#AFTER ALL THE THINGS THAT LEAD UP TO RHIS TOO?

[thisisaname-whatahappyname]

hi hello just noticed the notification for this and TWO MINUTES AFTER THE CONVERSATION??

The ship ever

[baldnap]

My Experience With Sapnap (satire) (this is a JOKE)

On September 16, 2023, Sapnap hosted a Rockstar Raidz Minecraft event which I was picked to participate in.

I was very nervous and anxious all day leading up to the event, and when the time came for it to start I got in a call with my friends and joined the server.

I did pretty bad the first few games due to my extreme nervousness. Having such a big creator watching as I played really made me uncomfortable.

During the PVP game, where we had to basically get our own materials to craft our weapons and fight everyone else, I started doing really well, getting a decent amount of kills. However, when I started fighting one opponent, who had no armor or anything (I had an iron sword, shield, and chestplate), I screwed up a little and missed a few of my hits, because I got nervous because my friends said that he was watching me. That's when he said this:

I've never felt more invalidated in my life. In front of thousands of viewers, he said this? And then AFTER that, the person I was attacking turned out to be "lagging" (or hacking), because after I had hit them way too many times for them to still be alive, they all of a sudden had full iron and a diamond sword. Obviously, I was confused, and then immediately invalidated when I questioned this.

This experience left me with irreparable emotional damage. Someone I had looked up to, trusted, loved parasocially, said this rude things to me and dismissed my feelings? Not to mention this was for money, whivh I really could have used, but this interaction rattled me so much that I could not focus foe the entirety of the event.

Tired of staying silent. The world needed to know. Someone who was so excited for rhis event at the beginning, having her feelings comepletely invalidated by the very man she was excited to see.

[seijorhi]

hey rhi 👋

I’ve been watching a lot of zombie shows lately (ex: the walking dead, last of us, all of us are dead, world war z, zombieland etc. etc)

And while watching all those shows, they always managed to remind me about your zombie fic ‘finders keepers’ which would then lead me to wonder and boil with questions. So if you don’t mind and if it doesn’t trouble you too much, I would like to ask a couple of things ….

1. How did the apocalypse start?

2. When it did start, were they at school and just so happen to group up? Or did they join forces in a different manner?

3. While oikawa and the reader were taking shelter, where were the others?

4. When the reader went out to search for supplies for oikawa, we know the twins were following her, but what were they doing out in the first place?

5. (I might be a lil slow for this, but) Which of the twins killed the zombie, Atsumu or Osamu?

6. Why does inarizaki take in ‘strays’ and what do they do to them? And what do they do once the strays in question want to leave their group?

7. For how long did the twins have eyes for the reader?

8. How far along are they into the apocalypse?

9. How come no one seems concerned with reuniting with family or loved ones?

10. What’s the initial reaction from the inarizaki group when they see that the twins brought the reader to their base?

Well I think that’s all my questions… hopefully. But I know for damn sure that if an apocalypse were to actually happen that I’d be like the reader utterly useless and helpless (but unlike her I won’t have any strong and beautiful men to help or protect me 😔)

I would also probably opt out 😭 (people in zombie shows always have so much will to live and for what?!?!?).

Anyways, I always enjoy seeing your blog and reading yours answers to questions asked by us. I love how I’ll be doing anything in my day, and something (no matter how small it is) will remind me of one of your many glorious fics.

I hope you have a wonderful week and thank you for reading. (Stay hydrated and blessed babe 😏.)

(((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

- 🌬️🌫️

okay bear with me

i like to go with pharmaceutical fuck up/virus/pandemic thing à la 28 days later or the walking dead

nah, they were friends before it hit, but even pre-apocalypse it wasn't intended to be a volleyball specific thing

well technically it depends. prior to oikawa being bitten they were on a supply run. in the aftermath, they would've gone back to the school, found it overrun and depending on your own personal choice, either found themselves at the wrong end of a zombie's teeth, or they're trying to track oikawa and the reader down after escaping themselves

following :))

whichever one you think. truly i wrote it and left it ambiguous because 1) the reader couldn't see shit and couldn't determine it herself and 2) it could honestly have been either of them and i found it funnier that way. go with whatever your heart tells you

i like to think that inarizaki actually have more of a 'community'. small, but not just a bunch of guys. considering that there's food, medicine, a fuck-ton of guns and men willing to use them, they're usually pretty happy to stay. loyal enough to look the other way when it becomes clear the reader isn't going to be able to just waltz out the front gate like she thinks

inarizaki (or the core members) were aware that a few people were holing up in the school, weren't too concerned about it. more of a 'keep an eye on it and see if it becomes a problem' kind of sitch. they didn't know that group included a woman, not with how anal the others were about keeping the reader safe and tucked away from prying eyes. it was pure luck that the twins caught sight of her during a patrol, a little while before iwa and the other two left and zombies found their way inside. funny that.

somewhere between 6-12 months. long enough for the world to go to shit and for people to become adjusted to that. sort of

mostly because they either saw their family and loved ones die or they believe the chances they're still alive are slim enough not to pin hopes and dreams on. also in the reader's case because even if she had plans of meeting up/looking for someone, they'd put that shit to bed real quick

honestly i think kita would want to disapprove, but how can he? yes the twins were reckless and yes they should have discussed this together beforehand so they could have planned this, but he can't and won't argue with the end result. the reader wasn't safe where she was, now she is. she'll have access to things she was woefully lacking previously, the twins are satisfied, it's the best solution all round. thanks in no small part to how seijoh 4 treated her, there's no chance she'd survive out there on her own. such a sweet, vulnerable, helpless little thing, how could the rest of them not just want to eat her right up? they are ofc unsurprised by the twins pulling some bullshit, but hey, no one (they care about) died right? win-win.

[agentofreedom]

{You Can Road-Rage At Me Anytime - Read on AO3 }

Ch. 2: now we’re talking business

Read ch.1 on tumblr here

Unfortunately, luck was decidedly not on Violet’s side, evidenced by the ominous clunk-clunk-clunk that reverberated from Andarna’s engine when she turned her on the next morning and drove her out of the garage to better inspect her beloved. The noise had not been there the day before. Nor had the vibrating sensation under her feet when she pressed on the brake.

She parked on the side of the road outside her apartment, and popped open the bonnet, dread rising in her chest. She hadn���t actually expected to find any damage, but she had to admit - miserably - that she may have taken that turn to avoid the crash yesterday much too harshly for her aged (but well loved) car. She winced again at the memory of the screeching tyres - she had at least checked them first, and they were thankfully okay.

“Okay, girl, let’s get this over with,” she murmured, patting the shimmering bonnet before rolling up her sleeves and leaning in to get a closer look at the engine.

When Violet had spent almost her entire savings on Andarna, the car had been sitting at the dealership for a long while, having been overlooked by customers because of her custom paintjob. But Violet saw her and could hear the ghost of her dad’s voice rumbling in her head, his fondness for this car brought on by his own childhood constantly travelling through various states and counties with his parents thanks to their work and the only constant being their Chevy, his first home. And when she had slid into the driver’s seat, the interior wrapped itself around her like a welcome hug, and something inside her warmed up like a healing balm.

She threw herself into researching all the ways to best look after her car - after affectionately naming her Andarna, another ode to Dad - and no one could argue that when Violet put her mind to learning the ins and outs of something, that she wouldn’t master it.

“Shit,” she hissed presently, as she took stock of what had made the ticking noise. She reached for the snapped timing belt she could just about see the frayed ends of, tugging until the damage was clear. Narrowing her eyes, she peered at it, then hummed to herself. That didn’t explain the vibrations though.

She heaved a sigh and fished around some more, and was elbows-deep trying to get a look under, cursing and sweating, when her phone rang.

Groaning, Violet straightened up slowly and reached into her back pocket, grimacing at the oil on her fingers as she swiped at her phone. Devera, her screen alerted her, and her eyebrows shot up as she answered.

“Hello?”

“Violet,” her boss answered, “We’ve just had a new lead come in. How far are you?”

Violet pursed her lips. It wasn’t exactly unheard of to wrap up a case only for a new one to come their way immediately after - but it was definitely a rarity. “I’ll be there in 20.”

“I’ll fill you in as soon as you arrive,” she promised before shutting.

Well. That was strange. Violet blinked down at her phone, then at her car, the engine still on full display, and dropped her head back with a gusty sigh. “Looks like you’ll have to wait for me, girl,” she murmured, gently dropping the hood and locking her car before turning back to head inside her apartment.

Seventeen minutes later, she was stepping out of Rhi’s car, having scrubbed off the engine oil at home and freshened up, catching her friend before she could head down to her law firm down the road from Violet’s own workplace. She had ordered a new timing belt to arrive tonight so she could at least knock off one thing on her list by the time she returned home after work.

She blew a kiss back at her best friend and got one in return, then strode into the foyer, mind abuzz with what kind of priority lead they may have received if Devera hadn’t wanted to mention anything over the phone.

They’d had a couple of significant leads in the past like this.

Of course, Violet had a keen eye for high security leads considering her upbringing and consecutive distancing from Lilith Sorrengail, deputy chief of the law enforcement department, among other things that Violet had yet to work out. Well, and her mother. She hadn’t chosen to become a private eye after her father passed away just for the hell of it - although there was no doubt she sought the thrill of solving cases and piecing information together.

She nodded at Nadine at the front desk as she walked on through to Devera’s office, knocking lightly once before entering.

Whatever she had thought to find inside, she never would have expected to come face-to-face with one Cam Tauri, sitting across from a stern Devera. They both looked up as she stepped in, her wide eyes fixed on the familiar but more grown-up face of the Tauri family’s youngest. She shut the door behind her with a decisive click of the lock, not taking her eyes off him.

“Violet,” said Devera, motioning for her to sit. “It seems you’re both already acquainted.” Her keen gaze didn’t miss much.

Violet narrowed her gaze, not sure what game Cam was playing in coming here - she hadn’t heard from him in years, and she didn’t exactly trust his father or older brother Halden, so she held her tongue until he spoke first, clearing his throat.

“Yes, I… your reputation precedes you both, of course,” he said smoothly, glancing between the two women, the cool look of haughtiness covering his expression where Violet could see nervous lines before. “As I told your partner here,” he added to Violet, “I’m looking into my brother’s disappearance.”

“Your brother’s disappearance,” she replied, flatly.

Alic Tauri’s name had spread through their databases last year when his father, the chief of the law enforcement department - also her mother’s higher-up - had tried to hush up the details around his disappearance, seemingly embarrassed by whatever his incompetent foolhardy son had gotten caught up in and any damage to his own reputation as a result. But as far as Violet knew, Alic had gone off the rails a long time before that.

“And that,” said Devera flatly, “is the extent of what he’s told me.”

Violet looked at her carefully; she clearly did not know who sat before them. Again, what game was Cam playing?

“Well, yes, you see - I’d like to work with Sorrengail alone,” he added coolly.

She raised her eyebrows, and exchanged glances with an unimpressed Devera.

Devera was not exactly her boss, more so a mentor in the field, but she had many years of experience under her belt, not to mention her time with the military; so Violet trusted her expertise while also using her knowledge to gain a leg-up in the PI world. They worked almost all their cases together, Violet being much more suited for field work than her older counterpart, while Devera managed their databases and kept things running smoothly in the office.

“Well, then,” she said, spreading her hands as if to say go ahead to Violet. “You heard the man. He can follow you to your office.”

Cam met her eyes and stood up swiftly, waiting for Violet to take the lead. She communicated silently to Devera that she had this covered, and received a grim nod in return. The older woman may not know who exactly this was, but she clearly gathered he was more high profile than their usual leads.

Still silent, Violet ushered him into her office, closing the blinds of her windows and once again locking the door behind her.

“Alright.” She turned to him sharply, watching him stand up straight defiantly at her attention. “What’s this about, Cam?”

“Aaric,” he immediately said.

“What?” she asked, perturbed.

“You’re to call me Aaric in company, and not a peep of the family name,” he muttered, then seeing her deadly narrowed eyes, added, “Please, Violet.”

She let loose a long breath and counted to ten in her head. “And your brother? Alic? Am I also to call him by his middle name?” she asked, sarcastically.

He dropped his mask a bit to frown at her, having the nerve to actually look affronted. “Don’t be silly, we both know he’s dead.”

That caught her attention swiftly. Chewing on her bottom lip, Violet eyed him in a new light. He had grown, that was right, but there really was something else there - an edge in his eyes, the way he fixed his jaw, the light brown fuzz there and the shadow behind his scowl giving the look of someone who carried a hidden weight. Also, while she’d had her suspicions about the middle Tauri son, she hadn’t actually known for certain that he was dead, and she had definitely had much greater things to keep an eye out for over the past few years than the whereabouts or living status of the family of a man she despised.

“No,” Cam - or Aaric - continued, his eyes sweeping her room unseeingly in a nervous tic, seemingly unaware he had just dropped a minor bombshell on her. “That’s just my cover story.” When he looked back at her, Violet felt alarm bells start to ring in her head, almost wishing she could stop the next words from leaving his mouth. “What I really need you to do, is uncover my father’s secrets.”

–

When Violet had left the field of law that she had been studying with Rhi, to instead pursue a career as a private investigator, her closest friends hadn’t so much as batted an eye. They had seen how formidable she was in her research, how she was able to uncover facts about her case studies and piece together the relevant laws and procedures in a fraction of the timespan it took some of her peers. They didn’t question her motives, besides that she was a natural at the job.

She had never told a single soul what pushed her to make the leap.

Not even Mira, who had spent the better half of six months going between her and their mother, thinking she had had a hand in the youngest Sorrengail’s decision, and then trying to convince her ‘baby’ sister that law was what she was meant to do, and didn’t she remember what Dad had always envisioned for her? But when she had seen that Violet had made up her mind and had gone into the PI world with all the finesse and cunning of a seasoned investigator, she had taken a step back and become one of Violet’s fiercest cheerleaders.

But still, Violet didn’t tell her.

For all that anyone knew, their eldest brother Brennan - detective lieutenant of his own police squad - had died in an accident, a leaked gas explosion, years ago on a job that their mother had authorised. That Tauri had authorised. He had supposedly been chasing a trail on one Riorson, of Riorson and Sons, a cybersecurity firm that Lilith Sorrengail had had viciously shut down in a power move one night a few years ago following Brennan’s death, on various counts of fraud and money laundering. But Violet knew that Brennan, in the weeks leading up to this alleged case, had been following leads on an unrelated homicide charge - although how she knew that was arguably not within the bounds of ‘legal’.

Their father’s health had become incredibly poor in the months after, the loss of his son and firstborn a heavy weight on his already-tired heart, and the grief that followed had torn the Sorrengail family apart for good.

Violet hadn’t communicated with her mother in a good four years - but that didn’t mean she hadn’t kept tabs on her…. and, consequently, on Tauri Senior.

Not even Devera knew what Violet kept in her own personal databases; and now, Cam Tauri stood before her, about to unravel all that she had been working on in the background, by his mere presence.

–

Violet was faintly surprised she hadn’t worn a hole right down her office carpet from how many circles she had paced while Cam spoke.

Besides his casual sharing of his brother’s fate, he had not mentioned anything so far that Violet was not already aware of. Tauri Senior was running a tight ship in the law enforcement agency, those closest to him kept quiet regarding his real motives behind certain moves - such as the Riorson case - which he had administered charges against with a swiftness and brutality that belied the usual bureaucratic processes around here. The man had made many enemies on the streets, that much she knew, and of course Lilith was right up there with him, her hands allegedly just as dirty. But she could not prove it, or uncover what exactly they were working on, or why it all felt so shifty except that her gut - which had not steered her wrong yet - told her there was more underneath the surface.

And then, Cam uttered words she had to pause and repeat, confused. “Wait, did you say you think he has his hands on VENIN tech?”

“Yes,” Cam said grimly.

“But…” She trailed off, thinking fast. “How? Barrens Inc. got shut down long before they finalised that kind of tech, and with good reason.”

“Shut down by who?” he asked pointedly.

“Fuck.”

“Exactly.”

How had she missed this? “How are they operating it? Are they operating it? It was meant to be breakthrough research that had backed it up, it’s not something any old engineer can just run,” she ruminated, thinking out loud. Cam watched her silently. “This changes everything. We’re not supposed to be thinking about using that kind of technology on civilians, not even by the law enforcement.” How many layers were hiding under the widespread corruption that she still had no real leads on?

Well - no leads until now.

“Yeah, well,” Cam muttered, dropping his head into his hands tiredly. “We can’t have our enemies threatening public security now, can we? Of course we need every heads-up we can possibly use.”

Something about his words niggled at Violet’s already whirring brain, besides the thick sarcasm coating his tone, but she moved sharply behind her desk and fired up her personal laptop instead of pulling on that thread. She could not use the shared databases for this - it was much too risky for anyone, even Devera, to catch even a whiff of what they might be working on - so she settled into her chair and pulled up her own databases instead.

“Right,” she said, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder as she began to type rapidly. “Here’s what we need…”

–

It was well past sundown by the time Violet slipped out of the cab she’d taken home, letting him drop her off at the beginning of her street rather than her doorstep so she could walk in the silent, dark, cool night air for a few minutes, needing a respite from the hours of thinking and trying to piece together pieces that refused to fit.

She paused by Andarna to sweep a hand over her metallic bonnet, half-wishing she could have spent the day tinkering away here instead of this relentless weight of Cam’s - Aaric’s, she had to remind herself - new lead. She shook her head, continuing up the steps of her building to her unit. There was a small delivery box waiting for her outside her door, and she checked the sticker to find that it was indeed the car’s timing belt she had ordered earlier that day.

At least one thing would be fixed by tomorrow morning.

Remembering the shuddering of her car underneath her feet when she had braked to park earlier that day, Violet grimaced. She knew it was the brake pads. They had needed a service before her last job which had taken the better part of a fortnight, and lots of driving around, so she knew logically that it had only been a matter of time before they gave up. It was just her luck that they happened in this moment.

As she let herself into her small home, throwing herself gladly on the couch to finally lay still on a horizontal surface (her aching joints thanked her loudly), she let herself think of the mysterious X in her phone contacts list. She knew that she could ideally claim the damages to her car from his own insurance, as she had already insinuated to him that she would do, but the idea of going through that whole process with insurances and making claims was enough to flare up a headache; let alone talking to him again which set her stomach twisting uncomfortably. Now that her mind was slowing down from the constant whirr of the Tauri lead, she couldn’t shake off the lingering intensity of his dark gold-flecked gaze as she wondered for the umpteenth time what a man like that was doing running - or speeding - away from that ferocious woman who had followed him.

She had unlocked her phone and found his number while thinking. She had to snort at the pretentious ‘X’ he had labelled himself - had he not realised she had caught his name from the woman, Catriona? Or was he accustomed to going around putting his contact details in girls’ phones under a solitary initial? Maybe he thought it added to his dark and mysterious charm-

Charm? Her brain definitely meant something else.

But - she stubbornly moved her thought process on - he had purposefully chosen to give her his number. This told her, at surface level, a few things:

1. He didn’t want her to have his licence details which, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t given her his entire first name, added to her certainty that he was holding onto some sort of privacy with regards to his identity.

2. He didn’t take her number, so he was sure that she was going to contact him.

3. That meant he knew he was at fault and that she likely had damaged something in her car to need to contact him in the first place.

4. He was an arrogant piece of work.

She huffed a breath, feeling frustrated all over again.

Never one to ignore a challenge, she pressed the call button and raised the phone to her ear.

Maybe she was just keen for a distraction.

The phone only rang once before that low voice answered. “Yes?”

What was she doing?

Violet set her jaw. “It’s me.”

There was a pause on the other end. She, once again, quashed the flush that rose up her chest at her own nonsensical response.

She heard a faint mutter of what might have sounded like ‘violence’ but before she could demand coherence, he said clearly - and she could hear the cocky smirk in his voice, “Thought I’d never hear from you. What with how hot and bothered you were yesterday, I figured you’d waste no time assessing your damages and ripping me a new one as soon as you got home.”

Did this dickhead think this was a game? She sat up, shooting back sharply, “I’m flattered you were waiting for me.”

He chuckled, a quiet sound that sent tingles straight down her traitorous spine. “You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you?”

What the hell. “I wouldn’t sound quite so cocky if I were in your position,” she gritted out.

“And why not?”

“Because, you asshole, you owe me repairs, like I said.”

“I’ll Venmo you the amount,” he said easily, as if he hadn’t given her a headache yesterday arguing with her about who was at fault.

She pulled the phone away for a second to rub a hand down her face, irritated all over again. She returned it to snap, “What’s your deal?”

“What’s your deal?” he snapped back, and she narrowed her eyes in a deathly glare that she hoped reached him somehow.

“I’m sorry?!”

“You called me for your repairs, and I agreed. What’s your issue, exactly?”

“You!” she cried, forgetting for a moment that she was speaking to someone who was probably involved in the kinds of things she was usually hired to uncover, if yesterday’s weird exchange was anything to go by. “My issue is that you’re infuriating to deal with, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make you special. You’ll have to get in line,” he growled.

That voice and his words were doing opposite and confusing things to her body, and she was really starting to regret this entire phone call.

She huffed, not caring that it sent static down the line. “Fine, whatever. I’m texting you the amount. I’d like to get Andarna back on the road in the next couple days ideally. Work doesn’t wait.”

Another brief pause, then a surprised, “Andarna?”

Ugh, she did not need a hot stranger’s judgement at this point. “Yes,” she said shortly. “Goodbye, Xaden.”

She felt a fierce vindication when she heard a very audible surprised breath sucked in from his end, before she shut the line in lieu of the flipped bird she really wished she could send him instead.

She texted him her Venmo with just her first name for reference, and the amount for repairs after taking a moment to search up the required parts; then tossed her phone aside and dropped her head back on her couch’s headrest, doing her best to relax and release the tension in her neck and shoulders. It was no use, she was ten times more wound tight than she had been before the stupid phone call.

Her phone dinged three times with consecutive notifications, and she groaned, shutting her eyes tightly. She didn’t need to see what the messages read. It wasn’t important.

But her traitorous hand inched towards the phone anyway, and without opening it she read the replies on her lock screen:

X

Done.

7:43 PM

X

Violet, huh? Looks like Violence suits you.

7:44 PM

And the third was a notification confirming she had received the amount deposited into her account.

She stared at the two messages until her phone screen dimmed. This confusing man was not going to let her mind rest, clearly.

[caroline-writes]

Chapter 2: The dragon’s den 

Monday came and Monday went and Violet stayed in her apartment. Her phone had buzzed off and, on all day, and she had once again ignored every call or text that she had received. She scrolled through a list of job opportunities, pages and pages of jobs which did not appeal to her or that she was far too over qualified for. She narrowed her gaze as she saw an almost identical advert for a job at the archives, that was the last straw for her as she slammed the laptop shut and pushed herself to her feet. 

Violet picked up her phone and scrolled through the missed calls and texts before she found someone who she actually wanted to talk to: 

Rhi: If you don’t reply I’m going to assume that you’re dead and that means I get custody of Tairn so give me something girl. 

Violet: Not dead. 

Rhi: Oh, thank the gods. I was about to send Ridoc and Sawyer over there to break down your door. 

Rhi: Don’t leave me on read Vi. What’s going on? 

Violet: Lilith happened. She messed with the job I had lined up told me to be in the office today. 

Rhi: You didn’t show 

Rhi: Vi shes going to kill you 

Violet: I’d like to see her try. 

-

This was stupid. Beyond stupid, it was reckless and was bound to get her excommunicated from the family once and for all. After her little text exchange with Rhiannon, Violet had decided that if she was dead to her mother already, she might as well make it permanent. She had sent an apology text to Mira knowing that her sister would be the one who be paying the price of Violet’s insubordination. The journey today would have needed two trains and a bus, Violet’s legs hadn’t been strong enough for the walking in between so she’d ordered herself a taxi. The large modern glass facade of the building loomed above her as she stepped out of the taxi, Tairn pressed himself against her side almost immediately.  

Large metal letters spelt out Tyrrendor above the huge entrance. She was literally about to walk into the heart of enemy territory. She braced herself before pulling on Tairn’s lead and marching with purpose towards the revolving door, she stepped inside and moved into the building. The interior of the foyer opened up into a tall ceiling with wide, open, space with a long reception desk full of people waiting to greet her. Violet explained who she was and was told that she and Tairn could wait, she moved over to a large modern black leather sofa and perched on the edge. 

The competition between Tyrrendor and Navarre as pharmaceutical providers had been going since long before Violet had been born. It had always been one side or the other, and here Violet was stepping over to the dark side and betraying her family while she was at it. Her phone buzzed and she knew without looking that it was Mira calling her, she contemplated answering when a voice called her name. 

“Violet?” the voice was familiar but she couldn’t quite place it, she looked up and tried to hide her confusion as her eyes met the light blue of her neighbour turned hero, Liam, “I know I said I owed you, but coming to my work is a bit much.” she could tell that he was joking but that didn’t stop her cheeks from reddening slightly. The last thing she needed was him thinking that she was some crazy stalker. 

“No...I’m-” 

She was about to explain when a pink haired woman approached and spoke directly to her, “Sorrengail? Mr Riorson will see you now.” Violet quickly got to her feet, too quickly, she held onto the coach for a moment as stars clouded her vision. 

“Sorrengail?” She heard Liam mutter as she followed the pink haired woman towards a lift. 

Together they stepped into the lift and the pink haired woman pressed 22, they stood in silence as the lift counted up, as the doors opened on the 22nd floor Violet pulled in a deep breath. This was it. Now or never. No turning back. All of those cliches ran through her head as she fell into step once more with Tairn trotting beside her. The three of them stopped at a pair of large mahogany doors, the pink haired woman knocked twice before opening a door and ushering Violet inside. 

The room was decorated with more dark mahogany, floor to ceiling windows gave a view out over the city and standing silhouetted against the sky was the man she had come here to see, Fen Rioson turned to face her, he had a warm smile plastered to his lips which did not meet his eyes, they regarded her with calculated suspicion. 

“Please,” he extended a hand as he pointed to a high-backed leather arm chair, “Violet, take a seat. We have much to discuss.” The soft click of the door closing signalled that Violet was now alone with Fen, she followed his instruction and moved to sit in one of the leather chairs while Fen moved to sit opposite her, “I have to say that I am more than a little surprised when I saw that a Sorrengail wanted to have a meeting with me.” It wasn’t a question but he was clearly probing for the reason that she was here. 

Violet paused thinking of how much she wanted to divulge, honesty felt like it would be the best policy, “My mother,” she paused as she watched his dark eyes become momentarily hostile as they narrowed slightly, “she effectively made it clear that while I am an asset to the company, I don’t get to decide for myself who I work for so I decided that she would have no say at all.” 

Fen leaned back in the chair, he steepled his fingers and pressed them against his lips, “So you want to work here?” 

“If you’ll have me.” she reached into her bag and pulled her resume out and tried to hand it to him. 

“Violet,” he held a hand up and watched as she pulled the papers back towards herself, “I know all about your academic achievements. Your work at Navarre speaks for itself, however, I don’t know how I feel hiring a Sorrengail...now I’m sure you are nothing like your mother but the optics on this are something I have to consider.” 

Violet felt cold, she’d come here not expecting to be welcomed with open arms but to be turned away based on her name alone had not even occurred to her. “So, you’re turning me away?” she asked her hand placed carefully on the top of Tairn’s head. 

Fen blinked slowly before pursing his lips, “Not exactly.” he replied before rubbing the stubble on his chin thoughtfully before running a hand through his closely cropped salt and pepper hair, “If you’re offering me loyalty I’ll take it, but that sort of trust needs to be earnt. I don’t know enough about you Violet to say that I can trust you yet.” 

Her throat felt tight at the idea that she needed to prove her loyalty, “And that would mean?” 

He smiled at her forthright attitude, “A probationary period. You use that time to show me that this is where your loyalty lies and then we can talk contracts.” Violet nodded slowly, at this point she knew she had no other choice. It was either go crawling back to Navarre or do exactly as Fen had said and show that she could be trusted. 

- 

“You’ve lost your fucking mind! That’s it isn’t it?” Mira was livid, beyond livid, she stormed back and forth in the kitchen of Violet’s apartment, “You went to Riorson? They’re the enemy Vi!” 

Violet sat with her head back on the sofa her eyes closed as she listened to her sister pace, “Mom forced my hand. I had no other choice.” Violet’s tone was noncommittal, resigned to her fate, “He almost turned me away based on the fact that my name is Sorrengail. He trusts me about as far as he can throw me Mira, I can’t work for her any more. After all the stuff with Dain and then she sabotaged the job at the archives. I don’t understand her.” Violet sighed in annoyance that her sister didn’t seem to understand that this was truly her last option. 

Mira’s voice sounded conflicted, “I’m sure she had her reasons Vi, she always does.” 

“Yeah, the reason is she wants to control me and I am done being controlled Mira!” Violet all but shouted back at her older sister. Mira’s silence was loud, Violet opened her eyes and glanced up and Mira who looked pained, “She’s always wanted to keep me under her thumb, I get it, I’m weaker than you and Brennan ever was but I need to do this for myself.” 

Mira reached out and placed her hand on Violet’s head, “She’ll tell me I can’t see you, she’ll feed me some corporate line that if I see you again, I’ll have betrayed her.” she sounded close to tears now. 

“If she does that, she’s proving that she’s the monster I always thought she was.” Violet replies with a shrug. 

- 

Rhi: Tyrrendor really? 

Violet: News travels fast 

Rhi: Your mom is losing it 

Rhi: Like seriously she shouted at three different people today 

Violet: And she’s normally so calm. Sorry, I guess. 

Rhi: We on for coffee tomorrow? 

Violet: You telling me she hasn’t banned you from seeing me? 

Rhi: I’d like to see her try. 

Violet smiled to herself as she put her phone away Tairn pushed his nose into her knee reminding her that it was time for her evening pills, as she walked across her apartment to collect them there was a gentle knock on her door. Her sister had been gone for hours and she doubted that Rhiannon was going to be paying her a surprise visit when she was seeing her tomorrow. She walked over to the door and opened it to reveal her neighbour and now work colleague? Liam stood, at her door, with a shy smile. 

“Hi,” he greeted with a wave, “so hi, yeah...I’m having a house warming party on Friday and seeing as I guess we’re more than just neighbours and damsels in distress to one another now, I wanted to invite you.” Liam chuckled to himself and Violet couldn’t help but smile too. 

“You don’t think I’m a crazy stalker?” She asked leaning on the door frame. 

He beamed at her, “The thought did briefly cross my mind but then Imogen came to collect you so I realised you were there on more official business. I uh didn’t realise you were a Sorrengail though. I imagine that went down well.” 

“Like a lead balloon. My mother is working on having me emancipated or whatever the opposite is for when a parent no longer wants to be involved with a child.” she laughed again but stopped as she realised that Liam hadn’t joined her, “I’ll be fine, she’ll get over it and if she doesn’t, I’ll find a way make Mira come over to the dark side too.” 

“The dark side? I that what you think we are?” he quirked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. 

Violet smiled back, “I guess only time will tell.” 

Liam nodded in agreement, “Friday, 7:30, you should come. It’d be nice to actually get to know you rather picking you up off the floor or seeing you at work.” 

She blushed again at the memory of their first encounter, she was sure that she was never going to live that down, he would be re-telling that story for years to come, “Yeah that sounds good. I have physio at 6 until 7 but I’ll be sure to join when I can.” she wasn’t even sure why she had added that she had physio, something about Liam made him easy to trust. She wanted to get to know him, wanted to be his friend. 

“I’ll probably see you around the office before then but I’m looking forward to it.” he saluted her and stepped away from her door before heading into his flat number 14, he’d never actually shared which neighbour he was, she waited until he had closed his door before stepping back inside and pushing her door closed as well. She looked back at her apartment wondering for a moment what she had been about to do before he had knocked when an insistent whine from Tairn reminded her, ah yes, meds. 

[murdockdevil-newblog]

5 Times the sunsets.

Title: 8 times Sunsets. Prompt: 5 times + Sunsets. sent by rhi <3 @gothamrains Who: A Bunch of OCS. Universe: Lonestar. Notes: Just writing the Lonestar crew doing what they're doing to lead up to finding Tish in the nightmare dimension. Words: 1, 243k

Professor Reed.

Professor Reed looks forward to sunsets. It's when her classes end and the little mice known as her test subjects, uhm, students…get to go home and she gets to calculate her studies.

She likes that, because she doesn't have to deal with little children who don't listen and she gets to spend time with numbers. Numbers make her happy, after all. And children don't.

So, when the pinks and oranges of the sunset show themselves, she always smiles to herself at the thought of getting the classroom to herself and then closing the curtains to do math. That smile grows even wider when her students wave bye to her and that thought becomes a reality.

"Gods, do I hate this job," Professor Reed whispers to herself once the last child is out the door.

She does not realize that one student is not exactly herself.

(Years Later...Those Students, Now Grown)

Leticia Reis.

It is Hell, this nightmare dimension.

Sure, everyone jokes about getting stuck in a nightmare dimension as a child. Or living through their own personal Hell. But the thing about Tish is, well, she's actually had to do both. She's actually had to live through her own Hell of a nightmare dimension.

What's worse, is that it was of her own making. Or rather, her doppelganger's making. And she's stuck having to deal with this world, due to that doppelganger's bullshit.

And as much as she wants to escape, she can't. All she can do is look forward to the sunsets everyday, and live life as a wanted outlaw, until she figures out how to escape and how to get her life back.

Reyna Stokes

Reyna pulls back on her bow, the arrow springing back as she watches the sunset. As much as she'd like to say it was ideal weather for shooting at targets, it was too bright out and the sunsetting was making it more of a challenge and she needed a challenge.

Danger, after all, didn't wait. And if Tish was going to come back for their little found family to kill them, she would need to have the skill to kill her if she needed to.

But did she want to?

Not necessarily.

Something about Tish didn't seem like her Tish, but she didn't want to say that. Every time she mentioned that to Tommy he got all butthurt. So, she avoided the comment, and kept it to herself. The idea of Tish not being Tish did make the idea of defending the others easier. However, it did have her wonder where their Tish was, had that been the case.

Tommy Holmes

Usually too caught up in his studies to pay much attention to the sunset, Tommy is startled by how beautiful the Sunset is today when he opens the window to his lab. He's surprised even more by how the lights refract and hit inside the lab just right and cause little glittered specs across his walls. It's beautiful in his eyes. Almost makes him forget that he's supposed to be working on something for the crew to have as a weapon against threats.

..Threats like Tish.

The sunset hits his pale skin, and he sighs at its beauty and he continues to stare at it until the sun is fully gone. Then he begins to work in his lab as though his life depends on it.

Because, in a way, it does.

Tish cannot be trusted.

Elaine West

Laying in a bed full of money, Elaine has used her powers for what could be called selfishness. But what she has called fulfilling an itch others would scratch had they been in her nice red bottom shoes.

She knows the others are busy with the whole Tish thing, but she doesn't care about all of that. She doesn't give a damn quite frankly.

If she's going to die, may as well be killed by someone who went to Lonestar like her. May as well be killed by someone who was instructed by the same shitty professor.

And as she lays in her pile of money, drinking expensive champagne from a crystal glass, that's all she can think as she the sunsets behind her.

Shane Reyes

To Shane this all seems wrong. Even as he investigates this mess while the sunsets, all he can think is "This isn't the Tish we grew up with" because he recalls the Tish they grew up with seeing monsters. Monsters like the ones they fight.

So in his eyes, as the orange hues of the sunset hit his skin, he can't help but to think that maybe, just maybe, that a monster has replaced Tish somehow.

He doesn't have proof of it. Doesn't have any at all. But he knows deep in his gut, and his gut is never wrong. Only thing is, Tommy would tell him it was, and Tommy's their leader or whatever the fuck.

Clara Noel

Clara has a dream about Tish and her playing by Galveston beach while the sunsets. Why Galveston? She doesn't know. She hasn't been there since they were children and the water there has always been her least favorite around. However, she knows that in her dream Tish is singing a song about double trouble, and they kept playing double Dutch by the water.

It makes Clara think there's something about another Tish, as Reyna had brought up in a meeting once. But Tommy had dismissed it automatically. So she wonders if Tommy's wrong. Because her dreams are never wrong.

Andrew Castillo

Everyone assumes Andy's the dumb one, but Andy's pretty smart. He knows shit okay. More than anyone dare give him credit for. He just plays stupid because people ask less of him that way.

So, when the others start looking into Tish, because they think she's dangerous. His immediate thought is that she's not — her doppelganger is the dangerous one. Or her evil twin. Some double identity shit.

And he knows this because he knows Tish would never hurt them. She was always protecting them. She was, and will always be a protector. Which is why, as the sunsets, he can't help but to think about how anyone could think of any other scenario.

James Andrews

James works with Shane as a private investigator, but he doesn't see the Tish scenario in the same light. He thinks Tish is bomb waiting to happen, because when they were younger, Tish tackled him and she hit him hard.

He would never forget it or let it go. He probably should, but in his mind. It was a sign she could explode at any moment. So, he investigated her whereabouts during the sunset, ready to use his power if need-be, and not afraid of her.

Though she was once part of their found family, she was not currently.

Verity Lange

Verity had once loved Tish. Which was why she was on team 'doppelganger' as she gazed out into the sunset. She did not believe that Tish would ever hurt any of them without being provoked. And whoever this person was, they were attacking just to attack.

They had also forgotten the nickname that Tish called Verity, so Verity knew that this was an imposter.

However, Tommy insisted this was all wrong. They were all wrong. So, she had to believe him. Or really, fuck Tommy. Because, you know what, Verity was going to rip through the fabric of reality to find Tish. And she was going to convince the others to join her somehow.

[janedoeswriting]

The Way The Wind Blows (Stiles x OC) Chapter Eight

Description: Rhiannon finds herself trapped within her guilty pleasure tv show— Teen Wolf. Now, she must choose which path to take… one that leads back home, and another that follows uncertain adventure.

Tags: extreme slow burn, frienemies to lovers, fix it fic, canon change, actions have consequences.

TW: angst, fluff, sexual harassment, anxiety, depression, obsession, domestic violence, manipulation, etc. Just please do not read if you are sensitive to difficult subjects.

It took a week to convince the Sheriff that Lydia Martin was a trustworthy chauffeur. It took a lot of groveling, and convincing. In the end, it took Lydia showing up to the house to help Rhiannon convince him. She was very good at debates. In the end, he gave in. "Fine. But only because you're on the," he waved his hands around, "homecoming.. committee thing. When you don't have that after school, you come straight. here. When Stiles and Scott aren't at practice, you ride with Stiles, got it?" He firmly said. Rhiannon nodded, but couldn't help the grin that had blossomed on her face.

Sheriff Stilinski had seemingly permanently developed dark circles under his eyes. He seemed to have aged years within the past few weeks. Of course, Rhiannon's return had helped. But with her bringing no useful information about her kidnapping back with her, he reverted back to the endlessly distracted and exhausted man with the weight of the town on his shoulders.

She had felt so guilty about this that everyday after Stiles had finally finished his practices and Lydia and Rhi had finished with Homecoming committee, Rhi would force Stiles to drive her to the Sheriff's station so she could deliver a hot meal to him while he finished up his work. The FBI agents lingering around the station always eyed her with a hungry sort of interest. None of them, thankfully, suspected her. She was ever-the-dutiful foster daughter who had seemingly gotten lucky beyond belief after escaping a serial kidnapper.

"Maybe you could teach me self defense," she offered one day as she was dropping off chicken parmesan. "I'm sure it would make you feel better." Of course, this was all chipping away at that stony determination of his to protect Rhi. He had a right to as well, so Rhi couldn't even blame him. As her sole guardian and everything they had gone through with her disappearance, he must have felt the full gravity of what had happened to her.

"I'm sure that would." he chuckled, unwrapping the aluminum foil with a sort of greed. "But, I don't have much time."

"Allison is on the archery team," Rhiannon offered. The truth was, she had also grown deeply interested in Allison and her father. They were immensely skilled, and if Rhiannon managed to learn a thing or two from them it could be the difference between life and death. The wendigo was sheer luck. She couldn't allow herself to be put in a position again that would require someone else to come and save her.

The sheriff had laughed. "Archery? Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Rhiannon shrugged, but laughed too. "No, I guess I can't be carrying around a bow and arrow everywhere to ward off kidnappers."

They had slowly grown easier around the subject. Mr. Stilinski still didn't make jokes, but he didn't stiffen or grow cold when Rhiannon lightheartedly made light jabs here and there. "You should try out anyway, huh? Get more involved in different things. Allison is a good girl."

This implied he thought Lydia was not as good of a girl as Allison. Which wasn't wrong. "And it would be good to have a sport on your college applications." he added. Rhiannon shrugged. She had voiced no interest in attending college, but she also hadn't brought herself to express this. She could tell it was the sort of household that expected college, or at least some sort of plan. He didn't know that she did have a plan. One that didn't involve staying in this world, much less attending college there.

So she kept silent and nodded. "I can try it out. Its after school Tuesdays and Thursdays." She explained.

"Good! The days you don't have homecoming stuff. If you make the team you won't have to wait around for Stiles to finish practice." This was true, but Rhiannon attempted to breach the subject as she always did.

"I wouldn't have to wait around if-," she started, but as always he shut it down.

Eventually she give up the gig after a bit of back and forth and said her farewells.

"Tell me when you get home," Rhiannon always added. Lately with the Sheriff's late nights and early mornings, she asked him to knock on her door when he got home so she knew he was safe. She couldn't help but be apprehensive with the darach on the loose and the unpredictability of her next movements. Rhiannon had no clue when she would strike next, or to whom. She couldn't remember details-- just knew that they had to keep an eye on "healers". She had at least managed to scare Scott into bringing his mother dinner every night and keeping a close watch on her as well.

At the very least Mrs. McCall was safe.

"Thank you!!" Rhiannon exclaimed the day the Sheriff had finally given in to her berading. She hugged him in the kitchen. When Rhiannon pulled away he pointed a stern finger at Lydia, who smiled innocently. "Straight home. No detours, no shopping, no parties." "Of course, sheriff." Lydia said.

It was a Friday night and Rhiannon was stuck inside the house. Stiles and Scott were as well, of course, but that was their own choice. Rhiannon wished she could be a normal teenager. Lydia and her went to Rhiannon's room and she sighed. "I wish we could go to parties," Rhiannon longingly said. "Nah, they're barely any fun aways." Lydia said, picking up and beginning to solve a rubix cube Rhiannon had stolen from Stiles. "I know you're lying." Rhiannon responded, collapsing on her bed and hugging her pillows before rolling on her side. She picked up a magazine and began flipping through it unenthusiastically. It was one Isaac had lent her, depicting cool pictures of rockstars and recent news about them.

"Well why don't I host one?" Lydia offered. Rhiannon looked at her. Lydia chuckled. "I've never even been to your house because I'm 'not allowed'." Rhiannon said glumly and mimicked his stern voice. "Well what if I invited him too? We can keep it family friendly, invite all our friend's parents." "He wouldn't go he doesn't have time for anything fun. Plus, while they think we're on our best behavior we can sneak a little something into our cups," Lydia said suggestively. "He wont agree to go to party while people are getting kidnapped left and right." "Tell him it'll be a good way to unite the community. He could lecture parents on keeping close eyes on their children."

Rhiannon hummed, unconvinced.

"Besides, he could let loose. He looks terrible." Rhiannon moaned. "I know," she said as she rolled onto her back. "I feel so bad." "It's not your fault."

Rhiannon knew better than that, but before she could get another word out her door burst open. "Rhi-," he started, but saw Lydia and stopped in his tracks and fumbled around, coughing. "Lydia! Didn't know you were here." he squeaked out.

He was holding an old acoustic guitar in one hand while wearing burnt oven mits, a helmet from world war II, his boxer shorts, a frilly apron, and aviator goggles. "Rooting around the attic?" Rhiannon asked with a raised brow. It was just like Stiles to get distracted while looking for something. He was wearing the evidence all over himself. Lydia turned with an exasperated expression and returned to the rubix cube. "Y-yeah. This was my granddad's," he said, setting the dusty guitar on Rhi's bed. He looked ready to run out, but Scott appeared in the doorway, who must have just returned from giving his mother dinner.

"Playing dress up?" Scott asked. Stiles let out a frustrated grunt and flicked the oven mits onto the floor before stomping out. Scott turned and met Rhiannon's eyes. They both held equally amused expressions and broke into laughter.

"Arn't you guys going to your house?" Rhiannon asked Scott. Scott leaned against the doorframe with crossed arms. Lydia turned back around and set the the finished rubix cube on the desk.

"No, my mom is working the night shift. She said we're grounded from having sleepovers without her there." "What, break a priceless heirloom?" Lydia asked sarcastically. It must have been something similar though, because Scott laughed guiltily and scratched the back of his neck.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "You can't stay here. We're having a sleepover tonight." "You two?" Scott asked. "Us three." Another voice joined in. Allison appeared in the threshold holding her duffle bag and an easy smile.

Scott blinked and opened and closed his mouth. Allison smiled at him.

"I already told da-, er- Mr. Stilinski that we're having a sleepover tonight." Rhiannon said. Scott seemed to struggle to tear his eyes away from Allison, but when he did he looked like a confused puppy.

Allison let herself in and set her bag down next to Lydia's. Rhiannon got up out of bed and stormed out to the living room. The sheriff was cracking open a beer and sitting on the couch with his feet up.

"Stiles and Scott are staying here tonight?" She asked. "Melissa asked me if they could and I said yes." he said. "But you said Allison and Lydia could sleepover." Rhiannon whined. "They can." "You're letting them sleepover while my friends are here?" Rhiannon asked in disbelief. "Oh come on, Rhiannon. I thought you liked Scott and Stiles." he said. "I do, when they aren't annoying my friends." "Do Scott and Stiles annoy you?" the sheriff asked, leaning back. Allison, Scott, and Lydia had followed her to the living room and were standing at the edge of the hallway. Allison shook her head with a pleasant smile. "No."

"Yes." Lydia said, crossing her arms. "Oh, you'll be fine." the sheriff responded, turning back to the game and turning up the volume. "But-," she started. There was a crash behind them. Stiles was on the floor in the hallway and everyone stepped aside to look at him. Rhiannon turned with her hand outstretched as this was explanation enough. The sheriff looked sympathetic, but said, "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Rhiannon groaned. Stiles had collected himself and was now standing next to Rhiannon.

"Yup! It'll be great!" he exclaimed and turned to Rhiannon. "The whole gang's all here. Hangin' out, havin' a sleepover." he said excitedly. Rhiannon punched his arm. He slapped her upside the head. She was about to leap on him when the sheriff stepped in and caught her around the stomach and Stiles staggered back.

"Girls in Rhiannon's room, boys in Stiles'. Move out."

Rhiannon swiftly marched to her room and waited on the girls. Before she slammed the door shut she peeked her head out and sent Stiles a middle finger when the sheriff wasn't looking. He tried to do it back but ran face-first into the threshold.

"Ugh I can't stand him!" She exclaimed to her friends. Allison was digging through her bag and Lydia was back at Rhiannon's desk. Lydia had taken to inspecting her perfect hair in the mirror and Allison pulled out a gun.

"WHA-t is that?!" Rhiannon exclaimed loudly at first and then softened her voice to a hushed whisper as she stepped forward as if to hide the weapon from prying eyes.

"You said you wanted some protection." Allison said innocently, as if this were the most obvious course of action. She was referring back to when Rhiannon had a conversation with Allison while she was attempting to learn archery at the school. She had sucked so badly, Rhiannon had completely given up the skill entirely.

"Yeah not a gun. I don't even know how to use it!" She bit out. Allison smirked and disarmed it, catching the amo with her other hand and pressing them separately into each one of Rhiannon's hands.

"This is the magazine," she instructed, "and this is the pistol. Safety off," she clicked a switch, "and on. Never point a weapon at anyone. Even as a joke, even if it's unarmed, and even with safety on."

Rhiannon absorbed the information like a sponge, tentatively alert as she took in Allison's words. Her heart had started to pound the moment the weapon was laid in her hands. Lydia was leaning forward too, pretending to be nonchilantly filing her nails but she had a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

"The barrel, trigger, magazine release. Put it in." Allison gestured to each part. Rhiannon took the magazine and attempted to shove it in. Allison turned it around in her hand. Rhiannon blushed and smiled awkwardly, and then shoved it hard inside. It clicked into place. "Slide stop. Go ahead and click it."

Rhiannon did. The top of the pistol slid back. "See this empty space? A bullet would normally sit here. Push it back and lock it again." Rhiannon did. She moved slower and clumsier than Allison, and the gun was harder to operate than how it looked on tv.

"Click the mag release button." Rhianon did and caught the magazine the same way Allison had. "Good. Hold it up and look down the sight." Rhiannon pointed it at the floor and extended her arms. Allison adjusted her hand's position and pointed to the groove at the top. "This is the back sight and this is the front. Always keep a firm frame when aiming. When you fire, plant your feet, lean back slightly, and stand up straight."

Rhiannon relaxed and handed the weapon back into Allison's open palms. She pressed them into a padded case and locked it shut. "The code is 0000. Change it so only you know the password. It's important to keep your weapons safe and hidden." Rhiannon nodded, taking the black case from her friend and staring down at it as if she was holding a bomb. She swiftly made her way to her closet and shoved it on the top shelf underneath piles of blankets and pillows.

"I'll take you to the range soon. It's easier to learn when you're actually shooting." Allison said. "No kidding." Lydia commented.

Rhiannon turned back. Her heart swelled. "Thank you, Allison." It was sincere, and soft. Allison laughed. "Of course, Rhiannon. It's nothing."

The door slammed open.

Scott barreled in alert as ever. Stiles was hot at his heels. Scott looked around the room like he’d expected to run into a hideous beast attacking his friends.

“What’s happening? Why was there—,” he hesitated to a low whisper, “gunpowder.”

There was an awkward moment of silence. Rhiannon looked at them with a murderous glare.

“Get. OUT!” She yelled and slammed the door in their faces.

—

[glacierbash]

ok i'll bite. who is gecko kenshi, why is she so cool, and why does she sit Like That?

The worms are flying OUT of this can. Gecko Kenshi time.

I started this Kenshi run ~6 months ago, where it was originally just Truth the bug guy. Gecko was the very first person I recruited. I went into a little outpost, talked to her, and she threatened to pull her pants down. I knew I needed her in my party now, so I ran around for 30 minutes to get enough money to recruit her.

Gecko is not martially skilled. She’s not a very good fighter. She can defend herself with a weapon, but that’s about it. What Gecko is, however, is STRONG. Specifically, Gecko is strong enough to carry a person without suffering a major speed loss. Situation 1 in which rhis was helpful: one hour after opening up the save again for the first time in months, I fuck up an assassination attempt and suddenly we’re being fought by two guys much stronger than us at fighting. Even though I have a party of 3, it’s bad. We win, but barely, and we just barely escape the city. Gecko collapses into the dying state, and Truth goes into a coma. It’s Spade (the third Kenshi freak) who saves both of them from bleeding out, but Spade no longer has a working right leg!! So she can no longer stand!!! After about 5 IRL minutes of terrified waiting, Gecko rises and I know what must be done.

I have Gecko pick up Truth and hide him, then I have her carry Spade and run until we find a place selling prosthetic limbs. Gecko carries Spade through a jungle raining acid, avoiding wildlife that can and would kill and eat them, all while Gecko is malnourished and starting to starve. She is still running at 20 MPH consistently. That is not a sprint. That is her jog. She carries Gecko into a town, buys her a leg, but—you can’t amputate in this game! You can’t just cut off limbs! So, the next best thing: have Gecko carry Spade over to a river of acid, so Spade can swim in it until her leg falls off, and then replace it with the prosthetic. It works!! And now Spade’s alive and well!

Second situation in which Gecko being strong and fast saves the day. My team needs a backpack, bad. Specifically to train their strength, but they need it. On my way to a shop that should sell some, however, I see a battle happening in the distance. It resolves before I reach it, but out charges the “Hungry Bandits,” the weakest faction in game. They will do nothing but rob you of your food. But, I’m carrying thousands of the in-game currently, cats, in food! And I know we’ll lose! Rather than run, however, I have EVERYBODY throw all their food into Gecko’s inventory, who takes off running and doesn’t look back. She far outpaces the bandit that follows after her, leading him to his tragic end at the point of a town guard’s blade.

Gecko returns to find the party bloody and knocked out, but alive. She heals them up, but just as the party goes to continue onwards, MORE bandits of a stronger faction spill out and attack the starving bandits, an all out bandit war where both of them agree they want to kill, or at least incapacitate, us. Gecko is the hero, but not by her fighting prowess or her bravery. Gecko runs, and fast. Once again, she grabs the town guard, who sprint out to put an end to this fighting. Gecko hides in the distance, staring at the carnage until it dies down, noticing that all three of her companions are in a recovery coma.

So, knowing that there’s sure to be more bandits in this little crossroad, Gecko goes and picks up one of the party members (a new recruit named Ruka), and carries her in town, and into a bed, which speeds up recovery by 8x. She goes and grabs Spade, healing her from the dying state before putting her, too, into a bed. All that leaves is Truth, but Gecko sees something terrible as she approaches: Slavers, approaching him. If they grabbed Truth, thered be almost no way to get him back, save for getting strong enough to raid the camp. The slavers could knock her out easily, but she wasn’t about to abandon her captain.

She charges in, picking up Truth, and just as the slavers point her out, she’s sprinting away. 20 MPH. She outruns even their fastest footsoldier, and they give up chase just as Gecko makes it into the third and final bed, putting Truth in before she stumbles downstairs to the bar, and orders herself a drink.

You see, Gecko sits like that because her back hurts from carrying the party. Truth may be the first character I made for this save, but Gecko is becoming my favorite. She’s a hero when she doesn’t wanna be. She’s survived being chased by an entire horde of bandits, getting shot in the head, and survived. She’s TWICE gotten people prosthetic limbs because Truth ALSO lost his leg, and she carried him. She’s the hero. She’s MY hero.

[eggs-can-draw]

komaeda anin: I CANT BELIEVE I MISSED KOMAEDA TALK

but no yeah oughghghhg i actually had this whole thing where komaeda, on impulse, runs away from Jabberwock (actually i have an idea for this au, what if thats how rantaro got to jabberwock, he followed komaeda, komaeda recognizes him as the kid who could withstand his bouts of bad luck but he doesn't say anything bc rantaro wont say anything and there's just rhis mutual understanding anyways—)

he expects to be caught, of course, no way he wouldn't be, he just needed time though, time to really look at the damage they've done and the healing Makoto and co have been doing, maybe do something to actively help instead of cause destruction

(and maybe that help was leading a lost kid to find a new home—)

but when he gets found, he didn't expect for the one to find him to be Peko and Fuyuhiko, he didn't expect to find a drone being controlled by Kazuichi, he didn't expect them to bring food that TeruTeru made specifically for him because he's on a strict diet because of his health

he didn't expect to find Akane and Nekomaru catching up to them, they're loud and they're big and yet they still managed to have sneaked out or got permission to head out despite the danger of being recognized

Sonia an Gundham come too, saying that he's one of them, that there's a darkness tainting all of us, we're all the same

it's Hajime who appears last, asking him, "want to go home?"

and.

and Komaeda wants to.

(actually i forgot what the title of the fic was, sobs, but there's this one fic where he went to his parents' graves for one last goodbye and what if thats where they all meet and the gang sees the shoddily cleaned grave bc Komaeda's still healing so they all help clean it up—)

You fool the komaeda talk never stops he is Nagito Komaeda on the Nintendo DS he is Nagito_Komaeda_Nonstop_Debate_Mugshot.png which my laptop auto corrects to every fucking time he is fingers in his ass guy HE CAN AND WILL COCONUT MALL YOU and there is no escaping him I love this. So fucking much. Just. AAAAAWAWA The THEMES esp if he’s visiting his parents cause like. He went steeped in his own past and quite literally led the future home. And just. AAAAGH.

Also just the thought of lil Rantaro Appearing on Jabberwock like maybe a week or two after Komaeda goes back and he just. He just has a moment of “….wait a fucking minute” (and just Little Rantaro seeing this disaster of a guy and going “yeah imma just follow him he looks like he knows what he’s doing”)

And wanting to actually SEE that the world is healing! He wants to see the new hope after the BIG BAD DESPAIR. He wants to see that things really do get better and mmmmmm that scratches the brain in all the best ways.

ALSO ALSO KOMAEDA BEING CONFRONTED WITH THE FACT THAT FUCK. HIS FRIENDS CARE ABOUT HIM AND WOULD MISS HIM IF HE DISAPPEARED. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOUGGH

[mutual-monsters]

oh, how the mighty fall in love

Pairing: Steve Kemp x transmasc!reader

TW: dark story!!! (kinda dead dove: do not eat), dark/yandere themes, smut, cannibalism mentions (duh), kidnapping, implied noncon/dubcon, petnames (pet, good boy, darling, pup, puppy, sweet boy, slut, baby boy, baby), very heavy breeding kink, praise kink, degredation, bondage, sir kink, oral (ftm/ftnb receiving), p in v sex, the fic being very self-indulgent, not beta’d

Again, as with all of my dark fics, this work is purely fiction and is not meant to reflect my values, morals, or wants. Please always prioritize consent, and, obviously, don’t go out doing things you read about in my fics.

MINORS DNI !!! 🔞

Summary: Steve Kemp keeps you in a cell for breeding (instead of his usual fare)

Word count: 972

A/N: Will I ever stop writing dark fics? Who’s to say. Anywho, this is based on a prompt I sent to Rhi a few days ago, but I ended up taking a spin on it as well (it weighed on my mind v heavy folks ✊😔)

Admittedly, there are things about this fic that I don’t like. I don’t like how much it looks like it’s first draft. I don’t like how barebones it feels. I certainly don’t like how rushed it was. However, both of the people I usually count on to help me beta were unable to this time, so, I proceeded with what I had. I hope it’s quality doesn’t hinder its enjoyment too much.

The title is from The Mighty Fall by Fall Out Boy and Big Sean

Tagging those who might like this: @strwbrrybucky @navybrat817 @bonky-n-steeb

You can hear him as he unlocks the basement door and descends the stairs and can’t help but wonder, why me?

You had been in Steve’s basement for three days. So far, he’d given you clothes, food, and his kindness, but he was terrifying. You knew what he did, you knew what he was, he made sure of that. What he also made sure of was to let you know that you weren’t there for the same reason as the others. And that, that was what scared you.

His footsteps resound and he walks down the long corridor of cells, past all the others, and directly to yours. The lock beeps and it clicks open, and the door opens to see him, dressed casually, smirking, and ready to see you.

“Hiya, pup.”

“H-Hi, Steve.”

His mouth twitches briefly as he revels in your fear.

“Do you know why I’m here?”

You shake your head “no”.

“I’m gonna tell you but you’re gonna freak out.”

Pangs of fear rack your frame.

“Does that mean you’re going to hurt me?”

He chuckles darkly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I just wanna pump that belly of yours full of cum. Can you be a good boy and let me do that?”

Feebly, you nod, unsure of the man looming above you. He leans down, unhooking you from the chain binding you to the concrete below.

“Are you gonna behave for me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

He pats your cheek lightly. “Good boy.”

The cell door slides open swiftly in his hands, he peers back at you, ushering you forward. A long narrow corridor, filled with cell doors, one’s just the one that had been holding you mere moments ago.

His hand holds yous and he leads you, gripping you fiercely. His skin is soft, too soft for someone who does what he does, you whimper upon contact. The two of you arrive at a new room, all the way at the end of the hall, what must have been a cell, converted now to reflect his desires. The space is fresh, new.

“I made this just for you.” He says, as if it’s a gesture of affection.

The room, instead of barren, sits filled with a bed, a plush king, but that is not what catches your eye. No, instead you focus on the bearings, prepared to strap you to the thing, leather and silk in here instead of the cold, rusted iron of your former cell.

He seethes quietly behind you, only speaking up after the silence is broken by another prisoner’s scream.

“Say, ‘thank you’, pet.” His teeth are gritted now, his hold on you becoming painful.

“T-thank you, sir. I love it.” He leans down, plants a gentle kiss upon your scalp.

“Good boy. Strip for me.”

You oblige him, slowly taking the dressings he provided you and tossing them to the floor. He looks at you, fully exposed now, as if you were prey.

“You are a delicacy, you know that?” He is brutal, that is a given, but his tender moments balance the scales.

“Lay back for me, darling.”

How could you deny him? On the bed, he adjusts the cuffs on both your hands and ankles gently, careful not to tighten them too much.

“Is it alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

He takes your chin in his hand.

“I promise to be gentle, pet. I just want to make love to you.”

Kissing down your body now, finding his way to your pussy, he licks gently at first, then all at once attacks your clit, sending you into near shock. Your hips buck, he holds them down, feasting on you. Your hands, bound, have nothing to grab. Nails dig into your very palms as pain starts to mix into pleasure. You’re begging now, begging to cum, of course, he allows, flicking his tongue rapidly on your sensitive bud, raising his pupils to stare you down as your orgasm washes over you.

Him crawling over you, allowing your mind to register his presence above you; menacing and dominant. He leans in, forcing his hot breath to seep over the nape of your neck as he whispers in your ear.

“Gonna breed you, puppy. Gonna make you swell up with my bastards again and again and again until you’re fuckin’ useless. It’s all you’re good for, anyway.”

He pulls away, smugly, a smirk gracing his lips.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, sweet boy?”

Clouded with lust, knowing there is no other choice, you nod feverishly.

A soft kiss to your temple.

“Good slut.”

He thrusts unexpectedly into your hole unabashedly, a squeal escapes your throat involuntarily. His pace is fast and rough, unsteady like bursts of fireworks. The headboard bangs the wall threateningly.

“F-Fuck, baby boy, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Like a damn vice. Such a sweet fuckin’ cunt. So warm and wet.”

Your body fights the restraints, desperate to hold onto him, they do not budge. Steve continues inside you, adding his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles, and whispering praises in your ear.

“Gonna be so pretty, baby. Oh, God. Hmm, fuck. Just like that, puppy. ‘M so close. Want you to cum right with me. Can you do that for me?”

You whine in response, and he understands, cumming deep in your fertile womb, filling you up.

“Oh, fuck. Shit.”

Blissed out, he stays in you, waiting for the moment to pass, and when it does, he pulls a plug from the side table to fill the hole he no longer occupies. He pulls a pillow as well, propping up your hips and covering you with the blanket, but leaving you bound by your restraints.

Before leaving, he turns to you with a small, delighted smile.

“I’ll be back in a bit to try again, okay, pup?”

You smile right on back, accepting that maybe, just maybe, this is where you are meant to be.

[cassiabaggins]

Cassia Baggins (oc)

Name: Cassia Baggins

Age/DOB: August 13th, 2909 TA (Shire Reckoning) (32 at the time of the BOTFA)

Gender/pronouns: Female, she/her

Species: Hobbit

Timeline: The Hobbit, LOTR

Physical Description: Cassia takes after her mother in looks. She is short and plump like all hobbits, with dark brown, curly hair, dark blue eyes, and a snub nose. She has an hourglass body shape and full lips, and lots and lots of freckles all over her body, but mostly on her face and shoulders... basically any part of her skin that sees the sun! Her faceclaim is Anna Popplewell, but I imagine Cassia with a bit of a rounder face! Cassia also has pointed ears and large, furry feet like all hobbits.

Personality Description: Cassia is hotheaded and adventurous, just a chaotic little gremlin. She is stubborn, mischievous, and determined, but also friendly and outgoing. She loves to try new things and ever since she was a young child, longed to see more of the world due to all the adventures her mother told her about! She has a penchant for trouble and always tends to get in ridiculous situations. She’s also a romantic at heart, and somewhat immature/naive and this can lead to her being taken advantage of. Frankly, Cassia is extremely empathetic. Maybe too much. She feels everything very strongly, and that tends to make her a bit of a crybaby at times as she will cry at any strong emotion, fear, anger, joy, sadness... But whenever someone needs her help or her comfort, she’s there immediately, not only with kind words and a hug, but with a warm slice of pie or a warm drink and a blanket, because sometimes you need some creature comforts. She gives great hugs and even better backrubs, and is great at giving advice. She loves children and is very motherly and sometimes certain parties (Kili) call her ‘mom’ jokingly. People always know they can come to her for anything and she’ll do everything within her power to help them. She’s their confidante, not just their queen.

Significant Other (if any): Fili 

Family: Mother: Belladonna Took, Father: Bungo Baggins, Brother: Bilbo Baggins, Brother in Law: Kili, Sister in Law: Rhis, Mother in Law: Dis, Uncle in Law: Thorin Oakenshield, Children: Thorin IV, Kirin, Arnin, Belladonna II, Vilrin, Frerin II, Corin, Columbine, Leifrin, Eglantine, Elestren, and Daffodil

Backstory (includes SPOILERS for An Extra Burglar!!!): Cassia is Bilbo’s little sister, Belladonna and Bungo Baggins’ youngest child and only daughter. She was an accident baby, born 18 years after Bilbo and while the Baggins’ had always hoped for another child, she was born well after they expected one to come along! Left to be raised by her brother when her parents died when Cassia was 17 (Bungo) and 25 (Belladonna), she always felt a bit out of place. She was too Tookish for a Baggins and too Baggins-y for a Took, stuck in an awkward in between. Her closest friends were Delphinia Greenholm (something of an older sister to Cassia) and Lobelia Bracegirdle (eventually Sackville-Baggins). Six months before Gandalf volunteered Cassia and Bilbo for Thorin’s adventure, Cassia became involved with Allen Proudfoot. Bilbo was very hopeful she would finally settle down and stop talking about adventures, and she did. For a time. Three months into a very promising relationship, Cassia found out Allen had been seeing her friend Lobelia on the side and this discovery resulted in Cassia dumping Allen very publicly, having a huge fight with Lobelia, and throwing herself back into the troublemaking ways of her childhood as a rebellion. When Gandalf arrives, Cassia is more than happy to become a burglar for the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. She immediately gets along with Fili and Kili, though her relationship with Thorin is rather strained at the beginning due to her anger over his treatment of Bilbo. Over the adventure, she grows close to Fili. Very close. She ends up falling in love with him, but is unsure if he reciprocates, and, wary of love due to her past experiences, contents herself with the idea that they are simply not meant to be. However, Fili confesses to her near the end of the Quest and they start courting, meaning to marry the next year, but the Battle of the Five Armies and Thorin’s resulting death throws a wrench into their plans, as Fili is crowned King of Erebor. Cassia returns to the Shire with her brother for a time, but some months later, she goes back to Erebor, marries the love of her life, and has 12 children with him. Read more about her in this fanfic I am writing!

Gallery: one  two  three  four  five  six  seven  eight    and more!

[lyrker]

POST YOUR LIST I BEG YOU

I WILL I WILL BUT I AM ON EPISODE 76 I AM NEARING THE END OF SEASON TWO SO ILL MAKE IT AFTER I FINISH!!!!! fffuck i’m so invested in this there’s so many things happening so many things that could be connected so many things that could really be false leads because rhis show would do that to you and i’m not sure what to trust but Jon. after this episode, Jon’s seeing that Not!Sasha isnt sasha? i think that’s what i’m getting at. He’s understanding somehow and i dont understand why so suddenly but he is!!! omg she’s gonna get exposed as an imposter what an L.

I like melanie and jon duo if they could just Get Along they would be such a fun ghost nerdy duo

yeah but these listening have made me so afraid of the dark. I walk into my hall and all i feel is a crawling shiver up my back and i plead the spirits don’t eat my ass

this show is not doing me well 💀it’s too investing though HAHBSHXBSB

[seijorhi]

Jeez, it took me almost an entire day to collect my thoughts about SftS, but after reading your asks and taking time to think about it all I have to say is wow.

I just want to preface that Oikawa was never a character I found attractive WHATSOEVER until I started reading your works. Even though you made him so disgusting?? in this I can’t help but still love him because of how well you write his obsession with the reader.

Also i have no idea why but it’s just so funny to me the way he’s like offended when readers dad asked if he killed her…as if he didn’t murder the rest of her family in cold blood.

Which leads me to talking about how that last scene was written from his POV and the way he was thinking about stuff?? He’s so despicable. Murdering a child *with mercy!! Such a great guy 😁👍 Although he did NOT hesitate to justify the readers stepmothers death. Reader never wanted her dead but he used her dislike towards her as fuel to take out his violent tendencies.

Besides reader, I also feel so bad for her father. You could tell he was holding everything back after hearing about his wife and son. The fact he was blindsided by Oikawa in the end too. He didn’t even have to time to think about how reader was going to be tricked and comforted by the man who hurt her the most 😞 anyways r.i.p.

I wanted to ask does Oikawa love reader in any way? Because you said that he wants to challenge himself by playing with her. So I know he doesn’t care if he hurts he, I mean he murdered her family and staged a traumatic event 🤷‍♀️ but I can’t tell if he’s one of those yanderes who’s just sick for no reason or sick because he lives the reader.

I also wanted to ask if he is one of those sick yanderes, would he reach a point where he gets bored and just outright tells reader that he murdered her family just to stir shit up?

Anyhow, RHI, i just wanted to tell you that it was absolutely phenomenal and it left me in shock. I saw none of that coming.

<33 bby my heart is all warm n fluttery reading this 🥺

But oh, Oikawa’s wholly and utterly enamoured with the reader. That doesn’t stop him from being a selfish, amoral asshole – if anything it enables those behaviours. He justified what he did to her step-mom, even to an extent what he did to her brother, all out of love of the reader.

He’ll justify a hell of a lot worse than murder if it comes down to keeping her safe and within reach.

Now I don’t think he’d outright admit to killing her family – not unless she asked him directly. He enjoys the domesticity, the willingness of it all too much to give it up so easily. The casual affection and the dependence/trust she has in him. The trauma bond of going through something awful like that and only having Oikawa at the end of it.

I think if it never came out, and they lived the rest of the lives laying low, oikawa taking jobs from shitty (well paying) people to do bad things and then returning home to his sweet little wifey, Oikawa would die a happy man.

But he’s not opposed to the truth coming out, either. He’ll love her if she’s oblivious, and he’ll love her if she hates him. She’s not going anywhere either way.

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [3]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Word count: 3,063

↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | You Are Here! | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

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

WEDNESDAY - 3

The sun is shining brightly through your window when the morning stirs you awake. The curtains of your room are wide open, and just outside you can hear the songs of two birds in the near distance. Groaning, you wonder how you managed to get in bed, swearing that you had just been watching Infinity War with Mark.

You slip out from under your covers, grabbing and putting on your glasses that were set neatly on your desk. You realize once you stand that you're also fully clad in soft pyjamas. Confused, you wander out of your room and out to the living area. 

“Rhi?” your meek call into the kitchen and living room was met with silence. Holding your sides in a sort of self-hug, you wandered into the kitchen and looked at the stove time. It was around 10:30, and your class alarms never went off, so today must be a day where Rhiannon had class and you didn't.

Your thoughts put together what happened after you fell asleep in the moments after your fatigue was washed away in the shower, and you spend the rest of your morning poking at a bowl of cereal. Your days off usually meant staying in your pyjamas all day, playing Overwatch on the PlayStation you brought to your dorm from home or trying to take photos of dust particles if it was sunny enough. 

You didn't know whether to feel alone or content in the first moments of your day. Time passed as it always did, taunting you with anxiety and making you worry about not getting anything done. It eventually compels you to start cleaning, ticking off little boxes on the chore chart attached to your fridge. You're not sure how long you've been absorbed in sweeping the floors, but eventually, you're brought back from absent daydreams because of a gentle knock on the door. 

“One moment!” you call out, putting the broom back where it belongs and smoothing out your hair. You lick your lips and approach the door, opening it and looking straight into the face of Mark. 

“Hi, (Y/N),” he greets you cheerfully, gingerly holding out a small bouquet of flowers out to you. 

“Hi,” you answer softly, clearly surprised that he's there. “Thank you…”

“Rhiannon gave me a code to sign into the building as a guest,” he explains, “I want to take you out on a date if that's okay.”

Gingerly you take the flowers, a mix of tulips, sunflowers and roses. You smile up at him, a little embarrassed that you're not completely decent in front of him. “I'd like that, but…”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “But?” he repeated.

“I'm, uh… I need to get ready.”

Mark looks you up and down, and his face goes red. He smiles awkwardly at you and nods. “Okay, I can wait.”

“Okay. Make yourself at home and I'll get ready,” Mark follows you inside and watches you put the bouquet in a large glass that you fill with water. “I'll be right back.” 

You stare at yourself in your full-length mirror for a while as soon as you close the door to your room. After taking off your pyjamas, the scar on your body stands out. You're definitely not used to seeing it, and you're feeling a little worried that it will draw more attention to you than you want.

Once you remember that Mark is waiting for you, you choose a pair of blue jeans and a loose pink top. Smoothing out your clothes, you stare at yourself. You haven't been on a date since high school, and after that date, your crush stopped talking to you- he believed too much in only dating the one you were made for, and it broke your heart.

“You can do this,” you told yourself. “He likes you. He's your soulmate. It's fine, you're fine. It's fine, we're all fine. Don't freak out." you took in a deep breath, making your way back out.

Mark was sitting politely on your couch, and once he noticed you were back, he immediately stood, smiling. “You look great,” he said, approaching you.

You felt a twinge in your chest and you felt your cheeks get red. “So do you,” you manage to mumble, watching as his smile grew wider. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, holding out his hand for you to take. 

“Yeah,” you gently took his hand, and after you got your shoes on and grabbed your little drawstring backpack, the two of you stepped out and began your day.

It almost felt like a dream, walking and talking with Mark. The two of you got ice cream together and sat in a small park, feeling the cool dew of morning turn into the sunny warmth of the afternoon. 

“Have you ever been on a date?” Mark asked as the two of you were walking through a crosswalk to Union Station.

“One,” you answer. “Back in High School before I left home. I really liked him, but I knew we weren't going to be soulmates. It was when I wanted to be rid of the soulmate trope once and for all- live life scar-free, y'know?”

Mark frowned at you for a moment but then nodded for you to continue. He leads you into the building and toward the escalator that went down into the station.

“He took me out, bought me dinner and we had a good time. He took me home that night and he touched my shoulder… it was the first time he and I had physical contact. The next day at school we were both scar-free, and he told me that he didn't want to see me in that way anymore.” you half-smiled at Mark, tightening your grip on his hand.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “You won't have to deal with that anymore, I promise.” 

“How about you?" You almost felt afraid to ask him, a twinge in your chest affirming that you may not even want to know his answer.

He smiled. "Not really, no, unless you count Johnny taking me out for dinner when he debuted with 127." 

You raised your eyebrows. "Really? You're so good looking, though." Wind rushed through your hair as you both went down the stairs into the main station, the subway car you were to board whizzing through into the station. 

Mark blushed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I didn't have the time. I was too busy thinking about my dream and my career. But now that I do have some time, I really am happy I found you."  

You both climbed onto the subway car, Mark holding you close as the busy subway filled up. He was smiling cheerfully at you, red still dusting his cheeks. You returned the look, wondering how you could have gotten so lucky.

The two of you saw Avengers together at the Yorkdale mall. Of course, you cried, trying your best and failing to keep your sniffling silent. Mark took your hand in the dark of the theatre and squeezed it gently, making your heart flutter and your lips quiver. 

You both decided to shop around after the film finished, sharing an enormous poutine in the food court once Mark's stomach began to audibly rumble. Mark was wolfing down the food at a breakneck pace, making you giggle at him once he managed to get gravy on his cheek.

"Slow down," you laughed, reaching over the table to wipe his cheek with a napkin. "Next thing you know you'll get it on your shirt."

Mark paused for a moment, a little surprised at the touch. "Not like I have a photoshoot later," he joked. "It's been years since I've had poutine." 

You licked your lips. "Maybe, um, I would like to take pictures later?"

Mark's eyes widened. "Really?" 

You nodded and smiled sheepishly, taking a bite of your fries before you missed your chance. "Just to make sure it's all real."

"(Y/N)," your name left Mark's lips, sounding like sweet sugar and honey. It sent shivers down your spine. "I can promise it's all real, but if you want, we can take some."

"Wow," you sighed, examining Mark's face. He was already so picturesque, no makeup, no hairspray or crazy visual design. He finished off the fries, another blob of gravy somehow made it onto his cheek, which made your eyes travel to stop at his lips. You licked your own, not even catching yourself thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. 

Mark stared back at you, resting his head on the palm of his hand. "How long have you been thinking about taking pictures?"

You perked up and managed to make eye contact with him. "In general or just of you?" You asked shyly, tapping the corner of your lips with your finger. "You have more gravy on you."

Mark laughed bashfully and wiped his face with a napkin. "Uh, both, I suppose."

"I've loved taking pictures since I was a kid. I didn't know I wanted to do it as a living until I started to take pictures of nature with my phone camera. After that day in the forest with my grandparents, I knew I had to drop out of my biology courses and go into photography instead."

Mark nodded as he listened. "That's really admirable," he said, making you blush again. He stood, gathering up the tray and tilting his head as a gesture to join him.

You cleared your throat and continued with a shy smile, "I, um, just really want to take pictures of things I like, and… uh, you have always been one of them." 

Mark put away the tray and took your hand, "there's no need to be embarrassed about it," he laughed quietly, "I like you too." 

You felt at home with Mark, warm and happy. Your heart fluttered more and more when he looked at you, smiled, or talked with you. At random times you'd want to take a picture, he'd stop and pose for you. Whether it was silly, romantic or a chic fashion-style photo in the subway station on your way home that evening, he did it for you.

The camera you kept with you in your little drawstring bag was now full of photos, ready to be manipulated (not that you really had much to touch up anyway) and saved to your computer. Perhaps you would frame your favourite one. 

The night rolled over you both like it had when you first spent the day together, which was only a few days ago, but it felt like a lifetime. The roads of Toronto were quieting down and the street lights were beginning to bathe the walkways in a soft amber glow. When you returned to your building, you didn't want to go in. 

"We should both rest," Mark insisted when you clung to him in a hug. "Big day tomorrow." He still wrapped his arms around you and pressed his cheek against your head gently. 

"What?" You looked up at Mark, confused. He leant back enough so he could look at you, a smile dancing on his lips.

"The guys want to take that one photo tomorrow. In the park with all the cherry blossom trees. I knew it was the place I wanted the night you took me there. You kept staring off in the distance, and once I figured out why, I wouldn't even consider any other place you would suggest if I had asked." 

"Mark-"

"Don't be embarrassed," he assured you quickly. "I really like that about you." 

"Well, I…" you were trying to avoid eye contact with Mark, not quite able to handle the compliments. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow," you say quietly, pouting, "but I still don't want you to go." 

"I promise that after it's done, we will spend the entire day together, okay?" Mark placed a finger under your chin gently. "Sound like a plan?"

You couldn't hold your pout while making direct eye contact, so it melted away into a reluctant smile. "Okay." 

The two of you went inside, walking down the hallway together toward the door to your apartment. When you arrived, you held both of Mark's hands. "Text me when you get back safely, okay?"   

He squeezed your hands gently. "I will. I'd like to do one more thing, though, if it's okay with you." 

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Like what?" 

Your heart began beating wildly in your chest when he smiled at you. Mark was such a wonderful person. On the surface, he was confident and funny, but below that was a shy and quiet nature, that knew what he wanted but didn't quite know how to get there. His hands left yours and instead cupped your cheeks. 

"This," his voice hit your ears so softly that you almost didn't hear it. Once he leant toward you, you caught on. With your heartbeat audible in your ears and your stomach doing acrobatics, your lips met. 

It was chaste, borderline experimental, soft and nervous. When he separated from you, he rested his forehead against yours for a moment. "I thought about doing that all last night," he admitted. 

"Do you really expect me to let you leave now?" Your question came out with a quiet laugh, almost letting yourself get carried away when Mark's hands left your cheeks. 

"I expect you to be reluctant, but I really do need to go," he's smiling sadly at you, "I just had to know what it was like before I left." 

"You owe me," grabbing his hand for one last moment before he turned to leave. 

"I'll pay you in full," he said with a grin. "I promise."

"Be safe." 

"I promise. I'll text you!" With that, he was gone. 

You nearly screamed the moment you heard the large doors to the building click shut. You had just kissed him. Mark Lee kissed you. Taking in a deep, shaking breath, you dug into your backpack and shakily grabbed your keys to unlock the door to your apartment. As you were opening the door, you felt resistance for half a second and heard quick scrambling on the other side for another half a second when you pushed your way inside. 

The first thing your eyes met once you walked inside was none other than your best friend. 

"Sorry," she said bashfully, hands behind her back. "I, uh, wasn't expecting to get caught." 

You rolled your eyes, grinning at her. "Are you apologizing because you were spying on me through the peephole or because you got caught?" You raised an eyebrow playfully at her. 

"Look, we both know which one it is, so I'd rather not make myself look much worse." 

With that you both are laughing, Rhiannon takes your bag for you and hung it up on the small coat rack while you took off your shoes. 

"I've been texting Haechan; or should I say Donghyuck now..." she said as the two of you sat together in the kitchen, Rhiannon applying a face mask to your skin. She was already wearing hers, perfectly attached. "He's been helping me with my Korean grammar, which according to him is quote-unquote atrocious," she says, patting your face gently before taking her seat again and leaning back.

"Well, you've never had a proper teacher," you remark. "It's incredible you can keep studying it with all the dental stuff you have to do. I can't even keep my studies up and I have less of a school workload than you." 

"Sometimes I think you're just lazy," she said teasingly. "Considering you just made me put a face mask on for you." 

"Don't hate, you know I can never get these stupid things on right. Anyway, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come to the boys' shoot tomorrow. You can show off your vocab in person, your spoken is way better than your texting." You looked over at her, watching her frown beneath the moisturizer mask. 

"But I have a lab tomorrow," 

"Well, how about you meet us then? High Park, in the cherry blossom area where you like to people-watch while I take photos." 

Rhiannon hummed. "If you wait for me, yeah. I'll pack an outfit in my bag to change into after." 

You smiled. "Good, I wouldn't want to miss watching you meet Haechan in person." 

"Like I'd ever let you miss that. Unlike you, who went to meet Mark, Johnny and Jaehyun without me."

"Hey," you whine, "you knew I had no idea they were gonna be there."

"Yeah yeah, make up all the excuses you want."

After your masks came off, you washed your face and changed into your pyjamas. Slipping under the covers, you checked your phone. There was a text from Mark, which you probably got while you were doing masks with Rhiannon. 

Mark: I'm back safe

Mark: I really can't stop thinking about it

You: I'm happy you're safe, sorry I couldn't reply, was doing face masks 

You: I can't either

Mark: It's ok

Mark: I'm getting ready for bed, all the guys are pumped for tomorrow, and the concert is getting closer 

You: are you nervous? 

Mark: A little, but I will be less so knowing you're going to be in the front row 

You: I'm thankful I can be so close, I've never been in the front row of a concert before 

Mark: itll be loud, bring earplugs

You: kay, I will be able to hear still right? 

Mark: oh yeah, for sure hahah 

Mark: It gets super loud, I don't want your hearing to get hurt 

You: thank you for worrying about me

Mark: always :) 

Mark: We will meet you around 11:30 in the park along the path where you and I walked

Mark: See you tomorrow, we should probably sleep

You: Okay, I'll see you

You: Good night Mark

Mark: nighty night (Y/N) <3 :)

You: <3

You were barely able to put your phone down to go to sleep. The day was constantly running through your head, especially your first kiss. Your heart fluttered, your stomach flipped, and you felt like you could squirm under the covers of your bed enough to tie yourself up in blankets. 

When you finally managed to drift off, your dreams were entirely of what the future could hold. 

[seijohsfairy]

𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙳

rhi, this is for you ♡ remember when you said mafia seijoh and i said i’d write it?? but then i got super distracted with other fics and never did the thing? weLL I FINALLY FINISHED IT. she’s cut up into two parts bc i didn’t want to make it too long but part 2 should be up soon for @/seijorhi​ & massive, big fat ty to @/xplosiveboy​

.wordc. 3k+ tw mafia!big 4, noncon, sexual harassment, yandere, coercion

horrid pt 2

It was written somewhere in your favorite library, on a vacant page of the grimy literature textbook stuffed between two shelves maybe, you read it just once. Back then you didn’t care much for the radical, unwilling to trust the faith of someone destroying what wasn’t theirs to begin with. Long, curved words littering the white; claiming full of hate that the poison our mind makes is the most powerful decay, that humans are the most horrid of creatures.

Back then you’d closed the book, sliding it back into place and tucking the knowledge far back into your mind, unwilling to use such a straight-set line of thinking on a world which had given you life, gifted you virtue and loudness. So terrifying; but splendid. You had swallowed, light and unwavering in the knowledge that you were still capable of processing, and giving kindness. You had settled above the cold of those words, thinking them sickly and rotten.

But you didn’t forget, the fire of them on the curve of the page. Or rather, you couldn’t.

It isn’t unlike you to falter in your step, feet rushing ahead faster than your mind can catch up and taking those half-hearted fumbles as just what it needs, before granting you another dash of mindless cadance. Not lost but wanting to reach home a bit faster, slicing off the unnecessary travel so you’d be able to cuddle up in a blanket a second sooner. Even without anything waiting for you on the other end. So you correct your balance for long enough to notice the long straight between brick walls, the direction of it catching your eye more than anything of value. The buildings here are taller, stubbier in their set size and darker, like the grime of the city has never been washed off them.

You’re small in between, but that has never stopped you before. You wonder if you could take that road, rush it. An alternative for the boring path you’re supposed to take. The monotony aches. You’re young, invincible, not having existed nearly long enough for something truly horrible to happen. Unbalanced, in a way.

But you’re not foolish either, and wasting precious time is the exact opposite of what you want. You bite your lip, carefully crossing the street to peek into the alley. Littered, wet, vacant. Until the breeze picks up and ruffles your hair, calling out for disaster. Unwilted flowers and those dusted grey to the core aching to meet, to make the balance even.

A show of red, white and black in the form of a man, and one that has your chest craving to be leveled with his. It isn’t that you haven’t been blown away by beauty before, but equality is something else entirely. Those things are weighty in their presence, heavy enough to break your reasoning and to have you rolling forward without will of your own. The heavy-set darkness of his eyes, his hair, his dress shirt. As if he wants to melt into the background, yet everything about him seems to demand attention. The bony points of his hands and fingers are bloodied, chafed and red shows through the split skin where his nose is lowest. But he fuels your wonder with a dignity, leaning against the metal door just as practiced as the cigarette held between his lips.

Never would you be more aware of your foolishness than looking back on that instant. But sadly you only figure that out long after you allow your body to drift towards him. Your kindness hasn’t failed you yet. It does crumble slightly when the weight of his gaze falls on you, staring your way like you’re a broken record disturbing his peace. But even in your clumsy approach you are obviously good and innocent, dragging closer. The pitter-patter of your feet against the wet concrete is shy, it drips from your lips. And beasts hidden in the cracks of society always sniff out that kind of virtue. “Excuse me,” you say. “Do you know where this alley leads?”

It’s a silly thing, more close to an excuse to speak than true curiosity but it has his mind churning. He blows out a white cloud beside your face, picking the destructive thing from between his lips with a tick of his brow. The tilt of his head in the way you had motioned leaves you tense, used breath building in your lungs, your tongue rubbing on the roof of your mouth like it has something to scrub away. “Don’t think you wanna go that way,” he simply says, eyeing you up and down with the languid movements of a lioness not yet bothering to stretch her muscles, “it’s dark and scary down there.” The glint in his hazel-greens should remind you of water pulling far back from the beach. It does remind you of it, but for reasons beyond you it doesn’t quite click.

So you puff out your chest, basking in the tiny bit of confidence you house to nod. “I think I can handle it,” you smile. As you consider your chances of making it to the other end, a feeling of irony comes to press on your shoulder. Sucking at the brave front until you’re all but left a shivering deer on two dainty legs. It feels colder here than it did on the main street.

So you look back only once at the handsome stranger, bowing in gratitude. “T-thank you, I— I’ll be going now.” Polite despite the tremble you feel, you were raised to be good. He only tilts his head in response, choosing silence the moment you wish for anything else, but you too are at a sudden loss. You turn on your heel and start tiptoeing away from the vast security of the street to drown yourself in sudden doubt in your ability. Most times you experience the opposite. You know the feeling of living, breathing with no worry, well and polishing your renewed understanding only later.

But the path his eyes take in chase of your body has a stickiness, and you can’t help but imagine he has already eaten you up in his mind, walking away with sweat on your palms. Two bangs sound against the metal, leaving you skittishly darting forward with your nails pulled into your palms. It’d be easier to pretend to be strong if you had a bit more faith in your own destructive power. Should you be a monster of preposterous size in the body of a cowering young woman, it’d be easy to push away the need to check, to make sure that you are not under threat. But you’re painfully human, so you glance over your shoulder anyway.

The handsome man has already slipped back into the building, but the memory of his expression gives you goosebumps. A reminder that humans are greedy in nature even when you don’t want them to be. You let the tense air out between parted lips, continuing down the wet curve of the buildings until a creak up ahead calls your attention. Against the darkness where another door swings open, two figures come out into the chill of the falling evening. You envy them for a moment, as they are not alone and you are, but then your feet halt to let your thoughts churn. The men, one with pretty, brown hair and the other a strawberry blond color, don’t need to search to find what they are looking for. The sharp eyes are turned your way the moment they exit the bruised building.

And you blink a few times, before taking a step back in the narrow space. They stand at the door with a stony confidence. Running now is definitely proof that you are not as brave as you pretended, but you can’t help it. With a deep breath you turn back, suddenly feeling hurried. No one reason could be good enough to put yourself into the jaw of an animal willingly, definitely not one as feeble as yours. You scurry back around the corner with a speed that would go unnoticed by most, but still you have to stable yourself again when you connect with another body. It catches you, wraps a large hand around your arm and you look up to express your gratitude by habit.

It’s another tall person, dark curly hair and a surprised expression. Something about his touch is debasing, seeming to latch onto every single one of your fibers. If it had only been this, it would leave you starving, your greedy heart categorizing everything under love at first sight— though you are barely old enough to have liked properly. But the contact is too long to sit well, your body straightening from him as best you can. “S-sorry,” you begin, silencing yourself with a gasp. The brunet of earlier, as well as the other two are upon you already, the presence of four men surrounding you so suddenly a frightening thing. “I- I’m sorry,” you mumble again, though it is lost in the intrigued gazes. They crowd around you before you can think of what you should do.

One of them shoots you a grin bright as the sun, leaning over your shoulder to come into view. “Look at you being the gentleman, Mattsun. You saved the cute girl from falling down!” You are still held onto by the curly haired man, who shrugs off the compliment with an indifferent expression. The cheerful one clicks his tongue, before rounding back on you with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle. The weightlessness he carries reminds you of something out of a fairy tale. Bright, obnoxiously cheerful. “What are you doing here, gorgeous? How old are you, you in college?” Voice lithe, sweet on your tongue like honey.

So you try to straighten up, dropping your lip from between your teeth. “Y-yes,” you say, to be interrupted by another voice. This one is more familiar, the first of the few. Tanned skin, handsome at every angle.

“All alone like this?” he breathes, “you must be pretty brave.” With an endless intrigue laced in his eyes, you’re pulled closer to the man with dark, spiky hair by your free hand. You stumble forward with the sudden shift. If you were ever an angel, your wings are useless now. And something tells you these men will make sure that soon they’ll be no more. He only smiles when you have to steady yourself on his chest with gentle fingertips, keeping you close to his warm body. But eager, it plays on his lips like you’re the thing he’s been looking to find for hours, maybe days. He lets out a chuckle at your dumbfounded expression. “I’m Iwaizumi, that’s Hanamaki and Matsukawa.” He waits a moment, smiling wider when you don’t show any recognition at it. “What’s your name?”

You’re so overwhelmed that it’s hard to even sound out the syllables. Your name doesn’t matter, you don’t disillusion yourself to think any of it matters, truly. But the looks remain even when you hesitate, and you find yourself speaking aloud. Though you barely get your name past your lips before you’re turned around by your shoulder, your response setting them alight. You’re left glancing up into a happy grin and pink hair. “You’re dressed up pretty. Nice skirt,” he coos, picking at the edge of it just once before leaning his face a bit closer to yours. “You’re pretty all over, you know that? Really pretty,” he draws out the sound until it sounds almost comical. “Right, Mattsun?”

You believe him when he says it, he looks at you like you’re shining, reflecting light like a diamond. The compliment, not your first but never truer, stews in your veins and boils your blood. There’s a vague hum from behind you, the man who caught you in your fall putting his big hands on your shoulders. Content to be near, if for a moment. With your constantly shifting gaze, you miss the lines on their hands and arms, the overwhelming smell of different colognes mixed with the smell of blood. “Not gonna say ‘thank you’?” He pouts.

“Tha—”

“Be nice, Makki!” The voice drowns out yours. “She’s just flustered. Right?” The unintroduced man smiles down at you again, his pretty face coming so close you can feel hit breaths tickle your cheeks. Kind or not, you jerk back instinctively. He continues, unbothered. “Sweet girls like her aren’t used to this. But we’re not so bad, I promise.” His pretty hand comes up to brush your hair back, cooing when your skin turns up the degrees more. Stupid, silly, your mind screams; it’s like your feet have been cemented to the floor. Like you’ve been here for centuries, and finally someone’s come to worship you.

Though his hand is shoved away from you rather harshly, with a frown. “Oi,” Iwaizumi growls, “let us do it ourselves, Oikawa.” He turns back to you with a certitude, closer and though you try to back away you’re only met with the hard lines of the person behind you. Mattsun still has his hands on your shoulders, rubbing comforting circles into the thin fabric of your blouse. Quiet, but not forgotten. You don’t dare look away from Iwaizumi though, his pretty eyes dark enough to make your heart jump uncomfortably against your ribcage. “He’s right though,” the noiret’s voice sinks low, “we’re not so bad. I think you’d like to see, huh?”

The words feel claustrophobic, your eyes widening. You glance at their faces in confusion, switching between each person quick enough to make you dizzy. “Uhm- I,” you stutter, but a brush up your leg has you gaping, frozen. “I don’t-” The cold fingers trail up the inside of your thigh, too high.

“Of course she does, look how nervous she looks.” Makki is so close now he’s molded to your side, the other men not far behind. “So precious,” he coos. “Here, take my hand for a second.” It is put in your field of vision like a peace offering, the breaths on your neck feeling suffocating. But with his long fingers opened invitingly, it’s almost easy to believe they have good intentions. You give in and drop your smaller hand in his, if only to get rid of the revering stare. Hiro grins wider though, and laces your fingers with his. He giggles, softly. “Like this, isn’t it so easy to just,” he drops your interlaced hands to brush up against his crotch, “put them here.” Every muscle in your body seems to quiver, but spun too tight to move. “You like it, right?” he taunts when you look down at the floor, holding your hand in place stubbornly. “Eheh, I can tell.”

“W-please stop,” you try to pull away, but the grip on your hand only tightens, thumb pressing down hard enough that you jerk back from the pain. “Aw, aw!” It’s painful, like your bone will shatter if he moves wrong, and the harder you pull back the more he clamps down. “That hurts!” you gasp, turning away in Issei’s hold.

“Such a good girl, look at you,” Iwaizumi says, his hands sliding around your waist to secure you a spot against him. You’re struggling now but there’s hands all over. More touch, more overwhelming motions to keep you near. You’re tucked into Mattsun’s chest, each swell of his chest brushing against your shoulder blades. And your cheek is pressed against a face, someone who starts pressing small kisses there. “You’re precious, I could just eat you right up.” Hajime grabs your face to turn it more towards him. On the inside you want to bare your teeth, show your claws and rip yourself out of the fragile shell, but then he presses a kiss to your forehead and all your fight sinks away. You were never the warlike type. You’re small, frightened and worst of all, cowardly. He smiles over your shoulder. “Right?”

“I’m sure she’d like that,” the tallest behind you grins, his deep voice shaking your body in his hold. “Just look at her.” One of his hands slips under the edge of your blouse, sparking like a smoldering ember. Though you start whimpering in their arms, he smiles. “Are you scared, little girl?” he chuckles, hovering his lips over your ear long enough to give you goosebumps. Your breathing is laboured, unable to stop the whimper that comes out.

“Pretty face, pretty hands, pretty legs,” Hanamaki names, his lips glued to the curve of your neck, “I bet you have a pretty tummy too.” He slips his free hand easily under the waistband of your skirt, pulling it away from your skin and you try to push him away to no avail. Though the pressure of his grip on you is anything but playful, he’s grinning like there’s no worry in his mind. “And pretty tits.”

“Guys,” Oikawa breaks the moment to motion his head towards the door then, already holding it open as the stroking continues. “If you would, please.” They’re suddenly pulling away from you, all but Mattsun who turns you in his hold and wraps your arms around his body, picking you up. His large hands under your butt, he chuckles when you gasp at the touch. Your arms are pulled over Issei’s shoulders and grabbed tight, forcing you in place.

You’d been overwhelmed, stunned and frightened, but when Iwa looks at you like you’re a new toy he can’t wait to use, to break; the building feeling shifts into something else. Terror.

“No, no, nononono,” you start pulling back against the brunet, looking around at the four men with big eyes. You try to kick your legs so that he’ll drop you, get fed up, anything. But he carries you into the building without a problem, much stronger than your pitiful attempt. “I have to get home, I can’t come with you,” you squeak, bristling when someone laughs. It’s a mean sound, cold and vicious and it makes your faltering heart drop. There’s an explosion of— some emotion or other, a stutter in your capacity to take in the world. You can only open your eyes wider, hoping that some sense comes through with it.

Excitement and fear always have a similar taste on your tongue, close enough in their thickness to mistake one for the other until it crawls out of your throat with a violent gasp for life. But this is more bitter, a feeling you recognize as panic too late.

“Let go! Let me go!! I don’t want to be here,” you rasp, the feeling slipping out in tears of stress at the corners of your eyes. The door is shut, casting you and them in darkness together.

“Yes, you do.” It’s Oikawa, though you can’t see him. The touch dragging up your back is enough to leave you with shivers. “We’re only going to take a second of your time, promise.” You’re carried deeper into this hall, the cold and draft the least of your worries. Part of you wants to scream, wants to bite and kick until you’re out of the door and as far away from them as you can. But a bigger part of you is more afraid of what they’ll do in retaliation, so you just bite your lip and try to control your tears.

“Hey, we promise,” the strawberry blond echoes, slipping around the tallest to shove his lips to yours. A deep rumble comes from his chest when you tilt your head away from him and against Mattsun’s neck instead. But he’s undeterred, instead pressing a few kisses to your wrist. “We’ll take real good care of you.” You can’t shake the feeling that their promises count for nothing. And as his long, scarred fingers tangle with yours like a mimicry of comfort, you can’t help but wonder. If those words on that page were written with so much conviction because the thing penning them down was the same as these men. Beastly, ungrateful monsters.

//

part 2 coming soon

[adie-dee]

@yourocsbackstory​

Previous: Week 0: Introduction Week 1: Fear

Week 2: Joy

PROMPT - Think about your character’s past. When where they most happy? What was the first time they encountered that joy? Do they still enjoy the same things? Is there I moment they carry in their heart and will always go back to? Find an event, that is defining for their relationship with that emotion, and just write about it!

“Hey you!” someone shouted as I walked through the common area of the hostel. “In the grey check pinafore! Come here!”

I scanned the room to see who she was calling to, then looked down at what I was wearing. She wasn’t calling to me, was she?

“Yes, you!” She beamed as she said it, her words punctuated by the giggling of the girl sitting with her. “Come sit with us!”

This was new. In the week I’d been here no one had spoken to me, not even the girls in my room, but to be fair, I hadn’t really encouraged them to do so either, sneaking in when it was too late for them to be awake, or being in bed when it was too early for them to be back. Don’t get close to people, Mum had taught me. It would only lead to pain.

But what was the point of me running away from home if I was going to continue living by Mum’s rules? And anyway, she only told me not to get close or to trust anyone. That didn’t mean avoid people entirely.

Decision made, I joined the two girls.

“We’re not interrupting plans, are we?” the second girl asked, brushing back her short, bright green hair out of her face. “You looked like you were going somewhere and Jess here can be real pushy when she wants to be.”

“No,” I replied, fidgeting with the end of my braid. The green looked amazing, and I wondered what it would look like if I coloured my hair like that too. Assuming I even could colour my hair. “I was just going to go for a walk.”

“What, at night?”

I nodded.

Jess’s eyes widened. “Alone?” 

“Is that--wrong?” I asked.  I liked my walks, and the freedom that came from being alone in the city. And it was best at night, too; the city lights sparkling above made me far happier than the stars over my parents home ever had. But from the shock on everyone’s faces, and the disbelief in their tone, I got the feeling it wasn’t something most people did.

“It can be dangerous,” the green-haired girl warned. 

“According to my mother,” I replied, “everything is dangerous.”

“Yeah but--”

“Shh Rhi!” Jess admonished. “You don’t need to scare her! I mean, I wish I was brave enough to do that! It’s actually really inspiring. Really.”

It sort of felt like she was picking on me, though I wasn’t quite sure how.

“I like people watching,” I said, feeling the need to explain myself. “And it’s freeing. There’s no expectation or obligation from anyone. You get to live in the moment and just be…”

Rhi picked up the bottle at her feet and had a swig. “That’s deep. I like it.” She took a sip then offered it to me. “You want some… sorry, I just realised we didn’t ask your name!”

“Britany,” I stated, maybe a little too quickly, and I hoped they couldn’t tell I was lying. “What is that?”

“Tequila. Have you not had it before?”

I shook my head. At home it had been common for me to have a small glass of wine with dinner, but my parents had never let me near spirits. I held out my hand to take the bottle.

“Just have a sip,” she told me.  “It’ll probably--”

“It’ll be fine,” Jess interjected with a grin. ‘Go on, try!”

Whatever bad experience she was trying to hide was unlikely to happen to me, so with no hesitation I lifted the bottle to my lips. 

Warm and with a hint of a threat, It tasted like how fire felt, and I immediately drank some more.

“Slow down!” Rhi squealed. “Too much will give you a hangover!”

“What’s a hangover?”

Both girls giggled. “You really don’t know?” Rhi asked, continuing when I shook my head again. “Like a self-inflicted sickness that makes you wish you were dead.”

Jess took the bottle from me. “And tequila causes bad ones,” she stated, grimacing at her sip. 

I eyed the bottle, wondering if I could have some more. “Then why drink it?”

“Because drinks in clubs are expensive, and this shit is cheap.”

That was news to me. “So you’re going to a nightclub?” I asked. I’d tried to go to one recently, but after queueing for an hour, the doorman had refused to let me in.

Rhi nodded. “Yeah, did you want to come? There’s plenty of people in there to watch.”

“Or kiss,” Jess interjected.

“Or more, if you’re into it.” Rhi winked at me, and I felt my insides warm. “Do you have anything to wear that doesn’t scream conservative schoolgirl?”

Now my blush was because of embarrassment. “No, everything is like this. And I’ve tried going shopping but all the cute clothes cost so much!” It had taken all my self control to not buy anything. If I did, I would run out of the money I took from Mum way too quickly.

“No matter, I have something you can wear,” Rhi said, standing up. “And assuming you’re not hungover in the morning, I’ll take you to this great op-shop near here. I’ve gotten loads from there. Loads.”

I jumped to my feet, excited by the prospect, then immediately sat down. “I want to but I can’t,” I whined. “I… lost my identification last week and they won’t let me into a nightclub!”

Jess narrowed her eyes. “You are eighteen, aren’t you?”

“Yes of course!” I insisted, not lying for a change. “My birthday was last week.”

She frowned, eyes still narrow while they searched my face. “Ok, I believe you. And I have a spare ID you can use. The club we’re going to don’t really look at the cards, just just want to see that you’re holding one.”

Rhi clapped her hands together, grinning. “This is great! We’re going to have a great night. And if any skeezy guy tries to make you do anything you don’t want to do, you come to us, ok? We’ll deal with him.”

“No one can make me do anything I don’t want to do,” I told her.

“That’s the spirit!” She took my hands and pulled me to my feet. “Now lets get you glammed up. Come on!”

I followed her to her room, beaming the entire time. Disregarding Mum’s advice was the best thing I’d done yet.