#i had this thing in my head since i put together the small offerings challenge

[a-s-levynn]

"A sacred guardian" A Series of Small Offerings - IV/1 - day33

[soapybutt17]

Too Sweet For Me

Summary: It was the annual Military Ball, the fifth one since you and John have been married in secret. With his new promotion as Captain, meant a whole ball park of responsibilities he was still getting used to—but nothing gets to him more than the mere sight of you, his beautiful darling in the dress he always loves. It was also something to prepare for with the new changes that came to this year’s ball. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Kate Laswell. Word Count: 2,190 Chapter Warnings: None. Author's Note: this was also supposed to be for @glitterypirateduck's O'Captain challenge but my appendix had other plans for me this past few days. Lol.

Inspired by this song (obviously)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open || Join My Taglist

“Darling.” You couldn’t help but smile at your husband’s pained groan.

With a red backless dress, you know you would turn heads with your outfit and even more certain that your husband would be killing a few men if you weren’t too careful about him.

“Behave.” You pulled away from him as soon as you felt his hands hold onto the small of your exposed back. You turned to face him, seeing him so handsome in his ceremonial uniform, an upgrade since his new promotion.

“I don’t think I can see myself behaving with you looking so ravishing.” He muttered approaching you again and pulling you into another kiss, allowing him this one time since you have yet to put your make up on. “Will this be a problem for tonight?” He playfully warned.

“If you keep your hands to yourself it won’t.” You playfully pointed out pecking him on the lips one last time before turning your attention back to your vanity mirror to put on your makeup. “I’m surprised that you actually plan on coming to this year’s event. I’d expect you to just stay home after the last mission.” You pointed out.

Behind the bravado and the handsome uniform your husband had on, was a broken but healing man that just got back from a mission. A few scrapes and bruises you all know too well were hidden perfectly well, but the black eyes was something that would take more than an ice pack and makeup to actually cover.

“Better to be there to see what those muppets have planned.” He grumbled.

You had accidentally let it slip that there was going to be an auction for this year’s event and you had volunteered to be part of the auction. A simple date that you were certain meant absolutely nothing but it was for a great cause and you couldn’t really fault them with.

Your husband was still apprehensive about the fact, especially knowing that no one was made aware of your relationship to each other. Everyone was given the fact that you were both good friends that had been on countless missions together. It was nothing but friendship between the two of you if you were ever spotted in town together even when the both of you knew it was something more.

“It’s just one date, even Kate is joining along.” You tried your best to reassure him but it wasn’t happening whatsoever with the deep frown resting on his lips.

“Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” He muttered under his breath, finally resigning by your decision, which you were thankful for. No need for you to try to convince him with anything.

“You owe me for this. I need some kind of motivation for tonight not to blow someone’s head.” He muttered.

And you spoke too soon.

“How about a day or two in that ritzy cabin you’ve been pestering me about for weeks now.” You offered.

One thing you truly hated was being too out of touch with society if you could avoid it. You have to do it for work, you weren’t so keen on doing it in your personal time if you didn’t have to. But your husband just was a recluse when he wants to be and this was one of those many instance that he will have his way.

“Deal and the ring stays on so they know you’re mine.” He muttered.

You smiled, lifting your hand up for him to see the sparkle of your engagement and wedding ring still nestled on your finger. Even without him saying it, you wouldn’t even dream of removing it.

~

The newly promoted Captain John Price should have been at the top of the world because of his new title, but it was far from the reality of it as he watched his beloved wife continue to mingle amongst both officials and fellow soldiers. It still shook him to the core how someone like you could command yet bring comfort to anyone that was privileged to be in your presence.

But that was just what made him love you so much. How someone like you, a Lieutenant to his own position as a Sergeant would never once use your position to demean him or treat him as anything less than you were. Some may say your call sign as Rookie to be an insult, a way to make you less than what you truly were, but you proved time and time again that it was a reassurance to anyone lower than you that you will stand on equal footing as them if the need arises especially on missions.

“Rookie’s already stealing the spotlight.”

John turned his attention to one unfortunate woman he had the misfortune of meeting in his life that turned his whole world upside down. Kate Laswell was an intelligent woman—far too much for her own good at times but she was the best of the best in her line of work. She was one of the main reasons why he was placed in a mission that ended with him finally climbing the ranks.

“As she should.” John agreed, subtle in his comments as to avoid anyone, especially Laswell from thinking anything was going on between the two of you.

“I still can’t believe she refused the promotion.” She continued taking a swig at the whiskey she was cradling, only bringing a craving for one in John himself.

“I’ve heard. I don’t think she’d be a good fit with the paperworks from the looks of it.” He added.

Of course he knew the very reason why you had refused the promotion on your own end. You were in all accounts a better fit than him to become a Captain, a rank that had been a well-deserved position for everything you’ve done but every single time the topic would be brought up you had threatened retirement or AWOL if anyone pushes. You never truly saw yourself as someone that would be working behind the desk, you couldn’t help and navigate dealing with officials, you admit you were never built for such capabilities.

“I believe she is. You should have seen her chew on Shepherd during the last mission. She’s got guts and a heart that not something you see in the field often.”

He nodded, that was what made you special. He watched you now begin a lengthy conversation with the well-known and very much feared soldier Ghost. How you had been the only one to hold a conversation and not trembled at the sight of the monster of a killing machine.

“Why am I not even surprise with her.” He chuckled turning his attention away from you and turning towards Laswell. “So, are we just gonna spend the entire night talking about Rookie?”

“That’s not much of an issue for you Captain.” Laswell smirked knowingly.

“Will I ever live that down?” He questioned, jokingly.

He was once again reminded of the time in his drugged state where he was delirious enough to propose to you after a mission gone wrong. To many it was just him too drugged from painkillers but for you it was an intentional proposal that you accepted once you were alone.

“You’re never gonna escape the allegations, John. I will never allow it.” Laswell smirked finally excusing herself when the MC has begun.

He made his way to this designated table, his eyes always following you. He watched as you made your way backstage to prepare for the auction later on tonight. It brought the never ending dread in the pit of his stomach as the staff began distributing the auction paddle around, accepting his own without an ounce of hesitation.

It will be a long night that much he has come to realize.

~

“One Thousand!”

You had faced so much trials and tribulation during your career in the military. The vile and often times immoral acts that was placed against you during interrogations and kidnapping, but nothing in your life could have given you more shame than to be standing in front of the stage as numerous bids have been placed upon your name.

Your eyes had been following along to the numerous of individuals that were bidding, some were colleagues your husband had been all too certain had hots for you, others were top officials that you were more than certain were pigs for involving themselves in the date auction knowing they were married, then there were the guests that had been leering at you all night long.

Maybe your husband was right, the auction was a big mistake.

Your eyes scanned the entire room until they met the familiar eyes of your husband. The reassurance had settled on his eyes as much as the annoyance but he was waiting for you to give him the signal.

Somehow with a simple nod it was all he needed to do to raise the paddle and his booming voice had silence everyone.

“Ten thousand.” His voice had everyone turning.

It was one of the highest bids for the night and it just had to be from the man himself. The rest of the night had been a blur, after the auction and countless of formalities and empty conversations, you had found yourself in the arms of your husband as he helped you back onto the car.

“You alright?” He inquired cupping your cheeks the moment he had helped you with your seatbelt.

“Will get better.” You assured him grounding yourself back to reality as he patted your cheeks and driving the two of you back to your shared apartment.

The car ride was silent, the event with the auction still playing in your head. It could go so wrong in many ways if your husband did not intervene. It was supposed to be for a good cause, but it did not feel like it when you stood in front of the stage. You felt more like meat being prepared to be slaughtered.

Eventually you two had arrived back. Your husband opened the car for you and led you back to you to your apartment. The silence was consuming you more than you expected it to.

“Want to sober up or not?” Your husband inquired.

You turned to look at him as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Sober up would be great right now.” You sighed following him to the kitchen, hopping onto the barstool by the kitchen island. Toeing off your heels in the process, an unintentional moan escaped your lips from the relief on your feet.

“I haven’t done anything yet and you’re already moaning, My Love?” He teased placing a mug of coffee in front of you, from the smell alone you were all too certain was too bitter for your taste.

“Play your cards right and maybe I’ll be the one to make you moan all night.” You quipped right back, cupping the mug and relief of the warmth washing away the events of the night.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He smirked turning towards your mini bar and pour himself a hefty pour of whiskey.

“Surprised you didn’t threatened anyone at the party.” You pointed out.

“I could do lots of things, but I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle for either of us.”

You nodded, watching him unbutton his uniform and sit beside you. Your head immediately finding their way onto his shoulder.

“I’ll pay you back what you paid for the auction.” You promised him.

“You would do no such thing.” He ordered. “You’re worth every pretty penny I’ve paid for tonight.”

You blushed at his words. Even in the years of being with the man, he still has his way of turning you into the girl that had always had a crush on the handsome gruff all only had eyes for you.

Your eyes turned towards your hand, the sparkle of your rings was always present and never once did you remove them even at the party. You wanted to keep your relationship private but never a secret and there are days that you wished to let the world know. But now with his new promotion and you having to lead yet another mission with the help of him now, you doubt it would be a good thing to do.

“You’re too sweet to me sometimes, even after how shitty the night turned out.”

“Nothing shitty about tonight. I get to see you all dressed up and all eyes on you knowing you’re gonna come home to me tonight and do whatever their empty little heads could formulate.”

You rolled your eyes cupping his cheeks and move him slightly too pull him into a kiss that you had desperately wanted to give him all night long. The taste of whiskey brought a sudden thrill through your core.

“Plan on showing it to me, Captain?” You purred and the way his eyes blew out, it was all notification you needed to know as you were unceremoniously lifted into his arms.

Whoever thought your husband had a Captain Kink?

[cryptidghostgirl]

Can I request a part 3 to "unrequited"?

A/N I honestly was not planning another part to this story. I'm just gonna... leave this here. (Pls don't hate me guys. This is so genuinely the only path I could think of for this story that I liked.)

Unrequited pt. 3 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Um. Alastor is dark/yandere in this part. Uh. Unhealthy relationship. Yeah.

Word Count: 2,094

Previous Parts:

Unrequited (Alastor x Reader)

Unrequited Pt. 2

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor had cornered her in the hall. The years, the games, the challenges, none of it was fun anymore. It all came to an end tonight. There was no other option, not when she could die tomorrow. The angels were coming, and they were coming for the hotel.

"I don't want you here tomorrow."

"What!?" Y/n exclaimed in utter shock.

She hadn't known what to expect when Alastor had stopped her as she made her way downstairs to the bar. Everyone was supposed to be having a drink together, celebrating their afterlives that there was a chance they might loose. She didn't know what to expect but, she certainly hadn't expected this.

Alastor had been acting weird lately. He was always weird but ever since the day with Husk in the hallway, he'd been weird even by those standards. He was always finding something for Y/n to do that put her near him, always watching. It was irritating. They had been fighting a lot and Alastor still had yet to apologize to Husk.

"I don't want you at the hotel tomorrow. You are not coming near this fight."

"What the fuck, Alastor?" Y/n nearly stamped her foot on the floor, she crossed her arms and glared at the demon, "I... these are my friends. This is my home. I will do what I can to protect it."

"No, you wont. You wont be here." he paused, "I will use our little deal to make sure of that, if need be."

Y/n scoffed. Her anger was a fiery, radiant thing. Alastor found himself thinking she had always reminded him quite a bit of a lioness when she got like this. The thought had been an accident, he couldn't afford to be distracted. Not when these were the stakes. Alastor pushed it away.

"You fucking... literally why? Like, what? I... sorry, just taking me a bit to process this: the demon who tricked me into selling my soul to them is now going to use that contract to take me, a valuable asset, out of a war which we cannot afford to loose?"

"Yes." Alastor nodded.

"Because?" Y/n prompted in irritation after a moment.

Alastor sighed.

"Y/n, think about what could happen if you are here."

"The same thing that could happen to any one here!" Y/n threw her arms up in exasperation, gesticulating her frustration as she spoke, "The same thing you're forcing on Husk and Nifty, have you had this chat with either of them?"

Alastor didn't respond. It was all the answer she needed.

"Yeah, I didn't fucking think so!" she scoffed, "So it's okay for everyone to risk their lives -- it's okay for you to risk your life even, but not me? Its okay for you to force my friends to risk their lives, but you're going to force me to stay out of it? Listen to yourself, you sound ridiculous."

"We don't need your help. You're slow, you will only hold us back."

The comment he had hope would dampen Y/n's spirit, bend her will into submission, only added to her fire.

"I'm... that's bullshit and we both know it. I might be small, but so is Nifty. Everyone has skills they can offer. I know how to fight, how to survive, and we will have angelic weapons for Christ's sake. Like, I really don't understand what the issue your having is here."

"Y/n, just... no." Alastor shook his head, a hand to his temples, "No. You will not be here tomorrow. I forbid it. I'm sending you to stay with Rosie."

"What am I, your kid?" Y/n sneered.

Alastor looked over at her, his hand falling from his forehead.

"Just please, Y/n." he took a step forward, pulling her hands into his. Alastor took a deep breath. "For me."

Y/n's eyes went wide. Alastor could see the conflict, the swirling emotions. Anger turned to grief, mixed with gratitude, and became anger again. A never ending cycle.

His heart pounded against his chest, it fought him valiantly for release. It had been so long. So long since she'd looked at him with anything other than disgust, so long since she had let him touch her like this.

Y/n settled on confusion as her dominant emotion and pulled her hands from his grasp. Alastor mourned the contact, his hands still held up in the air where hers had met them as Y/n took a step away.

"Why."

It wasn't a question. Y/n commanded information and at the end of the day, he may own her soul but she owned his heart. Alastor felt like in some way, she always had. He couldn't bear the thought of loosing her but, he didn't know if he could handle the rejection either. There was no way, no chance, she would believe him if he told her too much of the truth but, lying wouldn't work either. It would have to be a careful balance, a calculated withholding of information. Too much was riding on tomorrow, on tonight, on this very moment.

"Because I don't want you to die."

Y/n's brow furrowed even further, their eyes growing wider still as she stumbled another step back. Her back was nearly against the wall now, there wasn't anywhere else she could go.

Her eyes flitted around the space fervently. Her lips formed words that never left her mouth. Alastor watched, stress eating him alive. At last, Y/n did something. She brought her hands to her head and sunk to the floor, her knees pulled into her chest.

"What are you doing to me." she muttered softly, just barely loud enough for him to hear.

For what felt like the thousandth time, Alastor felt a little piece of his heart fracture off. He didn't know how much more he could take of this before there was nothing left to break, nothing left to loose. She looked up at him, her hands still holding either side of her head and her eyes wet with tears.

"Why do you care?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. There was an insistence in her voice, a pleading. He stood in indecision for a moment, frozen by want, by need, by fear. His body took over as he took a step towards Y/n. Alastor kneeled down in front of her.

With great care, with a familiarity and gentleness Y/n hadn't felt from him in years, Alastor untangled her fingers from her hair. He held her hands in his once again and this time, he wasn't going to let go.

"Because I care about you."

Shock at his own bravery emanated from his chest. Alastor held his breath.

"You..." Y/n's eyes hardened, "I wish you'd stop messing with my head like this. Its not funny."

"Y/n, I'm not messing. I am not playing a game, I'm not..." Alastor sighed, letting go of one of Y/n's hands and running his hand through his hair as he looked to the side.

Taking a deep breath, he turned back to face her, grabbing her free hand once again.

"I don't know what I can do to prove it to you, that I'm not. But I will keep you safe. No matter what, you will not be here tomorrow."

"Please, Alastor."

His heart stopped. He couldn't recall the last time she'd asked him for anything that wasn't to leave her, Husk, and Nifty, alone. He couldn't recall the last time she'd seemed to fragile in his arms.

"Please, they're... they're my family. I can't..." a single tear rolled down Y/n's cheek, "I can't just leave them."

"I..."

There was a moment, a split second where he almost agreed. Alastor's eyes narrowed. He dropped Y/n's hands and got back to his feet. She adjusted her position in response, nearly kneeling before him.

"Please, Alastor. Let me help them. Let me do what I can to protect my family. Please. I'll do anything you want... I'll..."

It almost worked. Alastor felt his purpose waver again. Then the fear came back. He had already lost so much. His mother, his humanity, his own soul and free will. Alastor refused to add Y/n to the list of things that were so far out of his reach. He just couldn't. He didn't care if she hated him for the rest of eternity, as long as it meant she was safe at his side.

"No." he shook his head, his heart hardening, "You forget, you already have to do whatever I want. You forget, I own you."

Y/n's scream of anger as the shadows took her was muffled as she was sucked into their portal. Alastor stood, watching the spot she had been in for a few moments and then, he doubled over in pain. It shot through him in spikes, in daggers. It was the first time he had told her that. Not once before had Alastor ever said those three words to Y/n, not even when they had first made their deal. I own you.

The guilt, the regret, all of it underpinned by the overwhelming love. It had been trapped for so long, so sheltered and pushed back in the recesses of his mind that it had twisted. The love had become obsessive, dangerous, hungry.

With a breath, Alastor stood straight once again. Pushing his composure back to the surface, he smoothed his hair and went down to the bar to inform everyone of his decision. He may have forced Y/n to do something she didn't want to, fracturing things further than he'd believed possible, but he wasn't going to blame her for it. Alastor was used to being the villain and hopefully, in this case, he wouldn't have to be. Hopefully, they would understand.

Y/n gasped for breath as she was let out of the shadow portal. Panting on all fours, slowly she brought herself back together. Y/n had met Rosie before, once or twice. She knew she was a kind soul at heart, a reasonable person, and she knew that Rosie's cannibals were the main force of their army tomorrow. All she had to do was convince the overlord to let her join them, and it would be okay.

Taking a deep breath to restore her confidence, Y/n looked up. Her heart dropped.

"No."

She got to her feet, looking carefully around the decrepit old radio tower.

"No. Nonono."

Her breaths becoming panicked, she ran to the door. It was locked. Taking a step back, she kicked it harshly. The firm wood didn't budge.

Driven by adrenaline alone, Y/n ran to the windows and began to hit them with all her might. None of them so much as trembled.

"No!"

She looked wildly around the space and, spotting Alastor's chair, picked it up. Y/n hurled it at the window. There was a crash and for a split second, there was hope. That was until she realized it was the chair that had broken, not the window.

"No! No!"

Turning back to the door, she hurled her body repeatedly against it. Each time, she got the biggest running start she could. Each time, there was no change at all, nothing happened. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes, she was long past panicked now.

"NO!"

After about twenty minutes, Y/n was out of breath and exhausted. Her whole body hurt and her face was sticky with tears. She sat at the door, her back pressed against it and her knees pulled into her chest. Burying her face in her legs, she sobbed.

Everyone was at the hotel, except for her. Everyone was preparing to fight for and protect what they loved, except for her. What would they think? What would they say? Much more importantly, would they make it out?

A sudden fear gripped her, a fist around her heart. Would she ever see any of them again? Y/n's sobs redoubled.

"Fucking..."

She sniffed, her panic and grief quickly fixing itself back in the shape of the familiar anger. She could see him in her minds eye, that moment his eyes had softened, that moment she thought that maybe he had been telling the truth all along, that they really had been friends, that he really did care.

"I hate you Alastor!" she screamed to herself, alone in the dark, "I hate you and I will continue to hate you until the day I fucking die again!"

----

A/N I love an irredeemable villain and doomed, misshapen love. I'm sorry to anyone who wanted this to end up happy.

[meazalykov]

Good Game, Sal

Salma Paralluelo x Barca!Reader

summary: are they enemies, or lovers?

Salma Paralluelo and I, both rising stars of Barcelona's Femeni team, shared more than just a common jersey; we shared a rivalry that burned hotter than the Catalan sun on a July afternoon.

Salma, with her quick footwork and innate goal-scoring abilities, was a product of La Masia, Barcelona's renowned youth academy. Her journey to the top seemed paved with gold, crowned by her recent triumph in the World Cup with the Spanish national team. Me, on the other hand, hailed from a humbled path, I considered my talent raw and untamed, molded through sheer determination and grit.

Growing up in the United States, I’ve played through many unknown summer leagues, clubs mainly filled with boys, school teams, and futsal in the winter months before I put the pen on paper with Washington Spirit at the age of 15. 

After four great years with building my talent, creating new friendships, and enjoying my life in the United States Capital, my contract was expiring. 

Washington Spirit offered me a renewal, but Barcelona contacted my agent with a proposal that sent my jaw dropping to the floor. The Catalan Club was my dream club while growing up. I’ve admired Alexia Putellas, Ronaldinho, Messi, and Xavi for years. So I followed my heart and denied another four years in Washington DC, so I can accomplish my dream. 

However, I had to put in hard work when I arrived in Barcelona. This challenge was needed, since the challenge to score on the pitch fuels my passion. However, I didn’t expect a rivalry to happen WITHIN the club rather than the opponents I’ve played against.

First, it was a constant competition for playing time. Overtime, I’ve thought that I harbored a deep-seated resentment towards Salma, envying her success, her effortless grace on the pitch. 

Against Madrid CFF, my debut game in September, I scored a brace that drove the club to win 4-0. Afterwards, I’ve held a record for scoring at least once in a game I’ve had minutes in. 

However, Salma seemed to have the upper hand when it came to having a start. I had to swallow my pride every time I had to be her 67th minute substitute. She always hugged me when she would come off, but my body would tense up everytime. Nobody noticed the small resentment for her, except for Salma herself. She started to piece small things together. 

“You did great today Niña, I'm impressed by your dribbling and speed in training.” Alexia, or my captain Ale, patted me on the back as we headed into the locker rooms after training. A few days ago, we won the Champions League semi-final against Chelsea. Thanks to a goal from Aitana, Fridolina, and I. 

Alexia was a huge advocate for me which made my heart melt. I’ve admired her as a fan but now I am her teammate, so I express my gratitude to her whenever its possible. 

“Thank you. I learn from the best people surrounding me.” I smirked and Alexia breathed out a chuckle. Something the girls noticed when I came to the club is how much I’ll compliment or support people on their skills. Aitana said that I've been a light in the dressing room when it comes to boosting morale. This is a reason why people don’t notice a small resentment I held for a-certain-someone on the team. 

“Well, Don’t get your hopes up when I say this— but Jona might consider you as a starter for the final— Don’t take that as a guarantee, but your speed will be needed against Lyon's defense” Alexia’s Spanish accent poked through as she held onto my shoulder. The Spanish are very affectionate. 

“I won’t get my hopes up— I do take that as a compliment though.” I said. 

“Good. We’ve been looking between you and Salma as the third forward in the finale. Since Frido and Caro will have the left and right wing.” Alexia spoke. I felt my stomach turn at her name. Aware that I will have to work harder in training to start in the final, I know Salma will do the same thing. 

A week later, my “animosity” towards Salma only intensified when I discovered that Salma will start in the final over me as a striker. Back at my apartment, I’ve cried myself to sleep. I’ve worked hard in training. My tears represented the fear that nobody is seeing the skills and potential I have. 

“Hey Y/n” As I walked out the locker room after training one morning, I turned around and saw Salma approaching me. My eyes widened and I turned to walk away in a hurry. 

“Hi.” I said quickly as Salma continued to walk beside me. What did she want? 

“We should go watch The Challengers movie with Esmee on our day off Sunday. I know you both used to play tennis and such, it looks like a great movie.” Salma hesitantly spoke. My eyebrows knitted together at what she said. I did play tennis for a few years in middle school back in America, but as a hobby not a sport. Esmee told me that she could’ve gone professional at tennis in the Netherlands but chose football instead. The Dutch girl is the only person that knew about my old tennis hobby, so she had to have told Salma about it. 

“Um–” I say as we both pushed the glass doors outside into the parking lot. As much as I wanted to say no, express to Salma how much I've resented her, and drive home.. I couldn’t. I felt my heart ache as I looked at the girl who had a shy smile. Wait– huh? Why am I doing that?

“I–I can go with you guys–Just have Esmee text me the details when you guys decide the time.” I said before walking away to my black SUV, my emotions not handling what Salma might’ve said or reacted to my acceptance. 

The last few days before Sunday came along. I’ve talked to my best friend, Isla, about everything. She doesn’t live in Spain, since she plays football for Gotham FC, but she had a clear understanding about the community.

After my rant which lasted an hour, Isla said something which made my heart stop for a quick second. 

“Are you sure that you hate Salma?” Isla asked over the facetime call. 

“Well-No! I don’t hate anybody, I just hate how big of an advantage she has over me.” 

“Oh– because it sounds like you’re in love with her–” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Well the way you’ve talked about Salma reminds me of how I started off with Esther here at Gotham. However it was the other way around. She was in love with me but refused to accept it– so she found reasons to try and hate me instead before she was forced to confront the truth.” 

That part of the conversation replayed in my mind for the last few days. Throughout training, throughout the game against Granada that won us the league, it replayed non-stop. It didn’t distract me but I couldn’t look at Salma without questioning if I am in love with her. A subtle shift began to take place within my heart, even if I didn’t want it to happen.

Salma started noticing the small things too. After the Granada game which granted us Liga F champions, she noticed when I wrapped my arm around her and Esmee as we jumped around in the red-colored locker rooms. I’ve noticed that as I started to slowly accept my possible feelings for her, my “resentment” faded away with it. 

“Good game, Sal.” I whispered in her ear as everyone posed for a group picture in our “Liga F Champions” shirts. She looked at me with widened eyes before smiling softly.

I found herself drawn to the challenge Salma posed as the Champions League final was coming up. Salma always craved the intensity of their encounters, the adrenaline rush of chasing victory side by side with her rival, just like I did.

By Sunday, the day where Salma Esmee and I will go to the movie theaters, I've accepted it—I finally realized the truth that had been staring me in the face all along. Due to past heartbreak, I didn’t want to fall in love again but here I am in Spain. As I stood in the mirror, looking at the nice casual outfit I've put on (imagine what outfit you want, reader <3) I knew with absolute certainty that what I’ve felt went beyond rivalry with Salma, beyond competition.

It was love.

In that moment of clarity, my resentment melted away. I knew that I couldn't keep denying her feelings any longer, but a fear started to grow inside of my heart. What if it's too late? 

Salma did notice my resentment towards her. There were times where I’ve blown her off because of that. I couldn’t blame her if she started to hate me for what I've done to her. 

Four hours later, The Challengers movie ended. I’ve sat in-between Esmee (on my left) and Salma (on my right) in the movie theater. The movie was good but I had the urge to look at Salma at times. Once, I looked down at her hand that wasn’t too far from mine. As much as I wanted to reach to hold her soft hands, I couldn’t do it. What if she pulled away? What if things would’ve been awkward between us? I didn’t risk it. 

When we hugged Esmee as she left the theater, it was Salma and I in the parking lot. I could’ve said bye and left too, but Salma wanted to say something to me. Esmee and her gave each other an unknowing glance, so I believe Esmee might know what Salma is feeling. 

“Y/n, Why do you hate me?” Salma frowned. My heart broke as I bit my lip in nervousness.

“I don’t.” I said I looked at her with a sad smile. 

“Yes you do. Every time I wanted to talk to you at practice, you always ran away to talk to someone else. I’ve noticed that you’re the only person that never congratulated me separately after a goal. I’ve seen the way you’ve brightened up people’s days with your compliments, love, and hugs. Why can I not have that Y/n? Did I do something to you for you to hate me? Just tell me because I don’t want to start off next season knowing that you might hate me for something I might’ve done.” Salma took my left hand and held it with both of her soft, moisturized hands as she looked me in the eyes.

A tear fell out of my left eye as I felt guilty. I’ve fucked up. I’ve hurt Salma and she doesn’t know why— I need to tell her how I feel. 

“Salma, I don’t hate you at all. I am so sorry for what I've done to you. All you did—really—was be great on the pitch. When I came to Spain, I noticed how loved you were by everyone. You had the minutes, skills, awards, and recognition that I could dream of having. However— I’ve admired you more than everyone else at the same time. I know that's hard to accept due to what I've done to you, but I felt like you were too good for me. I look at you more than everyone else. I wanted to hug you and congratulate your success with you but the vulnerability scared me. I’ve been hurt before so in order to protect my feelings, I’ve covered it up with resentment— Salma, I am in love with you.” By the time I told her that I love her, tears poured down my cheeks and Salma held me in a hug, tightly, as she cried too. 

“Y/n, I am in love with you too. That's why it hurt me when I believed that you might’ve hated me.” Salma said through her tears.

“I am so sorry–seriously. I don't hate you. I love you. I will never hurt you like that again, I swear.”  I said. 

After that night, we started over and became lovers. Our undeniable bond blossomed between us. The team adored our relationship and were happy for us. I did keep my promise, I never hurt her again. I’ve found love in giving my love to her without the fear of getting hurt. After the debut game in the 24/25 season, we walked off the pitch hand in hand, my heart fluttered as I know this is the beginning of our longtime relationship. 

<3

[yanderecrazysie]

so i wanted to ask if maybe we could get a 3rd for "change"

(This one part could be skipped since this is basically what i'd imagined happened not long afterwards) since mc obviously doesn't like oikawa and doesn't really anything to do with him then maybe she could try (emphasis on try) and distance herself to give herself some time to breathe, but then he ends up going to her place every morning/night to either pick her up or drop her off. So their usually stuck together most days if not everyday. Anyways i imagined that's how it must be going for her, but imma get to the main point now.

So i was wondering that while at a cafe or something, like a "date" that oikawa planned for them after practice she ends up meeting another guy while oinkawa was grabbing their drinks and they talked for a bit. One thing led to another and their now friends (with or without oikawa knowing.) They end up having a genuine relationship with each other overtime and mc develops a small crush on him, oikawa finds out and obviously he wouldn't like that. The rest is up to you, i don't think he'd kidnap her but would probably still do something pretty drastic.

Can you make something like this happen please °^°

I can make that happen and I will :3

Title: Change (Part 3)

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, swearing, violence

Summary: After returning to the way you’d always been, Oikawa’s become nothing short of a nightmare.

Part 1:  here

change

/verb/

make (someone or something) different; alter or modify:

Oikawa never thought he’d have to compete with anyone, much less the guy he was seeing. He was a two out of ten, whereas Oikawa was a ten through and through. 

Messy brown hair, thick glasses, a face riddled with acne… The guy gave a toothy smile, revealing braces. And, worse, you gave him a smile back.

Oikawa hadn’t seen you smile in two or three months now. Believe him, he’d tried. His jokes left you blank-faced, his cuddling left you tearful (maybe physical touch wasn’t your love language) and his gentle affections made you shrink away or flinch.

For a minute, Oikawa stood there dumbfounded, holding a coffee in each hand, silently admiring your smile, even if it wasn’t for him. The next minute, he was at your side, standing between you and the boy that dared to talk to you.

“Sweetheart,” Oikawa put every ounce of affection he had into the word and sent a threatening look towards the nerdy-looking male, “Who is this?”

“His name is Hikaru,” you said. You stood up and gave your “boyfriend” a challenging look, “We were just talking.”

Oikawa shoved down the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head and offered the stranger a friendly smile, “I see you’ve met my girlfriend.”

“We aren’t dating,” you snapped. You were talking more now than you had talked in months, and this was what you were saying? How disappointing… No, insulting.

“My princess likes to joke,” Oikawa said, letting out a carefree chuckle, “Now…” He turned his face so only the two-out-of-ten could see. His smile morphed into a sneer and his eyes narrowed, dark with anger.

“Goodbye.”

Hikaru held Oikawa’s stare for a few seconds before crumbling. “I’ll see you later, (Y/n).”

“See you later,” you said softly, disappointment lacing your tone.

Oikawa frowned deeply at that disappointment. You never sounded disappointed when he left. You were always so relieved…

He pushed your coffee closer to you as he took a seat at your shared table, “It’s just how you like it.”

“How do you know how I like my coffee?” you asked, looking up at him with suspicion.

Oikawa ignored your question, “I don’t like when you talk to other boys.”

“And I don’t give a fuck what you think,” you snapped. 

It’s her time of month, Oikawa decided. Usually you were much meeker. Now, even your glasses flashed with anger. He reached out to play with your messy hair and you swatted his hand away. So feisty. This was a new side of you and hell if he wasn’t enjoying it.

His eyes gleamed with excitement. High off the adrenaline of scaring away a potential rival, he reached out and grabbed your hand. When you pulled away, he tightened his grip.

He laced his fingers with yours, smiling softly when he compared how much smaller your hands were than his. You were his. Not Hikaru’s. In time, you would come to understand that.

—---------------------------------

Your mother had fallen for Oikawa’s charms, always saying things like “you don’t have to be embarrassed that you’re dating” whenever you denied him being your boyfriend. 

So, when Saturday rolled around, and he appeared at your door, knocking on it like he always did, he wasn’t surprised by your mother opening it with a smile.

“Did she forget something?” your mother asked.

Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I thought she was out with you,” your mother said, equally confused.

Oikawa’s heart sank. If you were out of the house, either you left alone to avoid him or the worst case scenario was unfolding. The possibility that you were out with… 

No. There was no way. He had scared that little nerd away, intimidated the shit out of him.

Despite his thoughts, he had already broken into a run. You could be anywhere, sure, but Oikawa knew where you would be. With your new “attitude”, you’d be exactly where he looked first.

He burst into the cafe so violently that people stared. His eyes zeroed in on the couple at a table near the back. Your pretty, bespectacled face looked up at him with a knowing smile. Oikawa doesn’t need to be a genius to guess who the messy-haired boy sitting across from you was.

He walked back out the door, seething. He needed to get rid of this pest and teach you a little lesson about hanging out with other men. 

—--------------------

“Oikawa, STOP!” you screamed.

Oikawa had gone temporarily deaf, his knuckles bruised and reddened with blood. He continued to slam his fists into Hikaru’s face. 

Hikaru was unconscious at this point, which was probably a blessing. That way, he couldn’t feel his nose breaking with a loud SNAP.

You threw yourself on Oikawa, trying to wrestle him away from the poor boy, but he shrugged you off like you were a pesky mosquito. Tears ran down your cheeks as you begged him to stop caving in your friend’s face.

“Tell me you made a mistake or I’ll kill him,” Oikawa stared down at you with a terrifyingly blank expression, cheeks speckled with blood and forehead soaked in sweat.

You stared back, speechless, and he raised his voice, “Tell me you made a mistake!”

You opened your mouth but nothing came out.

“DO IT FUCKING NOW!”

“I’m sorry, I made a mistake, please stop hurting him!” you wailed.

Oikawa took a step towards you, “Tell me you’ll never talk to another boy again.”

“I’ll never do it again, I swear!”

“Do what?”

“Talk to another boy! Just please don’t kill him!”

Oikawa looked disdainfully at the boy and his bloodied, broken face.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement!” he said with a bright smile, eyes betraying the darkness within him.

[grogusmum]

Hey Lovely Hazel! 🖤

Happy Saturday evening to you and sending lots of love your way!

I'm here to challenge you with Pedro Boy ficlet, let's see now... let's go for Dieter!

He's excited!

Love you! 🖤

Thank you my darling Jett! I hope you are having a good Saturday! 💚

Okay, this is connected to another lil 300-word doodad I wrote soon after The Bubble came out.

I got carried away, I had some of this worked out before, so a 300-500 word thing turned into 1300 oops!

Dieter was excited. He was trying to keep his cool, but it had been weeks since he had seen his sweet pea! But this time, he notices someone else... you.

🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐

“I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Anika looks up expectantly.

“Do you have the number for the therapy animal people?”

In his suite, Dieter looks around at the mess, turning a circle at the center of the room. The paint, the drugs, wine and liquor bottles, his clothes, KitKat wrappers. The only area clean is the space set aside for his fitness mirror, which he looks at sheepishly, then throws a towel over it. 

Pressing his lips together as he makes his decision, he gets to work. He cleans up the most offending messes, then calls housekeeping for new sheets and towels, and a bathroom clean up and vacuuming, before heading back to the lobby to meet with the goat lady.

Dieter had called right away, and asked about Skipper, and if he could book another session with him. The woman he spoke with was very kind. She was the main trainer and creator of the therapy program, she explained it ran out of a larger farm owned by her family. She wished aloud that he could come to the farm, he would get an earlier slot… Dieter told her he would happily pay any fee for expediting his session. She relented, telling him she remembered how he connected with Skipper and she thought he could miss the next group and go to visit Dieter. She would bring him herself.

You drive your jeep since it's just one small animal, Skipper bleats quietly back in his crate. Thinking back to the day at the hotel, Dieter's reaction to the baby goat was not entirely unusual, especially these days. But you felt for him, it seemed like he was releasing a lot. So you weren't surprised to get his call. He had offered an exorbitant amount of money, but you told him you'd gladly accept an additional fee, but that his offer was far too much. You thought, sure it's a business and it has to keep making money but it is for helping people. And he seemed to need it.

Before you know it you are on the grounds, at the gate you show your credentials, get the Covid rapid test, and the safety protocols spiel. You park, pull a large duffle out of the backseat, and put Skipper on a leash. You let him relieve himself, then put a water bowl down so he can have a drink before getting to work.

You look up at the front doors and you see Dieter watching, his body language tells you he is excited but trying to be patient.  

Skipper finishes his water break and you start up the gravel drive toward him.

Dieter has been practicing his spiel to convince you to sell Skipper to him. He doesn't know if he's going to pull the trigger on it, but he wants to be ready. 

You put on your mask and approached the actor. 

"Mr Bravo, nice to see you again."

"Hey, uh, hi," Dieter says looking a little needy. 

You don't usually do this, but since its one on one, you hand him the leash.

Dieter lights up like a Christmas tree, so different from the first time. He starts talking to Skipper as the three of you walk to the side lawn-

"Hey Sweet Pea! I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you." 

He gets ahead of you so you can't quite make out all he says. But it's animated and happy.

Skipper was still determining where he was going but he likes to be with you, so having you on his own was exciting. When he was taken out of the jeep he recognized where he was a little. The smell, the cobblestones. He saw you look toward the big building so he looked to… was that the Fluffy Guy? 

It was. Well, he needs all the help he can get from what Skipper could see. 

The goat looked from you to Dieter as you passed the leash to him. 

Is this wise, mama? he thought. 

"...I've missed you." 

It's okay, guy. I'm here, what are we doing today?

"I really want to adopt you… but I don't know if the therapy woman will let me."

This is nothing new, pal. Everyone wants to adopt me…

Skipper bleats up at Dieter and Dieter is beside himself. He sits down on the grass and starts to pet Skipper's flank. You soon catch up and sit down with him. When you've both settled, Skipper climbs onto Dieter's lap. The man's eyebrows lift and his mouth is a small "o". Then his eyes get wet. As Dieter tries to pull himself together, you put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to go over and sit on the patio. Mr. Bravo, you be you, talk to Skip, and if you want to cry, cry. This is what he is here for."

Dieter gives a grateful nod and hugs Skipper, the goat bleats happily. 

"Would you want to live with me?" Dieter wonders. "No, why would you… fffu- sorry Sweet Pea, I shouldn't curse. I just, it's only-"

Dieter growls in frustration. Skipper bleats and twists his head to see him.

You watch from the patio, Dieter's body language has changed, so you stand. 

“Mr Bravo, is everything alright?”

Dieter lets out a breath, continuing to scratch the kid’s rump.

“I want to buy Swe- ah Skipper. I’ve really never- I don’t know I just- I will pay you anything!”

“Mr Brav-”

“Dieter, please, call me Deiter.”

“Dieter”, you say gently, putting an equally gentle hand on his arm. “I am not going to sell you Skipper, I’m very sorry.” 

His crest-fallen face pulled at your heart. 

“Okay let's do this-” You open your duffle bag and pull out two yoga mats. “Do you do any yoga, Mist- I mean Dieter?”

Dieter shrugs, his pout makes you smirk, a man who is used to getting what he wants if he throws enough money at it, but he does stand and assume a stance with his legs shoulders width apart. Skipper knows the drill, he did the moment you unfurled the mats- he loves goat yoga!

Soon enough Dieter is giggling as Skipper insinuates himself in all of Dieter's poses. But far from getting in Dieter's way or anything, Skipper finds where he needs to balance, and its not unlike getting a massage at the same time, as Skipper’s hooves dig into knots. But Dieter was starting to be taken by you as well, your quiet praise, and with a completely unnecessary request for permission to touch him, some hands-on adjustments to some of his poses. Soft and warm but also assertive, you touched his hips shoulders, and back with assured purpose. 

After some water and downtime, Dieter paints with Skipper in his lap, and finally, you hand him a stiff bristle brush to groom Skipper with.

Yes, fluffy Guy! My favorite!! Now just let me nibble your fluff and we are golden.

Dieter brushes the little goat and you and he chat idly. 

Dieter feels fantastic, but sad, as you leash Skipper and hoist your bag over your shoulder. You decline when Dieter offers to take it and hand him the lease. His boyish grin gives you a little jolt of something, you aren't quite sure about. He’s handsome, and you truly enjoyed your time with him today, but you’ve seen the articles - he is a walking Hollywood disaster story… but-

He reluctantly hands you the lease as you come to the jeep. 

“Thank you,” his voice is low and quiet, “That was- that was amazing.”

“You and Skip did some great work together.”

“You were great too.”

Why is heat rising in your cheeks? Skipper looks up curiously at you and if goats could smirk, he would.

“Thank you.”

“How much would it cost to convince you to come once a week?” 

🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐

thanks for this ask, Jett! It kind of kicked my butt in gear to get this little thing out of my WIPs, for good or bad. lol 💚

[strawheart-pirate]

Royal Flush

Sanji x F!Reader

Words: 1875 CW: SFW i think / naked skin but no sexual actions / kissing / begging / cursing / strong language

It was a quiet night in the middle of the ocean. The Thousand Sunny rocked calmly with the waves. Inside the kitchen, it was the other way round. A lively game of strip poker was happening and it shall reveal more than just skin.

Strip poker on board the Thousand Sunny was always fun and so you slammed the equipment on the table and called for your opponents.

“I dare you to beat me at strip poker! Who will challenge me?” you shouted for the whole ship to hear.

Luffy ignored the call, he has proven to be the least patient man on earth when it comes to this game. Usopp came running to you, like always: “The great captain Usopp will not fail this time!” Nami and Robin came waltzing their way in. Your navigator never turns down a way to earn money and Robin liked a bit of mature fun. Franky would also join you. Chopper stays with Luffy out on deck and Jinbe is the dealer. Brook was banned from the game. He can’t keep it together when two women were sitting beside him in their panties. That and his poker face is unreadable. So, he was on watch. Zoro joins and Sanji was also banned because the first time he played, Chopper had to reanimate him. But because you were sitting on the huge table in the kitchen, he was allowed to watch from afar. He may use snacks to sneak up to you from time to time.

You eyed your opponents from head to toe.

“Usopp, no extra clothing.” You scolded him and Robin used her devil fruit power to get rid of the few dozens of scarfs.

You took a seat between Zoro and Robin and so it began. Jinbe was a skilled dealer and Zoro has the best poker face. Usopp lost the first round and took off his hat. All his lies did not help him, in fact you can say: The bigger the lie, the weaker his cards.

After a few rounds, everyone has lost a few things of clothing. Zoro was stripped off his Yukata and Haramaki, Robin and Nami lost their tops, Nami even her jacket, Usopp was without his hat and dungarees, Franky had only his swimming trunks left, and you had to give up on your scarf and jacket. As Jinbe was shuffling the cards, Sanji came around and offered everyone their favorite drinks.

“Only the freshest fruits were used for your cocktails ladies!” he swooned his way around the table, as he handed out the cocktails. You took yours with a smile and thanked him. You could see only a small stream of blood on his nose, which was a surprise, since Robin and Name were in their bras. He really seemed to get used to this.

The further the night went, the lighter the clothing got. Now it was getting serious since everyone had just one or two garments left. Usopp still had his boxers on but sweat tickled down his forehead. He was one step away from panicking. Franky was the first one, who got dismissed. He took off his swimming trunks with pride and took his defeat with pride.

You lost the next round and were about to take your bra off when a storm swept you off your feet. Somewhere in the back you heard a knife shatter and before you knew it, a door was slammed shut and you were put on your bed by a certain cook. Confusion was written all over your face and you blinked twice before you asked: “What’s the matter Sanji?”

He had his back to you and was breathing heavily. After a long sigh he finally answered: “What’s the matter? You were going to show your body to those perverts and that damn mosshead! I had to stop you!”

“Huh? We were playing strip poker. That’s the deal of the game.” You answered and got up annoyed. “If you don’t mind, I would be happy to join back in. It was about to get fun.”

“No.” he finally turned towards you but blocked the door. His nose was bleeding slow but steady and he hissed as his eyes were greeted with your almost naked body. “No, please.”

“Please my ass. What’s wrong with you Sanji? You seemed to enjoy every game of strip poker we played in your kitchen. You had your fun, too. I don’t get it. Why does it bother you now?” you were deeply annoyed. Every time you played, Sanji was watching in awe as piece by piece fell of one of the female bodies until he was knocked out by a heavy nosebleed and Chopper needed to treat him.

“Because your body is far too glorious for any of them.” Sanji pressed through gritted teeth, there was a fire burning deep in his eyes.

“And what about Nami and Robin then? Why am I here and they are not?”

“You were about to take off your top, not them. I had to stop you!”

“Seriously Sanji, just deal with it. I don’t get it and I want to keep playing since I’m not going to lose my monthly share to Nami. Step aside please.” You said in a calm tone and took off your bra on the way towards the door. “Just gonna leave it here already.”

“WHAA!” a high-pitched sound escaped Sanji’s throat at the sight of your bare chest and he fell to his knees. “Oh dear lord have mercy. I beg you (Y/N), please don’t. Please, what can I do to make you stay? I’ll give you everything. You want my share? You can have it. Want an extra dish every day? You’ll get it. Hell, I’ll even stop messing with the mosshead if you just stay.”

Sanji seemed desperate. He was on his hands and knees, his eyes tearing up and his nose bleeding. You have never seen him that devastated. You needed answers, now. So, you covered up your chest, before he faints.

“Sanji, just spit it out. What’s the matter?” You ask in a soft voice, squatting down next to him, lifting his head with your hand to look him in the eye.

“(Y/N)-chan… I guess it’s time to go all in. Truth is I love you. Ever since you joined us, I took a liking to you but never let it show, because you know how difficult a romance on a ship can be. We’re pirates and if anything happens to you… Anyway, now you know. I’ve said it. I can’t stand the thought of you showing more of your beautiful skin to the mosshead or any other man. I’m sorry. But I won’t stand in your way if that’s what you want.”

He stood up, his shoulders slumped and left without a glance back at you. You let yourself sink towards the ground fully. Your mind was playing everything he said over and over, and your heart was pounding fast in your chest. “ROBIN!”

A pair of blue eyes and her smirking lips appeared on the wall, next to her ear. “Guess you’re not coming back to join us?”

“Robin.. He.. He said…” You touched your trembling lips. “He said he loves me.”

“Yes, indeed. I was eavesdropping, hope you don’t mind.” She confessed.

“No, I don’t. I.. What am I supposed to do now?!” Your mind was still trying to catch up, but a warm feeling spread inside your guts.

“Maybe tell him how you feel? Shall I look around for him?” she offered.

“Yes, please.” You got up and went to your closet. You just went for comfy shorts and a long sleeve, when Robin’s voice chimed through the room.

“Found him. He’s in the bathroom. I’ll make sure you guys won’t be disturbed.”

“Thank you, Robin. You can have my chips. Make sure to win.” You wink at her as her body parts disappear.

You were nervously fondling with the hem of your shirt. Unsure what to do or say you hesitated to go inside. But as you remembered the broken look on Sanji’s face as he left, you gathered some courage.

As you entered the bathroom quietly, you could hear ugly sobs and a running shower. Your heart ached at the sight that greeted you. Sanji was sitting under the running shower crying his heart out. His clothes were fully soaked. He had his knees to his chest and his head buried inside. You charged forward and buried this broken man in a tight hug. Within seconds you were fully soaked too, but you couldn’t care less.

“(Y/N)-chan…” Sanji sobbed as he lifted his gaze. You took his face in your hands and wiped the tears and the water away making sure to be gentle.

“Don’t you cry Sanji, it’s alright.” You said in a soft voice holding his face and stroking his blond hair to the back of his head.

“But you said..” he was nearly tearing up again, when you decided to kiss him. It was soft and wet and oh so intoxicating, but you need to say what was on your mind, so you pulled away before he could kiss you back.

“Sanji, I’ve always liked you. Ever since I joined the crew. But as you said: It’s difficult on a pirate crew and you always declared to everyone, that you love all the ladies. So, I buried my feelings deep down. I never thought you would feel this way.” You looked him deep in the eyes. Both eyes. As you stroked his hair fully back, you took all of his features in. His curly brows were accentuating his deep blue eyes just perfectly and a loving gaze made his way onto your face.

“You mean… you love me?” Sanji asked, taken aback by your statement.

“Yes, yes I love you San-“

You didn’t get to finish your sentence since it was Sanji’s turn to shut you up with his lips. He circled his arms around you and pulled you into his lap and you followed his lead. With your hands still on his cheeks you kissed back. It was a wonderful symphony of soft lips, teasing and tasting each other while the warm water of the shower ran down your faces and soaked your kiss.

After a few minutes Sanji broke the kiss and took your face in his hands too: “Will you be mine (Y/N)-chan?”

“Yours alone, Sanji.” You answered and smiled.

“You make me the happiest man alive. Shall we continue the game of strip poker just without any other opponents?” he smirked.

“SANJI!” you slapped his chest playfully.

“Just kidding. Let’s get out of the shower. We’ve occupied this bathroom long enough.” He said and stood up. He picked you up bridal style and stopped the water.

“Oi! Let me down already!” you squirmed in his hold as he grabbed two large towels.

“No way my dear. It is my duty to take good care of my girl. Prepare to be spoiled.” He said and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You giggled as he took you to your quarters. “I’m not a damsel in distress, Mr. Prince.”

“Yes you are. We need to get you dry and comfortable before you catch a cold and I’ll make sure you will stay in bed.” He said, but you caught his undertone.

“Bet you will.” You answered, circled your arms around his torso in a tight hug and let you get carried away.

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©Strawheart-pirate. Please do not copy / modify / translate / repost my writing, banners or art on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

[stardustluvs]

Somnophilia - Karl X Nolan

MDNI || KINKTOBER

Word Count:

Pairing: Karl Jacobs x Nolan Hansen

Summary: Karl can't get enough of Nolan, even going as far as to ask him to fuck him while he's asleep.

Warnings: NSFW, Consensual sleep sex

Author's Note: Kinktober has genuinely been so much fun. Here's more of my faves! Sorry this is so late btw omfg

Requests are open! || masterlist || kinktober m.list

Since the pair had gotten together, sex had been a very important part of their relationship. As of recently, however, they became less and less available for their usual routine. Their jobs as social media influencers became much more demanding, always needing to record this or that.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

It also didn't really help that neither really had time to take care of their own needs even by themselves.

Actually, Karl isn't sure he can really remember the last time he and Nolan had alone time where they could have sex. The only time they were alone anymore is when they were asleep...

Maybe that's why he had the idea. He was currently sitting in bed, Nolan facing him as he tried to explain this idea that he had come up with...well, heard online somewhere.

"So, a bracelet that tells me you want me to fuck you while you sleep?" Nolan asked, looking down at said bracelet. It was nothing more than a simple bracelet you could get at just about any store, yet it felt like so much more than that.

"Yeah, so, whenever I wear it, if you want to, you can like...fuck me in my sleep," Karl explained once more.

"If you're not comfortable with that though, I get it," He added.

Nolan shook his head, offering a small laugh afterwards.

"No, I just didn't think this was something you would be interested in is all," He shrugged.

"So, you wanna?" Karl asked.

"Yeah, I think it could be fun. Besides, I feel like we barely even see each other as is," Nolan agreed.

That night as they got ready for bed, Karl made it a point to put the bracelet on his wrist, signifying his consent to Nolan.

Karl curled up next to his boyfriend as the two watched whatever had been thrown on tv. Neither were really paying attention to it though.

“You tired?” Nolan asked him, hardly able to take his eyes away from his boyfriend’s wrist.

That goddamn bracelet.

Honestly, just thinking about what would happen tonight was enough to work him up.

“Think so,” Karl yawned a little, moving his hand up to cover his mouth, practically flashing the bracelet in front of Nolan’s eyes.

It felt like such a teasing act.

Maybe it was a teasing act.

Karl seemed to drift off to sleep so easily. Nolan wasn’t usually the type to carry such lustful thoughts, and yet here he was.

Normally he would’ve fallen asleep shortly after Karl had, cuddling him or kissing his head gently. Tonight, though. Tonight was different.

Time passed slowly, Nolan knowing he had the opportunity to fuck Karl whenever he wished, yet so unsure of himself too. The more he thought about, the more his body seemed to react. He knew he wanted it. He knew Karl wanted it too, that’s what that damn bracelet was for.

Nolan decided he couldn’t take it anymore, his dick having gotten incredibly hard at just the thought of fucking Karl right now, interrupting his sleep for sex.

He rolled Karl over to his side, allowing himself to have easier access to his boyfriend’s ass. He grabbed onto one of Karl’s hips and pressed his clothed hard-on against Karl’s ass, grinding against him.

He tried his best to be quiet as to not wake Karl, at least not yet, but the challenge of that was almost as arousing as the situation itself.

The only thing separating the two of them were each of their boxers, the thin fabric not giving as much friction as Nolan would have appreciated.

He shuffled his boxers down just enough to expose his cock, moving his hand to touch himself, stroking it slowly.

He wondered if Karl would be able to sleep through it or if he’d wake up, a confused and moaning mess all because of him.

It was an experiment worth testing.

Nolan pulled Karl’s boxers down, caressing his ass with his hands, unable to stop himself from just touching him.

He saw the butt-plug nearly immediately.

How sweet of him to plan ahead.

Nolan turned to grab the lube from his nightstand, gathering some on his hand before coating his dick in it, wanting this to go as smoothly as possible.

He lined himself up with Karl’s hole, pushing himself in very slowly.

He would’ve been gentle regardless, but this time felt like so much more given the situation.

Karl mumbled a little bit in his sleep, Nolan almost figuring he would wake up already. When he fell back into his sleep, Nolan took that as the okay to start moving.

It was definitely a much different experience compared to having sex normally, but he was enjoying it nonetheless.

Nolan pulled out a little just to push back in, setting a steady pace. He had to bite down on his lip to stifle any of his own noises.

He sped up a little, unable to help himself as the reality of this was just too good to actually accept as true.

“Mmf-fuck,” He sighed under his breath as he continued to fuck his sleeping boyfriend.

Karl stirred a little bit in his sleep, and Nolan should have taken this as a sign to wait for him to show signs of still being asleep, but he couldn’t. He felt so close and stopping now would’ve been nothing but torture.

Karl let out soft whimpers in his sleep, and Nolan loved every second of it.

“Pls…Nol’ more…” Karl whined out, just barely awake.

Nolan did as he was asked and fucked into Karl a bit faster, harder. His fingers dug into Karl’s waist.

Karl’s eyes were practically glued shut from all the pleasure, and nothing but moans escaped his lips along with a mixture of the other’s name.

“God, ‘m gonna cum,” Karl whined.

“Go ahead, cum for me,” Nolan told him.

Not long after, Karl came, releasing inside his boxers as Nolan came inside of him.

They finished out their highs before Nolan pulled out, collapsing against the bed again.

He would’ve said something, but Karl had already fallen back to sleep.

Nolan cleaned the both of them up as best he could, leaving the rest for morning.

Thank god for that damn bracelet.

[pseudoartistpostsstuff]

i can’t explain it but i am OBSESSED with the way you write Yan! Sky! But i’ve been wondering if we could get more Yan! Warriors?? Small little idea from me.. but maybe Warriors tries to upstage Sky’s date? Like, maybe he picks/buys flowers for Reader and gives them the flowers in front of Sky?? Readers reaction is up to you!!

Sorry if it’s an abrupt ask, but i just absolutely love your writing!! Take care!!

I'm so happy you like my writing! Take care you too! Thank you for requesting :]

Notes: To be fair I think I really left Warriors out in the last parts, this time Sky will be second and Warriors first! Let's see how this develops together because I sure didn't plan any of this.

Once again, this is TECHNICALLY a part 3 of the Kabedon Challenge oneshot, but it can be read by itself.

Once again sorry this took so long, my inspiration was quite thin and I suddenly found myself liking another Fandom which distracted me a bit during my free time. Life has been hard I guess lmao.

TWs: Yanderism.

LU! Warriors and Sky x Reader

A smile and a silent princess.

Despite many, and I mean, many tries at sabotaging your date nights ago, the night went greatly. Sky cheered silently as you went back to the camp. Maybe it was because he was the closest to the goddesses, but Sky proved to be the luckiest Link, even more so when you confirmed how that night had indeed been as good for you as it had for him.

Much to the other's dismay, Sky did not stop asking you out and neither did you stop agreeing to go out with him. No, you two seemed closer than ever.

So, obviously, Warriors had to intervene.

Therefore, since you didn't agree to go on dates with him, he picked the very next best thing. Gifts.

Warrior's gifts ranged from your favorite deserts to simple, beautiful flowers and trinkets. Infact, that's what he gave you just today.

The day was going generally well, the weather was perfect for a picnic, that was what Sky told you before showing you the basket full of things he had gone through the trouble of baking and preparing himself. This in itself was no easy feat, considering he wasn't the cook of The Chain for a reason.

Then again, since you guys were back in the wilderness, Sky had to be creative when it came to planning the "perfect" dates now, and in God was he succeeding.

Sky offered you his hand as he tilted his head towards where he was planning to take you. He blushed as you grabbed his outstretched hand, averting his gaze from your face as he did his best to bite back a smile, failing miserably as his grin turned into a badly suppressed side smile. You chuckled as you pulled him towards your destination, the one he pointed to moments before, breaking him out of his embarrassed stupor.

Warriors had been missing since early in the morning, Twilight and Time were aware of his whereabouts along with Legend. That's why you didn't put much thought into it, as long as the three of them weren't worried about it, then neither did you need to. Also, the boys had the right to come and go as they pleased, and either way, Warriors was completely able to fend for himself, if anything were to happen.

You couldn't, maybe that's why they forced insisted you stayed with them.

The place Sky brought you to was beautiful, something out of your daydreams. He was clearly trying very hard to impress you so you'll like him, and once again, he was succeeding.

Both of you were startled when a certain missing blond came barreling through the bushes, making a beeline to you.

After the initial scare, you relaxed and let out a breath, scanning Warrior's form superficially to see if you could find signals of him having had to escape from monsters or something, anything that would signify you three were in danger. You found none. Warrior's seemed completely fine as he regained his breath.

Sky gripped his sword in frustration at Warriors, he could see that the man was once again trying to ruin his date with you. At first, Sky had taken out his sword out of reflex, now he found himself considering the pros and cons of burying the shiny blade into Warriors pretty boy's face.

The cons started outweighing the pros when he noticed Warriors was holding something behind his back. Sky was beyond pissed at Warrior's pure audacity, it wouldn't be the first time Warriors did that kind of thing, he gifted you things almost everyday, but he had never done it during one of your dates. He had never reached that level of stupid.

Seemed like he had indeed just reached said level of stupid.

You stared at the man in front of you, wondering what he had brought with him this time around. Sky's restrained smile almost turned into a scowl, for a warrior, Warriors sure was getting cheesy.

Warriors crouched and stretched out his previously hidden hand towards you. Between his fingers stood the stem of another flower, your eyes widened with recognition at what flower it was.

Back when Wild first showed you his pictures on his sheikah slate, you freaked out, gaining attention from everyone, since they thought you were in danger, all that happened is you saw the infamous silent princess in one of the pictures.

Your little outburst specifically gained the attention of Warriors, who made sure to store the information in his memory. After all, if you liked the flower you would like him if he was the one to give it to you, right? Such reasoning only made further sense once he found out about the sheer rarity of the flower when he asked Wild where he could find the flower with blue and white petals.

Now, you understood why he was gone for so long, you couldn't even begin to imagine how hard it was to find that flower. And you had to admit, it was recognized for it's beauty for a reason.

Your own hand reached out to grab the flower from his, not you or Warriors noticing a glowering Sky behind you. Warriors instead kept his attention on you, his almost crazed grin softening to an adoring smile at your concentrated expression. He lowered himself onto his knee, in a proposal position, so it'd be easier for you to grab the flower, your hand brushed his as you grabbed said flower, a smile decorating your features. His face became subconsciously warmer, he felt accomplished as your eyes glanced into his before going back to the flower, like you were confirming your smile was meant for him, he was the reason for it even if just by doing something as simple as bringing you a flower.

Even if the flower in itself was hard as shit to find, that was not the point.

It was him, he made you smile. And surprisingly, that knowledge seemed more than enough for him. You didn't need to say or do anything else to express your gratitude because your simple smile was more than enough.

Maybe he really was softening, maybe being around Sky was contagious.

Right after your smile, there was else something that filled him with the warmth of accomplishment almost as much. Warriors reluctantly looked up from you, who was currently distracted by the flower in your hands, and to the man behind you, Sky, who was glaring at him. You see, no Link, including Warriors, had ever seen Sky mad, at least not this visibly mad, he really managed to get on his last nerves with his constant gift giving. Warrior's soft expression gave way to a smug smile.

While irritating Sky was not his main objective, it certainly was his side quest.

In one day, he finished both with flying colors. There was no way he wouldn't be proud of it. He earned the right to pat himself on the back mentally before resuming his main objective of having you fall for him and not Sky.

Altought, even though he believed himself to be a fearless warrior and hero, it was inevitable that he sprung up and ran when he noticed Sky lifting his master sword skyward and taking steps in his direction, a dark look almost akin to a shadow covering his face. Contrasting with the glowing sword he held up.

You looked up in confusion as you heard Warriors scrambling to get away from where you were, noticing just now you had stopped paying attention in order to understand how the flower in your possession seemed to glow despite not even being directly in light anymore, you were so disconnected from your surroundings you forgot to thank Warriors for the gift, one of the best until now. Sky, who was following after him, albeit slowly, stopped little ways in front of you to look over his shoulder at you, his face regaining an off innocent expression, just to say he'd be back soon.

Despite not seeing the dark look in his face directly, you could feel the ominous aura he exhaled as he ran after the man with the blue scarf, you guessed it was because he was angry with Warriors since he was the one to gifted you the flower, the unsheathed sword in his hands may have also been a tell though.

You sighed, placing the flower aside and getting up. This time around the fight would probably be more dangerous than the last ones since Sky was using his sword and Warriors was prone to do the same thing eventually, Hyrule would need your help to cure them.

It was a little upsetting that such a beautiful day had been wasted, the weather would have been perfect for a calm and undisturbed picnic.

[tisthedamngreenbriar]

windows boarded up after the storm, he built a fire just to keep me warm.

guys i'm so embarassed. so. i wrote this for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge, BUT THE JULY ONE. and as you may notice it is september already.

in my defense, i kinda started this one and then completely abandoned it on my drafts and never once looked back. but now is here! kinda! this is my first time ever writing a challenge, and also my first time posting my writing in here!! for the sprint challenge july 2023, I chose the social media prompt + one of the prompts from previous challenges (hope that was allowed??)

this is neither polished or revised, just fresh out the notes app so you guys will have to forgive me for errors. i fully intend to develop this aswell, but we'll see.

enjoy!

***

It was supposed to be small. A simple get together for their group, with cake and booze to celebrate Rose's birthday. But, now they were in a mansion one hour out of town and Marinette was pretty sure she could smell something burning.

But, first things first: lets not get ahead of ourselves.

***

Moving everything was a pain in the ass. They'd to be quick and through so no food or garnment was neither damaged nor left behind - also watch out for the worst case scenario, harming sound equipament -, and the threat of the storm was making Marinette mimic the thunders, rumbling with anxiety. With everything already packed in the cars, they went on their merry way, with Adrien leading the path out of the city. 

The blonde boy really was an angel. Offering to take the party to his country house when the weather became Marinette's worse enemy was so kind that the bluenette's heart fluttered a bit, reminding her why she used to have that stupid and exponentially big crush on him all those years ago. Not that that meant anything: her romantic organ also gave a little jump seeing him help Kagami, his long term girlfriend, into the car. Affection just made her goofy.

Getting to the estate was easy, since the rain wasn't really pouring yet and the traffic was on their side, for a change. Obviously, it was huge, because the Agrestes never failed in that department, and everyone immeadiately? started setting everything up on the patio behind the main house and in front of the guest one, so they could use it for bathroom breaks and personal items since no one was willying to wander in the Agreste's mansion and risk scarring his perfectly put everything. The rain didnt seem to follow them so atleast it was safe to be outside.

And then there was Luka. Going around helping out everyone, smilling and whistling to himself. Luka who was just as oblivious to her as Adrien had been, cause apparently that was just her luck. 

"Girl, stop staring, Jesus" Alya's voice broke off any coherent line of thought that Marinette could have formed, startling the smaller one. "You're gonna burn holes on that poor boys back"

"Am I that bad, or is it possible that you are just a drama queen hoping to live uncomfortable situations vicariously through me since you are on a happy and commited relationship?" Marinette arched her brown and left out a breath after going through that phrase fast so that her best friend couldn't interrupt.

"I thought you were a double  major on fashion and business, not psychoanalysis, babes" Alya's eyes closed in on her behind the glasses, the tilt of the redhead's head adding to the menacing look.

"And I thought you were on margarita duty. Where are my drinks, Césaire?"

"Here," the sound came from behind Marinette and this time the jump almost made her drop the firmly held karaoke machine. Before she could register the movement, a arm came foward to take it out of her hands, caging her in. "Where do you want these?" The voice was now in her ear, speaking so softly it could only belong to Luka. This time, the surprise made her actually jerk foward and the man stepped back to allow the reaction.

With the added space, Marinette turned to face him, carrying a pint of she supposed were margaritas on one hand and the box who she was just strugglig with on the other like it was nothing. Looking absolutely delicious doing both, not to mention it.

"Sorry for the scare, Mari," he smiled at her apologetic and she believed she could have died right there on the spot, hearing the nickname and seeing the dimples "'I was just trying to help."

"No, no, its okay! Im just... jumpy. So much to do and whatnot" she tried her best to smile back but the proximity made it wobly. she probably looked so silly that just thinking about it made her wanna scream. But Luka didnt seem fazed.

"At your service" Marinette felt like passing out. "I'm gonna find a place to put these down and then come back to help, okay?"

Not trusting herself to speak, the French-Chinese simply nodded, and at that he walked out. Alya's eyes were on her the whole time, fighting back the smirk.

"Not a word" Marinette sushed her, and the journalist cackled into the sky.

***

The party was a success, as far as last minute ones go. It made Rose so happy she teared up a little over the cake, plus she was so delighted at Marinettes dedication to making the whole arrangement work -- and fighting for the party to go on on the first place -- that the petit blond decided to gift her with the first slice of cake.

Now, it was late and they were all a little too buzzed to drive back. The lights and decorations were all still up, so they sat on a messy circle made out of lawn chairs and pillows, chating about nothing in particular.

Somehow, Marinette ended up on Luka's chair, their bodies pressed together in the small space. Looking for the perfect position, luka grabbed her legs so that they were in his lap and trew one of his arms over her shoulders, causing the girl to shiver with the contact.

"You cold?" He asked her while drawing patterns on her knee hith the hand that rested there. She took a minute to answer positively, barely registering that it was a question, concentrating too much on the way his fingers found the spot that got all her hairs standing and saluding the man that was Luka Couffaine. The second shudder was welcomed by him, who took the softly whispered "yes" and the trembling as results of her freezing and not Marinette being turned on. Thank God for small mercies.

With that, Luka got up and sprinted away after drapping his jacket all around her. She didnt quite understand what was going on until he had already organized all the firewood on the middle of the patio and was trying to light it.

He wasnt. No way.

But apparently the thought of setting stuff on fire appealed more to Luka than simply holding her. Awesome.

"Do you ever just forget they're Couffaines? But then they do something like like this." She could hear the laugh in Rose's voice before turning to meet her eye. "In the beggining of our relationship Juleka would pull the most ridiculous stunts and go the hardest lenghts to prove herself to me. It was so silly. I felt like a damsel in distress on a bad mute movie. But don't worry too much about it. Luka is far more vocal than Jules, and even if he weren't they are fast learners, the Couffaines."

...What?

Maybe the confusion was obvious in Marinettes face, or she had said it out loud cause Rose continued.

"What? Did I say something wrong? Did I meddled? Is just that you guys have been on this will they, won't the thing for so long, and neither of you would just come out and say it! It feels good to be finally able to say it, that's it." Marinettes eyes widened even more than she thought it was possible. What the hell Rose thinks is going on?

It was only when all the bluenette could do was look terrified with her mouth basically hanging open, that the blonde one realized she made a mistake.

[mochiwrites]

last life au

in light of third life turning two years old today, I offer a wip I've had sitting in my google drive since february! if any of you remember this post I made a while back, all you need to know is that third life!grian has swapped places with last life!grian somehow. without further ado, here's my very unfinished and very rough last life au wip (pls don't judge it too harshly LOL)

happy two years to the series that changed me as a person! :D (edit: now posted on ao3! read here)

if you enjoyed, please reblog! reblogs do more than likes <3

To Grian, the desert was once a home.

It wasn’t perfect, not really. Perfection is nearly impossible in a game of death, but what he and Scar had came close. The desert was the farthest thing from a good location, all things considered. The days were hot, far too hot, and the nights were so cold that it left Scar and Grian curling up close for warmth. There was nothing but sand for miles, which made gathering materials a constant challenge. 

But they had their home. Their tower, their place of respite. Dogwarts was a constant threat barreling down their door, but together they made it work. Their home was far from perfect, but it was theirs and that’s what Grian came to love about it. 

Except now, as he stands in a ring of cacti, he has destroyed his home. 

His home is filled with lava and craters, a reminder of what they did to survive. Their desert was ruined days ago in what they had hoped to be the final showdown with Dogwarts and The Red King. They blew up their desert for a win they never achieved. 

Maybe that was the first sign that things were going wrong. Their desert, their home, their small temporary sanctuary in this hellish game was blown apart. 

Ends justifies the means, no?

After all, to Grian, their home was more than just the desert. Their home was with each other. The desert never mattered much to him, not when he had Scar, and vice versa. The desert was a symbol, more than anything. Of Grian’s debt, his guilt. He’ll never admit it, but it felt a bit liberating to destroy it. 

And maybe that’s why things went oh so horribly wrong. 

Maybe that is why his fists are shaking, knuckles raw and covered in blood. Maybe that is why he stares down at the bloodied corpse of what was once his partner, his other half. His insides twist and turn, creating a mangled mess of emotions within him. The sun beats down on him, sweat and blood mixing together as one. His hair is in his eyes, but he doesn’t care much. His tank top feels like too much but also too little all at once.

His knuckles ache, his body is sore. He’s hardly covered in bruises and scratches, and yet he still feels like he’s just been beaten half to death anyways. 

He can’t bear to look at Scar, to meet his gaze and see his own brightly shining eyes reflected in lifeless, empty ones. 

“For everything you’ve done to keep me alive this long, you may slay me and take the enchanter.” 

Scar’s words ring in his head, accompanied by his laughter. Grian puts a bloodied hand up to his mouth as a wave of nausea rolls over him. He doesn’t pay any mind to the copper twinge that fills his mouth. He tears his gaze away from anywhere remotely near Scar, instead turning and looking over the mountain. 

Their home is in ruins. Their home is gone. The last of their home has been destroyed by his own two hands, killed for the sake of winning some pointless game. 

His victory feels hollow. Empty. 

He had wanted to win together. Winning without Scar felt… wrong. It feels wrong. After all they’ve been through, after establishing something between them, winning alone just… didn’t look as appealing anymore. 

“I’m getting you! I’m getting you good!” “I don’t think you are!” 

His hands ache. His chest feels tight, as if his ribs have been coiled tightly around his lungs to constrict his air flow. He takes a slow step back, as if trying to escape the scene of the crime. His legs shake from the weight of both his body and his actions. Grian takes a shaky breath. 

“Can we win together?” 

He stumbles as he walks backwards, his world dipping and tilting. 

Grian won alone. 

He doesn’t feel like a winner. 

He doesn’t even want that title. 

The guilt is eating at him. Why? Why is he the one that survived? The point of all of this was so that Scar could win! That’s why Grian stayed with him! 

(He won’t admit to himself that there’s more to it than that. He won’t admit to himself that somewhere along the way his feelings changed. No longer was he staying by Scar’s side out of guilt or obligation. Without Grian even noticing, Scar grew on him. Scar broke through his walls with his ridiculous yet charming nature, and Grian found himself wanting to stay with Scar because he wanted to see him win. Because somehow, somewhere, Grian’s heart had been swayed and stolen. Somewhere, he had fallen in love.) 

For a moment, he’s angry. He’s angry at the blood lusting ghosts for demanding a final fight. He’s angry at Scar for letting him win, for making him win. Frustrated, bitter words lay on his tongue as he turns around to admonish the man, emotions getting the better of him. 

Only to turn and be met with his corpse. Blood pools around Scar’s body, bruises littering his face and chest. Grian had been throwing punches wildly. 

His stomach lurches, and he covers his mouth again. Copper fills his nostrils, heavy and thick. “Oh… I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, but there’s no one around to hear him. 

He tears his gaze away, instead surveying the desert around him. His blood is rushing in his ears, making it hard to hear. His head swims as he stands still, looking over at the rivers of lava throughout the desert. 

Grian’s eyes settle on the cliff face.  

This desert isn’t a home anymore. It’s vacant, empty. Pointless. His home doesn’t exist, not without Scar. 

He walks toward the cliff. 

“Scar, I’m so sorry!”

“I’m sorry too!”

The desert is unfamiliar, morphing and twisting into something dark and unwelcoming. It has become  a monster of Grian’s own creation. It has become something that Grian has ripped apart with his own two hands. Something that once brought him warmth is now cold and barren. The desert is a shadow, a weak imitation of what it once was. 

He stands on the ledge. 

He wonders what was going through Scar’s mind during all of this. What was he thinking? Does he hate Grian for being the one to survive? Is he at peace, having been the one to die? Does he hate Grian for killing him? Does he hate Grian for ruining their home? Or is he happy with the way that things have gone? Grian supposes he’ll never get to know. 

He shuts his eyes and jumps. 

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

Muffled noises surround him.

He can’t quite make out what the noises are, not when it feels like his head has been submerged under water. One by one, his senses return to him and huh, that’s weird. He’s dead, yet he can feel his body? That… shouldn’t be normal. Granted, Grian has never been permanently dead before. Do most dead people still feel their body? Is that even possible? 

The next thing he feels is something soft underneath him. Now Grian knows that isn’t right. The last thing he remembers feeling is his body slamming into the hard ground below, shattering his bones. The pain had only lasted a few seconds before Grian fell unconscious, but it had been excruciating while he could still feel. Darkness had come to claim him quite swiftly. 

But whatever he’s laying on… it feels nothing like the harsh sand. It’s softer, almost silky. Plush. It only serves to confuse Grian more, seeing as once more, he isn’t sure if feeling things still is normal for a dead person. 

Ever so slowly, Grian slowly opens his eyes. His eyes are met with a stone ceiling, which… is that supposed to be there? 

Grian had a few ideas of what the afterlife would be like – if he even has one. An empty void, or maybe the End. Perhaps he’d return to the wasteland that was once his home and haunt it as a ghost. (A kinder part of him had hoped that he’d reunite with his friends, and they could all cry and hug one another. And maybe he could see Scar again, and shake him around for making Grian kill him, and then hold onto the man so that he’d never lose him again.)

Experimentally, he wiggles a finger or two. Yup, there’s still a body attached to him. Alright. Though to his surprise, he isn’t in any sort of pain. Maybe that shouldn’t be surprising, all things considered. 

Something wet touches his hand then, and Grian leaps up with a shriek. He pulls his hand back and looks at whatever touched him, finding a dog sitting on the ground. “Huh?” He looks at the dog, seeing a red collar around its neck. “Why is there a dog here?” The animal simply tilts its head to the side in response. 

It’s then that Grian actually takes the time to look around at where he is, and he pauses. The first thing he notices is that he’s laying in a white bed. There’s a chest and a crafting table in front of the bed, and there are dogs just about everywhere. Ah, so that’s what all the noise was. A furnace is set on the floor against the wall, and Grian finds himself feeling very confused. 

This is… definitely not the afterlife, that’s for sure. 

Did someone rescue him? How? Grian was the only one left on Third Life, everyone else was… 

Lips curling in a frown, he moves to slide off of the bed. Just as his foot touches the ground, he pauses, recognizing the extra weight on his body. Looking down at himself, Grian finds iron armor on him, which only worsens his confusion. Why is he in armor? 

Standing from the bed, he looks around at the room. He’s certain that he’s underground, if the walls of stone and dirt are anything to go by. He watches as one of the dogs (a pup) clambers onto the bed and circles the pillow before curling up and laying down. 

It leaves him feeling very confused. 

He casts a glance around at the stone box he’s in, looking at each of the dogs. Some of them don’t pay him any mind, and others are staring right at him. Who’s dogs are these? And why are they here, wherever here is. They seem friendly with him at least, but Grian doesn’t know if that makes him relaxed or more nervous. He remembers Joel’s pack of wolves. 

While looking around, he spots a ladder tucked against the wall leading down. He doesn’t go toward it, in case it’s trapped. Instead, he looks at the pickaxe he has on him and uses that to cautiously dig a little staircase up. 

It takes him a few minutes to get to the surface, considering he’s trying to dig out and also listen to his surroundings. When he finally pops his head out from the dirt, he does so carefully, peeking out to look around him. There’s no one around him besides trees and mountains. He sighs softly in relief. Though he still has to remain vigilant. 

Climbing out of the hole, he covers it back up with dirt (just in case if he was saved by someone, they won’t immediately notice he’s gone). Standing at full height, Grian takes a look around. The first thing he notices is how the landscape is completely different to Third Life. What is this place, he wonders. The terrain all looks different.

Lips dipping in a frown, he sets his hands on his hips, “Definitely not in Kansas anymore…” he mumbles to himself. If this is the afterlife, it’s quite odd, that’s for sure. 

While looking around, he catches sight of something in the distance. It looks like some kind of cobblestone building with roofs of dark oak. From where he is, he can spot four of them. One is at the very top of a mountain, being the most visible. 

The idea of approaching it leaves Grian hesitant, but maybe a little investigation wouldn’t hurt. He’s going to have to check it out if he wants any answers as to what this place is. So he makes a journey toward the direction of the towers. Trekking through the trees, he uses the branches for coverage. 

And when he gets to the big entrance of the four towers, he pauses. 

Grian stares at the front entrance, watching as pistons move up and down in front of him. Watching it, his eyes follow the movements curiously. Surrounding the entrance are walls of dark oak and cobble, wrapping around the base completely. He considers walking inside, maybe exploring whatever this new structure is. There was nothing inside the chest within the bunker for him. 

His inventory is an assortment of different items, none of which Grian knows what’s important and what isn’t. By now he’s ascertained that he’s in fact not dead. Which is… confusing. How is he alive? And where is he?

“Oh, Grian!” Someone’s calling his name, and the sound of someone else’s voice makes him jump. He looks up, seeing a familiar blue and red jump suit and dirty blond hair. 

Grian’s eyes widen, “Tim..?” The name escapes him with a sharp breath. No longer does his skin look sickly and gray, instead healthy and free of blood. His hair is vibrant, as are his brown eyes. A diamond chest plate sits over his upper body, iron leggings and boots. Grian almost feels like he’s seeing a ghost. The last time he saw Jimmy, it had been in the desert. Right before he died. 

It feels weird to see him again, considering he wasn’t meant to die in that fight. He was meant to stay safe. With Scar. 

Grief and regret crashes into him at once, nearly knocking him over. Images of that battle flicker in his mind, as well as the aftermath. They hadn’t spent long at Jimmy’s grave. 

(Grian paid Jimmy’s grave a visit late that night. He had been fully aware of the risks, knowing that anyone from Dogwarts could attack him. But Grian could bet with certainty they were too busy enjoying a perceived victory against the Desert. 

Jimmy’s grave was nothing fancy. Extravagance was a privilege they didn’t have there. Simple cobblestone walls and a poppy planted in the ground was all Scott could give him. 

Grian sat down, and apologized. He hadn’t even been there for Jimmy’s death. Jimmy wasn’t supposed to die. And Grian hadn’t even been there to help him. He apologized for that. He promised revenge. His death would not be in vain. 

At some point, someone had joined him. A warmth slotted against his side, and the smell of sweat, burnt sand, and summer heat filled his senses. He relaxed. 

Neither of them spoke for a while. Grian leaned against Scar, letting his thoughts wander. 

“I’m sorry the trap got messed up.” Scar apologized with a low mutter. 

Grian huffed quietly, gently knocking his head against his arm,“I don’t care about that. I mean, I do since the only one it got was me, but — I’m more thankful you survived.” 

“…I’m sorry you died,” was Scar’s response, “But on the bright side, your debt’s been repaid! You’re a free man!” Grian knew Scar well enough by then to know when he was forcing himself to act cheerful. He could hear the underlying sadness in his voice, the way he was holding something back. But most of all he could hear the fear. 

To that, Grian only pressed himself more firmly against him. “Then my first act as a free man is to see this through with you until the end.” 

He heard Scar take a breath; shaky and rough. An arm wrapped around him, and he heard a murmured, “Thank you.”)

Jimmy looks a little nervous as he stands on the other side of the pistons, “What’re you doing all the way over there for? Get in ‘ere already!” he exclaims, gesturing for him to come in. “Mumbo disabled the trap!” 

His body moves as if it’s on autopilot, legs carrying him toward the gate. He clumsily hops over the pistons and line of stone bricks, landing on the other side. His footing is a bit clumsy as he hits the ground, wobbling slightly. Jimmy laughs at him, and Grian tries to process the sound. 

Jimmy isn’t dead. He’s alive. 

What in the world is going on? 

Grian goes over to him, staring at him with something akin to marvel. Jimmy turns to him, still looking nervous. “So uh… I’m not going to be kicked out, right? I know we had the vote and all yesterday but just wanted to triple check you didn’t change your mind overnight,” he rambles to Grian, shifting back and forth on his feet. 

“What?” Blinking in confusion, Grian looks at him. “Why would I be—”

“Oi, Tim! Give the man some space to breathe, would ya?” Another voice joins them, and Grian tenses at the familiarity. “He only just got back last night. At least wait an extra five minutes before you start pestering ‘im.”

Glancing to his side, he spots The Red King’s right hand man approaching them. He’s dressed in iron, a shield attached to his arm. The familiar black bandana peeks out from underneath his hair and his blue eyes are creased with amusement as he looks at the pair. “Martyn?!” The exclamation escapes him before he can stop it. He takes a small step in front of Jimmy, knowing that Scott would be crushed if he lost him a second time (The memory of Scott in his mind would be, anyways). He keeps himself on guard. 

Martyn smiles at the pair, “Good morning to you too, fellow Southlander!” He grins. “How’s it feel to be yellow again, eh Grian?” he questions, which makes Grian bristle slightly. He remembers Martyn taking his first life very clearly.

“I’m–”

“Watch out!” A voice calls out, followed by the sounds of feet hitting the ground. Grian jumps as someone barrels past himself and Martyn, cutting right through them in a blur of black. “Hot lava bucket in my hands!” 

“I told you to wear gloves!” A second voice follows, and Grian catches a glimpse of yellow and black. He turns his head in the direction the two voices went, seeing them both by the entrance of the fort. Almost instantly, Grian recognizes Impulse from behind. But the one next to him… 

Grian feels his entire body freeze. His breath is punched out of him, eyes widening. 

The man next to Impulse is setting the bucket of lava down with a large sigh, shoulders sagging in relief. He straightens up, taking a moment to glance around. His eyes lock with Grian’s, and Grian feels rooted to his spot. His throat feels dry, as if he hasn’t drank anything in weeks. He swallows, but it does little to rid the feeling. 

Oblivious to Grian’s freezing, the man smiles wide at him, hurrying over. “Grian!” he exclaims, “Glad you got here before I reset the trap, mate, “ he greets cheerfully, but Grian feels too stunned to speak. 

Why is Mumbo here? Why? 

A multitude of emotions crash into Grian’s chest at the sight of his best friend. Relief, horror, guilt. They each roll over him, loud and vicious as they threaten to overwhelm him. He can’t look away from the man, the feeling of confusion holding his head above water. 

(“Do you think Mumbo would be proud?” The question had been half nonchalant as the pair ran through the desert, digging deep underground. The true meaning of the question was a secret, one between only himself and Scar.

Scar paused to consider it. He had lifted a finger to his chin as he thought, “Oh! Mumbo would be crying from happiness!”

“Be honest with me.” Grian had said. 

Scar hadn’t been.) 

Standing in front of the man, Grian does not share the thought. Not after the blood staining his hands. And isn’t that ironic? In a game where your aim is to kill and survive, he feels guilty over killing. But maybe that’s because of who his final kill was. Because of how it all ended. Grian had hoped he’d never have to face Mumbo after that, but apparently fate had other plans. 

“Speaking of getting here early,” Martyn’s voice cuts through the fog of confusion settling over Grian’s mind, causing him to look over at the other. Grian forces his gaze away from Mumbo with a painful pang, meeting Martyn’s eyes, “I see you’ve gone and scored another life on your way back from Scar’s.” He wiggles his brows.

Just hearing Scar’s name causes Grian’s stomach to curl with grief, “W-What?” he asks, the shock of Martyn’s statement sending him back a small step. 

“Don’t you try and fool me, G, the last time we saw you you were on yellow life. And now you’re green!” Martyn points at his wrist, and naturally, Grian’s gaze follows. 

His heart squeezes uncomfortably tight as he sees the familiar line of hearts down his wrist. There’s three hearts on his wrist, green, yellow, and red. Nausea rolls over him like a blanket, wrapping around him and tightening around his neck. He feels sick. Why? Why?! He thought he was done with all of this! Was killing Scar not enough? Was winning an empty, meaningless victory not enough?! 

Is this his punishment? Or some sick kind of joke?! 

He clenches his fists, watching the way they shake from how tightly he clenches them. Burning hot anger runs through him like lava, melting his insides. The warmth goes from top to bottom, engulfing him in an angry, vicious flame. He feels too much, yet too little all at once. He wants to scream. To cry. Maybe break something, or blow something up. Blood is pumping in his ears; his heart feels like it’s going to burst. 

This isn’t the afterlife. This is hell. 

“Grian?” Mumbo’s gentle, concerned voice breaks through the anger threatening to overtake him like a light. The sound of his voice snaps him from his spiraling thoughts, and he notices how his fingers dig uncomfortably into his skin. As if his nails can break the hearts on his wrist, shatter them. He lets go instantly, seeing angry red lines left behind. 

Lifting his gaze, Grian sees four pairs of eyes watching him. Yet the only eyes he focuses on are Mumbo’s, it’s been so long since he’s seen the man. His presence is normally a comfort for Grian, something grounding. But right now, all Grian feels is conflict. His grief and guilt is suffocating, and Mumbo’s presence does little to help that feeling. Mumbo looks at him with nothing but concern and kindness, with the way his eyebrows dip and lower, a worried frown marring his face.

Mumbo takes a step closer, hand reaching out to him, “You alright, mate?” Looking down, Grian sees the man’s wrist. Four hearts go down his wrist in a line. Two of them are already gone, looking faded and cracked. The sight of the hearts on his wrist sends his stomach dropping, heart lodging in his throat.  

Grian recoils from his outstretched hand as if it were a weapon, and Mumbo freezes in place. He pulls his hand back. His face falls, and Grian pretends he doesn’t see. 

“I’m fine.” Grian hastily replies, ignoring the burst of pain in his chest. He scans the people around him. Mumbo, Impulse, Jimmy, and… Martyn. He takes a breath. So he’s stuck in another life game. Great. And it looks like these four are his… alliance. 

A sudden thought strikes him. If those four are here then… who else is here?

His communicator pings, and he pulls it up, heart still firmly lodged in his throat.

<GoodTimeWithScar> oh team BEST~

<GoodTimeWithScar> A wizard *never* forgets his promise.

If seeing Mumbo made him sick, then seeing Scar’s message in chat plunges him into freezing cold water. Scar’s name is red (of course it is), and it sends nostalgia and grief tearing through him all at once. Everything suddenly feels like it’s too much, his head swimming. He stumbles slightly, nearly falling if it hadn’t been for Jimmy taking hold of him. “Seriously, you alright?” Jimmy questions, and Grian… Grian doesn’t know. 

All he can think about is his final moments with Scar leading up to that stupid duel. The splashing of water below him as he jumped down to meet him in that shallow pond. 

“Betrayer!” he had screamed. 

Well look who’s laughing now. 

Grian had thought about it very briefly, in his final moments, what it’d be like if he ever met Scar again. He had wondered if Scar would scorn him, or if Scar would pull him into his arms and congratulate him on a battle well fought. He had also considered keeping his distance, as far away as possible, as to never hurt Scar again. 

And yet, just as usual, his heart never listens to his brain. 

Because as he looks at his communicator, watching the others reply in chat, his eyes only focus on Scar’s name. There’s a part of him, a very deep part within, that cries out for him. It sees Scar’s name, and it reaches. It reaches far and wide, and it doesn’t concern itself with the logical side of Grian’s brain. No, it simply sees the fact that Scar is clearly alive and well and it wants to run right toward him. 

Seeing Scar’s name makes Grian’s chest ache with a deep yearning that he knows can never be satisfied. There is an ache in him that he knows will only continue to eat away at himself, until he is rotting and reaching. His soul is crying, begging for Scar at his side, and though Grian knows that he will only be the catalyst to Scar’s ultimate demise, he is weak to the pull of his emotions. 

Grian’s other half is alive! He is alive and that part of Grian feels incomplete without him. Empty. His heart aches at the thought of being with Scar again, of being able to give him the apology he deserves. Just the thought of being able to apologize to him is enough to break Grian down. 

“S-Scar,” he stammers, completely forgetting that Jimmy even asked him a question. “He’s – I have to get to him,” he says, turning to the others. 

He’s met with varying expressions of confusion, though it’s Impulse who says something, “Didn’t you already bring him his stuff after he died?” he questions, and Grian quickly shakes his head. 

“No I just – where is he? I-I need to see him, I–” he stammers, thoughts running far too quickly for him to actually think coherently. 

“Up north dude, where he always is.” Martyn replies, though he’s looking at Grian with… something. If he weren’t so distracted by the thought of Scar, he’d probably look closer into that. However, distraction is the card he’s been dealt, and he lets it play. He spins on his heel for the exit, walking briskly with purpose. “Make sure he doesn’t kill you!” Martyn calls after him, “Remember the guy’s on red!"

Grian knows he won’t. 

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

If Grian is being honest with himself, he probably should have put more thought into this. He didn’t even come here with a plan! He had just heard that Scar was north, so north is where he went. He was moving too fast for his brain to actually catch up. 

It was a bit of a journey, getting from the cobbled towers (the Southlanders, his mind supplies) to the big mountain in the north. But the second he saw the hut on top of the mountain, he knew exactly who lived there. 

Maybe what made the journey so difficult was the thoughts that accompanied him. 

Grian won’t say that he ran to Scar’s — because he didn’t. Not really. He had walked. And his thoughts consumed him with every step. 

He’s stuck in another life game. Scar is here. Mumbo is here. He doesn’t know what it means. This game isn’t Third Life, he knows that much. His mind is scrambling, trying to come up with some kind of plan. A strategy. He’s trying to lay out a safety net for himself but he should’ve known from the start it’d be pointless. 

There are no safety nets in a game of death. There are no “plans”, despite how badly Grian may want to use one. He learned in Third Life that plans don’t work, even the most carefully planned strategy blows up in his face. It won’t stop him though. A plan gives him something to fall back on, a faux comfort. 

A plan keeps him from running headfirst into danger, a plan keeps him alive.  

Which is why he probably should’ve come up with a plan before going to Scar. He doesn’t know what kind of state the man will be in. He isn’t sure how to even approach a reunion with him. It’s obvious that he’s in some kind of… who even knows where. Obviously his friends all know him here, but he isn’t sure if they remember him. Who he is. What he’s done. What they’ve all done. 

It doesn’t help that he’s apparently been dropped right in the middle of this new game. 

He doesn’t know how to handle an approach to Scar. Hug him? Smack him? Ask him if he knows who he is? A no on that last one, Jimmy and the others have already answered that. Besides, Grian isn’t sure if he could handle Scar looking at him like Grian was a stranger in every sense of the word except the literal one. 

He settles on just seeing what happens. Sometimes no plan is the best plan! 

But just — not in a death game. 

His thoughts trail off as he approaches the bottom of the mountain, and he looks up. He grimaces as he gets a clearer view of the hut up top, sighing. “Of course Scar had to put his base in the most precarious spot ever,” he grumbles before beginning to make his way up the mountain. He makes sure to be careful with each step, keeping himself aware of where he’s stepping. 

When he makes it to the top of the mountain, he’s rather out of breath, chest heaving from exertion. This mountain is a lot bigger than the one back in the desert. But he reaches the top, and is face to face with a hut made of wood and dark stone. The roof on top looks like a wizard’s hat, and Grian can’t help his fond huff. 

He focuses his gaze on the entryway, finding it wide open. This is it. Scar is beyond that doorway. Grian’s hands shake just at the thought of seeing him again. Anxiety runs through his blood like water, filling him completely. His heart picks up, beating against his ribcage. He swallows thickly. 

A small part of him wants to run away. A small part of him wants to turn around and head right back down the mountain and forget that he even came here. A small part of him is afraid to look Scar in the eyes. It makes him feel like a coward. 

And yet despite that small part of him, Grian walks forward. 

He walks right into the hut, and promptly stops. Right in front of him is none other than Scar. He’s digging around in a barrel, humming to himself. Grian isn’t sure what the tune is, or where it’s from, but the scene feels familiar. His chest aches. 

“Scar?” he says, causing the man to yell out. 

He jumps up in surprise, letting out the typical fearful scream he does whenever he’s snuck up on. It makes Grian smile softly, and god he misses this man. Scar spins around on his heels, turning to look at Grian. Grian gets a good look at his eyes, and he sees a dark red haze swirling in them. There is not a hint of warmth in his eyes, no kind of recollection or even joy at seeing him. Grian isn’t sure what he sees in Scar’s eyes, but he knows that there is anger in them. Bloodlust. 

(He thinks he might see hatred. And that is a thought that shakes him right to his core. He does not want to live in a world where Scar hates him, even if it is justified. Does that make him selfish?) 

“Oh, Grian,” Scar eventually says, and his voice is cold. Empty. He takes a step forward, something whimsical about his footing. Scar is dressed in dark robes, stark white hair peeking out from underneath. “If you’re here to nab another life from me, Grian, I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. There is a promise of a threat in his voice. 

Grian frowns at that, chest panging. “I’m not interested in your life, Scar,” he says matter of factly. He’s already taken one (two, if his guilt counts the creeper), he doesn’t want another one. 

A laugh spills from Scar, something lacking any real humor. “Oh, don’t you play with me!” he exclaims, voice sharp and angular. The sound of it causes Grian to jolt in surprise. “You can fool me once or twice! Or…” he trails off, thinking. “Three times, whatever, it doesn’t matter!” 

“Scar…” Grian says, and he quickly realizes that he probably should’ve prepared himself a bit more. He lets the other approach him. There’s something different about him compared to Third Life. Something bitter, cynical. Grian isn’t sure if it’s because of the nature of this new game, or if it’s simply because Scar is on red. 

“No, Grian!” Scar exclaims, reaching for his diamond sword. “You know, I was planning on hitting Team BEST first, give ‘em a real good thrashing. Send a message and all that! Can’t mess with ol’ Scar! Not anymore, no sir!” He takes another step toward Grian. 

It’s the instinct of green life, Grian knows, that has him backing away slowly. He takes a few tiny steps backwards. 

Scar looks at him, something angry and hurt in his gaze, “But I think you’ll make a good first message to the masses. You were the first to take advantage of me, after all.” 

Grian’s back slams into the wall behind him, crushing his wings. He cringes at the feeling, but he doesn’t move. Scar is cornering him, holding the blade to his throat. He easily towers over Grian, putting just enough pressure on his sword to spill a bit of blood. 

Looking at him, Grian doesn’t see a hint of the Scar he once knew. He isn’t quite sure what’s going on here, what the Grian of this game has done to wrong Scar, but what he does know is this. 

He killed Scar. 

And the hatred in Scar’s eyes isn’t misplaced or even misdirected. 

He doesn’t fight back against the blade on his throat, the blade that is spilling his blood. He simply stands there and meets Scar’s hazy red eyes. To Grian, he thinks this is good retribution for the cactus ring. He sees no point in fighting against Scar when this is something he believes he deserves. 

Yet Scar thinks otherwise. 

See, he had expected a lot out of today. He’s on red now, and he had a goal in mind. He was going to make everyone on this forsaken server regret thinking they could just use Scar as they please. He was going to start with BEST, and then work his way to the others. But then Grian just came waltzing in like they were old buddies and Scar wasn’t going to let a golden opportunity slip past him. 

He has a whole separate issue with Grian, after all. 

But as he stares into Grian’s eyes, he sees something odd. Firstly he stares up at Scar with blatant confusion and hurt. It makes him want to laugh. What does Grian possibly have to be hurt over? 

Though that isn’t what makes him pause. No, what makes him truly falter is the guilt he sees in Grian’s eyes. 

He observes the green life in front of him (Wasn’t Grian yellow? Did he swindle someone else out of a life?) and notices that there’s no fight. Grian isn’t pushing back against him. He’s not arguing or drawing his own weapon. Not even as Scar draws blood and pushes the blade harder. 

Suddenly the appeal of killing Grian leaves him. What fun is a kill that rolls over and exposes their weak point? 

Scar scoffs at him before making up his mind and taking a step back. So much for that perfect message in chat. Looks like Team BEST is back as his number one target. He lowers his sword completely. 

Grian watches him with confusion, “Scar?” 

The red life meets his gaze, a deep frown settling on his lips. “Who are you?”

[kingdaddydaichi]

☆ title: redefining (ch. 2) | (ch. 1) ☆ (ch. 3)

☆ pairing: cop!daichi sawamura x single mom!reader

☆ wc: 3.1k

☆ synopsis: four years after leaving your toxic ex, you find yourself a single mom to a 10-year-old boy named musubi, who harbors a lot of misdirected anger. you hear from his fifth grade teacher, mr. suga, more often than your own mother and a resulting friendship is born. meeting suga’s best friend wages a war between your head and your heart - one that challenges everything you think you know about love and police officers. neither are to be trusted. both have left you lost and scared when you needed them the most. so, when a cop comes knocking at love’s door, just how strong is your resolve to keep your heart under lock and key?

☆ warnings/notes: sfw (this chapter; nsfw to come in later chapters). daichi's a cop. (mention of) dv (domestic violence).

✩ beta readers - aka my beautiful, chaotic, chosen family: @chaoskrakenuwu 🌪 @mxgenderbender 🦔

She knows every move that a man could make She knows every trick in the book She knows how to give, she knows how to take ‘Cause so many times she’s been taken a fool

Alibis - Tracy Lawrence

When Suga invited you to his place for a small dinner party with some of his closest friends, you’d offered to help him prep and cook. Your son was spending the weekend with his dad, freeing you up for some much-needed time to blow off steam.

Upon getting into your car, you called Suga to let him know you were on your way to his place.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to pick anything up on the way over?”

“Nah. I think we’re set!”

“Okay, I’ll be there in about 20 then!”

You opened the front door to Suga’s house and walked in to find him prepping in the kitchen. He wiped his hands to greet you with a hug.

“Thank you so much for coming to help me, y/n. My head would probably explode if I tried to do all this by myself!”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure! I love to cook. Plus it gives me more time to hang out with my bestie,” you said, putting away the alcohol and mixers you’d brought along. “I’m really excited to meet your other friends. I hope they like me.”

The grey-haired man smiled brightly. “Are you kidding? They’re gonna love you! I’ve known all these guys since high school. A couple of them are bringing their significant others along so it won’t be a complete sausage fest for you.”

“You make it sound like a sausage fest would be a bad thing,” you winked at him.

You both laughed and got busy preparing the food, Suga inwardly rubbing his hands together and evil-laughing. You had no idea about his master plan for you to meet one of his friends in particular - his best friend.

You had been working in the kitchen for a little over two hours when you finally found yourselves at a brief stopping point. Veggies had been julienned for the sushi, fish had been fileted, chicken had been teriyakied, rice had been fried, and more veggies were roasting in the oven. All that was left to do was cook the sushi rice then assemble the maki.

Poor Suga was so beat you insisted he go take a load off and relax for a bit while he could. The way he dramatically plopped onto the couch like a rag doll made you chuckle at him.

“You too, y/n! Come sit your ass down!”

“In a minute! I’m working on something!” you said, getting out a couple of cocktail glasses.

“No! I forbid you! No more working!” Suga called out from his living room.

“I promise it’s gonna be worth it!” you answered in a sing-song voice.

You walked out of the kitchen double-fisting vodka tonics. You sat down next to your friend who reached for one of the drinks, thanking you, but you pulled your arm back. “Go get your own! These are both mine!”

“You fucking lush, give me one of those!” Suga chided, taking one of the glasses out of your hand as you both laughed.

“How long do we have before we have to get back in there?” you asked, pulling your feet up on the couch to face Suga.

He took a sip of his drink while checking the timer in his phone. “Fifteen minutes and 42 seconds.” It was then that Suga noticed he’d gotten a text from his best friend letting him know he was going to be a little later than expected on account of his job.

When the timer went off you both headed back into the kitchen and Suga was just about to take the veggies out of the oven when his doorbell rang, making him swear under his breath at the timing.

“You want me to get the door?” you offered.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all!”

Suga thanked you as you headed for the foyer. Smiling, you opened the door to find a handsome guy with brown shoulder-length hair towering over you, his girlfriend judging by the way they had their arms around each other, as well as another male who was closer to your height with a sharp grin on his face.

Before you could say anything the significantly shorter male spoke up. “Hey, you must be y/n!”

You answered in the affirmative and he introduced himself. “I’m Yuu, but everyone calls me Nishinoya. Or Nishi. Or Noya.”

“Nishi!” the taller guy said.

“The impatient giant here is Asahi,” Nishinoya continued, “and this is his girlfriend, (name).”

You all exchanged pleasantries as you made your way inside to join Suga, with whom hugs and fist bumps were shared.

“So the old team captain isn’t here yet, hm?” Asahi asked Suga.

The host shook his head. “He texted earlier and said he was gonna be a little late.”

Putting two and two together, you said, “Oh, right! Suga told me that you guys played volleyball together in high school?”

“Yeah, he was the team mom, always cheering us on and talking sense into us when we needed it,” Nishinoya said.

“Which was often,” the former vice-captain mumbled as he tipped his drink to his lips.

You ignored Suga’s smartass remark and spoke to Noya’s statement instead. “Sounds about right,” you teased, playfully poking Suga in the side as you helped him make drinks for everyone.

At Asahi’s request, you explained how you’d become friends with the host. Suga’s former teammates laughed and took turns telling you about his mischievous ways, especially in volleyball club. Asahi’s girlfriend was a little shy at first but she warmed up, laughing as the guys reminisced about their glory days.

“Okay, literally the only thing I know about volleyball is that you rotate and try to hit a ball over a net,” you confessed. “Like human ping pong.”

“Actually, tennis is more like ping pong,” Nishinoya pointed out. “Volleyball is way more badass than that!”

Just as you laughed at the former libero’s emphatic correction, another ring of the doorbell came. Suga answered it and less than a minute later a very loud voice came barreling down the short corridor. Nishinoya and Asahi looked at each other and no sooner than they flatly said “Ryu”, a slim guy with a buzzed head and sharp eyes appeared in the dining room with his hands in the air yelling, “The Tanakas are here! Let the party begin!” He was followed by his stunning wife, whose name you would soon learn was Akira.

“We come bearing booze!” she slurred, an already tipsy woman after your own heart. “Now which one of you beautiful people is going to help me bring this shit inside?”

“I will!” you exclaimed with a smile wide enough to light up the room as you shuffled towards her. “You can never have too much!”

“Great fucking minds!” Akira proclaimed, her face lighting up as well.

“There goes the damn neighborhood!” Suga shouted as the two of you frolicked out the door while introducing yourselves.

Having Nishinoya and Ryu in the same room tripled the noise volume but everyone was nearly in tears now that another former Karasuno volleyball player was in on the storytelling, especially with his riotous wife’s witty commentary.

Not long after they arrived, a fresh round of drinks were being poured when the doorbell rang yet again. You shooed Suga back to the kitchen, oblivious to his half-hearted attempt to beat you to it in the first place.

You were laughing at Akira’s rendition of her husband’s latest knucklehead moment. But you fell silent when you swung the door open to find a pair of big brown eyes, warm like melted chocolate, looking back into yours. A lifetime of conversations seemed to pass between you in a matter of seconds.

Whoever he was stood there in his grey pullover and dark khaki cargo pants looking finer than a man should be allowed to. His energy enveloped you along with his scent as a perfectly timed breeze flowed in behind him.

“Uh, hi. Can I come in? It’s kinda cold out here.”

“Oh.” You stepped aside. “O-of course! I’m so sorry.”

His voice was deep and rich with an understated commanding tone, one that you surmised would sound particularly sexy murmuring sweet nothings and dirty thoughts in your ear.

His crooked, boyish grin reached his milk chocolate eyes. “It’s fine. Don’t mind,” he said as he stepped in beside you. He closed the door behind himself and took his shoes off.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Daichi,” he said, extending his hand.

You slid your hand into his, warm and strong, and replied, “Pleased to meet you, Daichi. I’m y/n.”

Suga had been secretly spying on you from the kitchen, leaning against the countertop while laughing with the unassuming Ryu and Nishinoya at the appropriate moments. Now he watched with quiet delight as you and Daichi walked in from the foyer together. He was right - the two of you would make a sickeningly cute couple, and for a moment he had a vision of you walking down the aisle together.

“Daichi!” Suga called out when his best friend looked at him, pretending he hadn’t noticed him before. The other former Karasuno team members all greeted him with shoulder punches and man hugs.

Of course, Ryu couldn’t help but give his former team captain a little grief. “Took you long enough, man. Even I beat you here!”

“Only because Akira here probably lit a fire under your ass!” Daichi jeered as he side-hugged the nodding female in question.

“And what a sweet ass it is,” she quipped, reaching over to pinch her husband’s butt.

Suga approached Daichi, smiling before punching him in the chest. “Good to see you, bro!”

Daichi clutched his chest and coughed. “Sorry, man, got a DV call from dispatch right before the end of my shift. By the time I got done with all the paperwork, I was running an hour behind.”

You knew all too well what ‘DV’ meant, putting everything together rather quickly.

“Oh…” You felt a riptide within you; one that drew you closer to Daichi, but at the same time pulled you away. “You’re Suga’s cop friend!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daichi answered in his smooth, silky voice with a crooked grin.

Oh, gods help you. You were at once smitten and repelled by him. Smitten because of who he was; repelled because of what he did for a living. The commanding presence made sense now.

“Oh, right! You two haven’t been introduced yet!” Suga exclaimed, the sneaky bastard feigning ignorance. “Y/n, this is Daichi. He’s been my best friend since high school,” he said before turning to said best friend. “Daichi, this is y/n. We’ve only known each other for a couple months, but she’s basically me with a vagina!” This earned him a playful slap to the chest, though he wasn’t wrong.

The laughter in the next room reached a new, raucous height and Suga’s name was called. He looked between you and Daichi and said, “Excuse me while I go tend to the children.” He shuffled away, leaving you and Daichi alone together.

“Do you drink? I’ll get something for you,” you offered.

There was that boyish smile again, making you curse inwardly at the way your heart leapt every time he looked at you.

“No, thank you, ma’am. I’ll get it myself,” he said, moving around the kitchen like he knew it by heart. He went right to the place where Suga kept his drinking glasses, taking one out and placing it on the countertop before turning to the liquor cabinet. “Suga said you helped him with all the cooking and everything. Why don’t you go take a seat and relax?” He flashed you another crooked grin.

“Yeah, y/n, Daichi spends so much time here, he’s even got his own private whiskey stash,” Suga added, sauntering into the kitchen again.

“And by stash he means one bottle,” the dark-haired male said as he poured two fingers neat.

You were snickering at their brotherly banter when Nishinoya called out for you. “Come check this out! Ryu’s got some old team pictures on his phone!”

“Oooh! I have to see this!” you said, scurrying into the dining room where the former Karasuno wing spiker’s phone was being passed around.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Suga almost laughed at the way his best friend sidled up to him, drink in hand, and murmured, “Suga, you dog! A couple of months? You’ve been holding out on me!”

“She’s not my date,” Suga said smugly. “We’re just friends.”

Daichi gave Suga a look of deep concern. “Why? She’s fucking gorgeous!”

“Believe me, we tried.”

Daichi narrowed his eyes at his friend. “What do you mean you tried?” He wasn’t too keen on the idea of having his best friend’s sloppy seconds.

“We kissed once just to see if we could be more than friends, but no. Just…no. Seriously, we’re just too much alike.”

Daichi blinked. “Y-you mean…? Is she single?”

Suga’s smug grin persisted when he closed his eyes and nodded his head. “She sure is. You like her?”

Daichi watched and admired your beauty as you laughed and aww’ed at the pictures from their high school volleyball days.

Suga slapped him on the back as he pushed off the counter. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

From the photos you could tell that, even when he was 17, Daichi looked like an adult. So did Asahi for that matter. But even then Daichi had an aura about him that said he was in charge. And Suga was so stinking cute you almost cried. They hadn’t changed much in the 10 years since.

During dinner you sat across from Daichi, who made eye contact with you several times, especially when you laughed. The guys took turns telling you about their respective positions back at Karasuno, but Daichi was the one who took the most time to explain the game mechanics to you. To most people, that would probably be boring, but Daichi had a way of making it interesting. The fact that he was so handsome didn’t hurt, especially when you focused on his lips as they moved. Even his former teammates, who knew the game all too well, got sucked into their former leader’s easy-to-understand but also very accurate way of explaining the game of volleyball, occasionally chiming in to drive a point home or tell another story.

After everyone had finished eating, you all sat around the table and talked for a while before the Tanakas announced their departure. Nishinoya, Asahi, and his partner left not too long afterwards.

And then there were three.

You and Daichi insisted on helping Suga with the clean-up, which didn’t take very long with all of you tag-teaming tasks. You chatted with them for a few more minutes, but it was getting late.

“Well, guys, it’s been real and it’s been fun, but I gotta get back home. I’m wiped out,” you said, dragging the back of your hand across your forehead.

“Y/n, thank you so much for helping. I couldn’t have done all this without you,” Suga said, hugging you.

Hugging him back, you smiled and said, “You’re so welcome, Suga. It’s been my pleasure.”

With his arms crossed over his wide chest, Daichi lifted his chin at you and said, “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

You opened your mouth, but your grey-haired friend jumped in with suspicious enthusiasm. “She’s been drinking since 6:20!”

You gawked at Suga, a satisfied grin plastered across his smarmy face. “Did you just tattle-tell on me?”

Daichi looked from Suga to you, pursed his lips, and raised his eyebrows. “You don’t need to drive. You can either stay here with Suga or I’ll give you a ride home tonight.” You pouted and Daichi shrugged. “Or I can take you to the drunk tank.”

“You know what, the drunk tank sounds like fun, why don’t you take me there?” you said, smiling.

Daichi chuckled. “I think you’ve had enough fun for one night. I’d rather take you home.” He caught himself right after he’d got the words out, Suga already snickering. “I meant like ‘make sure you make it home okay’. Pervert,” he said, ribbing Suga.

Your laugh lingered on your lips when you offered your wrists to him and said, “Well, since you put it that way, Officer Sawamura,” making his soft cock twitch in his pants and his cheeks tinge with pink.

Embarrassed a little he scratched the back of his head while looking away. “I don’t think handcuffs are going to be necessary. I don’t have them on me anyway.”

“What if I resist arrest? How would you restrain me?”

Suga was an absolute mess on the inside, trying to keep it together. You and Daichi were so pleasantly lost in banter that neither of you noticed when he strategically walked away to pretend to dry dishes.

The dark-haired police officer smirked and said, “I…really shouldn’t answer that. I plead the fifth.”

Now your cheeks became visibly warm. “Then how about you show me instead?”

Suga nearly choked on his spit, but kept his back turned as he dried the same plate he’d been drying for two minutes straight.

Daichi’s smirk spread into a full grin as he shook his head, laughing quietly. Leaning with his back against the countertop he gestured with his hand and said, “Sure.”

Your heart skipped a million beats.

“Turn around and walk away from me,” he commanded, nodding to indicate the direction.

You smiled and did as he said. Your right foot had barely lifted to take your first step when Daichi looped his strong hands around your wrists, one then the other. It didn’t take much force for him to cross your arms behind your back and hold them together with one hand while he stood so close behind you that his chest rubbed your shoulder.

You gasped. “Wowww…That was fast!” You looked over your shoulder at him. “But what if I struggle?”

“Go ahead,” he dared, the heat of his breath caressing your ear.

Suga cleared his throat dramatically. “Do I need to give you two some privacy?” he said, grinning his most mischievous grin.

Daichi let go of you and straightened up as if he’d forgotten Suga was even there. Damn, you were getting to him.

“Alright,” Daichi said, “let’s get going. You ready?”

You nodded and followed him to the door, stopping in the foyer to put your shoes on. Daichi opened the door for you as you waved goodbye to your friend and walked outside. When Daichi turned around to close the door, Suga winked at him while making a lewd gesture, earning him a death stare from his long-time friend.

ch. 1 ☆ ch. 3

31 days of daichi mlist | main daichi mlist | haikyuu mlist

☆ taglist: @chaoskrakenuwu @yuujispinkhair @luvkun4 @briokayama @mrs-sawamura @heroesfan101 @lanaxians-2 @darthferbert @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @cookiesandmilksx @strawberrystepmom @maexc @little-ms-awkward @samkysnks @anejuuuuoy @productivity-blogs ++ get added

[bettathanyou]

Thinking of @shychick-52's headcanon that Roland and Cedric would play chess together alot. Thought of the episode where Roland sabotages his games for the tri kingdom meet up or whatever, just to try and be a good sport. Now I'm thinking of this scene I made up in my head forever and ever.

Checkmate, A Cedric/Roland (Platonic!) Drabble

"...You really think I don't know when you're taking it easy on me?" Cedric asks, with a barely composed sigh of frustration.

The sorcerer had won the last three games in a row, and never in all of knowing Roland was Cedric ever able to win a perfect streak of games against him.

That's not to say that Cedric wasn't skilled at chess- he was damn good at it, and Wormwood had since stopped playing with him due to the inevitability of his defeat. The bird was a sore loser, almost as much as Cedric was- which made Roland's irritatingly good intentions to spare his feelings all the more upsetting.

Cedric's frown deepens, his mahogany eyes cutting into Roland's own.

Roland can only smirk in response, his eyes twinkling with a mischief that dates back to when they were boys.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to, old friend." He shrugged, scratching his neck, a clear tell that the king was lying.

Some things never change, Cedric thought to himself as he rolls his eyes, waving his gloved hand dramatically in dismissal.

"You realize I know when you're lying, too, right?" He retorted dryly, but a smile was pulling at his cheeks all the same.

Roland smiles in return, somewhat sheepishly, looking away for a moment. Then, he turns back to Cedric, grabbing his knight with a finger and thumb.

"Well, all I can say to that, is..." Roland drew out, swiftly taking Cedric's rook from its protective position in front of the king piece.

"Check."

Roland's eyes flick up to Cedric in a satisfied grin, with all the smugness of a royal and the playfulness of a child.

Cedric sputters in disbelief, as well as embarrassment, for letting such carelessness put himself into check with one move. He felt his face flush, in turn making the lanky sorcerer fold into himself to desperately try and hide it.

Just like when we were kids, Roland mused to himself, rolling his eyes teasingly.

Roland laughs at the thought, but not out of mockery. It was a laugh of joy, reminding him of when the world seemed a little more brighter, and the weight of a kingdom didn't rest on his shoulders just yet.

Cedric, however, promptly rebuked Roland with a passionate "Bugger off!", which made Roland laugh harder.

After a beat, Cedric joined in. Roland's laughter was irritatingly infectious, even after all those years. After their laughter died down, Roland looked at Cedric for a moment; his friend, and brother in everything except blood.

"Some things never change, Cedric." Roland speaks with a nostalgic sigh, looking down at the chess board in front of the pair with a lopsided smirk.

Cedric glares at him, but his face softens shortly after. After a few moments, he straightens with a resigned huff of indignation.

"Perhaps not."

Roland gently swats at Cedric's leg with his foot beneath the table, promptly snapping the sorcerer out of his pouting.

Cedric looked at him, slightly frazzled by the friendly gesture.

"...Best three out of four?" The royal offers with a tilt of his head, making his crown lean slightly off center from his brow.

A smile, small but bright and eager, flickered across Cedric's features. No matter how often he was defeated, the sorcerer had a blazing tenacity that never allowed him to back down from a challenge. In stubbornness alone, Cedric and Roland were equally matched.

Roland admired that about him, although he never really voiced it much before. It's why playing chess with him was so fun at all- he always put his best foot forward, even if his reckless and overly ambitious moves were what always damned him in the end.

"You're on!" Cedric exclaimed fiercely, grabbing his wand from within the purple stained sleeve of his robe. Fishing it out, he poised it above his head, about to reset the board.

"And this time, don't hold back- it's quite insulting." Cedric holds Roland's gaze with a pointed look, and the king nods solemnly.

"Of course- you have my word, Cedric."

"Thank you."

"Although, I think that last play you made was somehow more offensive..." Roland bites a laugh, his words full of warmth and good natured teasing.

Cedric clicked his tongue in reply, resetting the pieces with a flick of the wrist.

"And yet, I'm still the only person you go out of your way to play against."

Roland barks out a laugh, shaking his head.

"You checkmated me there, friend."

@fantadym @omgselinabeckendorf

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

ttwt episode 11

“Last time, on Total Takes World Tour: Hollywood, baby! Home of the stars- which the not-so-starry-eyed Total Takes teens are still trying to reach by putting themselves through weeks of reality TV TORTURE! Staci’s lack of leader experience finally caught up to her, sending Team Friendship into bonafide silver-screen peril- much to the team’s annoyance. Julia’s Mal-nipulation forced Ass and Courtney closer- maybe a little too close for the fandom-obsessed blogger, who’s had eyes on the entire chess board since day one. In the end, it was Team Friendship who took the fall and sent their ex-leader packing. Will anyone be able to pull it together? What will become of Team Friendship without the liver of their group? Find out now, on Total Takes: World Tour!”

The air is crisp and cool, the small patch of sunlight filtering through the single window is warm and inviting, and there’s a sense of peace in the economy air today. 

Max, looking better rested than ever, yawns and opens his eyes. He shrieks and curls back into the metal wall when he sees the entire team crowded around him. 

“Were you watching me sleep?” 

Bonnie takes a seat next to him. “We were waiting for you to wake up,”

“And that’s different how…?”

“Never mind. What’s the game plan?” they ask, rubbing their eyes. Bonnie scans him over for a brief moment and then cocks an eyebrow. “Sleep well?”

---

MAX: “Okay, yes, Staci’s tyrannical pre-school torture methods put a lot on my plate. But her being gone doesn’t mean my troubles are over. Team Mojo is safe for now, but if they lose…” he pauses to shiver. “Chel is next. I can’t let that happen.”

---

Julia steps out of the confessional toilet, whistling and wiping off her hands on her jorts. She walks back into first class and scans the seats, choosing the one next to Mal. 

“Where’s Courtney?”

Mal shrugs. “Haven’t checked yet,”

“What?”

“Hm?”

The conversation dies off quickly after, with Mal returning to her phone and Julia staring out the window absent-mindedly, muttering to herself. 

Ass- seemingly asleep in the corner of the cabin- opens an eye to check the two and then quickly returns to their faux-slumber. 

---

COURTNEY: “What was I thinking? That… that thing put the whole team in jeopardy! If we’re bad when we’re fighting, then I can’t even imagine what would happen when we like each other. I’m usually pretty level-headed, I just… something’s been messing with me,”

---

ASS: “Why do these things always happen to me? Why me?”

---

Mal begins to snicker at her phone and Ass finally sighs, rising from their seat and walking out of the cabin. Julia shouts something about a team plan, and she is ignored. 

“Idiot,” Ass grumbles, looking back at the first class door as they walk down to the confessionals. 

They stop with an oof as they collide with something, and then promptly turn beet red. 

“Oh!” Courtney says, eyes wide. They wring their hands. “Crap, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Ass crosses their arms. “You’re avoiding me,”

“What? Nooo, I mean…” they finally sigh. “Okay, yes, but in all fairness, look at us!”

Ass thinks for a moment, glaring- and then they sigh. Their shoulders slump. “Let’s not talk about that, okay? We’ve got enough to deal with.”

Courtney breathes a sigh of relief. “Agreed. Let’s just go back to normal,”

They force a smile at each other, and then look away. 

“Okay, let’s just… maybe we need a little time apart to think,” Courtney offers, scratching their chin while they try to think rationally. “One thing’s for sure-”

“-Julia and Mal can’t know,” Ass nods. “They’ll both cry alliance, and knowing Mal…”

“She’ll throw the challenge, get Julia on her side, and one of us is toast,”

They both nod, and then squeeze past each other in the cramped hallway. 

---

MAL: “Well, well, well…” she murmurs, smiling widely while watching her phone screen. “Ass and Courtney think they’re sooo smart. Hah! The only thing they are is lucky I’m so merciful and, well… bored. Let’s see where this goes, shall we?”

---

“Attention, passengers! Meet me down in the galley in five for the deets on your next challenge!” Chris’ voice chimes merrily over the intercom. 

Julia sighs. “Any idea where we’re going?” no response. “Mal? Helloooo? Earth to nutcase?”

Mal seems to snap out of her trance and quickly sets her phone aside. “Um… no, no storage space. If I had to guess… Mediterranean, somewhere… old and hot,”

“That really narrows it down,” Julia grumbles, standing with a sigh. “Come on, let’s go.”

---

The teams- or what remains of them- huddle around Chris in the galley as he adjusts a golden wreath on his head. He’s dressed in a white tunic, a complimentary pair of brown sandals accentuating his calves (which he has pointed out more than once since the teens arrived). 

“Get ready for some good old fashioned battle, cause we’re heading to the Colosseum- home of the most famous gladiator battles in history!” he grins. “As per my attire, we’re heading to-”

Mal clears her throat. “If I may, Chris, you’re wearing a Grecian tunic, not a Roman toga,” 

Julia rolls her eyes. The other teams give her odd looks. 

“Um, duh. Don’t my calves look killer in it? Ahem, anyway- like our previous cast, we’ll be heading to Athens, Greece!”

“As much as I hate to say it, the stalker here has a point. The Colosseum is in Rome,” Max states, matter-of-factly. “You must be thinking of the Parthenon.”

“What?” Chris asks. He snaps his fingers and two interns rush over with a stack of production notes. He leafs through them and then sighs. “HOW does this keep happening?! CHEF!”

The host storms off, leaving ten confused teens behind. They look at each other for a moment before the plane suddenly lurches, turning a complete 180 and heading in the direction they came. The contestants scream as they’re thrown around the galley. 

---

“Welcome to Rome, Italy!” Chris says as the teens file out of the plane, limping their sore and bruised bodies outside. “Home of pizza, pasta, spicy meatball…”

Max rolls his eyes. 

“...And some other stuff, I’m sure,”

“Aqueducts, roads, Latin…” Mal counts on her fingers as Team Yaoi watches her, perplexed. “Roman numerals, which we still use, newspapers…”

Julia leans into Courtney, whispering harshly. “Did I get hit over the head with something?” The pink-haired teen shrugs and steps away from the blonde, accidentally bumping into Ass. The two share an awkward smile and back away from each other. 

From a few feet away, Albert squints. 

---

ALBERT: “Normally, I’d ignore trivial little human dramas like that, since they’re completely pointless in the grand scheme of the universe, but… Well, Michela said it herself: if we want to win, which I guess I do, since there’s nothing else left for me, we’re going to have to start taking advantage of the other team’s weaknesses,”

---

“Sanitation, early surgical tools, and the Vatican is here!” she finishes. Chris blinks. 

“...Right. Anyway, today’s challenge will be a two-parter. Since all the teams now have an even number of players, half of each will be participating in a traditional Italian cook-off, overseen by Judge Chef! The others will be competing in a Roman gladiator tournament, overseen by yours truly,” he chuckles. “Normally, I’d let you guys sort out amongst yourselves, but today I thought I’d arrange the duos for you. For the cook-off, we have Max and Kelly, Michela, and Mal and Julia. For the tournament, Ass and Courtney, Albert, and Bonnie and Phillip.”

Ass and Courtney look between each other nervously. 

Michela’s hand shoots in the air. “But we only have one on each side, isn’t that an unfair advantage for the other-”

“ZIP IT!” Chris says. “Best meal on the cook-off side wins a point, and same for the last gladiator standing. Whichever team doesn't score anything... I'll be seeing tonight. Ciao!”

He sits back as the teams divulge. Courtney and Ass give the rest of Team Yaoi nervous glances before wandering off, much to Albert’s curiosity. 

---

ALBERT: “Life is painful and chaotic, yes, but there’s always some underlying patterns to the apparent cruel randomness. For example, Courtney and Ass’ behavior may seem completely out of character and odd, but there has to be some common reason they’re avoiding each other…”

---

“What’re you looking at?” Michela asks, tying her hair back into a tight bun and pulling a hairnet over her head. 

Albert turns back to her. “Nothing. I’ll see you after this challenge,”

“Don’t get yourself killed!” she waves. 

“Same to you,”

---

The inside of the Colosseum is sweltering, and everyone stuck inside is already sweating and fanning their faces under the heat of the sun. 

Chris distributes a sword and helmet to each person. “Now, back in the day, all Gladiator battles were to the death- luckily for you, our lawyers say that would be “cruel” and “inhumane”,”

The teens breathe a sigh of relief. Courtney weighs the sword in their hands. “Is this real?”

“Sure is. Just because you can’t kill each other doesn’t mean serious injury is out of the question! Let’s just try to avoid severing anything,” he chuckles. “Oh, and in traditional Roman fashion- we’ll be throwing in a few… surprises.”

Bonnie grumbles. “I wish Max were here. I don’t know anything about this Roman stuff,”

“Don’t worry!” Phillip says, swinging around his sword with glee. “I’ll protect you! I was made for the battlefield!”

---

PHILLIP: “Finally, this is my chance- I’m fulfilling my destiny, this has to be it! I have to prove my sigma status and kill a man,”

---

He spins in a circle and the sword’s weight pulls him to the ground with a shriek. Bonnie grumbles and shakes their head. 

A distant air horn sounds and the metal gates to the only exit close, the sound of scraping metal forcing everyone to cover their ears. 

“Okay, okay… we need some kind of plan,” Bonnie thinks aloud, watching as the other contestants look between each other awkwardly. “If we play defense, then we can- Phillip? Phillip?”

They look around them as a thick fog rolls over the arena. Phillip is nowhere to be found. “Oh, great,” 

---

“I can’t see anything,” Ass says, attempting to wave the fog away with their arm. 

Courtney’s head whirls around at the sound of a footstep, and they sigh as a mere pigeon hops through the dense mist. “We need to watch each other’s backs. We’re completely vulnerable like this,”

“What does that mean?”

They sigh again, then begrudgingly go on. “Follow my lead, and try to keep the complaining to a minimum!”

Ass opens their mouth to rebuke but then concedes, hanging limply like a doll for Courtney to arrange into a battle pose. 

Instead, they stand back-to-back with Ass, linking their free arms together. Ass hisses, ears turning slightly red. 

“I know, I know. But look- we can see in all directions, and we won’t get lost,” Courtney responds, leering over their shoulder to look at their partner-in-crime. “Let’s just get through this, and then we can go back to normal.”

Through the thick fog, Albert listens in on their conversation, treading lightly to avoid catching their attention in the mist. 

Ass grumbles. “Call me a cynic, but the only “normal” thing we can go back to is trying to kill each other,”

“Don’t get any ideas,”

A distant roar from across the arena catches both of their attention and they go pale, eyes widening. Another roar comes from their far rights, followed by what sounds like a young girl throwing a tantrum. 

“eeeeeEEEEEEEE! BONNIE! HELP!”

“Phillip? Where are you?”

“LIONS!”

Courtney and Ass look at each other and pale just as a large wildcat springs forward. They duck in sync and it goes flying overhead, disappearing into the fog. 

“EEEEEEEEEE! ANOTHER ONE! BONNIE!”

The two stare in the direction of the cries and then quickly pull out their weapons. 

Courtney turns to Ass. “Is this normal enough for you?”

A faint ding sounds and the two groan. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ass sings. “I’m thinking it too!”

Courtney follows. “I have no idea what you’re thinking, so maybe that’s true,”

“I don’t know what happened,” They continue. “But I have no regrets.”

“Wait, seriously?” they raise a pierced eyebrow. “Was that sarcasm, or... do you mean that?”

Albert cups his ear and leans closer to their voices, pursing his lips as they continue to sing just out of earshot. 

“Oh, it’s just between us,” Ass continues. 

Courtney shakes their head. “We don’t wanna cause a fuss,”

“One impulse and we could be gone, but was that one kiss so wrooooong?”

Albert’s eyes widen and he stumbles over, the sword’s weight pulling him down through the fog. He lands on one of the lion’s tails and it yowls, standing and running off. 

“Fine! I’ll admit it!” Courtney sighs. “Even if it was dumb.”

“Disorientating, but,” Ass suddenly gasps and then points ahead. “Watch out for that lion!”

The two drop to the ground as the lion tramples over them, yowling in pain. It seems to collide with something off in the distance, and Phillip shrieks again. 

“EEEEEE! The pain, the pain! This was NOT my play!” he yells. Courtney and Ass wince. 

They peel themselves off the ground, black and blue, and sing in unison. “We’ve gotta stop what we’re doing, cause this is just INSANE!”

Through the mist, Bonnie squints. “I think the lions got him, which means we’ve been slain,”

They gasp as the large wildcat runs past them with Phillip between its jaws. Albert watches them from afar as the fog begins to clear, and he grins. “Thanks, my carnivore friend, I guess I win this game!” 

The fog finally clears out and reveals Albert as the last remaining player standing. 

---

ALBERT: “Random? Yes. Chaotic? Yes. Cruel?” he pauses to smile. “Absolutely. But I think I’m starting to find the pattern behind the disorder in this game. You don’t give up hope- you use everyone else’s hope against them.”

---

“And that’s a win for Team Mojo! Safe from elimination for another day,” Chris says, watching as the teens file out of the arena. Albert smiles. 

“Um,” Bonnie starts jabbing their thumb behind them. Phillip’s head is right between the jaws of a sleeping lion, relaxing in a sunbeam. “Is someone going to help him?”

“Eh, eventually. Probably. Maybe,” the host shrugs. “Time for part due of the challenge!”

---

“And here are your root vegetables. Clear?” Chef says, slamming a carrot down at a metal table in front of the remaining teams. 

They sigh. “Yes, Chef,”

The gladiator teens return, most limping. Bonnie looks from side to side. “Where are the dishes?”

Chef chuckles, gesturing to the ingredients on the table. “You’re looking at them,”

Max yawns and rubs his eyes. “Chris wanted to be here to watch, so we got a comprehensive history of vegetables,”

“I liked it!” Kelly says, clapping their hands. 

“DON’T BE A KISSUP!” Chef shouts, slamming a cleaver down on the table and severing a cutting board in half. The teams go pale. 

“Hope that you’re all still in the spirit of cooking! Wouldn’t want anyone to get sleepy and cut off something important,” Chris chuckles, pulling out an air horn and blaring it. “Go!”

Julia yawns and stretches, lethargically turning to Mal. “Game plan?”

She, wide awake, slips her phone in her back pocket and flexes her wrists. She ties her hair back and pulls out a cutting board. “We’re doing Brodetto di pesce, a traditional fish stew found in Adriatic Italian towns,”

“God, how do you even know this stuff? Is there an Italian cooking anime I missed?”

Mal rolls her eyes. “First of all, you shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain. Secondly, there are a lot of cooking animes, poser,” she pulls out a mixing bowl and a few knives, running her finger on each blade as if testing their individual sharpness. “And for your information, I was reading up on history and culture to impress a boy, something you wouldn't understand.”

“A real one?” Julia asks, eyes drifting down to the array of printed-out anime characters sealed away in her phone case. 

“That’s none of your business,” Mal announces casually, handing her a list. “Go get these things from the pantry. FAST!”

Julia swipes the paper and storms off, grumbling. 

---

“Pancakes? Waffles? Ooh, I know- let’s do crepes!” Kelly beams, fanning themselves under the hot sun. 

Max returns to the table and sets an armful of ingredients down on its metal surface. “This is an Italian cooking challenge, genius. Let’s just do pasta and keep it simple,”

“Oh, I like pasta! That’s a great idea!”

Max grumbles. 

---

MAX: “They’re like a non-stop 24/7 ray of sunshine. It drives me insane,”

---

Michela smiles and shakes her head at the interaction from her table, then returns to mixing something doughy and soft in a large metal bowl. 

Albert watches her from the sidelines, ignoring the groaning and moaning of his battered castmates as they bandage wounds and hold up ice packs to their heads. 

Chef returns, dragging a barely conscious Phillip behind him. He hands him off to Bonnie, who sighs. 

---

ALBERT: “As much as I like Michela, I’m not sure I can trust her with this information yet. She’s… well, she’s soft. She’d probably try to argue that preying on someone’s emotional vulnerability is “wrong”...” he pauses to sigh. “I just have to play my cards right here…”

---

“One hour left, maggots!” Chef yells, then chuckles to himself. “Man, I missed this.”

Max strains to churn the gloopy dough out of the pasta maker, grumbling to himself about the mechanics. Kelly is busy cutting stars out of the leftover dough, holding them up and showing them to Bonnie across the pavilion. 

Bonnie forces a smile and thumbs up at each one, and then sighs. “This social obligation thing is exhausting,”

“Tell me about it,” Albert mutters. 

---

Julia squints at the sidelines from their table, grumbling to herself. Ass and Courtney are talking merrily, laughing slightly at each other’s remarks. 

She turns back to Mal, who’s busy dumping wine in the pot. “Is there something… off about those two?”

“Hm?” she asks, corking the bottle and shoving the whole thing in her back pocket for later. “Who, Assney?”

Julia sighs. “Yeah, whatever,” she rubs her chin. “They seem… weird, right?”

“Uhhhh… do you think this needs more spices?” Mal says, shoving a spoonful of stew in Julia’s mouth. She sputters. 

---

MAL: “For now, I have no reason to single out Assney! I mean, yes, if we lose, they can ally themselves and vote me off- but also… the fact that I can blackmail them, make them anxious and uneasy…” she grins. “Too good to pass up.”

---

“Okay, this thing is broken,” Max sighs, staring at the clumpy mess of dough the machine spit out. Kelly giggles at the stars they cut out. “It’d be nice if someone was HELPING!”

Kelly ignores him. He stares at Bonnie for help, and they shrug. 

“We’re done for,” he sighs, shoving the pasta maker away. “There’s no way we can…” his eyes drift down to the flat, shaped dough Kelly has been cutting out. “Wait right here. I need some ricotta.”

Max stands and runs off. 

---

“FIVE! Four! Three! Two! And ONE, MAGGOTS!” Chris shouts through his megaphone, feedback forcing everyone on the sidelines to cover their ears. 

The host stands and sits down next to Chef at the judge’s table. 

“Let’s taste-test some yummy authentic cuisine,” he chuckles, rubbing his hands together. “First up… Michela!”

Michela stands and sets a plate of pastries in front of the judges. “Cannoli,”

“Ooh, a classic,” The two take a moment to savor the treats. Michela sucks in her breath and says a quick prayer. Albert rolls his eyes. 

“Hmm… passable. Six out of ten.” Chef says. She breathes a sigh of relief and walks off, joining her last remaining teammate on the sidelines. 

“Team Friendship! Front and center!”

Max and Kelly speed over with a tray of star-shaped ravioli, setting one plate on either side of Chris and Chef. 

The two enjoy the pasta, the latter of which clearing his throat to give a rating. “Taste is good, but the shape is… uh,” he stares at the stars. “American. Negative points for Americana! 5/10!”

Max smacks his forehead and Kelly opens their mouth to argue, but they’re dragged back to the sidelines before they can intervene. 

“Last, but not least… Team Yaoi!”

Mal smiles, bringing over the steaming pot. “Brodetto di pesce with red wine,” she says curtly, setting the dish before them. 

The two grin and spoon from the pot. Chef smacks the stew around his mouth for a few moments before giving a thumbs up. 

“Delicious, authentic, and a unique choice. 10/10,” 

Julia cheers, and Ass and Courtney breathe an equal sigh of relief from the sidelines. 

Chris beams. “Team Friendship, you’re the only team with no points- which means you would be going to the elimination ceremony tonight… if this wasn’t a reward episode!”

“WHAT!” Team Yaoi shouts in unison. 

Max sighs and relaxes, unclenching his jaw for the first time all day. Bonnie pats his shoulder. 

“Team Yaoi and Team Mojo will be sharing first class accommodations and a catered, three-course Italian meal. Hope you all enjoy!” He chuckles, walking off. 

---

Julia’s arms are tightly crossed and her knees are tucked tightly to her chest as she glares at Team Mojo from across the cabin. The aforementioned, on the other hand, are merrily enjoying two ice-cold Italian limonatas together, chatting about the day’s events. 

“Man, I could get used to this,” Michela grins. Her eyes drift over to Julia. “Even with the company. Lighten up over there!”

Julia grimaces. 

---

JULIA: “We might as well have lost- tying is basically losing, anyway, and having the extra company is not my favorite thing in the world. I need Mal to start taking orders again, and fast,”

---

Albert stands. “I’m going to get another drink. Want anything?”

“I’m good!” Michela shrugs, settling back in the plush seat. “I think I’m gonna try to get some sleep. Make sure Goldilocks over there doesn’t suffocate me.”

“Will do,”

Albert walks through the cabin, entering the dining room to the sounds of two voices laughing. He raises an eyebrow and a slight smile crosses his face. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asks (though it’s not much of a request), pulling up a chair to Ass and Courtney. They shrug. “You know, I have to say- I really admire your team.” he goes on. “You all work together so well.”

Ass scoffs. “I don’t know if-”

“I wasn’t finished,” he says calmly, but coldly. Ass quiets down, a sudden look of curiosity crossing their face. “My team, well… we were as divided as you can imagine before Patrick left. But you four have always had a good dynamic, like a healthy aquatic ecosystem. Everyone does their part, right?”

He pauses to chuckle, then clears his throat. 

“I’m sure you can attribute your consistent success to your cooperation. It’d be terrible for something to happen that’d divide your team,” 

A long silence follows. Then, Courtney raises an eyebrow. “What are you getting at?”

“I’m just complimenting your work structure,” he shrugs. “If my former coalition had worked as well, I wouldn’t be here right now. But I am, anyway.” 

Albert stands and leaves the dining room. From around the corner, Mal glares. 

---

MAL: “How would he… hm. Maybe I should reconsider the placement of my pawns on this one,”

---

Mal walks back into the main cabin and sits next to Julia, who’s still wrapped up in glaring daggers at Michela and Albert. 

The blonde huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. Nonetheless, she still addresses the new presence. “Where have you been?”

“I was getting pics of Chris’ private quarters to auction, duh,” Mal scoffs. “I even snagged his toothbrush, wanna see?”

“Ugh, save it,” she grumbles. “I’m not gonna get a wink of sleep with those two around…”

“I’m sure they won’t bother you in the dining room? They’re just eating,”

“What? I meant Team Mojo,”

She looks away. “That’s… also what I meant. I um… didn’t see them come back,”

“Whatever,” Julia rolls her eyes, muttering “ditz” under her breath. 

After a few moments, Mal stands, brushing herself off. “I’ll be in the cargo hold on Twitch. Don't bother me!” And then she disappears from the cabin. 

Michela watches her leave, then turns back and raises an eyebrow. “What’s that for?”

“She says she gets better WiFi in the cargo hold,” Julia sighs, vaguely gesturing. “Don’t ask me about why she needs that…”

“But wouldn’t-” Albert starts, and then sits back. “Never mind.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. The girl’s a class-A nutcase,” the blonde says, sitting and stretching. “Without that phone, she’d be as useful as a bike with no wheels.”

Albert and Michela make confused eye contact, and then glance away.

[greatideas-badwriter]

Worth The Risk: Chapter 1

AN: Sometimes, when reading fanfiction, I'll cringe a little when things get overly dramatic. Now that I'm writing my own, though, I'm like, "F*CK IT BRING ON THE EXCITEMENT! Ha!"

(but really, though, I'll try to reign it in and not write a damn telenovela LOL)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy Chapter One and leave lots of reviews/comments because it makes me feel good! *shameless*

Thanks!

The group of people around Sakura suddenly gasped and became quiet as she stood there, a wine glass upside down in her hand. She'd dumped its contents on the head of an unbelievably handsome man with black hair and even blacker eyes, though they were currently burning with the wildfire of rage.

When she did it, every part of her was irritated and offended, severely clouding her judgment. That said, this man had spent the past three hours tormenting the poor woman and in front of all his buddies, no less.

So when the angry fog in Sakura's mind began to clear, she didn't let the man's intimidating demeanor get to her and venomously spat, "I've never met someone so full of himself in my life. Maybe other women put up with this kind of treatment, but I refuse."

The black-haired man unfroze, lifting a brow while obviously struggling not to lose his temper. He snatched her wrist and squeezed it tightly enough that it wasn't possible to pull away, "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

Sakura swallowed her swiftly rising terror, attempting to free herself and failing, "You owe me an apology," she paused, anxiously glancing over to see Ino hurrying toward the manager's office, "…Right now."

Other patrons were beginning to gather around in the crowded Oasis bar, hushed chatter barely being masked by the loud music.

The man stood, towering over the slender woman with an aura of danger. Glaring down his nose at her, he pulled her closer by her arm, leaning in to hold her gaze, "You're going to regret what you just did."

-Five Days Prior/Monday Afternoon-

"You're new here, right? I don't recognize you." A drop-dead-gorgeous blonde woman approached a stunned Sakura Haruno. She came to sit beside her at the furthest back desk in the classroom, "I'm Ino Yamanaka. Let's get along well!"

'Is it really that easy? I haven't said a single word, and this pretty girl wants to be friends,' the awkward girl thought while nodding. "I'm Sakura. It's nice to meet you, and yes, I am new."

Ino grinned, flashing pearly white teeth while offering her phone, "Here, put your number in. Where are you from? I assume you've just moved to Oto since it's the middle of the school year."

Throughout Sakura's entire school career, from elementary to the college she's attended thus far, meeting and befriending new people has been a challenge. In fact, all the friends she left behind in Konoha only put up with her because they wanted to hang around her ex-boyfriend.

'Don't think about him. Give Ino your phone, too, or she'll think you don't want to be friends.'

"Here, put yours in mine, too!"

'God, it's obvious how fake my smile is. Get it together, Girl! If she finds out you're having a mini-panic attack, she'll realize you're a big loser.'

The twenty-one-year-old college student's social anxiety has always been a hindrance, but it's never been this debilitating. Maybe being in a strange new place with no familiar faces put her on edge, or perhaps it's fear that she will see someone she recognizes, someone she left Konoha to get away from.

"I'm from Konoha, originally. This is my first time leaving home, so if you have any pointers for surviving around here, I'd greatly appreciate it," she said while attempting to come off as calm, cool, and collected.

"No way! I was born in Konoha, but my parents moved us here before I was old enough to start school, so I don't remember it. Small world, huh?"

Class began as Sakura handed Ino's phone back, and Ino returned hers, as well. Throughout the two-hour lecture, the two girls learned a little more about one another. To the quieter one's relief, they hit it off quickly. The blonde woman was talkative and social, but she also didn't pressure the Haruno woman into responding more than she already did. It was nice and comfortable, a feeling the Konoha native hadn't experienced in years.

While leaving class, Ino asked, "By the way, you mentioned you're looking for a job. Do you want me to ask my boss if he'll hire you?"

"...Where do you work?" If the job required more than the average amount of small talk or grace, Sakura would be doomed to fail and embarrass her new friend.

"Oh, right! My bad. It's a bar on the east end of town called Oasis. I'm a waitress there. It's super easy. You just have to wear nice clothes and bring drinks to the tables. The pay is great, and you get lots of tips just for being cute, too!"

Though she was hesitant because a bar meant drunk people, drunk men in particular, Sakura nodded, "Sure. You'll text me, then?"

Ino gave her an incredulous look, "Oh, Honey, no. We're going to your place to get dressed, and I'm taking you to work with me tonight. My boss won't be able to say no once he sees you."

That's how Sakura Haruno ended up in a tight mini-skirt and a lowcut shirt, following her equally as scantily clad friend while being trained.

The moment the manager, a tall and bulky middle-aged man named Kakuzu, was introduced, he asked if she'd like a job there. When she pictured someone his age who hired college-aged women based on their appearance, she definitely didn't imagine a stone-faced, quiet man whose glare put a shiver up her spine.

'At least he's not some pervert who'd try to make a move on one of us. Well, I don't think he is, anyway.'

"If you're serving multiple people at once, you can use a tray like this one. I swear it's easier than it looks. Even if you end up dropping a few, it's not the end of the world," Ino spoke in honey-coated words while shooting a pale-skinned, dark-haired young man a wink and handing him a beer.

Sakura nodded with a tense smile, forcing herself to ignore the wandering gazes of the men in the area. Her blonde partner seemed to enjoy the attention. For the remainder of the night, she learned how the floor was divided into sections and worked on memorizing drink names and prices.

At two o'clock, the bar closed, and at two-thirty, Ino drove the woman back to her apartment, "Kakuzu said you'll get paid for tonight, too! Isn't that great? Now we can hang out at work."

The pink-haired one nodded and offered a tired grin, "Thank you for this again, Ino. You're a lifesaver."

Blue eyes winked at her as she got out of the little car and turned to wave goodbye. "Babe, I told you, it's no big deal. Want me to pick you up tomorrow, too? I don't mind carpooling. My dorm's nearby anyway."

After receiving confirmation, Ino pulled away from the curb, leaving Sakura to climb the steps up the side of the house where she was renting the top floor as an apartment. She was relieved she didn't have to go through the front door or the other tenant's home to get to hers.

She went inside, carefully looking out the door's window to ensure no one was secretly watching her before locking and deadbolting it. Once the thick curtain was in place, she turned around.

Her apartment was tiny but still looked bare because she could only bring her clothes, school supplies, and a few photos when leaving. With her saved-up money, she had just enough to buy a new bed and pay the deposit on this place. The landlord had some refurbished furniture delivered, saying it was just sitting in storage anyway, so there was also a nightstand, sofa, and a tiny dining table big enough for the two chairs that went with it.

Food would have to be scarce until she gets her first paycheck. Luckily, the college offers free lunches to all its students, so one meal a day was guaranteed every day except Sunday.

Sighing, Sakura trudged into the bathroom to shower, 'I just want to go to bed, but I don't want to get the sheets all dirty. I've been sweating in a bar for hours.' That's what she thought, but once she was under the hot water, all negative emotions on the act disappeared.

Laying in bed half an hour later, Sakura rested a hand on her stomach and stared at the ceiling while awaiting sleep to take over.

'Living alone in a new place is terrifying, but I prefer this to what's waiting for me back home.'

Rather than let her mind dwell on the nightmare fuel that was the past four years of her life, she forced her thoughts to focus on her new friend and job. 'I hope everything isn't as too good to be true as it feels. I need this to work out.'

If the pinkette loses this job and doesn't manage to find a new one ASAP, she'll be evicted from her apartment for not having rent. It's due in about four weeks. With that concern in mind, she drifted off to sleep.

-The Day "It" Happened-

Sakura felt as close to her true self as she had in years. Ino introduced her to another one of her friends, who also happened to work at Oasis. She was a sarcastic, short-tempered, yet still nice girl named Karin with blood-red hair and pretty dark eyes behind black cat-eye glasses.

Speaking of Oasis, she quickly got the hang of things in the week and a half following her hire date. Regular customers were beginning to recognize and call her by name; it no longer made her nervous to receive and deliver orders, and she'd even come to enjoy speaking to the more respectful patrons.

On this particular night, Saturday, the fourth waitress, a confident and beautiful woman named Guren, a couple of years older than the other three, called in sick. The fifth one, who wasn't scheduled to work, couldn't come in because she didn't have a babysitter for her little brother, who wasn't old enough to enter the bar. That meant Ino, Karin, and Sakura had to pick up the slack by taking turns with tables in Guren's section.

"We have a group coming in, Sakura. It's your turn," Ino chimed in while expertly powerwalking with a tray of beer glasses.

Karin piped up while also whizzing by to order a drink, "Be careful with those ones. They're pretty rowdy. Usually, Guren takes care of them."

'Oh, great. Just what I need. Troublemakers,' Sakura thought while turning to greet the group of customers in question, a smile plastered on her lips. Then, she froze in surprise.

Approaching were five men, each more beautiful than the next. Let's see, there was a quiet-looking one with long dark hair and stress lines under his eyes.

The next was taller and more muscular, with silver hair slicked back and a mischievous grin as he yelled across the bar to a woman who'd called out to him in greeting.

The following two talked to one another and seemed almost unaware that they were even in a bar. One was the shortest of the group with tan skin, red hair, and brown eyes, while the other had almost the exact same hair as Ino as well as eye color. He was so pretty that one might mistake him for a woman if it weren't for his athletic build and lower voice.

The one in the center, leading the group, had black hair, black eyes, and a smirk on his lips. His skin was clear and smooth looking, and it was evident he played some type of sport because attractive yet unimposing muscles were fighting the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt.

"Um, follow me, and I'll show you guys where to sit," Sakura managed to get out once they were close enough to hear.

A low whistle met her ears, making her tense up, and one of the guys remarked, "Looks like there's some new blood, huh? Hey, Sweetheart, go tell Guren Hidan's here."

The pinkette turned to gesture toward the den of seating large enough to appease their group and more should they have any friends arrive. She forced a smile once more, realizing it was the silver-haired one who'd called himself "Hidan" who'd spoken because he shamelessly checked her out, "Guren isn't here tonight, so you're stuck with me. Sorry!"

While the men took a seat, she nervously interlaced her fingers behind her back, "What can I get you? Anything with Gin in it is fifteen percent off tonight."

They ordered a few bottles of wine, which took Sakura off guard because college-aged men usually go for beer or hard liquor, but it wasn't her job to question them, so she turned to procure their drinks, only to freeze when an unfamiliar voice stopped her.

"What kind of waitress are you? You didn't even tell us your name."

Turning around to apologize, she stammered nervously when the one who appeared to be leading the group smirked confidently, "O-Oh, um, I'm Sakura. Sorry again."

When she left, he didn't stop her this time but called out, "That'd better be a joke, new girl!"

When Sakura arrived at the bar, she pouted while telling the bartender, another intimidating man with dark blue hair and the physique of a bodybuilder named Kisame, "Brevante Merlot. Three bottles, please."

Kisame grinned, "Ah, you poor girl. I know exactly who you're serving. If you need me to come over and whip those idiots into shape, just say the word."

Smiling gratefully, she accepted the expensive alcohol and placed it on a tray to bring to the five men, who'd attracted the attention of a few women who joined them in their area. "I'll be right back with glasses."

"Say, new girl. What's your real name?"

Sakura paused, taking a deep breath before neutralizing her irritated expression and facing the increasingly annoying dark-haired guy, "Sakura is my real name. Now, if you'll excuse me, I-" "What kind of stripper name is that? It's like a redhead calling herself Ginger."

The woman's composure faltered, a deadpan expression meeting her face before she shook her head, smiled, and wordlessly left to retrieve wine glasses.

Thankfully, when she returned, they were all too busy entertaining women or speaking to one another to taunt her, and she successfully slipped away to check on her other tables.

After serving refills, she leaned against the bar with a look of disdain angled toward the noisy group of men, now surrounded by at least a dozen attractive women. 'They're all beauty and no decency. I should've known.'

"So, how's it goin' with the boyband?" Ino asked, giggling while handing Kisame a piece of paper containing detailed drink orders because her friend had jumped in surprise, "I'm lucky enough to have never been assigned their table. Guren says they tip well, at least. Do your best!"

A while later, when Sakura had no choice but to check in on them, the man from before asked, "I've been thinking. Are you actually a stripper? Is that why you lied and gave us that corny name?"

The silver-haired one from before laughed loudly, pulling away from two women he'd been chatting with, "Yeah, dance for us, new girl!"

Heat met the unfortunate woman's cheeks as she did her best to ignore the inappropriate comments, "I'm just here to see if you need any more to drink. Can I get you anything?"

The long-haired man sighed, "Brother, don't-" "What do you like to drink, Pinky? Get me that and join us."

'It's official. I hate this guy. He's a total douchebag!'

For two and a half hours, Sakura endured comments that gradually became more sexual until the dark-haired mine finally crossed the line. He'd managed to fluster her enough that she couldn't turn him down when he asked her to personally pour his drink. The blush had long disappeared because she was only pissed off at this point.

She'd gotten so angry that she even asked them to stop a few times, but naturally, she was ignored.

"New girl, what time do you get off? I'll pick you up."

"I don't need a ride home. Thank you, anyway." There was only a tiny drop of customer service politeness in her response. These guys, particularly the one in the middle, had worn her down to her last nerve, yet he was still talking!

"Come on! Don't be like that! Let's get out of here and go to your place. I wanna see if pink's your natural color."

Hidan drunkenly chuckled, "Bro, that's awful! How can you say that to the poor girl! She's gonna-!" She did it.

Sakura turned to face the big-mouthed man in the center and poured an entire glass of top-shelf wine on his head.

After exchanging words and him rising to stare her down with a tight grip around her wrist, Kakuzu, Kisame, and Ino arrived, the blonde hiding behind Kisame like a scared child. The manager took in the scene, speaking firmly, "Release my employee. I will ensure she's properly reprimanded."

To Sakura's surprise, her wrist was immediately free, and she stepped away from the rude man with a glare still directed his way.

"I apologize for this incident. Please allow me to cover your bill to make up for it. I'll also-" The rest of Kakuzu's professional statement didn't reach the pink-haired woman's ears because Ino grabbed her wrist and pretty much dragged her into the manager's office.

She hissed with wide eyes, looking over her new friend's appearance for injuries, "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Now that her blood pressure was coming back down, Sakura's wrist tingled where he'd squeezed it so tightly, fear flooding her veins. In the moment, she was too worked up to pay attention to it. She would've fled the moment he tried to touch her if she hadn't been so overwhelmed. She shook her head, swallowing hard and in tears as she tried not to cry. What just happened out there was scarier than she realized.

'I was a huge idiot out there. What if that guy tries to get revenge? What if he follows me home and-!' Her thoughts were cut off by the office door opening, Kakuzu entering and fixing her with a glare, "Do you have any idea the mess you've caused? Those men are significantly more important than other customers, and you attacked one of them."

Sakura stood, Ino stepping out of the office to return to her tables, and attempted to defend herself while not coming off as insubordinate, "But, Sir, all night, they've been taunting me and saying rude things! I asked them to stop multiple times, but they wouldn't."

"If that's true, you should've come to me or Kisame and had us deal with the issue. If you'd done that, I wouldn't have to terminate your employment."

The woman's heart stopped, "...What? You're firing me?"

Kakuzu sighed, sitting heavily at his desk, "If you were more tenured, I wouldn't have to, but you're too new to make a mistake this large. I wish you well in your future endeavors. You may leave now or choose to finish the shift." He gestured to the door with one hand, the other on his temple as though nursing a headache, "Please step out of my office as I have an important phone call to make."

'I can't afford to leave without finishing my shift. I need the money.' She had no choice but to wash her face in the bathroom to hide that she'd been crying and get back to work. Karin took over the rowdy men's table and appeared to handle it much better than her.

That night, after Ino dropped her off, Sakura stayed up late applying to countless jobs, no matter what they were, because she needed to begin working within the next two days if she hoped to earn enough money in time for rent.

As the next two days passed, she followed up on the applications but either got turned down for the job, it didn't pay enough, or they wouldn't work around her school schedule. So, after returning to the apartment with no results on Monday night, she began packing her things.

'It feels terrible to fail so quickly after leaving home. I seriously don't want to go back there, but if I don't, I'll end up starving and on the streets.'

One thing she knew for sure was that it was all that handsome, dark-haired asshole's fault.

[chalterdh22]

Chapter 20: Who’s up for Some Training?

When I awoke the next day, I was in the cabin alone.  I went outside, wiped the sleep out of my eyes in the brightly lit sunshine, looked around and didn’t see Din nor Grogu.  I shrugged and went inside to freshen up.  I looked at myself in the mirror and heard a small commotion coming from outside.  Not a bad one, just some noise.  I took a step back and peaked out the tiny window.  I saw the kid hopping super high from one rock to another while someone was trying to catch him.  They both were laughing, which made me smile, but who was this? 

I squinted again and, oh shoot, it was Din, but he didn’t have his helmet on.  Crap, crap!  I thought.  I whipped around as if I caught someone doing something they shouldn’t have.  Then, of course, curiosity got the better of me.

I leaned over to peak again, and there Din stood.  Just like any other normal man.  Brown hair, brown eyes, facial hair and, wait, is that a smile?  I must have had the dumbest look on my face as I just stared at a man who I knew well but didn’t know at all!  The more I watched them playing, the more my heart seemed to warm up.  It tingled with this soft, sensitive calmness.  It was like watching my family who I have known forever, but barely got to see.

And again, to see Din so clearly, wow.  I can’t lie and say I didn’t find him attractive.  It might have been his looks, the way he played with the kid, or the fact he’s so mysterious, but I definitely felt some attraction to him.  I haven’t felt that in a long time, especially since I haven’t been in too many relationships.

As I finished cleaning myself up, I went out to the front and coughed loud enough I thought so they could hear me.  I didn’t want to impose on their time.

I heard steps getting closer to the front porch area.  “Look who finally woke up kid?” 

“Gaaah.”  He jumped up right onto my lap.

“Hey buddy!  Did you sleep good too?  I did!”  I scratched the top of his head. 

“That’s good you slept well.  We didn’t want to wake you.” 

“Thank you.”  I softly said to him.

Din looked at me.  “Are you ok?”

Wow, was I that that obvious?  I don’t know why I’m acting quietly around him suddenly.  He’s the same person I’ve been with this whole time.  Pull it together girl!!!

“I’m still just waking up is all.  How long have you guys been up?”

“A few hours.  We wanted to let you rest, so we went out back for a while.”  Yeah, I know, I was thinking, a little smile appearing on my lips.  “What?  Why are you smiling?”

“Why are you so observant all of a sudden to human emotions?”  I all but yelled.  He took a step back and looked at me.

“Are you…. mad at me?” 

I stood up with the kid.  “No, sorry.  I’m not mad at you.  It’s just……”

“What?”  I looked down at Grogu, who seemed to understand my broken language.

“I’m just not feeling like myself since meeting Luke.”  I put Grogu down, who was still looking up at me.  I smiled at him.  He seemed to be the only thing to understand me completely.

“Well, is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, not unless you can help me make my mind a little stronger or help me learn how not to hurt the ones, I love….”  My voice trailed off at the end.  I didn’t really just say love, did I?  Oh, for crying out loud!

“No, no I can’t help with that.  But I can help with some other kind of training if you want me to.”

I shrugged again.  I didn’t really know what I wanted.  A part of me wanted to just go back home and a large part wanted me to stay here.  And as if he could suddenly read my mind, “I’m not taking you back home.”

I stared at him doe eyed.  Ok, he is really on top of his game today.  “Ok, I’ll take you up on that offer.  What would you be able to teach me?  I’m not wearing all that armor you are, so what have you got?”  I challenged back at him.  I also realized I was being rude to a guy who already has social issues.  I put my hand up to my chest and said, “I’m really sorry.  I’m not trying to be rude to you.  I’m just super confused and unsure, and that’s not like me.”

I looked straight at him, hoping he could see my sincerity.  “It’s fine.  I know it can be hard sometimes finding yourself.  I went through that at one point.”  He paused a moment.  “But I do think I can train you on fighting, defensive maneuvers and other skills that you could use.”

“Thanks Din.  I appreciate it.  What about you, kiddo?  Can you teach me anything?  I sure hope so.”  I knelt down and ruffled his head. 

“Patu.”

“What is that?  I’ve heard him say that a few times now.”

Din shrugged.  “I’m not sure.  I’m not sure it’s anything.  Maybe one day we’ll find out.”  He looked down at him.  “Grogu.”  He looked up at his dad.  Din put his arm out and the kid high jumped right into it.  Din looked at me.

“What?  I still think you treat him like a pet!”  Din tilted his head and shrugged again.

“I think he’s fine.”  He started walking off the porch area into some open land.  “Now, let’s see what you got.”  I gulped, suddenly getting nervous again.