines💕

What he like's about you

Liam Payne

💕Imagines💕

What he likes about you

Zayn Malik

💕Imagines💕

What he like's about you

[absolutown]

Masterlist 🇺🇲🇧🇷

Brandon Flowers

1 - 🌹🇺🇸 | 🌹🇧🇷

2 -🌹🇺🇲 | 🌹🇧🇷

3 -🌹🇺🇸 | 🌹🇧🇷

4 -🌹🇺🇸 | 🌹🇧🇷

Matthew Bellamy

1 - 🌹🇺🇸 | 🌹🇧🇷

2 -🌹🇺🇸 | 🌹🇧🇷

3 -🌹🇺🇸 | 🌹🇧🇷

4 -🌹🇺🇸 | 🌹🇧🇷

Tyler Joseph

1 - 🌹🇺🇸 | 🌹🇧🇷

2 -🌹🇺🇸 | 🌹🇧🇷

[j-jinxee]

JOSH THOUGHTS -☆

NSFW under the cut! [warnings - general sex thoughts]

Thinking about Josh, how he can't keep his hands to himself. How fucking good it'd feel with just his hands, all over you. The way he touches you like no other, how he holds you all night, whether that be through unconsciousness or through an orgasm. He's so good at getting you to focus on nothing but him, your senses immediately crowded by every aspect of him. His hands lace every inch of your body while you desperately plead for him to stop teasing and just fuck you already.

And when he finally does, holy fuck he's so pretty. No matter much he makes you blush, how much you wanna look away, you just can't. You're completely infatuated with him as he hits all the perfect spots, so deep inside you. You see his pupils blow wider with each thrust, completely hypnotised by the feeling. Your hands find their way to his toned back, leaving rough red marks as your nails drag down his skin. The sight of his arms and shoulders flexing as he keeps himself hovering over you, it only gets you closer and closer. He's slow — and deep, only ever fucking you hard and fast if you ask him to. He prefers the intimacy of slowly working you to the edge while you're fixated on his eyes and the uneven rhythm of his breathing.

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

I like this style of just like yapping instead of like full one shots yk lmao I'm just lazy 🫶🏻🫶🏻 anyway new TØP song soon woohoooo

[canadianfangirl-95]

Window of Opportunity 

Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader 

Summary: Years spent with the wrong guy leaves you desperate for true love and single again. Will Frankie be able to squeeze into the window of opportunity and confess his feelings, or will he miss his shot again?

Warnings: swearing, deadbeat boyfriend, talks of infidelity, drinking, friends to lover’s, fluff, kissing 

Picture is just for the banner, does not indicate readers appearance.

Word Count: 6k+ 

“Alright it’s Thirsty Thursday guys, what can I get you?” You say with a smile spread across your face, staring at your favourite customers and some of your best friends, Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. They themselves have been coming into this bar for 6 years, after they were all discharged from the army and relocated to Fort Lauderdale. You’ve worked at this bar for almost 8 years now, having gotten the job in your mid-twenties to make some extra cash. It was only supposed to be temporary but here you are all these years later, still with an apron wrapped around your waist, a pen tucked behind your ear and shuffling around behind the old wood bar, illuminated by the neon beer signs. 

Santi offers you a kind wink as he settles onto the bar stool across from you, “Just a Rum and Coke sweetheart.” His effervescent smile shining as bright as always.  

Nodding, you begin to make the drink, while Benny and Will offer up their orders. Finally, Frankies sweet brown eyes meet yours and your lungs feel a bit lighter. “And what about our pilot?” you ask sweetly.  

He grins just enough for some of his teeth to peek out below his mustache and tucks his hand under his chin, “Surprise me Skip.”  

Smirking, you begin to whip him up your favourite and slide it over to him on the bar.  

Taking it, he smiles, “Should’ve guessed it’d be a Whisky Sour.” 

“Hey, pick your own drinks if you don’t like my favourite.” You say with a huffed laugh, knowing that despite them not being his type of drink, he’ll sip it down anyway. “How has your week been?” 

“Good, picked up Camila from JK on Monday so now she’s with me until next week Friday morning. She’s having some much-needed Abuela time right now.” 

“That’s good, everything still good with Liv?” You ask intently. 

He shrugs, “Yeah I’d say so, we’re doing pretty well at the whole coparenting thing now that negotiations are over.”  

You reach over and pat his hand that rests on the bar top, “Good, you’re a good dad Frankie. I’m glad you’re able to enjoy her again.”  

His ears and cheeks grow red, and his eyes soften, he whispers to you, “Thanks Skip, couldn’t do it without you.”  

Pulling your lips into a tight smile, you bat your lashes a bit to relax and turn your attention back to the rest of the group, “So, Will, how was the trip? Did you pick a venue?” 

Will nods, “Yeah, Orange County is really beautiful. It was tough picking just one place to have the wedding at, but we put a deposit down on a winery, so now we have a date which is great.” He says with a smile plastered across his face.  

“Oh, that’s great, Wendy must be so excited. Especially since it can be so close to her family.” You say before you notice the server drop down some chits on the other end of the bar. “Oh, I’ll be back guys.” You say before departing down the bar to work on the new orders.  

Later, you are standing cutting limes in front of the men, talking and laughing causally when the bell on the door chimes again. You look up, seeing your boyfriend Marcus step through the door and scan the room for you. The rest of the group turn their heads slightly to see what has caught your attention.  

Frankie grumbles to himself as he peers over his drink to see your boyfriend strutting towards the bar. His overbuilt muscles and $50 hair cut speak volumes about his personality. “Why’s Marcus here?” 

Will nudges his shoulder with a shush, Frankies eyes widen slightly realizing his voice was a tad bit higher than it should have been. Luckily for him, you had already moved down the bar towards Marcus. “He’s here to see his girlfriend, idiot. Why wouldn’t he be here?” Will says sarcastically.  

“He only visits her at work when he needs money.” Frankie states matter-of-factly under his breath.  

“That’s none of your business man, play nice.”  

With that Frankie rolls his eyes and stares Santi down the bar with an annoyed look on his face. Santi nods and takes his hint. Standing from the stool he calls over to you, “Hey Skip, we’re gonna be at the pool table.” The rest of them follow his lead and stand with their drinks to head over to the other side of the room.  

You nod and smile at them before turning your attention back to Marcus.  

“Why do they call you Skip anyway?” Marcus asks, leaning his body weight on the bar top.  

You shrug and smile to yourself, “One time, they were the only ones in the bar, like it was completely dead, and so we played Uno. The guys were such assholes every time it was one of their turns before me, they played a skip card. I swear I got every skip a turn card the whole night.” You say, laughing slightly until you see the utterly unamused face of your boyfriend staring back at your explanation. Swallowing your laughter quickly you clear your throat, “Um, and so yeah, they just call me Skip now because of uh…’cuz of that.”  

His face hangs low with uninterest, “Huh, guess you didn’t get many tips that night huh?” 

Pulling your face tight you reply, “No, I guess not.” 

“Does that happen often? Maybe you should find a different place to work where you can make more money.”  

“Um, no it doesn’t happen a lot. I think there was a storm that day.” You say quietly before stepping to the side to grab your wallet. “So, uh- how much did you say you needed for this football thing again?” 

He rolls his eyes exasperated, “Babe, it’s my fraternity brothers NFL fantasy league, it’s not just some football thing. And the buy in is $200.”  

Your eyebrows pop up, “Geeze, that’s kind of steep, isn’t it?”  

“It’s not about that, it’s about the networking I do with it, alright?” Marcus says. 

Nodding, you hand him the cash from your wallet, and he takes it with a giant smile, “Thanks babe, you’re the best you know that right?” He says before leaning across the bar and planting a kiss on your cheek.  

You say your goodbyes and wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding.  

Across the room, Frankie watches you fidget after your uncomfortable meeting with your boyfriend. He stands near the pool table holding his stick standing straight up and leaning some weight on it. “What is she still doing with that guy?” He asks the group. 

Benny huffs, “Wish I knew. Every time we hang out it’s always Marcus did this, and Marcus won’t do that. It’s like she’s his mom”  

Will steps up to the table and leans forward to take his shot, “He seriously doesn’t mind the two of you hanging out as much as you do?” 

“Nope, she even asked him before the first time we went to the movies if it was okay, and the guy is so fucking full of himself he said there’s no way she would ever find better than him, so he doesn’t worry about her cheating at all. In fact, one time he even thanked me for “listening to all her bull shit” so he doesn’t have to.” He says with air quotes and a sarcastic tone. 

Santi shakes his head, “What a dick. Why won’t she just end it with him?” 

Benny steps up to the red-felt pool table and eyes his shot that his brother has set up for him by accident. “Oh, she’s still holding out hope that he’ll man up and pop the question and then things will be better. Not gonna happen though, I think he’s cheating.”  

With that Frankie straightens up, “Why do you say that?” 

“He’s shady as shit, she works evenings and a lot of weekends, you think an asshole like that is really just waiting around for her watching Game of Thrones by himself every night?” 

“So, you don’t have any proof then?” Will comments. 

“Well, don’t tell her I told you this. But a few months ago, she got a DM from a girl that she knows, claiming he was hitting on her at a bar across town. But this girl knew Skip and recognized him from her social media, so she turned him down and messaged her. When Skip asked him about it, he said he wasn’t hitting on her, he was just trying to make some female friends, since you know, she has so many male friends.” he says, pointing around the pool table at the group of them and shaking his head at the obvious lie.  

They all groan in response and look over at you at the bar, working tirelessly to pay for yourself and your deadbeat boyfriends’ lifestyle. All the while he’s probably sneaking around behind your back and then dipping in to steal a kiss and some cash. 

 

Behind the bar, you stare blankly at the faucet on the sink, seeing your angled reflection in it. Your face looks sad, your eyes tired and your heart sunken. All you want, all you’ve ever wanted, was a relationship, an engagement, a marriage, a house and a family. It’s what you grew up in, it’s what your sister has. The white picket fence, the husband that kisses her at the door when he gets home, the two beautiful children she chases around all day. In your early twenties, it seemed like something that was guaranteed. Then it was just disappointing man after another until you finally found yourself on a date with Marcus 6 years ago. He was handsome and charming, and after a year you settled into a nice routine. But year after year you asked for a ring and never got one. One thing you could control was the house, so you saved everything you had to buy both of you one, thinking that would kickstart the conversation again. Yet here you are, a cold finger and your love for a man long gone, but 6 years too long invested in the relationship to bow out now.  

Grabbing a washcloth, you decide to take out your frustrations through cleaning up the bar top, using all the bent-up anger you felt towards your life to scrub off that damn stain you’ve never been able to get off. You peer up through your lashes and see the guys at the pool table, seemingly in deep discussion. You wonder if they’re shit talking your boyfriend. You wouldn’t blame them if they were, you wish you could join them. Frankie rounds the table and bends over to take his shot. His t shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, his curly locks peeking out from underneath the baseball hat you loved to see him in. Frankie, a man who actually talked about wanting a marriage one day but lost it all when his girlfriend fell in love with someone at work. He says they were mostly together for their child that they had accidentally gotten pregnant with and that he could move on. Not seeing his baby girl every day was by far the hardest part for him.  

Frankie was different than the others to you. Santi was your advice guy, always offering his words of wisdom. Will was your hands on guy. Need your breaks done on your car? Will’s got it. Need an Ikea cabinet put together? Will’s on it. Benny is your bestie, your movie and sushi date guy. Your talk shit about your boyfriend guy. But Frankie, Frankie is your if things were different guy. If you weren’t with Marcus, if he was ever even interested in you. Maybe, he could be something more, just by the way you talk so earnestly with one another, you knew he would never treat you the way Marcus does. And boy was he cute. You wish you felt bad when you would find yourself thinking about him late at night instead of your boyfriend laying a foot away from you. You figure after his failed relationship he is probably done with anything serious, maybe just date casually for the next few years and then settle down with someone as a companion. Surely, he wouldn’t be interested in learning about how lovesick you are over him and ruining your friendship and his favourite hangout-. 

A hand suddenly grabs yours to hold it still as you look up and see Frankie looking at you with concerned eyes. You look back down at the bar and see that during your whole internal monologue, you had still been scrubbing the stain and now the pain in your wrist was starting to register just how aggressive you were being with it. Pulling your hand out of his grip you toss the rag into the bucket and slowly rub your wrist with your hand, avoiding eye contact with the man across from you.  

He breathes deeply out of his nose and grabs some of the paper towel you have on the counter to wipe up the soap and water on the spot. He pulls a half smirk and looks at you, “Looks like you finally got that stain huh?”  

You peer over and see that it is indeed gone, certainly needed some elbow grease.  

“You okay?” he asks. The very last question you want to answer right now.  

Doing your best impression of a girl who is going to be okay, you nod and suck your teeth before muttering out, “Yeah, yeah just, - really fucking hated that stain.”  

Frankie can see the tears that want to spill over your eyes, knowing you the way he does, he knows very well that you do not want to lose it right there behind the bar. “Alright well, could I get another delicious Whisky Sour please?” he says with a boyish grin on his face. 

Looking up at him through your lashes you let out a chuckle, “I thought you didn’t like them.”  

“People change.” He states.  

His words dry your throat, and you do your best to nod and go on making his drink. Hoping his statement to be true.  

The night wears on and you say your goodbyes. You close up shop and head home to Marcus, playing every moment of the night through again in your head and hoping to make that people change statement a reality, whether it be you or Marcus.  

Sunday is your day off, and you and the guys planned a backyard BBQ at Will and Wendys to commemorate the end of summer. 

Frankie steps through the patio doors into the backyard. A red and white striped umbrella is stretched out over the patio table and chairs where Santi is seated comfortably talking with Wendy while Will works on the grill. He moves to sit down across from Santi and says hello to everyone.  

Wendy excuses herself to go work on the salad for dinner, and Frankie stares at the door she exits through, hoping you may come through it. Alas, you still don’t show up after another ten minutes, so he turns to Santi. 

“When are uh, Ben and Skip getting here?” Frankie asks, urging his voice to sound less eager than it does.  

Santi gives him a knowing look, “Ben told Will yesterday they may be a bit late cuz Ben had to go out of town this afternoon to pick up some stuff from their moms, she went with him for the drive.”  

Frankie nods and brings his cold beer to his lips, excited at the notion that Marucs won’t be joining them after all.  

A half hour later, Frankie, Santi and Will are seated at the patio table as Wendy finishes up in the kitchen. Their attention is pulled from their conversation when they hear Bennys boisterous voice call out to her as he moves through the kitchen and to the sliding patio door.  

“No Skip?” Santi calls out, as he notices Bennys lonely walk towards them. Frankie and Will look up from their plates of appetizers to observe your apparent absence for themselves. 

The younger man has a surprisingly pleased look on his face as he slides into the chair next to Will. “You’re never gonna believe this. They broke up.” He states with excitement burning behind his eyes.  

The group looks perplexed for a beat, Will asks to clarify “Who broke up?” 

“Skip and Marcus.” Benny says, popping his eyebrows up and down and nudging Frankie’s shoulder.  

Frankie’s eyes blow wide, unable to believe what he was hearing. His ears ring and before he knows it, he’s lost part of the conversation, gripping his beer bottle tighter he tries to focus on the flow of questions coming Bennys way from Will and Santi. 

Santi leans forward on the glass tabletop, “What happened?” 

“She finally had enough. I guess she tried to talk to him again last night about getting engaged and just like all the other times, he made up shitty excuses, so she dumped him right there on the spot. Took all her shit and is staying with her sister right now until they get the house sold and her money back. She called me this morning to tell me she couldn’t come today.” 

“How’s she doing? She okay?” Will asks, concern growing in his voice.  

Shrugging, Benny replies, “As good as she can be, I think. They were together a long time, and she feels like it was all wasted. He’s such a jackass.” He says before shoving some chips from a bowl on the table into his mouth. 

Will glances at Frankie, “So Fish, girl of your dreams finally single. What do you think about that?”  

His eyebrows almost get caught in his hair line and he stutters, “I uh- what. Don’t know what you’re talking about Will.” he says, trying to slurp down his beer before he puts his foot in his mouth instead. 

Shaking his head he dives deeper, “Don’t give me that shit man, we owe nothing to that guy. You’ve always liked her, you’ve been respectful, but now she’s fair game.”  

Santi nods along, “Yeah, we all know man. It’s pretty obvious.” 

Benny and Will nod along to Santis’ statement as Frankie looks around flabbergasted. “Seriously? Does she know?” 

“Nah, I don’t think so. She’s been too caught up in her own shit to notice.” Benny confirms.  

“But now’s the time to make a move, alright? Don’t let the window of opportunity close. Girls like that don’t stay single long.” Santi comments, giving Frankie a stern look.  

Frankie nods, “I can’t just ask her out the day after her relationship ended, she needs time to process this. I don’t want to be a rebound. I’ll let her sell the house, get her shit together, and then I promise I’ll talk to her.” He says defensively.  

“You better, because I’m not listening to her complain about another shitty boyfriend for half a decade.” Benny says, tapping his hand on the table and peering up at the sky, thinking about all the nights he’s had to hear you cry about how Marcus wouldn’t commit to you, even your house was bought by you, him not wanting to invest too much of his savings in case it didn’t work out between the two of you.  

“I don’t think any of us want to see her go through that again, and Frankie man, you’d be perfect together. I hope it works out for you.” Will says, reaching over to pat Frankie on the chest.  

Frankie nods, “How do I do this without looking like a total jackass who just wants to take advantage of her vulnerable state though?” he asks inquisitively.  

Santi shakes his head, “Frankie, Frankie, always counting yourself out before you get in the game. Any girl would be lucky to get a man like you, just have some faith in yourself alright?” 

Before they can continue the conversation, Wendy waltzes up to the table with salads in tow. “Alright everybody, time to dig in.” 

Thursday comes around again; you have switched shifts with the other bartender for a very exciting reason. Each of the guys had reached out in their own ways after they got the news on Sunday, simple texts and calls here and there, all trying to be as delicate as possible. 

Skipping through the door, you make your way over to the booth the guys are situated at. Santi spots you first and gestures to you for the rest of the group to turn and look. They all grin when they see your smile, your hair done exactly how you like it best, a white sundress with brown flowers and brown sandals finishing off the look. Frankies eyes light up seeing your sunny appearance and blossoming self-confidence.  

“Whoa, what are you all dressed up for?” Santi whistles, taking in your ensemble. 

Smiling brightly, you stand in front of the booth and state, “I have a date.”  

Their faces drop entirely, and Frankie can swear you could hear his heart fall to the floor and roll down between the booths like a child dropping candy in church.  

Will is the first to pick his jaw up from his chest and stutter out, “A date?”  

Nodding you reply, “Yep, I’m meeting him soon for drinks and appetizers but I needed to swing by here first for my pay cheque.”  

Santi waves his hands casually in the air as he formulates a question. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon, I mean, you and Marcus broke up last week.”  

“I know, I know trust me I’ve heard it already from my sister. But I’m not really grieving the relationship ‘cuz to be honest, I fell out of love with Marcus a long time ago, but I just had already invested all that time and energy, so I wanted to make it work. But, since he’s a total asshat, I have now had no choice but to move on and there’s no time like the present. I don’t want to have wasted 6 years with him and then 6 months waiting for the “right time” to start dating again and then another 2 years trying to meet the right person.” You take a deep breath, trying not to get too worked up over your current situation and pinch your eyes closed for a moment. “I just want…. All I’ve wanted this whole time is a marriage and a family and I’m frankly running out of time. So, I hopped on the dating apps and met this guy Sean, and now we’re going on a first date and then I guess we’ll see what happens from there.” You finish your sentence out of breath and out of options. If Marcus wasn’t your person, and you were too scared to see if Frankie would be interested in you, then this would have to do. 

Frankie can’t believe his ears. He’s already missed the window of opportunity. You’re going to go on a date with this guy, he’s going to fall madly in love with you, because how could he not and whether you like him or not, you’ll stay with him another 6 years just like Marcus. You just want it so badly, that you’ve grown careless with your heart. His stomach is turning in his seat as he tries not to look at Santi, whose eyes he can feel burning into him with a plea to stop this madness.  

The uncomfortable silence finally creeps through your skin and makes you eager to leave. Their shocked and unapproving faces with no acknowledgement of what you have said has you unsettled and honestly kind of annoyed. Looking over your shoulder, you spot your manager and nod to her briefly. “Well, um, I’m gonna go get my cheque and then head out.” Turning quickly, you miss the way their heads all spin to Frankie whose mouth still lay low.  

Benny finally speaks once you are out of ear shot, “What the fuck?” He throws his hands into his hair and looks around the table dumbstruck.  

Will is shaking his head and chewing his bottom lip, Santi is still looking at Frankie as if trying to use secret superpowers to control his body and make him rush after you. Frankie is silent, picking at the label on his cold beer as the condensation loosens the adhesive on the fish picture laden across the front.  

Santi finally breaks his stare and leans in closer, “You gonna do anything about this Fish?” 

Frankie shrugs, “Nothing I can do. You heard her, she’s moving on.”  

“From Marcus, not from you.”  

“Same difference.” He sighs, blowing all the air and joy out of his lungs.  

Shaking his head Santi straightens up in his seat. “No, it’s not the same man. She has no idea you have feelings for her and I’m willing to bet if you told her to cancel that date, she would in a heartbeat.” 

Shaking his head he sighs, “You don’t know that man, what if I fall flat on my face with her. There’s no going back.”  

Will leans his elbows on the table, “Fish, you gotta start believing in yourself more. I know what happened with Liv was really hard on you but-,” 

“But it wasn’t.” Frankie states. Upon being met with the confused eyes of his comrades he continues with shaky breathes, “It wasn’t hard. I liked Liv, felt something similar to love at times when it was easy, but it wasn’t hard when she left, because she wasn’t Skip.” His voice trails off with his confession.  

The familiar sound of your sandals hitting the hard wood floors snaps the group out of their trance, they turn to look at you with desperate eyes, unsure what to say as you stop for a beat in front of them.  

“Alright well, got my cheque.” You say awkwardly, raising the envelope up slightly in your hand. “You guys have a good night.” You tuck your chin down and don’t wait for their goodbyes. They’re being completely weird after all, gawking at you with open mouths like it’s the worst mistake of your life to go on this date.  

Stepping through the bar door you’re hit with the humidity of a late summer night. The sun was already setting leaving a low glow across the sky. You stand for a second, squeezing your eyes and urging the thoughts of Frankie out of your mind in an effort to stop the trickle of tears that would surely flow if you let yourself convince yourself that this wasn’t a mistake. Convince yourself you should go back in that bar and put it all on the line, even if it meant you’d fall with no safety net and lose him for good. That just wasn’t your style though, you didn’t free fall, you didn’t trust the universe. You needed certainty, and right now, the only certainty was that there was a handsome guy, who actually expressed interest in you waiting at a different bar, ready and willing to give you a shot. Taking one last look over your shoulder, you let your breath out and head to your vehicle.  

Frankie and the guys sit in silence, unsure what to do now. He watched as you left, desperate to follow and grab your wrist to spin you around and plant a seething kiss to your luscious lips.  

Benny takes a deep breath in and out, settling his head against the back of the booth. “That girl, Frankie, is worth the ifs, ands or buts. You know that, I know that, and I’m willing to bet she would agree.” 

Before Frankie can respond, the bartender that is covering for you, Tasha, hurries up to the table with a black notebook in hand. “Hey, did she leave already?” 

Santi nods, “Uh, yeah just. Why what’s up?” 

Tasha huffs, “She forgot her day planner again, would one of you be able to drop it off? I know she needs it before her next shift.” She asks. 

Frankie clears his throat and nods, “Yeah, no problem, Tash I’ll get it to her.” He says, leaning forward and taking the book out of her hands.  

She says thank you and swiftly heads back to the bar to greet the hoard of customers who have just stumbled through. 

Frankie stares absentmindedly at the worn book, pages from old day planners ripped out of their books and stuffed into this one instead of rewriting all the phone numbers and addresses you have in it. Quietly he passes it back and forth in his hands, a million thoughts running through his mind when it slips and falls down onto the table, some of the pages slipping out and exposing themselves in front of him. The guys look on with confused faces as Frankies face falls while he reads one of the faded and crinkled pages in front of him.  

Santi is the first to express his interest, “What’s that?” 

Taking a deep gulp, he picks up the piece of paper to examine it closer. Upon being sure that it says what he thinks it says, he slowly turns it around and slides it into the middle of the table for the guys to read. They all lean in and fall silent to see what has their friend so shocked.  

Frankie 555-666-7777 

baseball hat  

bar 

cutest guy ever?  

Update to self- definitely cutest guy ever 

He looks down at the book on the table, and thinks to himself, would it be wrong to go through it. Yes, it definitely would be, but he has to know if there’s anything else you’ve written about him it.  

Before the guys can get their “heys” and waits” out, he is opening up the cover and sifts through the pages. His ears start to ring as week after week contain the same notations. 

Lunch with Frankie <3 

Taking Frankie shopping to get news boots <3 

Borrowing Frankies truck <3 

No hearts beside Bennys name, Santis, Wills, or even Marcus’. He keeps flipping through the disheveled pages until he finds himself at the end of the book where the note pages are. “Fuuuck me.” Comes out of his mouth quietly as his whole world begins to spin, seeing a daily checklist you wrote out for yourself.  

Getting through the day, one step at a time. 

drink your water  

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count 

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it 

talk to Frankie <3 

He drops the book ceremoniously for the others to peer over and read as well. A grin spreads across Wills face as he pats Frankie's shoulder. “Alright man, no more excuses. What are you gonna do now?”  

Staring straight ahead with a sense of determination and wonder Frankie mutters, “I’m gonna go get my girl.” 

“Yeah!” Benny sounds as the others clap along and smile with Frankie.  

He thinks for a second, “Shit, did she say where she’s going?” he asks in a panic. 

Santi’s eyebrows pop up, “Oh, check todays date in the planner.” He says, pointing back to the book, seemingly the solution to all their problems that night.  

Frankie points his finger at his friend to acknowledge his good idea before grabbing the weathered book back into his hands and flitting through the pages to today’s date. He scans the week to Thursday and taps the page when he finds the notation. “9pm drinks with Sean, The Green Door.” He smirks to himself at the notice of no heart once again.  

“Green Door? That’s over on Park Street, right?” Benny asks. 

Will nods, “Yeah like a 5-minute drive, you better get going man.”  

Letting a deep breath out Frankie blinks quickly, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He pushes past Santi in the booth and quickly pats his pockets to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Okay, I uh, I guess here I go.”  

“Go get her Fish!” Santi calls as Frankie begins to step away. Before Frankie suddenly finds himself turning in his spot and standing desperately back at the booth. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” He asks with eyes wild.  

Benny scoffs, “Just say whatever you’ve been practicing in your head for the last 6 years and I’m sure it will be fine. Now go or I’ll kick your ass!” He swats at him playfully.  

With that Frankie gives them one last look of gratitude and jogs out the bar towards his truck, throwing it in gear and peeling out of the parking lot as quickly as the law will let him.  

After leaving work, you stop at a gas station to fill your tank. Standing at the pump you lean against the cool metal of your car and sigh. This new chapter of your life was daunting to say the least, no matter how optimistic you tried to feel about it, no matter how many fake smiles you had to put on for your sister, no matter how many cute guys messaged you on the app. You hear the click of the full tank signal and finish up, sliding back into your car and putting on some Taylor Swift to hopefully boost your mood on the drive over.  

Stepping out of your car, you look up at the neon sign above the green door. Sean had texted you on the drive over that he was there and grabbed a quiet table at the back. You smooth out your sundress to make sure it’s not sticking to the back of your thighs, thank you humidity and leather seats for that, and make your way over to the entrance.  

You hear the sound of a vehicle door slamming shut heavily and then the sound of boots sprinting against the pavement just as you are about to pull at the handle.  

“Skip wait!” 

Turning you look back and see none other than Frankie jogging up the sidewalk towards you nearly out of breath.  

“Frankie? What are you doing here?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed as you peer over his shoulder to see if he is alone.  

Stopping in front of you he tries to catch his breath, “You can’t, - you, - you can’t go on this date.” He stutters out, trying to pull his shoulders square as he calms himself down.  

Feeling utterly bewildered by his statement you ask, “Why not?” 

He takes a deep breath and stares down directly into your soul. “You can’t because, well, I’m in love with you.”  

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your face and your breath hitches, unable to speak.  

He continues, noticing your shock. “I know, I know. This is probably not something you expected, because I’ve done my best to keep it locked away while you were with Marcus, and I was with Liv. But you’re not with him anymore, and I was never in love with Liv. I couldn’t have been, not when you were already taking up so much room in my heart. My heart is split right down the middle. It’s Camila, and it’s you. Has been for years now, there’s just no room for anyone else right now.” Gesturing to the green door beside you he continues. “This guy, I’m sure he’s nice or whatever, but I know you. I know you better than I know myself and I just, I love you. I do, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, but I just need you to know, before you meet someone else. Before I miss that damn window of opportunity.” 

Taking a big gulp of air he finishes, looking down and embarrassed at his confession, fearing to look you in the eyes and see nothing but pity.  

“Frankie.” You whisper.  

He looks up to meet your gaze, and his heart thumps harder in his chest when he sees the tears welling up in your eyes and the way you have to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking into the biggest smile he’s ever seen.  

Clearing your throat, you find the courage to speak. “I love you too Frankie.” You say, finally allowing the smile to crack your cheeks.  

Frankie's grins goofily and his eyes light up, “Really? Since when?” 

Shrugging you admit, “Since I fell out of love with Marcus. So, years ago.”  

“Huh, never thought I’d want to thank that son a bitch for being such a useless boyfriend.” He jokes.  

You giggle and nod before noticing his face has suddenly changed into something of longing and he inches closer to you.  

Bringing his hands to your warm arms, he slides them up and down and looks down earnestly at you. “Can I kiss you baby?” he whispers.  

Looking into his deep brown eyes you part your lips and nod, “Yes, Frankie, please. I’ve waited too long for this.”  

He slowly leans down, his hands trailing up your arms to cup your face before gently pressing his lips to yours. His lips are plush and soft and move with such care. You bring your hands to his back and pull him slightly closer. He grins before encapsulating your mouth again in a seething kiss, poking his tongue through your teeth to lick into you. A moan vibrates through your throat.  

Before you can really get out of hand, a sound of “Whoops” and cheers sounds from the parking lot beside you and you both break to turn to look at the commotion. A large black truck with Will, Benny and Santi hanging out of the windows and sunroof with devilish grins on their faces is what your shocked and embarrassed faces are met with.  

“Oh gosh.” You laugh to yourself as you turn your body into Frankie's, he instinctively pulls you in close and wraps an arm around your back to shield you from the eyes of your obnoxious friends.  

“Seriously guys? Can’t you let me do anything on my own?” He calls over to them with his free hand raised. 

Santi laughs and retorts, “Had to make sure you didn’t bitch out man! Looks like we came at the right time though otherwise we would’ve been picking you two up from the jail for public indecency.”  

Will and Benny laugh before Benny calls out, “Alright guys, I think we’ve embarrassed them enough. We’re going back to my place for pizza if you two love birds wanna join.” 

You peel your face off Frankie's warm and firm chest and shrug, “I could go for some pizza.” 

He smiles and nods, before taking your chin in his fingers and pulling you closer for one more sweet kiss. “Sounds good to me, I’ll meet you there, okay?” he says once he has sufficiently sucked the smile off your face. 

“Okay.” You say and break apart from his hold. He swiftly takes your hand and walks you to your car, opening and closing the door behind you with a boyish smile on his face.  

You settle into your car and watch him as his tight little butt saunters over to his truck. You bite your lip before pulling out your phone and bringing up your messages. 

Sean: Hey just checking if you’re alright. 

You: Hey, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna have to cancel. Something came up, and I don’t think it’s gonna work out between us. It was nice chatting with you. Have a good night.  

Your phone pings before you put it back in your purse, you’re expecting it to be a disappointing text from Sean, but your eyes light up when you see the name on the notification.  

Frankie: *photo of the checklist in your day planner* 

Getting through the day, one step at a time. 

drink your water 

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count 

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it 

talk to Frankie <3   kiss Frankie <3  

Check! 

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Hello. It’s me, anonymous (yes. I am the person who submitted the torchbearer request. That was amazing by the way! You’re an amazing writer!).

I feel bad asking for another TØP one shot (another Josh one on top of that), but I was wondering if you could do a fluffy one where Josh teaches the reader to play the drums a little bit everyday after soundcheck for the Clancy tour, but they don’t tell Tyler (no reason. They just want to mess with him). You can end it however you want, but I think it would be cute Tyler accidentally interrupts a cute moment Josh and the reader are having.

You don’t have to follow this exactly (or at all), I just think it’s cute. Only if you want to of course.

Drum lessons - Josh Dun x Reader

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: None! Super fluffy <3

A/N: Dude I love tøp and have been waiting for someone to just throw requests my way so NEVER feel bad for requesting tøp. They’re my main fandom anyways and no one has been requesting them so ily 🤟 I'd love to assign you an anon emoji so I know who my anons are so let me know which one you want next time you request. And keep requesting! I write for both Josh and Tyler (and I love Josh a lot so keep them coming!)

I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d watched Josh play drums and wondered how on earth he managed to get each of his limbs to move at different speeds. I’d played guitar before, and I understood how piano worked, but drums just left me clueless. The boys had been practising for the Clancy tour for a few days, and it was the last day before we travelled to Denver. Tyler had gone to get changed and shower before driving home, but Josh and I stayed behind to talk to Mark and film some stuff. The red drum kit sat alone on the stage. I stared at it before sitting behind it and holding the sticks.

“Look at you!” Josh laughed. I smiled brightly at him. “Well if you’re gonna be behind the kit at least play me something.” I hit the snare, kick, and cymbals making a loud (and awful) sound. I burst out laughing, knowing it sounded terrible yet I was thoroughly enjoying myself. 

“I should replace you as the drummer shouldn’t I?” I grinned. He walked up behind me, holding me in a backwards hug. Pressing his lips to my cheek, he whispered “Not quite.” I looked around to see the crew were all gone. “I could teach you though.” He had to be joking. Yeah, I could play guitar and was interested in what Josh did, but he was crazy to think I had the coordination even to play something basic. 

“Haha funny,” I smirked, putting the sticks down and getting up. 

“No, seriously,” he followed quickly behind me as I grabbed my stuff and headed to our car. “It would be something cool for us to do together on tour. Tyler normally leaves after soundcheck to hang with Jenna and the kids. We’d have time.” He was right. I really did want to learn to play drums; they’d always fascinated me. “Come on… it would be fun,” Josh enticed, getting into the car. 

“Yeah, okay,” I nodded, “let’s do it.” 

The first ‘session’ was a disaster. He’d attempted to get me to do a ‘basic’ drum beat he called some complicated name I’d forgotten the name of by the time I sat down. 

“No, no, like this.” He hit one of the drums before stopping to let me try. I’d just stayed to get it before we were told to get off stage. “You’ll get it next time y/n, trust me,” Josh reached for my hand and led me down the halls of the venue. 

“Why don’t we just choose a pilots’ song and you teach me that? Surely there’s an easy one?” I asked. He perked up in excitement. 

“Yeah, that’s a great idea. Routines isn’t too hard, we could even get out up on stage once you get it down,” he smiled. There was no way on earth that would ever happen. 

“Sure Josh, sure,” I rolled my eyes. 

A few sessions later I was starting to get the handle of it. Josh would play the track on his phone and tell me which drums to hit and when until I remembered what to do. 

“Kick, snare, kick, kick, kick, snare. Oh, and remember to keep hitting the high hat the whole time.” I continued to play the song while Josh air drummed and Tyler’s voice played in the background. “Yes! There you go!” I flashed him a smile as I hit the last drumbeat in the song. Josh snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his lips to mine. I kissed him back, cupping his jaw and smiling into the kiss. Josh’s baseball cap brushed against my forehead as we pulled away. I pull it off him and put it on backwards, just like him. 

“Drums are actually kinda fun.”

“Of course they are. I told you, you could do it,” he still held me close in his arms, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” I brushed one of his loose curls out of his face, wondering how lucky I was to have him. He turned his head into my hand, pressing his lips to my palm. “You’re my favourite person.” The curtains backstage ruffled as Tyler stepped out onto the stage. 

“Josh you’re still practicing? I thought we finished soundcheck,” he shouted, running across the venue to the B-stage drum island. “We already did Routines.” Tyler was dressed in his first tour outfit, holding the Clancy mask in his hand. Josh rested his head in the crook of my neck as he looked at Tyler. “Oh shoot, sorry,” Tyler smiled awkwardly, realizing the position we were in, “I didn’t realise you were uh… what was it you were doing?” I waited for Josh to say something, but he stayed quiet. Tyler waited patiently for either of us to answer the question. “Wait, was y/n playing?” A more confident smile spread across his face. Josh sat up and nodded eagerly at Tyler.

“Yep, I taught her the song, she’s amazing isn’t she?” 

“Yeah, I genuinely thought you were Josh with that hat and the drumming over the speakers,” Tyler said, sitting down on the b-stage just next to the drum kit. “You know, it would be cool to have you on stage together playing.” I knew this was coming. I could practically feel the smirk grow on Josh’s face. “And I’m guessing he’s already tried to convince you. I’m sure we can set that up, the fans would go crazy,” he rested his head on his hands, staring up at the roof of the venue. I placed the drumsticks back into their storage cup before getting up from the kit and sitting in front of Josh on the floor. He nudged me, trying to bring my attention to the idea of playing on stage. 

“I-uh… I don’t think it’s for me, you know. You guys perform in front of massive crowds and given that it took me 3 weeks to talk to Josh after we properly met, my anxiety could never,” I pulled at the sleeves of my sweater nervously. 

Tyler smiled at me, knowingly, “I get it, it takes a lot to perform in front of people every night.” I nodded, glad he understood my situation. 

“Just know that I can make it happen if you want it to,” Josh smiled. 

“Of course you can.”

//

Please submit any requests y'all have! I love to write so let me know if you've got any!

[faroreskiss]

The Power of Understanding / Part 2 (v2)

Read on Ao3

Rewritten v2 posted on: 2023/09/10

Cheat Sheet

Chapters: Pilot, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Summary: You have been with the Chain for a while now, as their "scholar" and translator. You know everything about them, because you are from our world. But do they know the truth about how you can understand everyone? Loosely based on the same reader in my NSFW fic, which is a very loose prequel to this one, and a work in progress. More background info to come, if I feel like it :D Isekai reader, but she doesn't know about the Linked Universe. Warnings: None. SFW. Maybe Teen? Points of interest: This is your thing if you are into the mystery of chain being able to talk to each other. I am an actual trained linguist IRL, hence this HAD to be written! Some fluffy Twilight x Reader content in this chapter.

So, what was happening to you today? You just couldn't stop thinking about Twilight for some reason. You even carried your work over the stables, having to inhale the smell of horseshit around you. 

But he was just... there. Not like he has been far away lately. You’ve literally been stuck with him (and the rest of the chain) for around two years. Your ‘situationship’ with Wild was still there, and the rest of the chain was aware of it, you were guessing.  You both weren’t exactly super subtle about it, hand holding and such and sometimes a small kiss here and there, but you were never explicit with it either. Nobody questioned anything, everybody had their… quirks, you guessed. 

Did they think you were just in a relationship, you wondered sometimes. Were they even familiar with the word, situationship? Gods, what would they think of the involvement of you, Zelda and Link at the same time, if they knew? Technically, everybody had their room in the house in Hateno, but, well... Ah, you really missed Zelda too, and her delicate fingers on… You took a breath and then sighed. You were getting distracted.

Anyway, nobody owes anyone explanations in the Chain that you learned. That was the agreement of the Links, in which you were indirectly included. If they don't want to tell, you don't force them.

Except, you pretty much knew everything. Well, you weren't really familiar with any game where all the Links were together except maybe some fanfiction where they met in the afterlife, but Wild didn't "exist" back then, from your perspective.

Now, Time was out with the others, getting some business done in Castle Town. Wild also joined him to get some ingredients for the recipes he learned from Malon.

Back to Twilight... You were watching his strong arms, brushing the horse gently. He definitely had a tall stature compared to the other Links. The Links you are in contact with are ranging from their mid to late twenties, maybe early thirties (except Wind, though he was still almost a 16/17 -year-old teenager). So, most of them were fully adults.

"Hey, I can feel ya starin', ya know, Trivia Queen,” he said with his Ordona drawl that occasionally made an appearance, sighing, while still brushing his Epona.

Right. That was your nickname. When you first arrived, you kept spouting things about them that you supposedly should not "know" about, which made the Links (except Wild, he was used to it) extremely suspicious. Over time, they got used to it, especially after finding out about your "job" at Wild's world, as a historian, linguistics scholar. So they left it at that.

The other rule was that you were not supposed to discuss one Link with another, unless you are sure you are not revealing any secrets.

...which was a rule that was established right after you revealed that Twilight is Wolfie, to Wild. Seems like the Old Man already knew (you and Wild joined the chain pretty much as the latest additions), and it was his idea to come up with it. And it was kind of unfair because Wild said he already knew Wolfie from his initial adventure! Hah, good riddance. It did end up being revealed to everyone anyway, after his near death experience.

Fair to say, you were the persona non-grata for a while. And that nickname was not Trivia Queen, but it was Trivia-something else for a while (Thanks, Vet).

"Mhm," you idly replied.

Twilight raised an eyebrow, catching you lost in thought while the stables filled with the scent of horse dung. "Hey," he called out again, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Lost in your own world again?"

You sighed, blushing slightly, and tried to shake off the daydream of you and him in a big bear hug. "Yeah, just got a bit distracted," you admitted, turning your attention back to the ranch's budget paperwork. "These numbers can be quite mesmerizing, you know."

The rancher chuckled, his eyes warm as he continued brushing his Epona. "If you say so," he replied playfully. "But I have to admit, you manage to make even the most mundane tasks seem fascinating."

You couldn't help but smile at his compliment, feeling your heart flutter slightly. "Thanks, Link. You know how to make a 'trivia queen' blush," you teased back, trying to keep the conversation light-hearted.

His grin widened, and he leaned against the stable door, looking at you with that undeniable twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, really? Well, consider it a skill I've honed over time," he said, winking playfully.

You playfully rolled your eyes, trying to hide the butterflies in your stomach. "I suppose I'll have to keep my guard up around you, then," you replied, feigning a serious tone.

Twilight chuckled, and for a moment, the two of you locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between you.

"You wish you could," he winked.

There was an unspoken awareness that, despite the friendly banter, there were lines he would not cross. You respected his relationship with Wild, and he respected your history with him. And of course, the fact that everybody's existence is but a flicker...

Yes... Who knows how long you will still be here anyway? Even the stuff with Wild and Flora is as dangerous as it is. You can literally disappear and get back to your own world, leaving them behind.

This was the thing that was stopping you from the other type of "feelings" you could catch. You never spoke about this with Wild or Flora. To be fair, not like there was any time to. You… literally had the most intense moment of intimacy one night, and less than 24 hours after that, you and Link were taken in via the portal and met with 8 other Links. Poor guy even hesitated to sleep with you in the same bedroll, literally the night after. 

 And since the adventures with the Chain started, there was this weird gloom between you two sometimes (both missing Zelda), but the respect you have for each other never disappeared. That was another unspoken agreement.

The moment you want to speak about this awkward issue of you having a heart big enough for love for other people, the reality of your existence would be bare.

Anybody can disappear, forever, anytime.

Time's return broke the moment, and you both quickly resumed your tasks, acting as if nothing significant had transpired. "So, what were you two chatting about?" Time inquired with a sly grin.

"Just discussing the ranch's budget," you replied casually, keeping things vague.

The Old Man raised an eyebrow but seemed to take your word for it. "Alright then, just remember we've got some preparations to make before the next portal appears," he said, his eyes flickering with a knowing but serious glint. It wasn't the first time he witnessed something like this.

You nodded, grateful for the diversion. "Of course, I'll get back to work."

As the day went on, you couldn't help but steal glances at Twilight, his presence always managing to captivate you. Though you were the "translation magic" of the group, your understanding of him went beyond language. It was a connection that had been forged through shared experiences and unspoken feelings of the last couple of years, despite the initial incidents you had.

And as you continued to work alongside the Chain, you held onto the hope that, in the midst of all the chaos and adventure, there might be a chance for your paths to intertwine in a more profound way. For now, you would cherish the friendly banter and the secret glances, knowing that no matter how many worlds you traveled, Twilight would be a part of your heart's journey, for now.

[aemondslefteyeball]

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi (3)

Part 1 Part 2

[Modern!Aemond x Fem!reader]

[Warnings: Memorial service, death, human remains, child remains, substance use, reference to death by suicide]

[Summary: Garden party around the graveyard y'all]

(Hey guys! So I'm still figuring out a good pace to release this fanfiction. I'll probably stick to 2 chapters a week for now, but that could definitely change because I start a summer chem class soon yayyyyyy)

Word Count: 5.5K

Chapter 3

The sun shone through the dappled canopy, and the breeze was sweet as a kiss. It seemed an insult, you thought, that the world would look so beautiful on a day grim as this one. Sabitha pushed the sheet of metal into the soil with a sniffle, before standing and rejoining the circle gathered around. 

“Before we took off I heard Tanselle say that she was going to see Kim Petrys at the Oldstones next month,” You reached out to grip Baela’s hand, squeezing it as Sabitha spoke, her voice steady. “She was really excited. But she’s never gonna hear ‘Unholy’ again.” 

“Let’s join hands. We’ll pray for them.” Barba spoke up suddenly, her voice firmer than its usual timbre. The entire camp was somber, and you… well, you woke up feeling like you survived a plane crash. You were almost out of the woods, the rescue team would no doubt be here later in the day and the group would figure out exactly where to go from there. 

“Rohanne, you just started working in the labs a few months ago,” Barba said, as you squeezed Baela’s hand. It suddenly dawned on you how little you knew about some of these people. Upon finding out the plane seated twenty you had scrambled to fill the remaining fourteen seats. Inviting guests to bring a guest of their own, you figured that it would be a good opportunity for you to make new friends. Suddenly you were pulled out of your thoughts, “So we didn’t really know you.” Barba said, her voice wavering. 

“But in the lab, you never confused your Staphylococcus aureus and your Staphylococcus epidermidis.” You could tell your thoughts were reflected by others, the collective regret. “You seemed really smart.” Barba finished. 

“Anybody else?” It didn’t register as your own voice for a second, sounding detached. Foreign almost. 

“I saw her carry a flute case once.” Sabitha sputtered out, tears following immediately after. Shooting a sympathetic glance her way, some relief rising as Luke whispered something that calmed her. You dropped Baela’s hand for a brief moment, shooting her a look that said don’t worry before you placed a hand gently on Jace’s shoulder, removing it quickly after he flinched. 

“Old Gods and the new… and... Red God.” You didn’t miss Barba’s remark but didn’t worry about it. The worship of R’hllor was nigh unheard of in Westeros, and you knew it wasn’t from a place of malice. Besides, you were balls deep into the STEM field by now and had drifted from your religion. “Please accept Rohanne Westerling and Tanselle Yronwood into your arms. So that they may fill your kingdom with music” A fuse blew within you, and you gripped Baela’s hand harder. Unable to stop the tears that now flowed freely, you shook “Please accept Ser Laenor, and flight attendant Janys, pilot Robert, pilot Fred.” As the words flowed out. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” As soon as she started speaking, something came over Aly. Stepping back as if she had been electrocuted by Nettles’ and Myrielle’s hands. “I do not fear. The Gods are my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Gods are my strength.” Before Barba could finish, Aly swallowed hard. 

“I’m going for a walk.” Stated sharply, her usual staccato returned to Alysanne for a brief moment. You thought about going after her, but knew she wanted solitude whenever she was like this. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of a chair pulling out had Aemond snapping his good eye to the source. Emerson sat on the chair, looking like a zombie. The expression on her face told Aemond her mood was much worse than her appearance could ever show. She regarded him with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify, with a fury burning beneath it. 

“You don’t seem very concerned about her disappearance.” Aemond visibly bristled at her words. She wasn’t the one who had spent all night speaking to rescuers and all this morning checking his phone every other minute to see if anything, anybody had answers for him. Even Twitter. 

“I am.” He replied curtly, pouring his cup of coffee before he stood and watched the machine for a second. The kitchen felt strangely empty, and he realized it was missing the smell of your stupid coffee add-ons. “I spoke with rescuers well into the night.” As much ice as he could muster before fully awake was present, and he turned to watch that unidentified emotion shape into form. 

“Did you plan this?” She asked, Aemond noting that her phone was turned to face down. A departure from her usual behavior. She’s recording this, he thought suddenly. He knew he was cold to Y/N, but this? He felt genuine shock at it, the notion that he could harm a hair on her sweet, annoying head appalling. 

“No!” He yelled, perhaps the first time he had ever truly shown his full temper. An anger– sense of betrayal– arose within him as furiously as the weeks after he had lost his eye. “How could you say that?” He hoped she could feel the sincerity in his voice. Recording or not, there were some lines he would not cross. Not with innocent people, that was. 

“I think you’re a fucking liar.” She spat, eyes alight with a rage that radiated off her in waves. “You could get rid of the green card wife you resented,” The venom was so thick Aemond could practically cut it “And the nephews you hated.” She finished. “You’re a fucking wife killer.” She said with a shake of her head and a tremor in her voice. Finishing what she clearly came to start, She grabbed her coat and slammed the door on her way out. Wife killer, he thought. The grip on his mug tightened until the handle shattered. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nettles sat back on the log, holding Laenor’s foldable knife in her hand. You wanted to forget about looting the bodies of the dead. Happy to bury it with the memories of emergency water rafts uninflated and tossed over the corpses they couldn’t get out of the plane. They deserve better. A beautiful gravestone with a long life engraved into it. Instead it would say 2001-2023. Or 2002. You didn’t even know the birthdays of people that died because of your stupid vacation to the Eyrie. It’s my fault. You realized with a swallow, and palms that were suddenly sweaty. You all went around the campfire, had a little kumbaya moment, and talked about how you all crashed the plane. But these people… their parents would only ever have a body returned to them. Myrielle seemed to notice your change in expression, and reached a hand out to gently nudge you. “You okay?” She questioned, her hand squeezing your arm gently before rubbing it up and down. You met her gaze and nodded. Everybody here only had each other to rely on. We all need each other, I can’t waste time wallowing in self pity. You knew they would hate you when you were all rescued though, and that was okay. Because you would too. 

“This is all we have?” Nettles asked, a worried look on her face. A scanty pile of Swiss Rolls and other empty calories laid in front of the girls. 

“Yeah, we got to ration.” You answered. All the suitcases that could be salvaged had been stripped bare of anything useful. 

“Okay.” Floris nodded, turning to Nettles. “Cut them.” She commanded, opening a package and handing it to Nettles before preparing another. 

“Split this water.” Your voice sounded more sure now, and you were glad for it. They need you to at least pretend to keep your shit together. By tomorrow. 

“Careful.” Nettles said, “Don’t spill any.” You nodded and angled the bottle so it poured slower. Jacaerys approached suddenly, perpetually walking like an ornery bull. He leaned down and grabbed two packages of Swiss rolls off the top before walking away.

“Dude!” Sabitha exclaimed. “Jace, what are you doing?” She asked, throwing her arms up in exasperation. 

“Uh, maybe you didn’t notice, but we’re kinda in a situation here Strong.” you quipped, rolling your eyes immediately after. You understood his pain– the loss of a parent– more than he knew, and you wondered if you were this awful to others after your father died. Surely I couldn’t have been, but you weren’t sure if you were asking or reassuring yourself. 

Your best friend turned to you suddenly, a protective look on her face. “Don’t,” Baela warned, her expression grave. 

“I guess it’s fine if we go hungry as long as Jace’s feelings are okay.” You shot back before you could think. You felt for him, you really did. But you would all have time to grieve in a day when the rescue team got there. 

“We’re not gonna starve to death,” Sara interjected, and with a sudden burst of annoyance, you hadn’t gotten from her before. “When the rescue team gets he-” 

“If it gets here.” Sabitha quipped, her tone flat. Distant. 

Sara’s expression changed, concern falling over her face. “Don’t say that.” Her tone was calm, reassuring. You loved that about Sara, no matter how shitty you felt about your classes or workload she was there, perpetually optimistic. 

“Sara’s right,” Baela spoke, diffusing the staredown occurring between Sabitha and Sara. “There were way too many white people on that plane for them to not immediately notice.” She joked. Laughs rang out around the group, Nettles slapping Myrielle’s arm as she giggled. 

“Mr. President.” Nettles put on a serious facade, pantomiming and pressing an earpiece as she sat rigidly. “A plane carrying a bunch of rich white people crashed. Send the entire army right now!” She yelled out, voice raising to desolate treetops. 

“Where do you think we are?” Rhaena piped up suddenly. “Like, Winterfell maybe?” She explained, gesticulating as she did it. “Maybe that’s why it’s taking them a few days to find us.” Continued her voice, as you nodded in agreement. 

“There’s only pines as far as I can see.” You once again lamented the loss of Tanselle. She was a full-blown plant mom and would talk your head off about Monsteras at any opportunity given. You knew that if she was here she would be prattling off about how some of them were other types of trees you wouldn’t remember the names of thirty minutes later. “The soil is rocky. We’re in taiga, it has to be north of Winterfell.” Suddenly aware you were rambling the way Tanselle would, you got to the point. “I think we’re in the Northern Mountains.” You said finally. Multiple pairs of eyes looked out at the rolling forests. The wind sang through the valleys. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wife Killer. 

Wife killer. 

Emerson’s words rang through Aemond’s head as he sat down. His Mother had hovered around him, offering the mango juice he liked as a child. He appreciated her concern, but the only thing he felt was anxiety as she flitted about him. Apparently, she hadn’t yet heard that Emerson made multiple tweets suggesting he had something to do with your disappearance. Not plainly enough that it could be labeled as libel though. He had told Helaena from the beginning that the marriage wasn’t real. As old as they got, his older sister had always been his closest confidante. And given her nature, she wouldn’t turn and run her mouth to the vipers in the family. Viserys knew as well, having orchestrated the match for an old friend’s kid. As far as his Mom knew, he was still in shock from the terrible disappearance of his dear wife. Aemond knew he shouldn’t have been shocked at his Viserys’ apparent disinterest in finding you, yet was shocked when it brought forth a rage so extreme he had to excuse himself to the restroom. There he stood now, in front of the mirror. Wife killer echoed through his thoughts on a Sisyphean loop. He wasn’t sure he entirely felt the accusation yet. He was still in dumbfounded shock that you were most likely gone. His fists squeezed until his knuckles turned white, and he braced himself on the counter. Turning the faucet on and briefly splashing his face, he stared into the mirror before wiping his face and leaving the bathroom. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Guys!” Aly yelled as loud as she could. “Guys. There’s a lake.” She said, panting. “There’s a lake.” You perked up, “I saw it from that hill.” Alysanne pointed back in the direction she came from before turning back to the group. “It looks about four or five miles away.” She concluded. 

“Do you think we can hike it?” Floris spoke up, you nodding in agreement with her question and looking to Aly hopefully. 

“It’s pretty rocky, but yeah.” Aly responded, placing her hands on her hips and looking to Sabitha for reassurance she quickly granted. 

Sara stood up suddenly, a nervous smile pulled across her features. “Uh, we can’t.. We can’t just leave.” She asserted, while pulling her shoulders back with the confidence of a rooster. 

“We’ve got two days of water, tops.” Came the rebuttal, Aly’s reply condescending. “And then what?” She asked, spreading her arms. “Just sit around and die?” 

“What if the rescue team comes?” Sara asked, her tone letting more panic slip through. 

“Do you think they’re taking their time on purpose?” Aly clipped, her tone conveying a sense of hopelessness that had begun to ooze through the camp. “It’s been three days.” She said with a pointed stare at Baela. “If they knew where we were they would be here already.” Silence dawned after Aly finished, and you looked down at the thin soil ahead of you, digging the toe of your combat boot into it. 

Sara let it continue for another second, before raising her eyebrows. “You don’t know that,” Her voice almost came out as a coo. But the anxiety had already started to twist in your gut. Aly was right, and you all despaired knowing it. 

“What do you think, Ser Criston?” Aly asked pointedly, her eyes fixed on Sara. 

“I don’t,” Criston moved to grab the stump of his leg. “I don’t know.” He finally admitted. “Uh, I mean you’d have to leave me behind, I guess, but whatever.” He finished, a gloom cast over his handsome features. 

“We could make you a stretcher.” You interjected. You weren’t handy, but Alysanne was starting her MS in Aerospace Engineering in the fall. Sabitha would return to her job as an environmental engineer after rescue. There was no doubt in your mind that the two were up to much more complex tasks than this. 

Sara let out a laugh at your idea, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of resentment. She hasn’t done anything to help rationing and now she’s going to act like the queen? You fiddled with the plastic friendship bracelet that sat on your left wrist.

“Seriously.” You argued. “If we take turns carrying it..” 

You didn’t even get to finish before Sara cut you off, shaking her head “No!” She half-yelled. Where have I heard this before? “This.” She gestured to Aly, earning a heated glare from Sabitha. “This is bullshit. I say no. Okay?” she crossed her arms. “No way.” 

“Let’s put it to a vote,” Aly stated, her eyes passing over the group while blatantly ignoring Sara. Her gaze landed on Sabitha for a brief second before a twitch of a smile came across her face. It’s good they have each other. A twinge of jealousy still ran through you, despite your overwhelming relief that Emerson’s asshole boss denied her PTO. He actually did her a really big favor. “All in favor of waiting here?” Sara immediately raised her hand, looking to Myrielle who hesitantly raised hers as well after the blonde’s gaze landed on her. Barba followed. No more hands raised. “All in favor of the lake?” Her hand was raised as she asked that, and Sabitha’s hand rose as soon as she finished the question. Jacaerys brought his hand up next, a tight expression pulled across his face. You raised your hand next, as did Baela’s. Rhaena, seeing her twin’s decision, voted in favor of the lake as well. Nettles and Luke followed her. You looked to Floris, who with a guilty expression, slowly raised her hand as well. You didn’t miss the look of betrayal on Sara’s face, astounded that her best friend would dare to have an opinion of her own. “Then it’s settled. Grab your shit.” 

You helped Sabitha yank the compass out of the cockpit. Angling the ax so that it pointed away, the two of you wrenched on the metal before it came free with a grating sound that made your skin crawl. Floris’ tall frame finished the last letter of the message as you returned with the ax slung over your shoulder. You backed up a few feet and looked at it. ‘SOS GONE TO LAKE’, it read. You hoped the lipstick would hold up to the elements. Sabitha and Aly led the way, and the rest of you followed, seemingly swatting mosquitoes off yourself every five fucking seconds. I’m not gonna miss this, you thought with another slap that resulted in a blood-laden mosquito popping over your forearm. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You know most people don’t believe it, right?” Helaena’s voice was as soft and dreamy as it always was. An almost ethereal edge to her every word. Aemond held his face in a grimace and said nothing in response. Helaena wouldn’t reach out to touch him, and he was glad for it. Every word, every gesture felt thousands of miles away from him. “Only conspiracy nuts think that you planned a plane crash that would include twenty people.” Insistence in her tone as she unsuccessfully attempted to make eye contact with him. “Or killed Y/N.” The weight of Aemond’s exhaustion weighed heavily on him. Especially since it yielded nothing. They hadn’t found you yet.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s that smell?” You immediately pinched your nostrils shut, trying to not reflexively gag from the stench of decomposition. “Holy shit.” The carcass of a bear lay there, trampled ferns underneath it. The skin was peeling back, and two vultures sat atop the oozing flesh, tearing off pieces with sharp beaks. Sharper eyes watched them as flies buzzed around the ruin. Various remarks came from the group, each one disgusted. 

“What could have done that?” Floris piped up from behind you, her voice curious. 

“A wolf, probably.” Ser Criston stated, dangling his arms over the side of the stretcher as if on a pool float. 

“They can kill a fucking bear?” Baela turned around suddenly to face Cole, you following in tandem. 

“Yeah.” Criston responded grimly. “Wolves can kill anything if the pack’s big enough.” You froze for a second, a sense of dread churning in your gut. Just like it had before the crash. You fiddled with your hands. 

“Let’s keep moving.” Baela urged, growing tired of everybody rubbernecking the bear’s festering body. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aemond had always regarded food with something akin to annoyance. He had no issues with it in and of itself, he simply resented that he had to take the time out of his day to eat. It didn’t help that Helaena wasn’t a very good cook, but he supposed that was the result of growing up with staff to handle all that. Today was no different in regard to his feelings about food, but he made sure to take bites whenever his sister glanced at him. He thought she had gotten way too good at that, a silent command with just a look. Motherhood had done a number on his socially impaired sister. She looked as if she wanted to say something for a few minutes before she lifted her wine glass to her lips. Setting it down, she broke the silence. 

“It’s okay if you’re upset that she’s missing.” His older sister offered him a reassuring smile. “I know you have Alys,” She continued, “But Y/N is still a part of your life.” She finished. 

“Mmm.” Came his only response, sitting rigidly as the words bounced off him. “I’m fine.” He insisted coolly.

Helaena, whether emboldened by the wine or the circumstances, shook her head. “You’re not fine, Aemond.” The words came as gentle as a lamb. “I’ve known you since birth. I can see how not-fine you are.” His seat scraped across the floor as he stood up, quickly moving to exit the room. “She’s alive.” His sister blurted out, her tone sure. Aemond whipped around, furious. Now was not the time for his sister’s woo shit. “I’ve seen it.” She insisted, her face calm. Aemond let out a wry laugh and left the room. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This shit’s way longer than four miles,” Baela whined, gripping the handles of her rucksack. “What if we missed it?” She asked with a smirk. 

“From the angle of the sun, it looked just left of due north.” Aly insisted, her tone revealing tiredness. Sara let out a wry chuckle in response to that.

“Oh, great!” She mocked, pantomiming confetti. “Left. That’s a precise way of doing it.” You felt annoyance stir in your gut. Sara could be pissy all she wanted but the group made a decision, and didn’t have time for her fits. 

“I’m not a fucking cartographer.” Aly retorted, and you could hear the roll in her eyes. 

“Or maybe you saw a mirage.” Sara insisted snidely. Seconds after Sara shot back, Sabitha gasped. 

“Oh, shit.” She said, moving to gently hit Aly’s arm in excitement. “Oh shit!” She exclaimed. “Oh hell yeah, bitches!” A wide grin split her face, and she started to run toward whatever she had seen. As you followed in her footsteps, you breathed out a sigh of relief. The steely lake rocked gently at the shore, your salvation. You ran across the clearing as fast as your bruised and abused legs would carry you, stripping off your shirt in the process. Upon reaching the shore you removed your boots and shorts in quick succession, tossing them carelessly down at the lakefront before running in. “Guys come in!” Sabitha splashed around in the water, “It feels fucking great!” she insisted. The cold water lapped at your legs but you found it to be a welcome relief for your aching muscles. 

“Well, at least we have a beach..” You remarked, ducking beneath the water before surfacing again. Exhaling the breath you held in, you leaned back, allowing yourself to float. The hot sun shone on all of you as you splashed each other. Games of chicken occurred, with you hopping on Floris’ shoulders and knocking Barba off Sabitha. You looked back to the shore, Jacaerys was undressing. Your gaze shifted to Aly, who stood with her hands on her hips and couldn’t look less disinterested in the man stripping before her. Her gaze landed across the water, and you followed it to Sabitha who she looked at with a beaming grin across her face. Baela and Jace splashed each other when he entered the water. You dove beneath the water and felt the closest thing to peace since the night before your trip. When you resurfaced, you flinched for a moment. A glare had obstructed your vision in the most uncomfortable way. Metal? Maybe a ranger station. 

“Guys!”  You yelled out, pointing in the direction of the glare. “Look!” You insisted, moving towards the shore to get out. 

“What is that?” Sara asked, putting a hand up to shield her eyes from the glare. 

“It looks like a reflection.” You kept moving towards the shore with a hurried pace. 

“Guys there’s something on the hill,” Sabitha’s voice boomed out. “Come on, let’s go!” She yelled. Tracking the source of the light proved to be harder until the dilapidated cabin came into view. As soon as it came into sight you reflexively crossed your arms over your chest, hairs prickling at the back of your neck. The inherent wrongness of the place shook you to the core, as did the eerie surroundings. You turned to survey the area around it and swallowed at the sight of that fucking symbol showing up again, carved into a tree. You hung back, uncrossing your arms to fiddle with the strap of your backpack. The rest of the group banged at the windows and doors, with combined shouts asking if anybody was there. When only silence answered, Sara and Floris pushed to open the door. A sense of foreboding entered you as you saw them enter the shack, shoving down your nerves before entering after them. 

“-It reeks in here” Came Sara’s voice, with you wondering if she was going to do anything but complain since the group voted against her decision. 

“Guys. Let’s check the pantry and see if there’s any food.” You spoke, turning to seek it out, Sara one step ahead of you. “Could somebody go around the cabin and get stuff we can use? Flashlights, first aid... You know.” You walked into the small space to see Sara grabbing a can and peeling back the tab. 

“What the fuck Sara, that’s not your personal buffet.” You snapped, recoiling at the smell of the spoiled…whatever that was in the can. 

Sara threw it down as if burned, cursed, and let out a huff in frustration. “See this is why we should’ve stayed in the plane!” She lashed out, and you steeled yourself in place as growing anger flared within you. 

“Well, the group voted not to!” You hadn’t raised your voice in years but found a sudden catharsis in it. “So you need to find a way to fucking live with that.” You threw a hand up in exasperation, before waving it dismissively. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your tantrum with silly little concerns like our immediate survival.” A venom you didn’t recognize was laced into your tone, but it felt good to stand up to her. “And this is helping how, exactly?” 

“This is a fucking nightmare.” Sara ran outside, sounding near tears over a can of spoiled milk. You shook your head in disbelief before walking to the living room. 

“Well heelllooooo,” Sabitha exclaimed, slamming a pile on the creaky table. You grimaced at the dust it shook up before turning your gaze back to Sab. “Don’t worry guys. We might be stuck in the middle of nowhere. But, hey, at least there’s porn.” She said, smugly lifting a magazine with a busty brunette on the cover. You snickered under your breath as Sabitha opened the magazine and flipped through it. Choruses of anything from “sick” to “whoa” echoed out. 

“Hey this guy kind of looks like you, Strong,” Myrielle spoke up, tilting the magazine so Jace could see it with a smirk on her face.

“If only any of you looked like her.” He retorted, his expression moody. You briefly wondered if you were sentenced to be surrounded by emotionally incompetent men as a lifelong purgatory. 

“Okay, very funny,” Sabitha said defensively, with a roll of her eyes. “Do guys, like, actually jerk off to this stuff?” She said, waving it around like a wad of dirty paper towels. 

“Nah, we hate that shit.” He answered with a sarcastic tone. “You know, you can’t even tell what her favorite book is.”

“Mmm. Ha ha.” Sabitha retorted with a roll of her eyes before following it with a middle finger. You stood around laughing at the bad porn with the group before the novelty wore off and you were once again uneasy. Leaving the cabin, you stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. That was where Aly found you a few hours later, worriedly scratching at your palms. 

“Fuck’s your deal?” She questioned. “Come inside.” 

You shook your head, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “I know it sounds crazy… I just have a bad feeling about this place.” You insisted as you pulled your arms tighter across your chest. 

“Well, yeah, because it stinks. And there are spiders that could eat your face.” Aly mused. “But hey, after that bear we saw today I’m not gonna let you sleep out here, okay?” You remained where you stood, and annoyance flicked across her face. “Are you kidding me? ‘A bad feeling’? I don’t believe in that shit, and you’re not going to either. Okay? So get your ass inside.” She moved to grab you by the arm, half leading and half pulling you into the cabin. 

Hours after everyone had gone to sleep, you stayed up. Despite your exhaustion, sleep could not find you. Your body simply refused to rest. You made your way to the attic, stepping as gingerly as you could. Making note of which boards creaked, you popped open the door and entered to confirm your fears. It still didn’t brace you for the skeletal state of the man in the chair. Your gaze lowered to the rifle that rested against his pelvis. The top of his skull blown off. That ended up being the least horrifying thing you found. Laid at the center of the massive symbol carved into the floor, two small skeletons sat precariously. You let out a gasp in shock and scrambled to the opposite corner. You sat and stared at the tiny skeletons just feet away from the man’s. That was where Aly found you for the second time that night. Her brown eyes met yours, and you stared blankly ahead of you. “Y/N?” 

“I told you.” You whispered, as she turned her head to the macabre scene and cried out. The moonlight lit up the triangular symbol that was carved into the wooden floor. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he returned home, Alys waited for him inside. Words of comfort that just felt cloying, and touch that brought him no peace. They sat in silence punctuated by occasional attempts at conversation by Alys. He sat appearing indifferent, growing more uncomfortable with her presence. “I think you should go.” He finally stated. Alys nodded and blinked for a second before she grabbed her bag and walked out of the door. His self-inflicted loneliness weighed heavily upon him, and he found himself searching the entire house for Vhagar. The ornery old cat had chosen a damn good hiding place wherever she was because he couldn’t draw her out of any spot. Finally, he came to the one part of the house he had been avoiding. Your room.

Wife killer. 

Did you plan this? 

The words tantalized him, drawing him to lows he had not felt in years. People had always assumed he was monstrous, and he had leaned into it after a while. Might as well, since it seemed people only ever waited for the other shoe to drop. Aemond took a deep breath before entering. The room smelled like you and told him a lot he had not known. Wife killer. He had always suspected you disliked the minimalist design of the house, and that was reflected by almost every inch of the exposed wall being covered. He also surveyed the room, his eyes passing over a Cramps tapestry and a poster for some horror film he didn’t recognize. He made a mental note to watch it later. Something gripped at him, as his eye finally came to rest on your bed. The duvet cover was lux, a soft cotton candy pink that fit with the rest of the room. There, on a massive ghost plushie, sat Vhagar. She blinked at him, and he felt a sense of judgment. He closed the gap between him and the bed and stared at it for a few seconds longer, running his hand over the smooth fabric. Wife killer. He balled his fist for the brief moment the thought popped into his mind, gripping the duvet tightly enough to tear it. Cursing, and feeling a roaring anger flow through him, he slammed his fist onto the bed and yelled out as loud as he could. When the scream stopped, tears began to flow from his sole eye. He turned to sit at the edge of the bed, his eyes landing on more of your decor. Clenching his fists again, and grateful for the emptiness of the house, he grabbed a pillow from the bed and squeezed it tightly. He inhaled the scent as deeply as he could, closing his eye and letting the scent give way to fractals of Y/N. Singing in the kitchen on a Sunday morning, stretching next to Vhagar’s cat tree and flexing your toes out of distance whenever the geriatric cat tried to bap them, knee deep in the garden and grinning with dirt smeared across your cheek. His chest shook with his soft cries, and he reached his hand out to stroke the other pillow wistfully. You were gone. Probably dead. If not, terrified and cursing his name. He wiped his eye off angrily as if trying to scrub away any evidence of his emotions. He missed you. 

Wife killer.

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

Taglist: @chainsawsangel

[when-worlds-end]

Oops... I fell onto my keyboard...

Your eyes remain glued to the cracked ground as you walk away from him, the sound of his beat-up vans hitting the concrete sidewalk rattling along the inside of your skull as he follows you.

One step. Two steps. Four steps. Eight steps. His pace continues to match perfectly in time with yours until you can't take it anymore, furiously whipping around to face the person who just can't seem to cut their losses.

"Stop following me."

"Not until you tell me why they call you that," he breathes out, his words tumbling over themselves in a panic as he tries desperately to pivot the conversation in a direction where you don't demand that he leaves.

"Why won't you just accept that that's what everyone calls me?" Your question comes out softer than you expected, your voice sounding hollow as the layers of defeat pile up in your throat as if to choke you.

"Because I... I just... can't." The words halt you in your tracks but he keeps going, as if he can't stop, "it's cruel, what they call you. They all know it, they're just too cowardly to say anything about it. I'm not. I have not and I will not call you that. Different doesn't mean bad. Different doesn't mean monster. Different doesn't mean freak."

[z0mbiekisses]

CALL ME, BEEP ME !

★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ★⋆. ࿐࿔

a story where…

jasmine had her entire life planned. sure, maybe it wasn’t HER plans, HER dreams. but jasmine didn’t know anything different. she was on set for good day dema. jasmine was the stage manager, it was her job to make sure everything was perfect. to paint this image of what dema supposedly is. jasmine knew the city was far from pastels and upbeat music. however, this was her job. and she was determined to make sure she wouldn’t let the bishops down. but when jasmine saw tyler for the first time. something in her changed. but was jasmine really willing to sacrifice everything she has for some idea of “the outside” ? will tyler be enough to open her eyes to the truth?

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playlist(wip); https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2yYKhpbeT1hFhl4PFDfYRa?si=Yuz4ah6MSRy21cjTiAvR3A&pi=u-xl9Jdur5ShCI

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part one

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AUTHORS NOTE: hello!! this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr, despite me being no stranger to writing or tumblr lol. this is all in good fun!! i’m going to try my best to stick to the lore, however i might change things for story sake or get things wrong. if so im sorry!! this will also be pretty short, ill say this will be a 4 part series since this takes place so LATE in the lore. and i rather have a few lengthy parts than multiple short little “chapters”. this is also heavily inspired by @oldiesstationlover11607 work.. more specifically her 2 parter clancy series. PLEASE check out her work it’s some of my favorite!!!

ANYWAAYSSS!!!! i hope you guys enjoy this!! i look forward to writing!!

- val 🎀

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