#the producers already warned that it's only getting darker from here

[stormxpadme]

I apologize if you see the latest X-Men '97 episode 😬

Also I don't think you'll be happy about Toad's confirmed fate in Wolverine #47 either 😬

I’ve seen it, posted about it right after it came out :). German time zone, so the episodes are out here in the morning and I can watch right at work. It’s good storytelling the fucking love triangle aside, and for the fix its, we got fanficfion. I don’t actively read comics but I read up on some information and spoilers, so I think I’m up to date on Toad too (one of the exiles’ final casualties if I’m not wrong). I’m mainly a movieverse fan and Toad’s not really a hero I relate to there, so I’m kinda indifferent to the update tbh. And what happens in comics in general, again, I’m not invested in anyway. I kinda see them as fanfiction at this point. Makes stuff easier to ignore.

[edgeray]

Heyyooo!! I was wondering if you could make an Arle x afab reader with like a beauty and the beast plot?? Arle’s curse is slowly killing her though which is why her arms turned black and the only way she can save herself (this curse could also be affecting the House of the Hearth, up to you) is if she finds someone whom she can open up her heart to and they accept her fully and love her back in return! It doesn’t have to be exactly like that but I do think having a beauty and the beast au with arle x reader would be pretty fun to see.

Cursed Human

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Hi anon! This is a super interesting AU anon! If you choose to request as an anon again make sure to give yourself a name/emoji 🫶. I actually really love this idea. This gives a little bit of hanahaki au vibes (which is something separate that I should write and have been meaning to write, ack– too many wip). This will lean more into dark fairytale and will be based off of Arlecchino's backstory. (This turned out darker than I expected, and I'm very sorry for that.)  The switch up is crazy to me. 💀 How do I pull out horse girl au, platonic au, and domestic fluff, and then this shit? I'm versatile like that, I guess. But I promise it gets better after all the dark stuff.  Content warnings / info - afab reader, pretty dark, some brief religious notions, semi-graphic details of violence, a little bit of arlevie but only ‘cuz of the angst, hopefully not forgetting something, 1.8k words

Here tells the tale of a cursed monster. 

Peruere was said to be cursed from childbirth. A child who caused misfortune wherever and whenever, it was a surprise to none of the villagers when Arlecchino was dropped off at the doorstep of Crucabena, the head of an illegitimate orphanage. Misfortune began with the death of her birth mother. Afterwards, her father was stricken by an unknown illness, quickly becoming too ill to take care of her. The first day that Peruere arrived at the orphanage, the stocked vegetables and fruits had all rotten. And the first night, every child in the same room as her was suddenly struck with insomnia.   

(The pregnancy only intensified the already ill mother  in the first place. The stress from a newborn child and the death of his wife caused him to be ill. The recent intensity of humidity accelerated the spoilage of the produce. The mattresses were far too solid, the room was far too cold, and the piercing cries of Crucabena's daughter were far too loud to allow slumber.)  

The villagers deemed her as cursed, a threat to their quaint little town. They tried to persuade the town head, a powerful sorcerer, to eradicate the hell offspring. The town head rejected, suggesting that the mere existence of a child did not warrant taking away her life. Crucabena had stepped up to the conference, easing the villagers’ concerns by ensuring that the depravity would be beaten out of the wretched child. 

And Crucabena did just as she said she would. 

“Mother” had no issue every night carving the symbol of her archon into Arlecchino's skin in an effort to exercise the demon inside of the child. “Mother” sullied Peruere's once flawless skin with bruises, lacerations, and blood. The cursed child clawed and struggled away every night, and yet every night she only knew of the pain that was etched far past the layers of her skin, carved into her bones, and syringed into her veins. 

The wretched child became very familiar with the acute sting or the prickling ache. However, there was something else she became familiar with. While “Mother" dealt her pain, what Clervie dealt her was love.

Clervie was young and naive. Perhaps if the cursed child knew better, Clervie would not be tainted.  

“Mother” did not stop even when the screams of a six-year-old child rang through her ears. “Mother” did not stop when even her other children begged her to stop her demonstrations. “Mother” did not stop when her own daughter rose against her. “Mother” did not stop when her own daughter's blood spilt on her hands. 

Love is a strange thing. It can transform a meek sheep into a vengeful wolf. 

The same night that Clervie's life was extinguished, Peruere burned bright, hot enough to scorch Crucabena's life away. 

After hearing of the child's atrocity, the town head cursed the child, expeling her to a decrepit home amidst a dark forest, condemning her to a slow, painful death. Peruere will die a death befitting an unlovable, inhuman creature. For if she sins under the pretense of something so pure, then she shall forever be undeserving of it. Stripped from her final piece of humanity, her name, a new name is thrusted upon the child: Arlecchino, the Knave, the servant of a devil.

—

At Arlecchino's feet lay the corpses of the intrusive villagers, the ones that dared to enter her forest and prey upon her children. How dare they? 

It had been a decade since she had been cursed. A simmering fire burns within her veins, sometimes the constant ache so acute that Arlecchino believes that she is truly burning from within. She had long presumed that that was the very nature of her curse, that she would eventually burn from the inside like the very flames that consumed Crucabena. Her arms had attained the same color as char, the spread of the physical toll of her curse growing with each passing day. And her eyes, they gain red-crossed pupils, said to be the mark of a demon inside. 

After having been expelled, the villagers were ‘generous’ enough to give her an abandoned abode. With her hands, she made it into something liveable. After a few weeks of living in the forest, she encountered intruders on the eastern borders of her forest: children from another town, said to be cursed and so were being chased out by villagers with torches and pitchforks. Arlecchino had sheltered them, and they had remained with her since.

Arlecchino gives it another half-decade before the char completely consumes her body, and she will meet the same fate as “Mother.” But until then, she will protect her forest, her home, her children. Perhaps her children will grow strong enough to protect themselves when she is gone. 

Other children, in one way or another, made their way into her forest. One, whose mother had abandoned after giving birth to them, was left to die with nothing but a blanket bundled around them. Another, seeking a sanctuary to peacefully die was convinced otherwise, and now smiles everyday. Each and every child within her cabin had some tragedy placed unjustly on them, and so Arlecchino welcomed her arms to them. 

Arlecchino had taught them well, each child could not venture out beyond the woods for their own safety. But the villagers, across all five villages surrounding her forest, had grown bolder, determined to ‘exterminate vileness.’ 

She cannot protect her children for much longer. She will die, and her children–her nest of the outcasts, the abandoned, the cursed, the hurt–will be left to fend for themselves. Even she cannot escape fate, no matter how much she challenges it. That is the tragedy she must shoulder.  

She is tired. 

The warmth of her children, while welcomed, is not the same as the warmth she longs. The warmth of her children does not comfort her at nights when the bloodfire, so she calls it, creeps up, maiming any semblance of sleep. The warmth of her children does not undo or prevent the curse's effect, her arms still remain black, her hands still resembling the claws of a monster. The warmth of her children does not melt her frigid heart, does not make her any more human. 

She longs and longs for something she is destined to never receive. 

Because this is the most she deserves. 

—

One day, a person stumbles into her forest. She is neither a child or a malevolent aggressor. She encounters you, breathless and heaving as you clutch your bleeding side. Arlecchino can tell that you do not bear any spite towards her or her children, but she cannot deem you nonthreatening. 

“A-are you the Knave?” you're able to choke out, leaning against the tree.

“Would you like the misfortune of finding out?” Arlecchino forewarns, extending out her hands and showcasing her claws, remnants of other victims’ blood still on her fingers. You swallow thickly, your hand clutching onto the small dagger behind your back. 

“I'm… I'm looking for my child. They wandered into here and never came back. But… I refuse to believe that they're dead. They're alive, aren't they? You have them, don't you? Let me see them,” you boldly demand, despite your injured state. Your eyes burn with a dangerous determination, a familiar fire dancing among your pupils. 

“Are you unaware? That the Knave kidnaps and feeds on young children?” That was obviously a lie, but an effective lie that has dissuaded most villagers from entering her territory. 

You shook your head. “They're just rumors.”

“And how would you know?” 

You breathe in deeply. “I've heard of you. You're the first cursed child. But, I know why you were cursed. You wouldn't… you wouldn't do that.”

Arlecchino pauses, hesitance in her for the slightest moment. “I am cursed,” she says it like a shield, a wall that defends her from futile hopes. 

“The world isn't as just as most people like us to believe.”

The cursed human breathes deeply. “What is your name?” 

—

You were telling the truth. Arlecchino remembers one of her children yearning for their mother, the only source of comfort before they found the House. She takes you to her home, and you're reunited with your child.

Your child pleads with Arlecchino to allow you to stay, and begrudgingly, she does, to your amazement. You adjust well to living in the secluded home, often filling in for her the emotional support that the children always needed, but she could not provide. The children take to calling you ‘Mother.’ You joke with the children, insisting that Arlecchino was the ‘Father’ in that case.  

Something inside of her stirs when she does. It is both a familiar and foreign sensation, somehow a sweet and bitter taste in her mouth, soothing but perturbing at once. You are unbeknownst to this. 

There are traits that you learn about the cursed once-child, traits that you find endearing, and traits that you later learn to love. Although her words may be cutting, they can carry a tenderness with them. Her hands, that she so frequently despises, protect her children. There is no reason for you not to love them, despite their appearance. She utilizes her cursed status to protect all of you, and for that, how could you possibly see someone who is ‘cursed’ or ‘inhuman?’ 

One night, you lay awake, suddenly jolted by the sounds of scratching, originating from the room besides you. You approach the room, and view the forlorn sight of Arlecchino, hunched over and writhing in pain, the bloodfire overtaking her once more. Pained groans escape from her as her claws dig into the wall besides her, dragging them down as she searches for any sense of grounding. Her eyes glower, the color reminiscent of blood. It is in this moment where she looks nothing more like a beast. 

Still, you do not see her as such. Not when you take her hand, kissing each knuckle and finger, the same ones that had saved your child from danger, the same ones that had saved you. 

“Arlecchino,” you whisper out to her, and it calls out to her soul. The bloodfire weakens, and she gazes at you. Your eyes fill with a warmth that melts her.

“Don't,” she warns with a harsh gruff that wavers, attempting to wrench her hand out of her grasp, but she finds herself vulnerable when you grip tighter. You lean down, bringing your lips on her blackened skin, the very skin that signifies her inhumanity. The black gradient recedes, and you continue until you kiss up to her shoulder. By then, the charred hue only spreads up to her knuckles.

Shock envelops her expression, but she is hardly given the time to process when you slot your lips over hers. She sighs and leans in, bringing up her hand to cup your face. 

Her hands are neither clawed, nor charred at that moment, but the two of you hardly realize until the next morning. The bloodfire inside of Arlecchino dissipates.

Fate can be challenged, and destiny can be broken. Cursed or not, deserving of or not, Arlecchino will take what is rightfully hers. 

[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

The List (7)

Summary: When a hit list spreads around New York, Bucky’s ex-wife is the only one with any information.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia Bucky Barnes x Ex-Wife Reader

Warnings: Implied sexual content

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Not Beta’d. Sorry for the long wait. How do you think this story will end? Will Bucky and Y/N get a happy ending? Leave a comment with your thoughts!

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 7

Most people hope their first marriage is their only marriage. If anyone asked Y/N years ago, she would have agreed. She could have gone without divorcing Bucky, but marrying the same man twice came pretty close.

Y/N smacked her ruby stained lips in the mirror. The edge of her burgundy nails traced the corners of her lips.

“You look beautiful as always Y/N.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the man through the mirror. Sam stood behind her, a soft smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Sam,” Y/N replied, his eyes flickering back to her own reflection. “Do you have the dress?”

The sun seeped through the window dusting Bucky’s bedroom in an orange glow. Sam ran his hand down the front of his ash gray suit. A smirk danced along his lips as he plucked a long cloth white bag from the bed.

“I went to three stores for this. The look on the faces of everyone in the stores when I told them I needed a dress for prison was priceless.” He unzipped the bag, twirling the hanger between his fingers. “Believe me when I say it's not easy shopping for a prison bride. What do ya think?”

Facing Sam, Y/N couldn’t contain her excitement as she leaped forward to snatch the dress from his grasp. It was modest yet elegant. With her back to Sam once again, she held the dress against her bodice. The dress wasn’t form-fitting like most and the neckline was higher than usual, but she felt beautiful, respected.

“The prison doesn’t allow visitors to wear plunging necklines or skirts with slits so Bucky will have to wait to get a glimpse of the goods,” Sam teased.

Y/N threw her head back as she laughed. “No, it’s beautiful, Sam.” She turned, patting his chest. “You did great. Besides, Bucky’s already seen the goods.”

Sam snorted.

“Help me with this?”

Sam nodded, tugging the zipper of the dress down while Y/N unknotted her silk robe.

Click.

“I heard of bachelorette parties getting crazy, but I didn’t expect you to stoop as low as Wilson.” Steve chided in the doorway. His blue eyes darker against his charcoal suit.

“Ha, ha. Very funny. Do you have the paper?” Y/N questioned, crossing her arms to keep her robe closed.

Steve tapped a folder against the trim of the doorway. “One marriage license for Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.”

“The rings?”

Steve stalked toward Bucky's dresser, producing two familiar rings.

Y/N gasped. Her bare feet padded across the floor until she was in front of Steve. “Is that-”

“Bucky’s old wedding ring? Yeah. The guy is sentimental.” Steve shrugged.

A million emotions pulled at her chest. She squashed the thought that she was repeating a mistake. They were different now, but she had to ask, “What about his mother’s ring?” It didn’t feel right to call it her ring. They were divorced. It was his mother’s first, it belonged in the Barnes family, that’s why she gave it back.

Steve frowned. “I don’t know.”

“You sure you want to get married at the prison?” Sam piped up dangling the dress between his index fingers. 

It wasn’t like they would be getting married in the courtyard or mess hall. Y/N nodded. “There's a chapel-”

Everyone froze at the sound of wheels on gravel. All of Bucky’s men were in the house. Steve was the last one out, no one should have made it past the gate. Where was Peter?

“Are you expecting someone?” Sam whispered.

Before Y/N could shake her head, Steve was taking control. It was his instinct and Bucky would never forgive him if he let something happen to Y/N. His blue eyes found Y/N’s tossing the folder and ring on the dresser. “Stay here,” he commanded in a hiss. Then he was gone, his gun in hand.

Eyeing Y/N’s state of underdress, Sam grabbed his own gun from the back of his pants. “Stay here. Keep away from the windows.” Just as fast as Steve had vanished, Sam did too.

Y/N growled, aggressively tying the string of her robe in a knot. She was supposed to be in charge, not hiding like a damsel in distress in her bedroom. Drawing her own gun, she raced down the hall ignoring her lack of shoes. After being in a shootout at the gala, she knew her presence could be the difference between life or death.

When she reached the front door, a bunch of Bucky’s men had already flocked to the front of the house, each with a gun pointed at a sleek black car. Y/N knew Bucky had a lot of men working for him but seeing them all at once was overwhelming. Nevertheless, she made her way through the crowd slotting herself between Sam and Steve. She could feel the latter shoot her a glare, but she ignored it. They had bigger problems, but she knew sticking with Sam and Steve was her best bet at making it out of whatever this was.

The tinted windows left everyone on edge up until the moment the driver’s side opened. Cropped brown hair peeked over the top of the car followed by two peace signs.

“We come in peace.”

Lowering the steel piece in her hands, Y/N waved her hand. Everyone lowered their gun before Y/N engulfed the man in a hug.

“Thanks for calling off the guard dogs,” Tony mumbled.

Y/N pulled away staring into the man’s square framed glasses. “What are you doing here?”

Peeking over Y/N’s shoulder, Tony nodded at Steve. “Heard you were getting married today. I wanted to deliver my wedding present in person.”

She wanted to tell Tony he didn’t have to get her anything, but the words were stuck in her throat when the car door behind Tony opened. In a memorable blue suit, the very one Y/N had dropped off at the prison, stood Bucky Barnes. The men began to whisper but Y/N sucked in a breath. The sight of the man on a normal day was enough to leave her speechless, but she wasn’t sure he was really standing in front of her. If he wasn’t and it was all a dream, she didn’t want to say anything and ruin it.

Bucky grinned, eyeing each of his men before his steel blue eyes locked with Y/N’s. With his arms outstretched he announced, “Daddy’s home.”

His voice was enough confirmation that her fiancé was indeed standing in front of her, free from prison walls. Shoving her gun in Tony’s chest, she leaped into Bucky’s arms. With support from one of Bucky’s hands under her and her legs securely wrapped around his waist, Bucky’s free hand wrapped around the back of her neck pulling her into a searing kiss.

“What are you doing here? Did you escape?” Y/N panted, as Bucky settled her back on her feet. His arms remind around her holding her close.

Bucky laughed, “No, I’m on probation for good behavior courtesy of Tony’s top-notch lawyer, but he did.” He jabs his finger over his shoulder toward the car.

Tony knocked on the hood of the car. “It wasn’t easy either. You’re lucky Barnes.”

The back seat behind the passenger’s side door opened and for what felt like the millionth time that day, Y/N was shocked.

Thor.

Y/N gripped Bucky tight. “You brought an escapee here? To our home?”

The corners of Bucky's lips twitch at the word home. He was home. More importantly, she was home. “You said he’s a good guy. I trust you.”

“Lady Y/L/N, good to see you again.” Thor plucked her from Bucky’s arms and spun her around.

Despite his trust in Y/N, Bucky was still wary of Thor. As friendly as he seemed, Bucky had seen him fight. The man was unpredictable. It was better for everyone if he could keep an eye on Thor. To make sure he wasn’t going to run off to his brother.

“No one is going to look for him here, but I bet they’ll be knocking on Loki’s door soon enough.” Tony offered.

“Good to see you too, Thor,” Y/N returned his hug. He had always been kind to her, and she would have been glad to call him her brother-in-law. Unfortunately, his brother wanted her dead.

When Thor released her, she accepted Bucky’s outstretched hand. His hand then found a home around her waist, holding her against him as they made their way toward where Sam and Steve were standing. “Is this what you’ve been wearing to greet all of my men when they come home?” Bucky growled, pinching the silk hugging her body.

Y/N jumped. “No, I-”

“Welcome back Barnes,” Sam greeted, shaking Bucky’s free hand. Steve on the other hand nodded at Bucky and retreated back into the house with many of the other men. Y/N would have found it odd had Steve not had any updates on Bucky through her.

When they reached the front door, Bucky cupped Y/N’s jaw planting a kiss on her lips. Y/N melted into the kiss, but it ended too soon for her liking. Bucky pulled away, his thumb brushing the smeared lipstick from her lips. “I’m gonna make an honest woman out of you.”

Standing in the wedding gown Sam picked out, she admired her appearance. Now that Bucky was out, they could discuss their plans more freely, but that didn't mean he was free. His ankle bracelet was enough to keep him trapped in the confines of his property. A sitting duck away from police like a gift wrapped up and delivered on Loki’s doorstep.

Bucky had spent the hour chatting with his men and getting up to date on matters outside of Loki’s drama. Y/N used that time to finish getting ready. Steve was busy making arrangements for their wedding to take place at the house. Y/N and Bucky agreed to meet to get married before dinner, but Bucky was greedy. He spent far too long without her during their divorce and once he got her back, he was shipped off to prison. Bucky didn’t want to waste another moment without her.

Bucky kissed the base of her neck. His nose ran up the side as his lips paused against the shell of her ear. “You look beautiful.”

“It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her gown before the wedding.”

Bucky snorted, “We’ve already done the traditional wedding once and the only thing that not seeing you all dolled up before the wedding did, was prevent me from tearing the dress off you.”

Y/N chuckled, spinning in his hold to face him. “Well, you did promise to fuck me only wearing this.” She held her left hand at eye level. Bucky didn’t miss the wiggle of her eyebrows past the gap between her fingers. Y/N stepped back unzipping the back of her gown. Like a film, Bucky couldn't take his eyes off her. She was his favorite movie, and she was the star. He’d gladly stand by her as the supporting actor. When the dress pooled at her feet, she slotted her bare skin against Bucky’s clothed chest. Bucky’s Adams apple bobbed as she brushed her lips against his own. A seductive whisper on her lips, “Fuck me.” Bucky groaned, gripping her hips as he stumbled backwards. He shook his head, his legs hit the bed and he plopped onto the mattress, taking his fiancée with him. Slipping out from the collar of his white button down was a small white gold ring on a chain. Staring up at the woman straddling his lap Bucky moaned, “No. Fuck me.”

While Y/N would have gladly married Bucky in an intimate setting between the two of them, Bucky wanted to proudly show her off. Everyone knew her but she was home. She was his, and he was hers. They had found their way back to one another. With the underlying threat looming in the air, if tonight was all they got, Bucky was going to make it the best night.

Happily drunk and giggling, Y/N locked eyes with Bucky from across the room. He sat leaned back in a chair at a small table watching her from across his meeting room turned ballroom. His index finger and thumb stroking his beard. She crossed the makeshift dance floor pausing a moment to talk to Sam.

“She’s having a great time.” Steve sat beside Bucky, nodding at Y/N.

Bucky hummed, “I think everyone is.” There was a long moment of silence between the two before Bucky spoke again. “Thank you.”

Steve tilted his head, his eyebrow raised. “It wasn’t hard to set up. You’d be surprised what people can do with a week's notice.”

Bucky nodded. “I meant thank you for taking care of her while I was gone. I was going to wait to thank you for the wedding until it was officially over so I can properly thank you for everything.”

Y/N met Bucky’s gaze once again.

“You're newly married and by law not allowed to leave your house. I doubt you’ll have time for any thank yous.” Steve teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Before Bucky could respond, Y/N was standing in front of him. Her hand outstretched as if waiting for him to kiss the back of it. Bucky admired the white gold ring, a stark contrast against her red nails. He was pleased she accepted his mother’s wedding band once again. It was a ring the two most important women in his life had worn; he had only given to one person, and he didn't intend to give to another. A ring he kept close to his heart since she had given it back, since she had given his heart back. He was delighted to return the ring and his heart to her, where they belonged.

“Bucky, come dance with me.”

Bucky grasped her hand running his thumb over the rings as he had the day he first saw her wear the engagement ring. His eyes traced the vein extending from her ring finger up her arm.

“Please husband,” Y/N whined.

Steve chuckled, “You better go dance with your wife, punk.”

Bucky didn’t need to see the rest of the vein hidden beneath her dress to know it led to her heart. Just like the ring he had given her, she had him wrapped around her finger. After kissing the rings on top of the vein shooting directly to her heart, Bucky grinned up at her. “Lead the way, wife.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @vicmc624 @winterslove1917 @unaxv @hangmanscoming @globetrotter28 @athenabarnes @shara-ne @mal-adaptive-dreams @jvanilly @d3m0n8ch1ld @ppbhquinn @alysianc @firstcashheroathlete @malum-forev @missvelvetsstuff @animegirlgeeky @blue786sworld @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @alessandraavengers @ozwriterchick @nerdgirljen @emily-roberts @pandabearrrrrrr @venting402 @barewithme02 @introverbatim @buckybarnessimpp @mega-kittyglitter-1 @yung-griffyndork0 @toriluvsfics @samahenoyrhye @motivation-idontknowher @pics-and-fanfics @po55um @devil11197 @keeperofsecrets6411 @natasha-died-4-our-sins @marvel-marauder16 @sugamilkteaxkookiesxcream @mcu21lover19 @imgaybutimstraight @buckysbarne @playboystark @sargexcapsprincess @eviltinkerbell14 @quethekillerqueen @barewithme02 @buuuuuuucky @reader-without-a-story @5lutty5arah

[starwarsmum]

Day 17! Line Without a Hook

@maribat-calendar-events

Marinette didn't make a sound as she allowed the man to push her into the apartment. He kept the weapon - a sawn off shotgun, she noted distantly - pointed at her as he secured all of her locks. She swallowed her panic back as she thought about all of the warnings her brain had been giving her and cursed her own stupidity.

“So, you're probably wondering why I'm here, threatening you of all people,” the man said, turning towards her and taking off his cap. Marinette stiffened when she saw a streak of white in his hair, flashing back to that awful mission where Viperion had…she shook the memories away. “You see, you're my bait. There's a certain little birdie that likes to flutter around you. And it's so much easier to catch a Robin when you have something he wants.”

“I don't know Robin,” she said timidly, though alarm bells were ringing. Had he somehow seen through the magic of her transformation? He looked at her with narrowed eyes and she tried not to let the panic show in her voice. “Please, if you expect him to show up to help me when we've never even met it will be like- like casting a line with no worm. Or without a hook to ensnare the fish.”

“Oh, Replacement will show up,” the man said confidently, his blue eyes searing into her own. Her confusion at his nickname must have shown because he gave her a sardonic smile but didn't elaborate. “Believe me, a damsel in distress? One that he's been trying to hook up with? He'll be here.”

Marinette flushed but realisation was dawning on her as she thought of the only man she could be considered to be of importance to. He then forced her into one of the chairs from her kitchen, producing zip ties and a gag. Once he was happy that she was secured, he rooted through her pockets until he found her phone.

Apparently breaking into it to find her contacts wasn't really a challenge and she could only watch helplessly as he used her phone for his own purposes. 

_ _ _

Tim was already grappling across the city when his phone chimed with an incoming message. Unfortunately, said phone was all the way across the city, sitting safely in the Batcave while he, still dressed as Robin, made his way to Marinette's apartment.

When he arrived, he saw that her window was opened a crack. It concerned him but he figured it worked in his favour. He tapped on the glass but didn't get a response. Something seemed…wrong. He knew that Marinette had been stressed out about the guy following her, and she was savvy enough to know that even if she was on an upper floor an open window was an invitation for trouble.

So after deliberating for a few moments he decided to go in and check. If she was asleep with an open window he would ditch out immediately but if he was right and there was something more sinister afoot he didn't want to delay. The window opened with a loud creak and he winced - if she wasn't awake before, she should be now.

The apartment was quiet, darker than he would have expected. He couldn't see far in front of himself, so he went to activate his night vision to give himself an edge-

And promptly froze just before he was able to, light blazing into life. His heart jumped into his throat when he finally caught sight of Marinette; she was strapped to a chair, a gun pointing at the back of her head. She looked confused, her eyes wide and he wished he could tell what she was thinking. 

“And you said you didn't know Robin,” the man holding a gun to her head said. Tim finally looked at him fully, blinking as he took in the bright colours and familiarity of another Robin suit. “Looks like he knows you though. Nice to meet you properly, Replacement.”

“And who exactly are you meant to be?” Tim said, activating a distress beacon discreetly. “Kind of weird for you to be doing cosplay if you're kidnapping people.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart Robin, Timmy,” the man said, a sarcastic smile on his face. “That's how you replaced me, isn't it? By being smart, raised in your safe little bubble by daddy and going to the fancy private school. Little Nettie here gets it, her parents had to work and now look at her.”

“You think you're Jason,” Tim said, brow furrowing. He tried to reassure Marinette with a look but hardly dared to look away from the madman with the weapon.

“What, you don't recognise me? Need me to be stood next to Bruce, or Dickie bird, to get it?” He stepped forward with a snarl, shoving Marinette to the side roughly. The chair toppled and Tim flinched at the small sound of pain that made it past the gag. “But I didn't come here to convince you of who I am, Timbo. I want you to show me you have what it takes to be a better Robin than I was.

“I want to see whatever it is that makes you think you didn't just get lucky. Because it didn't surprise anyone when I died, because I was a kid that dressed up like a hero. The only reason you're still standing is because you've been lucky your whole life!”

“No, I'm still here because I worked for it,” Tim retorted, holding his staff in front of him. “I had to convince Batman to let me work with him because you died. He's not the same man anymore because he never got over your death. But if you were seriously wondering, I do think I'm a better Robin than you.”

“Then prove it,” Jason sneered before launching himself at Tim. The world was a blur of fists and Tim's Bo staff for several minutes. He kept trying to get around Jason, to get closer to Marinette and free her, but was blocked at every turn.

The distraction proved too much and suddenly Tim was gasping for air on the floor, bleeding freely. Jason had hold of his suit, pulling him up with absurd ease as he pulled a fist back to hit him again.

But then Tim heard a solid ‘whack’ and fell to the floor, dazed. Jason slumped sideways, revealing Marinette, free from her bonds and wielding a baseball bat. Her breaths were coming quickly but she rushed to Tim's side, pulling him with surprising strength away from Jason.

“Are you okay?” She whispered, pulling aside his mask and opening his eyes wide. He felt slow and his grasp on consciousness was fading when movement by the window made her whirl away from him.

Marinette crouched between the two Robins, glaring at the one she presumed must have been Jason. He gave her a measured look before vanishing out of the window. She stayed where she was for another second before deciding that checking Tim over took precedence.

He was out cold but breathing steadily. She pushed away the revelation that Tim was, in fact, one of the vigilantes she had been working with in her other persona. She was sure she would have a meltdown about it later but for now she compartmentalised. 

She almost melted into a puddle of relief when Batman and Nightwing appeared in the same window that Jason had left through. Letting them take over the care of Robin was the easiest thing in the world and she was glad she had replaced his mask so there were no awkward questions.

Once Nightwing left with Robin, Batman turned to her to get her version of events. Forcibly reminded of mission debriefs on the WatchTower, Marinette fell into the familiar pattern of recounting what had happened, not put off by the silent way he took in the information as she spoke.

“And he called Robin his replacement?” Batman said, and Marinette couldn't mistake the undertone of concern for anything else. She nodded and he gave a long sigh before thanking her and asking if she had someone to stay with while they tracked Jason down.

[inu-jiru]

For the ask game!

13. I saw your art on the goetia sometimes doing adverts for products in your rewrite. Do you have ideas for what other sins are advertising? It is a really neat idea! :0c

Ahhh! Great question! For "H U N G E R", I imagine the Sins have their own products to sell, as well as any collaborative projects they might do since a lot of sin tends to overlap:

For Pride, I don't see Lucifer really selling anything unless it's based off him in some way (i.e. a film adaptation of his various deeds). I seem him more as a straight up propaganda guy who'll just plaster his image everywhere to make sure everyone knows he's in charge (and it irritates him greatly when they're destroyed, but that's a different discussion entirely ;3). Lucifer's already paid a large amount in taxes from everyone (Goetias and Sins included), so money isn't his main concern.

Satan typically collabs with Belphegor to advertise steroids and I also see him hosting Hell's version of WWE (except a lot more violent). I do plan on keeping some of the wild west/ranch elements from canon, and Hellborn who own land can advertise their goods if they can afford it.

Beelzebub advertises various food items, but mainly pushes her own line of honey which is dangerously addictive (eating it can send a demon spiraling into a gluttonous frenzy). She also has her own food channel where some members of the Goetia (like Queen Felicity) host their own cooking shows (she'll regularly make demands on what kind of food they produce since it's all food porn to her, so if one day she wants to see some poor imp butchered and made into a roast, it has to happen). As much as I didn't care for "Queen Bee", I did think the idea of pop music and parties fit Gluttony in a sense that, yeah, people splurge when they're partying, so she'd have a hand in pushing Hell's music industry as well.

Mammon handles much of Hell's manufacturing, so anything from clothes, jewelry, theme parks and anything else he can make a buck on, he'll advertise (mainly to the other Goetia since most Hellborn can't afford the good stuff). He's not above the idea of "sex sells", so I tried to implement that in the art piece I did. A story in the series I hope to get to at one point relates to his and Leviathan's collaboration in bringing cruise ships to Envy's ocean, so that'll be fun to write more about.

Lust, of course, manages the porn industry and everything involved with that. Collaborations would include aphrodisiac-based foods with Beelzebub as well as some darker projects that I'd rather not outright state here, but involve Belphegor (you can probably piece it together; this series won't shy away from dark topics, but I wanna give fair warning before I go into detail). Ironically enough, Asmodeus doesn't advertise contraceptives all that much, but I imagine he'd want pregnancy and disease to spread like crazy.

Envy tends to overlap with Greed when it comes to goods, but I can't see Leviathan advertising very much. He's the most animalistic out of the Sins and prefers the primal fear and chaos he gets out of his demons rather than material gain. He only really bothers to do it because he can't stand the other Sins having things that he doesn't.

Finally, Sloth is the mass producer of drugs of all kinds, uppers, downers, the works. Belphegor also endorses spas and resorts (for those who can afford it, of course). She doesn't advertise much, and that suits her fine since it's less work to deal with.

I'm sorry if this answer was super rambly aaaa I was just really excited to answer! ^^ Hopefully, it's an interesting read!

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Minus

So I’ve been covering the Jaco manga, but there’s one last chapter to go over, and that’s the Dragon Ball Minus feature at the end of the collected edition.  The finale of the Jaco story revealed that Jaco was sent to Earth to intercept a Saiyan invader, which turned out to be baby Goku.  So Jaco was a prequel to Dragon Ball all along, and now Dragon Ball Minus turns the clock back even further to show how and why Goku was sent to Earth in the first place. 

So let’s unpack this a bit.  In 1990, Toei produced the TV Special “Dragon Ball Z: A Lonesome, Final Battle – The Father of Z Warrior Son Goku, who Challenged Freeza.”  The English dub shortened this to “Bardock: Father of Goku”.  If you’re not familiar with it, I wrote about it here.  The special was a grim tale of Goku’s father, a brutal, uncaring cog in Frieza’s war machine.  Before he dies, one of Bardock’s enemies curses him by giving him visions of the future. This allows Bardock to see horrifying scenes of Frieza destroying the Saiyan homeworld, as well as the life of his infant son growing up on Earth. By the time Bardock understands what’s happening, it’s already too late.  But as Bardock dies with his homeworld, he takes solace in a vision of his son growing up to confront Frieza someday. 

It’s a darker story than most of Dragon Ball.  While DBZ had gotten very violent, it was still pretty clear who the good guys were.  But Bardock was an antihero at best.  I’m pretty sure the only purpose of the psychic powers was to make the character at least a little sympathetic.  By giving him a peek at his own destiny, you can have Bardock confront his own mortality, and share in the audience’s appreciation for his son.  Without those insights, Bardock would just be one Saiyan among many, with nothing to make him stand out besides a familiar haircut and a famous son that he doesn’t even know.

The story goes that the special left such an impression on Akira Toriyama that he decided to canonize Bardock by writing him into the manga.  When Frieza first meets Goku on Namek, Frieza finds Goku’s face somewhat familiar, and he recalls that one Saiyan who opposed him right to the very end.  So even though the Bardock TV Special was anime-only, I think a lot of fans considered it to be canon, since Toriyama had included the scene of Bardock opposing Frieza from the very end of the special. 

However, to quote Toriyama himself:

“I really like the story of Bardock, Goku’s father. It’s quite dramatic, and the kind of story ‘I absolutely wouldn’t draw’ if it were me. It was like watching a different kind of Dragon Ball in a good way, so I thought it was nice.”  --Akira Toriyama, Interview on October 5, 1995, published in Daizenshuu v.6.

So he enjoyed the Bardock special, but if he had to create his own story about Bardock and the destruction of Planet Vegeta, then it would be very different from “Father of Goku”, which he “absolutely wouldn’t draw”.  Not because he disliked the special, but because it’s just not the kind of story that he would tell. 

I say this because I think there were a lot of fans who took umbrage with Dragon Ball Minus for changing Bardock’s backstory from the lore we got in the special. But Toriyama practically warned us all way back in 1995 that if he ever did a Bardock story of his own, it would almost certainly be very different. 

So now that we’ve established that, let’s get down to business.  In this story, Bardock is killing aliens just like he did in the TV special, only he only seems to have one other Saiyan backing him up.  That unnamed Saiyan gets a call on his scouter, and he relays the message to Bardock: All Saiyans have been ordered to return to Planet Vegeta.  Bardock is immediately suspicious, since this seems to be an unprecedented move.  The Saiyans have been working for Frieza for some time now, and they’ve been spread out, conquering various planets for him.  Why would Frieza recall all of them back home at the same time?  When he sees Frieza’s spaceship in orbit around Planet Vegeta, he gets even more suspicious. 

Frieza’s visiting the planet because he’s had his henchmen talking to the Saiyan locals, asking them about their folklore.  His goons dismiss the tales of the Super Saiyan and Super Saiyan God, but Frieza refuses to overlook even the slightest possibility of a Saiyan growing powerful enough to oppose him.  As it is, he knows the Saiyans are too proud and willful to be truly loyal to him, so he feels justified in wiping them out before they inevitably turn against him. 

This... might just be my favorite character moment for Frieza.  A lot of DBZ was devoted to explaining and re-explaining his decision to destroy the Saiyans.  His reasons generally boil down to the following:

1) If the entire Saiyan population revolted, they could pose a threat to his rule (Early Namek Saga, the Bardock TV Special)

2) Frieza’s afraid of a Super Saiyan emerging from the Saiyan population and overthrowing him (Late Namek Saga, and Dragon Ball Minus)

3) Beerus wanted to destroy the Saiyans but was too lazy to make the trip, so he commanded Frieza to do it for him.  (Battle of Gods)

What sets this story apart from the others, though, is that we get to see just how Frieza heard about the Super Saiyan Legend in the first place.  He asked around.  And apparently this isn’t the first planet where he’s done this sort of thing.  “I’m sure they’re just the usual heroic legends we hear about all the time.”

At some point, it hit me that Frieza has an interest in this sort of thing.  Not that he’s particularly fond of alien legends, but the characters in those stories the only thing that can possibly challenge his power.  So he seems to make a point out of learning about those mythical heroes whenever he can, just so he can weigh the risks of the legends coming true.

And maybe if the Saiyans were more devoted to him, like Zarbon and Dodoria, maybe Frieza might have chosen to ignore the Super Saiyan tale.  But he knows the Saiyans hate his guts, and he probably only kept them around as long as he did because his father had gotten so much use out of them.  And he might have been willing to keep the Saiyans alive a while longer, but then you have to factor in Beerus’s command to destroy them.  So in this story, Frieza asks if all the Saiyans are back home yet, and his men report that most of them will return within a month, but they’ll have to wait for stragglers if they plan to get them all.  Frieza won’t do it, though.  He plans to destroy Planet Vegeta one month later, and he can deal with the handful of survivors later.  He can just tell them Planet Vegeta got hit by a meteor. 

The story doesn’t spell it out, but I think Frieza accelerated his plans because he didn’t want to risk angering Beerus.  Not that Beerus was going to show up a month later to check his work, but Frieza had no way of knowing for sure, so better to blow 99% of the Saiyans away as soon as possible. 

And this is what saved Saiyans like Vegeta and Raditz.  Well, that, and the fact that Vegeta had no intention of obeying the order to return home.  Maybe he had the same suspicions as Bardock, or he just felt like he should defy Frieza wherever possible.  In this case, he could get away with ignoring the order, so he chose to ignore the order. 

As for Bardock, he finds his wife Gine chopping meat in his home village.  The narration informs us that the Saiyan population is only several thousand strong.  They’re warlike, so their population doesn’t increase too easily.  That sounds kind of vague, but interpret it as you will.  Bardock embraces Gine and asks about their children, which I think rubbed some fans the wrong way.  Gine wasn’t even in the TV Special, so the idea of Bardock being a loving husband and father bugged some people.  Hell, I think some fans can’t stand the idea of Bardock being anything other than a relentless badass.

Gine explains that Raditz has already been sent out into the field, with Prince Vegeta as his partner.  As for Kakarot, he’s been in an incubation tank for three years, and it’s almost time to take him out.  As he looks at Kakarot, Bardock resolves to steal a space pod and send the boy to another planet. 

Now, this also bugged some fans, because this directly contradicts what Raditz told Goku about how and why he ended up on Earth.  According to Raditz, Saiyan babies were tested for their combat potential, and those with the worst scores were sent to relatively defenseless planets, where they could either die alone or conquer with a bit less of a disadvantage.  Saiyan elites, like Raditz, Nappa, and Vegeta, were allowed to remain on Planet Vegeta and receive proper training and resources, so that they could fight as part of the Saiyan military. 

Dragon Ball Minus flips that idea on its head.  Yes, Raditz was correct about the Saiyan practice of “infiltration babies”, as Gine puts it.  That is a thing Saiyans do with their weakest children.   However, in this case, Bardock is using that practice without permission.  Instead of waiting around for the authorities to decide where to assign baby Kakarot, Bardock is going to send him to Earth, just to keep him safe from anything Frieza might be planning. 

And, perhaps unintentionally, these differences provide a critique of “Father of Goku.”  Like I said earlier, the only real purpose of giving Bardock visions of the future was to make him sympathetic.  He could foresee Frieza’s treachery and realize he was doomed, but he could also foresee his son thriving on Earth, eventually rising up to avenge his people. 

But Dragon Ball Minus cuts the Gordian Knot in half with a sword.  Why does Bardock need psychic powers to predict Frieza destroying the Saiyans?  The Saiyans have resented Frieza from the beginning, so why would they expect anything less than treachery from him?  Bardock doesn’t need the gift of prophecy to figure this out.  He just needs to pay attention to what’s going on around him.  And as for his son, maybe Bardock could just care about Kakarot from the beginning. He doesn’t need to see visions of Goku growing up on Earth.  He can just see the baby floating helplessly in an incubator and then imagine what will happen to him if he’s still on Planet Vegeta when Frieza makes his move. 

And this might irritate some Bardock fans, but at least this way he gets some agency and character development.   The dirty little secret about “Father of Goku” is that Bardock is a puppet of fate in that special.  The Kanassan is destined to give him the curse of foresight.  And once Bardock has that curse, he’s powerless to prevent Planet Vegeta’s destruction.  He sees Goku’s future, and seems to approve, but he has no control over that either.  Others make the decision to launch Goku into space, and so everything Bardock does in the special is futile. 

Sure, “Father of Goku” kind of works because of that futility.  I’d argue that “futility” is a theme of the story. That’s what makes it dark.  But I prefer Toriyama’s take, where Bardock suspects that he’s already doomed, but he still gets to make a choice to do something about it.  By sending Goku to Earth, Bardock gets to make a difference, even if he doesn’t realize how big a difference it will be. 

As they prepare the pod for launch, Gine asks why they don’t just all leave the planet in pods, and Bardock explains that Frieza would just track them down with scouters.  Kakarot, with his miniscule power level, can escape, but they’re trapped here, on Planet Vegeta, while they wait to find out what Frieza has planned for them all.  The two of them say their goodbyes, and Gine makes plans to contact Raditz to tell him where they’ve sent Kakarot.  She also promises to retrieve the boy if Bardock’s fears turn out to be unfounded.  But we know how that will turn out. 

So they watch the pod leave in an emotional scene. 

But the launch has not gone unnoticed.  The Galactic King has discovered the Saiyan invader heading toward Earth, so he orders Jaco to intercept it.   He clearly isn’t too concerned about the matter, though, since he regards Jaco as one of his least reliable Patrollers, and the Earth as a backwater planet of little importance.  I guess he sort of cares, but not enough to send the best.

But we already saw how Jaco handled that mission.  He missed Kakarot’s arrival on Earth, and he was adopted by Son Gohan instead, and grew up to become Son Goku, who would confront Frieza on Namek.  And now you know.... the rest of the story.   Paul Harvey... Good Day?

So that wraps up Jaco.  The only real issue I see with all of its retcons to Dragon Ball lore is the fact that Jaco has such close ties to the Brief family, and he even gives Dr. Brief his spaceship to reverse engineer, and yet this never came up in the Namek Saga, when the good guys desperately needed a way to travel through space.   Instead they use Kami’s old spaceship, which took a month to make the trip, and then Dr. Brief reverse engineered Goku’s space pod, which made the journey in six days.  Maybe Jaco’s ship was slower?  Or they just forgot about it?  Oh well. 

I’ll be taking a break for a couple weeks, and when I get back, we’ll star in on Dragon Ball Super. Until then, keep watching the skies.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

💄 Anomalous: Chapter Six

Anomalous: You are attending a make-up artist convention in London, England for your work as a MUA yourself. Little do you expect to meet a handsome stranger at a bar, proceed to ditch your friends with him, have a one-night stand, and then flee because you are late for a convention event. Unbeknownst to you, that will not be the last time you see that handsome stranger, and now that you think about it… you really should have gotten his number. 

Warnings: None.

To Note: Tom Sturridge x MUAFem!Reader, Respect The Actor! (This is Fiction), Reader has long hair for reasons, You can thank @pinksirensong for this lovely mini series.

Word Count: ~3.1k

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“So did we get one, or did we not get one?” Neil asked the other producers who were loitering around on the set of The Sandman. The scene they had to shoot today required a deft hand in the world of VFX makeup. They had makeup artists on set, obviously, but not one trained in VFX makeup which they needed to shoot this scene. Justin came trotting over, cell phone in hand and nodding.

“Right, right, okay, see you.” He hung up and addressed Neil. “That was the travel company, her plane landed and she’s currently on her way to set.”

“Yes but does she know the looks we want?” Neil fussed, sighing and running a hand over his mouth and chin. “She’s of no use to me if she isn’t familiar with the design we’re going for.”

“I sent her the test designs we picked out,” Justin reassured Neil. “And we’ve both seen her portfolio. Her portfolio is excellent and so are her blending abilities. Agnes wouldn’t recommend her if she didn’t think that she was up to the task.” Neil still wasn’t sure, but they were out of options and in order to avoid delaying the production, he was going to have to put his trust in the artist Agnes had suggested. He walked over to the chair that Tom was lounging in, already dressed in his costume as the Dream Lord.

“Justin’s got word that the artist is on her way,” He explained, this time running a hand through his hair. “Should be here soon and then we can get started on a few test scenes to see if her work fits.” Tom hummed in agreement and rested his chin on his hand, his mind once again drifting. Everyone on set knew that Tom had been mooning over someone, it had become apparent at the table readings for the scripts. It was sensitive topic among the cast because once someone got Tom started on the woman named Sunday? Tom would not shut up about her.

“How’d you find one so quickly?” Tom mused in question, his dark eyebrows bunching together inquisitively. They had lost their head VFX makeup artist only days ago, how had they found one that the producers agreed upon, so soon?

“Agnes from costume knew someone, recommended her. Her schedule was clear so we asked, said yes.” Neil explained, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I saw her work, she’s good, we’ll see how good she is soon enough.”

You were jet lagged, your eyes burned viciously from staying up for over twenty four hours, and you were pretty sure that your blood had turned into coffee with how much you had shoved down your throat in the last twenty four hours in an effort to stay awake. But you had memorized every detail of the work you were going to do, had mapped it out in your head how to layer the design, and had familiarized yourself with the script. You wanted to know more about who you were bringing to life then just learning the name. Dream of the Endless. A very complex character, albeit very egotistical, but according to the notes and scripts, he was getting better. Sort of.

You knew that he was meant to have pasty white skin kissed by stardust (which you were responsible for), eyes that glowed with stars, and hair darker than night. Dream’s description reminded you a lot of a certain someone you spent a lot of time trying to forget. Seven months and you still though of your first and only one night stand… was that even normal? Probably not… but you could not forget the inhumanely beautiful man you had spent a night with.

Rubbing your eyes, you thanked the security officer that had led you through the building to The Sandman set where you would be working for the next few days. You had been told that today would be a day for test shots to see how well you did on the make up and if Neil and the producers wanted you to adjust anything. Hopefully it would go smoothly. Adjusting the strap of your makeup bag with your personal tools, you breezed onto the set. Justin trotted over to you and led you through a throng of people milling around.

“Pleasure to meet you in person, Miss Y/L/N,” Justin said happily. “Sorry for rushing you but if we delay this any longer we’ll have to redo our entire filming schedule.”

“Not a problem,” You softly answered as he brought you over to the makeup area. Your eyes did a quick glance at who you’d be working with and you were instantly doing a double take and faltering in step. Luckily you didn’t trip and land on your face. Good. God!

“So this is Tom Sturridge and he plays Dream, I’m sure you’ll get along!” Justin exclaimed as you stared wide eyed at Tom who was now looking at you like an over eager puppy, his shock very quickly dissipating.

“Yes, I’m sure,” You replied before hurrying forwards and getting to work. You needed the distraction. Your hands quickly opened the cases of special effects makeup that you would be working with, and with a glance at Tom to take stock of how his skin complexion was, you saw him open his mouth.

“I have been searching for you every—“ You jumped forwards, slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Not right now,” You nearly hissed out, your cheeks and neck feeling like they were on fire. Your embarrassment was flooding to every part of your body. Tom wilted like a kicked puppy, but he wasn’t going to give up and went to protest.

“But—“ You flung a finger in his face and cut him off once more.

“No,” You told him sternly, watching his over eager puppy state turn into one that was pouting. My god this manwas going to be the death of you! Ignoring the stares from the people around you (and the stare coming from the man that haunted your dreams), you prepped his skin and added a layer of primer to his skin so the editing team would have an easier time working their magic later. Then you carefully placed the facial tracking makers. You had to tilt his face around to make sure that they were lined up correctly (all the while ignoring the looks he was giving you which was immensely hard).

But you managed to do your job without further incident even though you knew that Tom was practically having to sit on his hands to behave. He wanted to touch you so bad, he wanted his mind to know that you weren’t a figment of his imagination. At least he was aware of it.

“You’re done,” You told him, brushing your fingers along his cheek to check that the facial tracking makers were attached properly. Pulling back, you cleaned up your supplies and recapped your jars. While you were busying yourself, Tom stood up and loomed next to you, staring intently at you until you noticed and looked back at him. He was giving you that look again, you know, the smolder. You swallowed hard. “What is it?”

“We need to talk,” Tom told you quietly, reaching for one of your hands. His fingers curled against yours and played with them as he struggled internally to not flat out pull you into his arms and hug you and kiss your face repeatedly and— you were right, this was not the place to do that… no matter how much he wanted to. You pursed your lips, that haunting guilt filling you once more. Oh yes, yes you did need to talk.

“Okay,” You replied, your eyes dropping down because you couldn’t bare to look him in the face anymore. Tom’s other hand rose and pushed your chin upwards so you had to look him in the eyes. You nearly shivered at his touch.

“Do you want to talk?” He then asked you, not wanting to push you into something you might not even want. Your tired eyes flickered with fatigue.

“I— yes, I would like to talk.” You answered meekly. That was good. That was very good. But Tom didn’t like the way your eyes were tinted with red nor did he like the bags beneath them. Hadn’t Justin mentioned they were flying someone in? When was the last time you had slept? Or gotten quality sleep?

“We can talk in my dressing room,” Tom murmured, leaning over you and resisting the urge to press his lips against yours once more. At the very least being this close to you and smelling your perfume once more eased his internal fidgeting. Though he really wanted to bury his face in your hair at the moment. Tom ran his fingers across the arch of your cheekbone, his gaze pinching in distaste at your exhaustive state. “And you should take a nap, love, you look three seconds away from falling asleep.”

“I have paper work to do,” You argued back before glancing in the direction of the set. They were waiting for him, and staring at you. Good grief did everyoneneed to stare!? “Speaking of which, you need to get on set, they are waiting for you and it is going to be a long day I think.”

His eyes narrowed briefly at you.

“Dressing room, Sunday,” He told you sternly before striding away. You shivered at the nickname and briefly remembered what that fateful night had been like all those months ago. Calling you Sunday? He certainly remembered what had happened between you. Stop it Y/N! You’re on the job! Your eyes followed him, watching in fascination at how his walk transformed from Tom, to Dream of the Endless. You finished cleaning up your supplies and trotted over to Justin and the man you were pretty sure was Neil Gaiman.

“Satisfactory?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at Justin. “The facial tracking markers are easy enough to adjust if you encounter problems for the software. Won’t even take five minutes.”

“Agnes was right,” Justin beamed. “You are good at what you do.”

“Wouldn’t make a living out of being a VFX artist if I wasn’t,” You shrugged before looking at Neil. “So, Mr. Gaiman, is there anything you would like me to change?”

“At the moment? No, we’ll do some screen tests today and see if anything needs adjustments tonight with editing, but I’m liking what I am seeing so far.” Neil told you as you caught Agnes charging at you out of the corner of your eyes. You just barely managed to brace yourself from her practically throwing her body into your arms.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed happily. “You accepted! Oh I was so hoping you would because this is right in your wheelhouse!” You patted her on the back before dislodging her from your body. Agnes then squinted at you. “Speaking of which, how do you know Tom? Cause girl, we all can see that you know each other!!”

Your cheeks flooded with heat once more and you floundered in place, clearing your throat and trying not to look into her eyes.

“We’ve met before.” You admitted, seeing those around you giving you nosy side eyes. Agnes narrowed her eyes, clearly wanting more information. “That’s all I’m telling you.” You told her, not wanting to tell her too much because when it came to Agnes? She was a total chatter box and did not know how to keep her mouth shut. She pouted at you and you crossed your arms, ignoring the stares that you received. You looked to Justin and Neil once more. “Do you need me for anything else?”

“Nope,” You decided Justin was far too cheerful for your taste.

“Well, it you’ll excuse me, I have a promise to keep and paper work to finish.” You turned around and marched towards the dressing room section, ignorant to the looks Neil and Justin exchanged.

“I’m pretty sure she’s the woman Tom’s been mooning over.” Neil commented, remembering the way Tom had immediately perked up when he spotted you. His pout had disappeared in an instant. That was no coincidence.

“You see the way he turned into a puppy when he spotted her?” Justin chuckled. “He is whipped.”

You ended up in Tom’s dressing room and spent a solid five minutes taking in the fact that Tom was an actor, and apparently a famous one…. and you were going to be working with him for the next several months. Not to mention you had slept with him! Fuck! You didn’t know if this was a good or bad thing but what you did know, was that you had some explaining to do. You sat down on the little sofa he had and did some paper work to pass time. But your eyes were burning so bad and you were struggling to keep them open, you set the paperwork on a nearby table and leaned your head against a jumper thrown over the side of the armrest. It smelled just like Tom, and it was all too easy for you to close your eyes and then fail to open them again.

Tom had made sure that his acting was perfect and on point, with no goofing off, to reduce the number of takes he had to do this day. Plain and simple, he was eager to see you again and hoped that you would be in his dressing room like you promised. He’d already lost you once, he’d rather not lose you again… at least not without fully talking with you. So when he entered his dressing room and didn’t see you standing around, his hopes were almost dashed. But then he spotted you passed out on his sofa, snoozing away with your face buried in one of his jumpers.

You had stayed.

The joy that bloomed within his chest was quickly fading when he saw how exhausted you looked. Your face had a sickly pallor, the bags beneath your eyes pronounced. You appeared to be run ragged and he did not like that. Quietly walking over to where you were dead to the world, Tom ran his fingers along your cheek, stroking the signs of your exhaustion in distaste once more. Had you been overworking yourself? You murmured and shifted beneath his gentle touches before your eyes peeled open and you blinked. Then you seemed to realize that Tom was standing in front of you and jerked into a sitting position. You stared wide eyed at Tom once more as he blinked at you. You blinked back, your face filling with sheer, unadulterated, embarrassment.

“First things first, do you think that what happened was a mistake? Because if you do, that’s okay, we can keep things professional.” Tom told you, silently hoping that you were going to say no, that night wasn’t a mistake. Your eyes left his as you chewed your lip.

“I was in London for a makeup convention for work,” You answered ever so softly. “I realized I was late for an early morning convention talk and panicked.” At your admittance you shriveled in place, pushing your hands into your tired face. “I did not mean to run out on you, I swear I didn’t. All I could think about was that I was missing the talk… and my entire reason for being in London was for that convention, my work… and I was going to be late…” Tom could have sworn that his heart swelled to infinite proportions at your words and reached to pull your hands from your face. He could see the clear embarrassment on your lovely features and was determined to rid it from your face. So he pulled your face to his and kissed you.

At first you were shocked, very shocked. You had spent so many hours thinking about how he would react if you ever crossed paths with him again. Him kissing you was not a scenario you had thought about. But you were more than happy to kiss back. So parting your lips, you caught his mouth in yours and slipped a hand into his hair to pull him closer. Lips pushing against his, you kissed Tom with the ferocity of a starving woman, and he kissed you back all the same. His tongue flicked across your lower lip shortly before sliding against yours. You softly moaned and Tom ate that precious sound up, drinking all that he could from your mouth and pressing infinity closer to you.

No one had ever kissed you like this. Like you were the very object of their envy and more. Like they could never get enough of the taste of your tongue, or the softness of your lips. The way he kissed you made it feel like you had been apart for decades rather than months. Teeth lightly caught your lower lip and you moaned once more, your fingers tightening around the strands they were wrapped around. Tom used your beautiful moan to slip his way further into your mouth, consuming every little exquisite noise you made. He could have sworn that he was getting drunk off your taste alone. He continued to kiss you, ravish your mouth with his, until you were getting lightheaded. Even then you didn’t want to stop.

But then someone had to go and loudly knock on the door shouting for Tom and saying that Neil needed to talk to him for a quick minute. Tom growled into your mouth as you pulled back, displeased with the interruption while your face seared with heat. Your eyes instantly went to his messy hair, which you had, somehow, managed to make messier.

“Shit,” You squealed, eyes going round while your fingers wildly combing through the dark strands in an effort to neaten it up some. Tom chuckled at your efforts and reached up to take one of your hands.

“My hair is always messy on set, Y/N, it’s part of the look,” Tom reassured you. You were, in fact, not reassured, and scowled at him.

“It looks way worse than that Tom!” You exclaimed in embarrassment. “There is purposefully messy hair and then there is messy hair!” He found your panic somewhat endearing, and took hold of both wrists. Then he gently kissed your fingers before pulling you to your feet and wrapping an arm around your back.

“You are worrying, love,” Tom soothed, holding you nice and close while pressing his forehead against yours. You were grumpy, and tired, but being within his arms once more felt ever so nice and you didn’t feel like putting up much of a fight.

“Okay, okay, but hands to yourself on the set, this is a job,” You pointed out, giving him a firm but gentle look. Tom massaged your palm while staring into your eyes adoringly. You felt like rolling your eyes because when it came down to facts? You hardly knew each other. What you did know, was that you and Tom fit like two peas in a pod and if you were going to spend time with anyone, you wanted it to be with him. Smiling happily, Tom took your hand and led you to the door of his dressing room. “Uh, Tom, he said that Neil wanted you, not you and me.” You pointed out as he tugged you along.

Tom looked back at you with a puppy look and you gave him a look. Then he pouted and released your hand begrudgingly. You both exited his dressing room and as Tom confidently strode away, you felt with the stares of people who knew exactly what you two had been doing within that room. Puffy lips aside. You had a feeling that everyone on set knew that you and Tom had history.

Date Published: 12/31/22

Last Edit: 5/29/23

Previous | Masterlist | Next

[linalilia]

[meet the prisoners!] prisoner 009: kuroki riku

HE'S HERE i was so excited to post him tbh. i'm not sure if i'm satisfied with his design and i feel like i could do more with it, but for now.. it's fine, i can work with it.

also, his image color was supposed to be a dark shade of green at first, but then i was like. it probably won't look that original because i already have asahi and naomi (yes, naomi's color is closer to teal and asahi's color is very bright compared to what i planned for riku, but still) and i'm still salty because of how similar akio and shun's colors turned out to be, so. yes, he's an orange boy now. and i feel like it fits his personality better!

General info:

Name: Kuroki Riku (黒木俐暮) (his last name means "black" and "tree" and his first name means "sharp, clever" and "evening, dusk")

Age: 17 y/o

Gender: Male

Status: Prisoner 009

Birthday: April 7 (Aries)

Blood type: AB

Height: 173 cm

Image color: #FF8746

Occupation: High school student (second year)

Personality: If Kei is the most extroverted male prisoner, then Riku is a close second. He's very friendly, outgoing and if anyone wants to talk about anything, he's always there to do just that and he's okay with both talking and simply listening. Also there's just something about him that just makes him impossible to hate, Riku even managed to convince Akio to become friends with him. No wonder he was the most popular boy in his school and he had so many fans and secret admirers. Even though Riku seems like the chill type, he's actually surprisingly rebellious, though some people can tell that from his appearance: they're sure he got in trouble multiple times because of him going to a school with a strict dress code and having a style like that. Riku is okay with doing anything if it means he won't have to deal with something he doesn't like/doesn't want to happen: after he was told that he can get voted guilty, he simply flirted with one of the guards and successfully made her want to vote him innocent even though she got a bad feeling after watching his MV. Overall, Riku seems like a very nice guy, but in a place like Milgram, his kindness only makes him look even more suspicious. Riku is also very insensitive and he doesn't take things like death and murder seriously and when one of the guards warned him about the punishment he can receive after being voted guilty, he stayed calm because he thought "it won't be that bad". He also often asks other prisoners about their crimes even if they find the topic uncomfortable and he can easily turn a conversation like that into a guessing game because for him Milgram is just that: a game.

MV info:

Which canon Milgram song he would cover: Backdraft. First of all, he was in a band, I JUST KNOW HIS COVER WOULD SOUND SO GOOD and also.. Riku is actually kinda Fuuta-coded.

Which DECO*27 song he would cover: Ghost Rule BECAUSE IF WE'RE NOT GETTING A GHOST RULE COVER FROM ES MY SON WILL DO IT HIMSELF also i think it would sound nice

If he could cover a song by a different Vocaloid producer, which one would it be: .. It was so hard to find a "spoiler-free" song for him 😭😭 Like I KNOW what songs would be perfect for him, but. I think it's too early to give him something like that, so let's go with Nh-Uh-Uh by SLAVE.V-V-R for now because 1) him getting this song is really funny because Riku is a pretty loud guy and this song obviously needs a more "whispery" voice except for that one part and 2) the lyrics actually have his vibe.

His MV description:

His MV would have lots of warm colors, like yellow, orange and red, but some moments would have much darker and colder colors, like gray, black and dark green.

His MV starts with Riku and his friends preparing for a school concert and it looks like someone is taking photos of them and Riku doesn't mind, he's actually enjoying the attention. It looks like Riku is very popular: he has a lot of friends, he's the band leader and many girls want to talk to him, even though they're too shy to do that.

The concert finally starts and Riku is performing with his band. Everyone is having fun, including the band, and the chorus ends with Riku saying something like "Let me see you jump" and jumping himself, but right as he does that, he notices a white-haired boy in the crowd staring at him and showing no emotions at all. Riku looks shocked and he ends up falling, his friends look concerned and they try to help him get up. Riku continues singing, even though now he looks scared and he doesn't want to be there. After the concert, Riku is crying and his friends are trying to calm him down.

The scene suddenly changes and now we can see that white-haired boy crying in Riku's arms and even though Riku is hugging him and smiling at him, his eyes look empty and you can tell that he's not being sincere. Now Riku is sitting alone in his room and the colors are mostly gray and black. He's reading texts from his friends and we can't see most of them, but one of them makes Riku drop his phone: "Hey, but he really is talented, don't you think?" He is panicking and it's getting hard for him to breathe and he doesn't pay any attention to his phone's broken screen. He quickly grabs his guitar and the chorus starts playing again, but now Riku is singing alone in his room, without his friends, and he's still crying. He jumps in the end, just like he did that last time and he suddenly falls from his bed. It looks painful, but for some reason.. Riku starts smiling and his eyes are sparkling.

The colors are even warmer than before now and we can see Riku putting a note in somebody's locker and smiling, but something about his smile just.. doesn't feel right and it looks really creepy. Now we can see the school rooftop and Riku is standing there, waiting for someone and watching the sunset. He turns around and his smile is even wider now, it looks like that person he's been waiting for is finally here. The lyrics say that now Riku can finally tell that someone about his "true feelings".

Riku and his band are having a concert on the school rooftop, but something about all of this feels wrong. Riku's smile still doesn't look like the one he had in the beginning, his friends look just as insane as him and we can't see the person he was supposed to meet with. We can't see the audience either- oh, we're the audience actually. Hey, why is he getting so close. Hey, wasn't he supposed to do that jumping part again-

He repeats the "Let me see you jump" line, but now he's no longer smiling and he looks like he hates us. He gets close enough to the camera to push us.

Trailer 1 Voicelines:

"Hiiii!~ My name is Kuroki Riku! You've probably heard about me, I'm kinda famous online, haha. Hey, do you want an autograph? Anyway, nice to meet you- You want to know more about my crime? Well, I wouldn't call it that.. I did everyone a favor by getting rid of that person, actually."

"Hey, dude.. I know, life can be hard, but can you just.. stop venting to me all the time? Like, I would love to help you, but I'm not your therapist, you know? Come on, just calm down.. hey, I told you to stop.. JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!"

Trivia:

Murder is his only crime and he had only one victim.

He doesn't take Milgram seriously and thinks that a "guilty verdict" doesn't even exist. So yes, he thinks he'll be voted innocent.

He is very good at singing and playing the guitar and he had an interest in music since childhood. And as he mentions in his voicelines, he's very popular online and he often posts rock covers and original songs. He also wants to understand how MVs work and he would love to hear a song that the guards heard while watching his video.

Riku is a lot like younger version of Kei, if you think about it, however, Kei's reputation is much worse and he doesn't even try to act like a good person, meanwhile Riku at least appears to be someone who's very kind and his reputation is much better.

Riku always proudly says that he's friends with all the prisoners, but it's hard to say if he actually likes spending time with them or he's just being polite. You can often see him with Aimi, but if you pay attention, you'll notice that he actually looks bored and he doesn't enjoy talking to her that much. He's definitely close with Akio though and they get along really well even though their personalities are so different. It looks like Akio enjoys the attention he gets from Riku a lot and Riku is only glad to have someone he can be so affectionate with. Both of them are also surprisingly protective of each other. But Akio most likely has a soft spot for Riku simply because Riku looks a lot like his "most loyal follower". Akio and Riku also share a lot of similarities, like being popular boys, refusing to admit that they did something bad and having moments in their MVs that imply that these boys are more insecure than you would think.

The boy from Riku's MV actually didn't have any feelings for him or anything like that. He definitely was obsessed with him but not in that way.

I just think it's neat how the last male prisoner's name has a kanji that means "rising sun" meanwhile Riku's name has a kanji that means "evening". I also think it's cool because Asahi is like.. someone you would expect to have a more cute personality, but he's actually one of the most rude prisoners here, meanwhile Riku is supposed to have a more intimidating vibe because of his style but his personality isn't that bad.. but also, when you start learning more about them, you realize that Asahi is still a scared child and Riku is more cruel than you thought he is.

[newstfionline]

Sunday, November 5, 2023

Fall back: Daylight saving time (AP) Brunch dates and flag football games might be a little easier to get to this Sunday, when phones grace early-risers with an extra hour of rest before alarm clocks go off. The downside: Next week across most of the U.S., the sun will set well before many folks step foot out of the office, leaving them to run errands or take walks in utter darkness. Come Nov. 5, daylight saving time is out and standard time is in, and will last until March 10. Molly Hart, spokeswoman for AAA’s Auto Club Group, warned that there may be an uptick in accidents on the road following the time change. “With daylight savings coming to an end, what people really need to be focused on is their driving now in the afternoon when it’s darker earlier,” and when they may be feeling drowsy, she said.

Acapulco can rebuild from Hurricane Otis. But what about violent crime? (Washington Post) Before Hurricane Otis tore through this once-famed Pacific Coast resort, the Las Olas luxury condominium complex was already expecting a dismal turnout for this Día de los Muertos weekend. The wealthy owners of the oceanfront vacation homes were too afraid to visit. Many would-be visitors feared being robbed or kidnapped on the highway in. Then came Otis. The most powerful storm recorded in the eastern Pacific smashed into Acapulco on Oct. 25, ripping chunks out of the 16-floor building and exposing a skeleton of girders, rods and cables. Forty-six people are dead and 56 are missing, authorities said Friday; people here believe both numbers are likely significantly higher. But the Category 5 hurricane was only the latest calamity to hit Acapulco. The coronavirus pandemic kept visitors away. And organized criminal groups have made the city a battleground. At least 16 crime syndicates are active in Guerrero state, according to Defense Ministry documents, trafficking drugs, extorting businesses and conducting kidnappings. They exert such control that when two alleged drug traffickers were arrested in July, thousands of people besieged Chilpancingo, the state capital, to demand their release.

In Shetland, the Hottest Event of the Year Stars Sheep and Knitters (NYT) The sheep came spilling over the hillside, emerging through the low mist where the green earth touched the gray sky, running down into the fields below. They were ready for their big moment. It was Shetland Wool Week, and visitors from around the world—most of them women and nearly all of them knitting enthusiasts—were streaming to the Shetland Islands, a far-flung archipelago north of the Scotland mainland, to see the famed fleeces. The weeklong festival, established in 2010, is both a way to spread a cherished tradition of knitting and celebrate the local culture, and a commercial opportunity for the area’s sheep farmers, wool spinners and craftspeople. “What Shetland Wool Week did was offer us a shop window to an international audience, which we probably would have had great difficulty finding,” said Ronnie Eunson, who established Uradale Farm decades ago. “It’s a whole new world, these ladies who knit.” Across the islands, knitters were everywhere, with the rhythmic click of metal needles providing the background soundtrack to island life.

Storm Ciarán brings record rainfall to Italy with at least 6 killed. European death toll rises to 14 (AP) Record-breaking rain produced floods in a vast swath of Italy’s Tuscany region as Storm Ciarán pushed into the country overnight, trapping residents in their homes, inundating hospitals and overturning cars. At least six people in Italy and one person in Albania were killed on Friday, bringing the storm’s death toll to 14 across Europe this week. Throughout the day, the storm brought more death and destruction as it moved eastward across the continent. In Albania, police said a motorist died when he lost control while driving a car, which slid and hit barriers. Many roads in the country were flooded, including in the capital, Tirana. Huge waves pummeled the Adriatic shores of the Balkans, and strong winds uprooted trees and ripped off roofs.

Russia steps up its aerial barrage of Ukraine (AP) Russia unleashed a wave of nighttime drone and missile attacks across 10 of Ukraine’s 24 regions, Ukrainian authorities said Friday as they prepare for another winter of infrastructure bombardment by the Kremlin’s forces. Ukraine’s air force said it intercepted 24 of 38 Shahed drones and one Kh-59 cruise missile launched by Russia. The attacks caused fires in homes and public buildings, especially in the southern Kherson region which Moscow has increasingly targeted in recent weeks, emergency services said. Authorities reported that two people were injured. Last winter, Russia took aim at Ukraine’s power grid in an effort to deny civilians light and heating and chip away at the country’s appetite for war. Ukrainian officials accused the Kremlin of weaponizing winter.

Earthquake in Western Nepal Kills More Than 150 (NYT) Search and rescue operations continued in Nepal on Saturday after a powerful midnight earthquake in the country’s west killed at least 157 people and left hundreds injured, government officials said. Rescuers were working to push through roads blocked by landslides and debris to reach the mountainous villages where the earthquake struck. Officials cautioned that the death toll was likely to rise as communication was restored with areas that had been cut off.

Israel deports thousands of Palestinian workers back to Gaza’s war zone (AP) Israel on Friday deported thousands of Palestinian workers from the Gaza Strip back to the besieged territory, Palestinian authorities said, capping what many described as harrowing weeks trapped in legal limbo since their detention when the Israel-Hamas war erupted. Some workers, streaming by foot through an Israeli crossing that had been sealed shut since Hamas unleashed its brutal attack on southern Israel Oct. 7, told of violent mistreatment by Israeli authorities in detention centers. “We sacrificed and they treated us like livestock over there,” one of the workers, Wael al-Sajda, said from the border, pointing to his ankle fitted with an identification bracelet. Al-Sajda was among the roughly 18,000 Palestinians from Gaza allowed to work in menial jobs in Israel. The workers sent home on Friday talked about a massive roundup and being placed in Israeli prisons. Some returned with bruises and other wounds from what they said was abuse at the hands of Israeli authorities. Others returned psychologically scarred. At least one, 61-year-old Mansour Warsh Agha, returned in a body bag.

Many are killed near a Gaza hospital, in a strike the Israelis say was aimed at Hamas. (NYT) An Israeli airstrike hit near the entrance of Al Shifa Hospital in Gaza City on Friday, killing multiple people, according to Gazan and Israeli officials, just as Palestinians said a convoy of ambulances was preparing to leave the hospital carrying wounded people to the Gaza border, to cross into Egypt for treatment. The Israeli military said it had carried out the strike on an ambulance “being used by a Hamas terrorist cell,” adding in a statement that “a number of Hamas terrorist operatives were killed in the strike.” An Israeli military spokesman, Maj. Nir Dinar, confirmed that it was the same strike that caused the explosion outside the hospital. The head of Al Shifa Hospital, Dr. Mohammad Abu Salmiya, said that 15 people had been killed and 60 were injured.

The average Palestinian in Gaza is living on 2 pieces of bread a day, UN official says (AP) The average Palestinian in Gaza is living on two pieces of Arabic bread made from flour the United Nations had stockpiled in the region, yet the main refrain now being heard in the street is “Water, water,” the Gaza director for the U.N. agency for Palestinian refugees said Friday. Thomas White, who said he traveled “the length and breadth of Gaza in the last few weeks,” described the place as a “scene of death and destruction.” No place is safe now, he said, and people fear for their lives, their future and their ability to feed their families. The Palestinian refugee agency, known as UNRWA, is supporting about 89 bakeries across Gaza, aiming to get bread to 1.7 million people, White told diplomats. But, he said, “now people are beyond looking for bread. It’s looking for water.” White pointed to other major problems. Sewage is not being treated and instead is being pumped into the sea, he said. “But when you speak to municipal workers, the reality is once their fuel runs out, that sewage will flow in the streets.”

African Freedom of travel (Foreign Policy) In a growing trend across the continent, Rwandan President Paul Kagame announced on Thursday that Kigali will no longer require travel visas for Africans who want to enter the country. Kagame hopes the move will boost intracontinental tourism at a time when 60 percent of Africa’s tourists come from outside the continent. Gambia, Benin, and Seychelles have already waived visa requirements for Africans. And on Monday, Kenya signaled that it would also cancel similar travel visas by Dec. 31. The moves mark the continent’s latest efforts in a yearslong campaign to strengthen Africa’s trade and tourism revenue, complementing the launch of an African passport in 2016 and the African Continental Free Trade Area in 2019.

A teen died. Now his friends visit his grandma for breakfast each week. (Washington Post) Peggy Winckowski’s alarm goes off at 5 a.m. every Wednesday. It’s time for her to make her famed pancake batter, fry up bacon and eggs, and chop fresh fruit. By 7 a.m., about 30 hungry teenagers arrive at her home in St. Louis, ready for breakfast. They have showed up every Wednesday of the school year since October 2021. “They all give me a hug as they come in,” said Winckowski, 66. “They call me ‘Grandma Peggy.’” The “Wednesday Breakfast Club” tradition came about after Sam Crowe—Winckowski’s grandson—then a freshman at Bishop DuBourg High School, floated the idea to his friends. The school has a later start on Wednesday mornings, and Crowe and his classmates typically went to a diner to have breakfast before class. One Wednesday morning at the diner, Sam told his friends that his Grandma Peggy makes a better breakfast than the restaurant. So, after checking with his grandmother—who eagerly offered to host her grandson’s friends for breakfast—a small group of high school students showed up at Winckowski’s house the following Wednesday morning. And then every Wednesday since. In July 2022, when Sam was killed in a car crash at age 15, the students grieved with Grandma Peggy. She told them they were still welcome for breakfast. More students than ever showed up. Winckowski’s home can get crowded, she said, but they make it work. Aside from Wednesdays, some students stop by to visit Winckowski on other days, too. “It melts my heart every time they show up,” Winckowski said. “I’ve lost my 15-year-old grandson, but in his place, Sam gave me 30 extra grandbabies,” she continued. “I think Sam is directing this from above.”

[leiawritesstories]

Hi leia, hope you're having a great day❣️, I've got this idea, but I don't know if you already done it, here it is anyway,

Rowan coming home and finding Aelin had dyed her hair like this

Thank you!

oh my gosh I'm crying laughing imagining it right now, thank you so much for the prompt! 

word count: 1,150

warnings: 

What Have You Done With Aelin?!

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

Aelin had an idea. 

A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. 

Which, in her book, was the best kind of idea. 

She’d been seeing so many photos of girls who dyed their hair dark but left blonde pieces right at the front all over her Instagram, and the idea had begun to form when she wondered how much it would cost to temporarily dye her hair the same way. So of course, she texted Lysandra, her best friend and favorite hairdresser. And Lys told her that for her, she’d do it for free, if only to see the look on Rowan’s and Aedion’s faces when they saw Aelin’s hair color. 

Rowan was at work. It was Aelin’s day off--she’d set her schedule so she worked four days a week in the office and was home the fifth day and had time on weekends to unofficially work on projects--and hell, now was as good a time as any. She had all day to get her hair done and get used to the color, and all the rest of the day to plan how best to surprise her boyfriend. 

So she called Lysandra. 

“Yeah?” Lys picked up on the third ring. 

“Lys, can you dye my hair?” 

Silence on the other end. Then, “YOU’RE GONNA DO IT?!” 

“Hell yeah,” Aelin laughed. “You said you had temporary dyes and I want to see Ro’s face. I’m doing it.” 

“Come on over,” Lys all but demanded. “I don’t have another client until three, we’re gonna do your hair.” 

Aelin was at the salon where her best friend worked less than fifteen minutes later. Lys met her at the door, babbling excitedly about what color they were going to do and how Rowan was going to fall over and have a heart attack. 

“Slow down,” Aelin laughed. “I’ve barely got to the part where you show me the color before I let you put it on my head.” 

“Bitch,” Lys snickered, swatting her arm. She opened the sliding glass door to her salon studio. “Come on in.” 

Aelin dropped her purse on the side table and settled into the chair. “Okay, let’s do this.” 

Lys’s grin was positively gleeful. “Okay, so I’ve got a bunch of temporary dyes, most of them last a week to two weeks, or we could just do spray color, which will rinse out when you wash your hair.” She produced an armful of bottles in varying shades of dark brown. “What do you think?” 

“I want to do the temporary dye,” Aelin grinned. “Keep the color for a week or so and make Rowan very uncomfortable.” 

“That’s my girl.” Lys put the spray color away. “Now. How dark do you want to go?” She lined up the dyes in order from a golden brown to nearly black. “If you do lighter, the color will fade faster because it’s closer to your natural color.” 

Aelin considered the row of colors. “Dark, but not black.” She trailed her finger over the darker brown shades, landing on one that was a rich, deep shade, darker than her friend’s color. “This one.” 

Lys grinned like a madwoman. “We’re gonna have fun with this.” 

~

A couple hours later, Aelin left the salon with her hair nearly all dark, save for the few strands by her face that she’d left her natural blonde. Lys had dried and curled her hair after the dye, so it lay in natural, soft waves around her shoulders, the dark strands so foreign and yet...she liked it. 

She loved it. 

Rowan was going to lose his shit. 

Once she got home, she settled into their office to get a few things done on a project she was working on. As a marketing rep specializing in advertisements, she was responsible for designing ads for her clients, and right now she was juggling two bigger clients along with a handful of other, not quite as big-name, projects. Even on her day off, she had to tweak her ideas and write or sketch down anything that came to her mind. 

With her notes down, she shut her laptop and sauntered into the kitchen, thinking she’d make some dinner for when Rowan got home. She may not have been the greatest cook, but she was capable of making a number of foods without burning up the kitchen. And Rowan loved ramen bowls, which was one of the few things she was actually good at making. 

Probably because it didn’t involve much cooking. 

So she whipped up a couple bowls of noodles and chopped up their favorite toppings and had everything ready when Rowan’s car pulled into the driveway around six-thirty. 

“I’m home, Fireheart!” he called from the entryway, his shoes thudding onto the shoe rack as he took them off. “And I smell--” His words cut off abruptly as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. 

And found Aelin leaning against the countertop, wearing his favorite metallic golden nightgown, grinning fiendishly. 

“What the holy fuck?!” he gasped in a strangled sort of shock, freezing to his spot, the travel mug in his hand clattering to the floor. 

“Buzzard?” she asked, knotting her brows together in completely feigned worry, as if she didn’t know why he was so stunned. “What’s the matter?” 

“I--you--that’s--” He’d been reduced to spluttering. “Who are you and what have you done with Aelin?” he croaked, still gaping at her with his jaw slack. 

Aelin innocently smoothed her hands down the silk and lace of her nightgown. “Ro, you’ve seen this piece before.” 

“Fireheart,” he moaned, anguished, finally unfreezing himself and stepping towards her to reach for a lock of her hair. “Why?!” 

“Oh, the color?” she asked breezily. “I thought I’d try something different for a change.” 

Rowan dropped to his knees in front of her. Actually fell to his knees, pressing his hands together. “Please, baby, change it back,” he implored her, making his eyes wide and irresistible. 

Aelin cupped her hands around his jaw. “Ro, it’s temporary.” Her thumb stroked along his cheekbone. “Lys promised me that it would fade away within a couple of weeks.” She grinned wickedly. “It was completely worth it for the look on your face, though.” 

“You’re a menace,” he grumbled, his lips twitching. 

“Your menace,” she giggled. “Don’t you like it?” she teased, just to toy with him. 

“Nooo,” he mumbled, wrinkling his nose. “You’re--you’re not you with dark hair, Fireheart. I love you, but please don’t do that to me.” 

“Aww, did your poor old heart almost stop?” she cooed. 

“Pretty sure it did stop,” he grunted, standing back up and drawing his hands up along her sides, scrunching the material of her nightgown. “But this...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering darker. “This I have no argument against.” 

“Perfect,” she hummed, playing with the straps. “I know how much you love me in gold, buzzard.” 

That he certainly did. 

[silversatoru]

play-thing — part one

gojo satoru x getou suguru x f!reader

t/w: nsfw 18+, dark content, drugging, manipulation, noncon/dubcon, oral (f!receiving), nipple play, this story contains very dark themes so please do not read it you’re sensitive to any of these topics

synopsis: suguru and satoru are missing something in their lives, and who better to manipulate than an lonely, impressionable girl who just moved to tokyo from another city. they’re willing to take extreme measures to transform you into their perfectly submissive little play-thing. 

wc: 1.9k

suguru and satoru do everything together; live in the same house, work at the same company, even share a closet of the most expensive clothes, but something was missing. they both felt it, the empty space between them, and they were determined to find the perfect piece to fill the gaping hole in their lives.

and you practically fell right into the palm of their hands, in a local grocery store of all places. a pretty little thing with a freshly broken heart who’d just moved here from a neighboring city. no friends, no family nearby, anxious and impressionable and desperately in need of a couple capable men to show her around. it all started with an innocent question: “hey, sorry to bother you guys, but could you tell me where the baking aisle is?”

how you ended up here you still weren't quite sure. 

“let us take you on a tour of the city tonight,” satoru had cooed at you.

“there’s a few really nice bars, we could grab some drinks,” suguru added, both their voices smooth and terrifyingly persuasive.

but they seemed nice enough, and you weren't in any position to be picky with making friends right now — after all, you’d have to get accustomed to the city somehow, right?

wear something pretty, satoru had winked at you before you parted ways and continued your shopping, and for some reason you were very inclined to do as he said. they were both intimidatingly attractive and you weren’t exactly sure what their dynamic was yet, but you decided that if you ended up in bed with one of them tonight, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

you’d chosen a short and silky black dress, something elegant but classic that would absolutely catch the eyes of both men. and it did, satoru’s eyes glazing over your body several times before he even bothered to say hello to you. suguru was less obvious, his dark eyes giving you a quick once-over before giving you a warm smile and wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the three of you entered the first bar.

it was small, dimly lit with a few lanterns and packed tight with people. a little too crowded for your level of comfort, so you stuck closely to the sides of suguru and satoru as they led you deeper into the pub. the dark-haired male gestured towards an empty seat at the end of the countertop, the two of them standing on either side of you after you slid into it. satoru spoke with an impressive level of charisma, ordering three of the same drink from the bartender — who he seemed to know quite well.

taking a few sips of the liquor did wonders for you initial anxiety, and the casual conversation with both men was helping you to settle in as well. 

so, where are you from? 

what made you want to move to tokyo?

what do you do for a living? 

you were painfully oblivious to how the conversation stayed entirely centered around you; you still hadn’t learned anything about the two men, but they were learning everything about you. 

an hour or so in, a warm dizziness began to swirl around the inside of your head, slowly exacerbating until you felt like you were about to tumble out of your seat. you’d only had a couple drinks, and you normally handled your alcohol fairly well, so why did you feel absolutely sloshed right now? 

“guys, i think maybe-” you turned towards your two tour guides and crashed forward into suguru’s chest without warning. 

“think you went a little heavy, toru?” he scooped his hands under your plump ass and lifted your unconscious body into his muscularly arms. 

“not my fault she has no tolerance,” satoru shrugged, throwing some cash on the counter, “might be easier with her like this anyway”. 

“i suppose,” suguru clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “stupid girl, didn’t your parents teach you not to trust strangers so easily?”

the two of them casually made their way out of the bar together, making jokes about how poorly you handle your liquor to anyone who gave them a questionable look — but the bar was so loud and jam-packed with people that they made it out without any incident.

you were slow to come out of your sleepy haze, head nodding up and down as you struggled to maintain consciousness and take in the scenery around you. in a futile attempt to brush some hair out of your face you realized your hands were tightly secured behind your back. panic immediately flooded your system, chest tightening and hot tears brimming at the edges of your eyes. 

“just a precaution, angel,” suguru came walking into your hazy vision, a warm smile on his face as he tucked the loose strands of hair behind your ears, “how are you feeling?” 

“wha-, whaaat happen- ed?” your words were garbled, your brain barely able to form them. 

“don’t worry about it,” satoru appeared next to suguru, “you just drank a little too much, but we’ll take good care of you, won’t we suguru?” 

“of course, no need for you to worry about anything anymore,” he gave an affirmative nod. 

“i don’t think-” you wracked your brain for any recollection of what had happened tonight, but you found nothing, “i don’t th- think i — understand”. 

“you will soon,” satoru flashed a bright smile, but it wasn’t nearly as inviting as the first time you saw it. this time it was eerie, evil, threatening — what exactly was he talking about? 

your brain was quickly turning to absolute mush, your vision getting darker and foggier than it already was as you tried to hang on to the sound of their voices.

just relax

we’re gonna make you feel good, you wanna feel good, princess?

you want us to make you feel better?

“mhm,” you gave them a slow nod. you did want them to make you feel better! you felt groggy and confused and nauseas! so of course you said yes! that is what they were asking? right?

you felt the bed shift around you, several hands tracing over your skin and gently pushing you onto your back. you tried to question them, tried to form the words, but your brain was unable to produce a single word or movement at this point.

a hot tongue connected with the side of your neck, lips latched onto the skin and sucking gently on the sensitive area. another mouth was on your inner thigh, sucking a little harder and undoubtedly leaving a small marking. you subconsciously let out a squeaky, shaky breath, the warmth of their tongues eliciting a response in your doped-up body.

goosebumps raked through your body when you felt a pair of slender fingers slip under your dress and brush over the thin material of your panties. it was satoru, his middle and index fingers prodding at your clothed cunt and sending jolts through your legs. meanwhile suguru continued to cover your neck in sloppy kisses, one of his large hands groping at your covered breasts.

your brain had gone numb, from the drugs, the confusion, the terribly intoxicating pleasure. you hated how clueless you were, how useless your body was right now, but what you hated most of all was that you weren’t even trying to fight back. their touch felt good — too good for you to ask them to stop.

it wasn’t long before satoru’s fingers were replaced with his mouth, his tongue running up and down the fold in your panties and absolutely soaking the material with his saliva. he groaned from the taste, getting just as much pleasure from this as you were. he was quick to push the fabric to the side, sliding his tongue against your sticky folds with hunger and urgency. he lapped at your cunt, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue and evoking a series of twitches from your lazy body.

“be gentle with her” suguru’s voice sounded far off in the distance as he mumbled into your chest.

satoru heeded to the other man’s instructions, slowing his pace and going more gentle on your sensitive, puffy clit. suguru found your hardened nipples through your thin dress, rolling them in his fingers and enhancing the already blissful feeling you were getting from satoru’s tongue.

the two of them working together was incomprehensibly euphoric, your stomach coiling into tight knots with each swipe of his tongue. without warning he dove even deeper, his tongue shooting into your cunt while his nose rubbed against your throbbing bundle of nerves. between that and suguru giving your nipples a sudden tug, your body was crashing with waves of pleasure — strangled moans and pitiful whimpers the only sounds that your mouth could produce.

it was a near-holy experience, the feeling of the sedatives pumping through your veins as satoru tongued your pussy and suguru massaged your breasts through your heightened orgasm. you felt like you were floating, the room was spinning, and then everything went dark.

a real shame that you wouldn’t be able to remember any of it by the time you woke up.

bright sunlight pierced through your eyelids the following morning, forcing you awake and causing you to jolt up. you were laying in a large bed that was situated at the back of a rather large room, fitted silk sheets cool under your skin. confused of what happened and where you were, you stood from the bed and made your way to the door, feet patting on the soft carpeted floor. 

when you opened the door you entered a long hallway that led to a wide stairway covered in the same fluffy carpeting. two voices were laughing and talking beneath you, and curiosity fueled your motivation to walk down the stairs and into an open-concept kitchen and living room. 

satoru and suguru, the two men from yesterday were busy at the stove, pancakes and bacon sizzling away on two cast-iron pans. they wore matching aprons, suguru’s reading chef daddy, and satoru’s reading mr. good-lookin’ is cookin’. 

who the fuck were these guys?

“feeling better?” suguru was the first to notice you loitering at the edge of the room. 

“yeah, how are you? didn’t picture you to be such a heavy drinker,” satoru laughed, flipping a pancake with grace. 

you didn’t remember much, nothing past sitting down at the bar with them. you weren’t much for getting wasted but you were plagued with more stress than usual lately — maybe you really let yourself go last night. 

“ah, sorry about that, I don’t even remember what i did, honestly,” you shrugged, “thanks for looking out for me though, where’s my stuff?”

“in a hurry to leave? stay for breakfast,” suguru brushed off your question with a captivating smile, his eyes squinting together in the most adorable way. 

“we insist,” satoru chimed in, humming as he continued to focus on the sweet-smelling food. 

and so you stayed, which was probably the worst mistake that you’d made in the past twenty-four hours of countless terrible mistakes. 

part one | part two

a/n: im on a yandere/dark content kick today i cant help it. anyway if u wanna be tagged when i post part two lemme know :) and if u want some yandere megumi go read @katslutski​ ‘s tell me 

(ily kat <33 so happy to have someone to get into very specific obsessions with)

[sylvanfreckles]

Day 01: This Wasn't Supposed to Happen

Fandom: One Piece Rating: G Warnings: none

Summary: In which Roronoa Zoro has a surprisingly normal weakness, and Tony Tony Chopper vows to never give him medicine ever again.

This feeling was familiar. The dark rush of pain, the heat spreading out from the wounds in his side and leg. The hot, heavy silence pulling his mind back under.

“…ear me? Zoro?”

Roronoa Zoro reluctantly pried his eye open and found himself staring past a familiar blue nose into Chopper’s worried eyes. “’M fine.”

The little doctor let out a relieved sigh, then set his features into a sterner expression. “You are not! Your wounds are infected, we need to get you back to the ship.”

He waved to push Chopper out of the way and shoved himself up to a sitting position, pausing as the dark pulse from his wounds made his head spin. “Where’s Luffy?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. It was raining now, the dampness of his clothes adding to that strange hot/cold flush that came with an infection. Nothing he couldn’t push past, though. Not when his crew was in danger.

“Sanji and Brook went after him, but you should worry about yourself now!” A distant explosion cast the little reindeer’s face in a reddish glow. “Don’t move!”

“I’m fine,” Zoro repeated. He spat out a mouthful of blood and wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. “Really.” He tried to meet Chopper’s stare, but an itch on his forearm distracted him momentarily.

Chopper planted his medicine bag in front of Zoro and began to rummage around in it. “I already gave you a broad-spectrum antibiotic to combat the infection, but I’m not sure how quick it’ll work.”

Zoro grunted and slid around to get one knee under him. He stopped to scratch his ankle, then made a face and tugged his robe open to scratch at his chest.

“Zoro! What are you doing!” Chopper’s hooves were batting at him now, tugging at his arm. “Oh no, this wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“Eh?” Zoro stared down at his arm as Chopper fussed over it. Huh. That wasn’t normal.

He was covered in spots. Big, red, bumpy spots that brought on a horrible, burning itch. Now that he saw it, he could feel them spreading out over his chest, his legs, his face. “It’s no problem.”

“It is! You’re allergic to that medicine!”

“I can ignore it.” He started to stand again, but Chopper shoved him back down. It was only because he was awkwardly braced on one arm in the mud that he sat back down, not because anything was making him weaker than the little doctor.

“It might get worse, just hold on, I have something to treat this.”

Zoro propped an elbow on his knee to lean his chin into his fist as Chopper dug through the bag. The itching really wasn’t that bad, though when he scratched at one of the spots it left a burning pain behind instead of relieving the itch.

“Here we go!” Chopper produced a small vial of yellowish liquid. “This should do it.”

The swordsman took the vial, popped the cork off, and downed the liquid with a quick swallow. Within moments, the itch faded, though his skin still prickled and burned a bit where the raised bumps had been. Zoro closed his eye as the sensations shifted, then opened it again.

“That did it. Thanks, Chopper.” He shoved up to his feet, though he had to pause to steady himself a little. “I’ll rejoin the others.”

“Zoro?”

“I’m fine.”

“You can’t see, can you?”

He paused. While it was true that the world was darker than usual, he was almost certain it wouldn’t be permanent. And besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t fought at greater disadvantage before. “Don’t need to see.”

“Zoro!” Chopper pounded on his leg as Zoro walked away from him, toward the direction of the explosion from earlier. “Zoro!”

He ignored him, lengthening his stride so Chopper had to trot to keep up.

Chopper was in front of him now, hooves pressing against his legs to push him back. When that didn’t work, he shifted forms and there were hands on Zoro’s shoulders to hold him in place.

“You’re going the wrong way!” Chopper nearly screamed in Zoro’s ear. “That’s the edge of the cliff!”

Zoro paused. If it had been anyone but Chopper, he might have suspected they were trying to trick him into staying put…but the little doctor was far too earnest to think of that. He must have just gotten turned around standing up.

“It’s this way, then?” he asked as he turned around, though Chopper still grabbed his shoulders and didn’t let him walk away without a fight.

“Just…ugh, just hold on. Here, take this.”

Chopper pressed a smooth ball of medicine into his hand. Zoro held it up in front of his unseeing eye, catching the scent of mint and a sharp, unfamiliar herb. “What is it?”

“It’s for inflammation, the drug I gave you to counteract your allergic reaction to the antibiotic must have caused some swelling on your optic nerve.”

“I see.”

Chopper sighed. “No, you don’t, and that’s the problem. Just take it.”

Zoro shrugged and tossed the ball in his mouth, crunching through the hard shell. The herbs were bitter and made his mouth feel dry, though the mint seemed to help a little. Within a few moments, the shadows in his vision were shifting and lightening, and his vision came back just in time for another explosion to brighten up the night sky.

It was off to his left now, so Luffy must have moved the battle.

“Can you see?” Chopper asked, studying Zoro’s face.

For a moment he was completely fascinated by the reindeer’s blue nose. It was shifting a little, like he was looking at it from under water. Maybe the rain was doing it.

“’M fine,” he slurred. His voice didn’t sound right. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m fiiiine.”

“Zoro?”

His right knee buckled, and the world swirled around him. The ground seemed to twist up to meet him as Chopper’s arms warped into fuzzy tentacles that snatched at him as he fell. He could feel that the ground was solid, but to his eye it was shifting and heaving like a desert mirage. “Chop’r?”

“Oh no, oh no,” Chopper was back in his usual form, little hooves prodding at Zoro’s face. “It must be because of your alcohol tolerance.”

The world seemed to twist a slow loop around him, and he slammed his eye shut. It didn’t help. The shifting sensation was inside him, not outside.

“It’s too hard to explain, this should help.”

Chopper was pressing another vial into his hands, but Zoro hesitated. “What izzit?”

“The last medicine is effecting your blood pressure; this should help level it out.”

Zoro grunted. Blood pressure. That was one of those doctor things, right? He knew Chopper kept records to track stuff like that, so it made sense he’d have medicine on hand. He drank down the vial of medicine, which had a strong taste of garlic, and rested his forehead in his palm while the world around him slowly spun to a halt.

“Is it working?” Chopper asked, almost timidly.

He cracked his eye open, relieved when the world stayed in one place. “That’s better,” he said, resting his hand on Chopper’s head. “Thanks a lot.”

Normally, he would expect Chopper to blush and stammer that he didn’t need thanks, bastard, but he just looked up at Zoro with big, sad eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I tried to give you medicine to make you better, but I just made things worse.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Zoro rolled his shoulders and grinned down at Chopper. “Besides, my wounds feel a lot better now.”

It was probably only because the pain was being drowned out by the other side effects, but that was fine. It was all just background noise he could tune out for the battle ahead.

“I’m gonna find the others,” he continued as he pushed himself up to his feet. “We’ll meet back at…”

The world went white and he fell backward, a high-pitched noise ringing in his ears. He was barely aware of hitting the ground as all sensation seemed to fade into that rushing, screaming tone.

“Zoro!” Chopper’s hooves were on his face again, and he blinked as the doctor slowly came back into focus. Tears dripped off the blue nose. “I’m never giving you medicine ever again.”

“I’m fine,” Zoro grunted. He started to roll over but thought better of it when the high-pitched whine threatened to return. “What happened?”

“Your blood pressure must be too low now,” Chopper sobbed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why everything is just making things worse.”

Chopper had brought his bag over to Zoro’s side and dug out a small bottle of pills. He produced a pill and snapped it in half. “I’m just giving you a little of this to get your pressure up a little bit, then we need to get back to the ship so I can fix everything. I’m so sorry.”

He accepted the pill without a word, swallowing it down dry. They waited for a few moments, but there didn’t seem to be any new side effects. Chopper let out a sigh of relief and started packing his bag up.

Zoro rubbed a hand over his eyes and let out a long sigh. Then paused, staring at his arm as a third explosion rocked the island.

“Hey, Chopper?”

“Yes?”

“Never mind.”

He’d know soon enough anyway. No reason to worry the doctor prematurely. Besides, he was almost certain it was normal for those itchy spots to start turning yellow.

[ladyartemesia]

The Luna

◐ PART VII of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Series Masterlist ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐ Part VI ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)

Warnings: this one is a little darker... implied violence, mentions of blood, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming, sexual innuendo, discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries, discussions or ruts, (non-explicit) kidnapping and drugging, its not as bad as it sounds, but it is definitely a bit darker...

Word Count: 4200

Author’s Note: You have no idea what your support has meant to me. After getting the dreaded Covid it was awhile before I had the energy to work on this. Truly your asks and your messages and comments...they made me so happy. You made me believe that people wouldn’t forget about this story. I am so grateful you were able to wait. As always, my angels @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @underthejoon were the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life! I don’t know what I would do without your daily encouragement and your daily support. You guys are the heartbeat of this story. 

———◐——— 

Fifteen Years Ago...

———◐——— 

“It can’t be-”

“Run for the elders! Quickly! 

“Red smoke rises from the Luna’s hearth!”

The red smoke was invented by the first wolf known to mate a witch. Legend has it that their bond lent him some of her magic and with it he created a mystical powder that unleashed bloody plumes like knife slashes in the clouds. 

It was a distress call. 

A wolf in danger or in need could throw the powder (usually into their fireplace) and the red smoke would rise - drawing others to their aid. 

No fire was needed and the strange shimmering clouds it produced could even be seen on a moonless night. 

“What happened? Where is the Luna?”

The chief elder was still out of breath, having charged over from his chambers to find Isa in hysterics. 

“She’s gone! Something scared her! It triggered a half-shift!”

His eyes widened in fear and alarm. 

“She’s too young to half-shift. The energy it would take-”

Isa broke into sobs again. 

The girl was only five years old. She and her wolf were too volatile to merge safely. The wolf would be frightened - it would run. 

Eventually the child might regain control, but she would have no way of knowing where she was or how she got there… 

And she would be weak. The effects of the shift were too much for a pup that age. 

The chief elder felt true terror grip his heart. 

“Call for the alphas - immediately!”

Although they were technically one of the oldest bloodlines in the village, Park Clan had only five families to its name - all betas. 

Except for one. 

Park Jimin was the first alpha ever born to the Parks and as such he became the head of his family on the day of his birth - officially the youngest clan leader in history. 

When the call for alphas spread through the village, nine year-old Jimin was roused from his bed to serve on behalf of his people. 

Clan alphas were required to report, regardless of their age. 

“I don’t have to tell any of you what is at stake. Our pack has been entrusted with the Luna’s bloodline. Her safety is our sacred commission.”

The woods were no place for a child. If fluctuating temperatures and possible starvation weren’t bad enough, there were wild bears, packless ferals, rogue witches, snakes, and worst of all-

Unblessed wolves—animals without a human heart. They were by far the most pressing danger to the little girl. 

“Surely young Park can remain at home for this,” Jeon Jinseok pressed. The boy was barely older than his grandson, Jungkook, and he was reluctant to endanger another pup needlessly. 

Some quiet murmurs of assent could be heard around the elder’s chambers, however the chief elder himself shook his head sadly. 

“I understand your concern… but the law is the law. Every clan alpha is sworn to such a task. He took an oath after his first transformation-”

“He was seven-”

“An oath is still an oath.”

All eyes turned to the gentle voice in the corner. The Park alpha looked impossibly small and soft. 

But his gaze burned with determination. 

“It is my right and duty to seek the Luna alongside all of you.” His round little jaw clenched stubbornly. “I’m not afraid.”

The sound of bones and sinew shifting filled the air as one by one the clan alphas fell to their wolf forms and took off into the forest. 

Until only a small silver wolf remained. 

The chief elder sighed. 

The boy would not undergo the Change for another six years. The mental link between his wolf and human forms was not yet complete. It was difficult for information to pass from one to the other. 

“You are the wolf force of Park Jimin.”

After a moment the wolf nodded.

“You were called here because the Luna has gone missing and you must find her if you can. Search the woods until your wolf force can endure no longer and then return. If you find the child, bring her home as soon as possible.”

The young wolf nodded again and then disappeared into the night. 

It was cold. 

The last thing you remembered was a loud noise. It was too close - you panicked-

Then there was heat and pain and running and now this-

Darkness and barren trees looming over you as far as your frightened eyes could see. 

“...Hello?”

Your hands were bleeding. Tears began to slide softly down your cheek as your lips trembled. 

“H-Hello?”

Jimin had never been allowed into the forest alone. A myriad of new shapes and odd smells assaulted his senses as he ran. 

He had only seen you a handful of times. 

Bright silver eyes with a smile that could set even the coldest heart into bloom. 

Now you needed him.

And he was going to save you. 

It was not a question or a matter of chance in his mind. He was meant to find you. It was as if a thread from his chest was bound to a thread from yours and his wolf knew to follow it without question or thought for its significance. 

I’m coming, little Luna. Hold on. 

Your nose was not yet fully developed, but the stench creeping through the air toward you was unmistakable. 

Unblessed. 

A soulless wolf. 

The last time you encountered it was after a hunt. Your father killed one who attacked him and he brought it home for you to scent. 

So you could recognize the smell of danger. 

Gradually two shining eyes emerged from the darkness, yet unlike the wolves of your village, these were dark and fathomless-

Hungry. 

You couldn’t tell much about its age or coloring, it was too thin - too dirty, but the bared teeth and steady progress closer signaled its intent clearly. 

“Please,” you whispered, as it crouched back on its hind legs, preparing to strike. 

Tears blurred your vision as you heard it leap forward. 

But the strike never came. 

Another wolf tackled it to the ground before it could reach you. The two of them tangled viciously in the moonlight; a terrifying mass of snarling and claws. 

The smaller fighter was already bleeding, but he clamped down on his opponent’s throat in the first hit and hung on to it even as the animal snapped and scratched brutally at his skin. 

Jimin could feel his strength beginning to fail him. The pain was excruciating, but he had to endure. If he let go, he was lost- 

You were lost.

So he held. 

And at last the soulless wolf collapsed on top of him. 

For a moment, all was quiet. 

Jimin felt the wounds over his hide begin to tug at the edge of his consciousness. Accelerated healing could only do so much... He was hurt badly. 

Then two small hands began to push at the unblessed corpse. Small huffs and heaves poured from you as you worked to free him from beneath his defeated foe. 

“Don’t be afraid, Silver,” you grunted, “Momma says the healing works best if you can get warm.” 

With one final heave you disposed of the beast as best you could, then moved to wrap your body around your injured champion. 

“I can help,” you whispered, letting the tears fall freely. His soft whimpers were the only reply you received as you snuggled in closer, running your hands gently over the soft fur. 

The young wolf’s eyes were already beginning to lose focus. 

“Please goddess,” you begged into the night. “Please save him.”

Then the two of you drifted into a heavy sleep. 

Jimin opened his eyes again just as the dawn broke. 

He was still in wolf form, but the pain of his injuries had lessened considerably. 

Either that or he was becoming numb. 

His eyes dropped to the figure curled up next to him and his heart stirred. You were so pale… and he could feel your small body shivering violently against his chest.

She will not last much longer...

It took nearly everything he had to stand to his feet and nudge you awake. 

“Will you bring me back, Silver?” you asked weakly. 

Jimin nodded and the two of you stumbled forward into the forest, trusting the vague recollections of his wolf instincts to lead you home. 

Isa was beside herself with worry. Wolves came and went throughout the night-

But there was still no sign of you. 

And the odds of a child surviving the woods alone with no heat and no protection were slim at best. 

Her hands shook as she gathered feed for the horses from the storeroom near the back of the house. She willed herself to complete the task - any task - in an effort to busy her mind and perhaps achieve a moment of respite. 

Her hand closed around the back door handle and she started forward - only to nearly lose her balance over something lying on the porch. 

The bucket of feed dropped from her grasp, sending kernels of grain in all directions. 

Two bodies lay in a heap at her feet, clutching one another desperately. The Luna and her silver wolf were covered in matted blood and dirt. 

But they were alive. 

Isa began to scream, drawing out the other two occupants of the house; her husband Roojin and his younger sister, a beta healer named Ryn. 

“Oh my goddess,” Ryn gasped, “that’s the Park alpha! I heard some of the elders saying that he hadn’t checked in last night!”

“Get them inside. If we don’t act quickly we could lose them.”

Roojin tried to lift you away from the wolf, but the action was enough to rouse you and you immediately began to kick and scream frantically. 

“No! I won’t leave him!” you sobbed, wrapping your body even tighter around the injured pup. “Silver, wake up! Please wake up!”

“Baby you need to let him go! We have to treat him!”

But you were frantic, refusing - violently - to be separated from your rescuer. 

Ryn was eventually forced to grab a syringe from her field kit to sedate you. 

Isa carried your limp body to the fireplace and began to peel off your wet clothes while Ryn and Roojin dealt with Jimin’s injuries in the kitchen. Blood dripped over the tabletop and puddled ominously on the floor while they worked. 

“It looks like he was attacked.” Ryn’s eyes began to water. “What a brave little boy.”

“How the hell did he survive this?”

“I don’t know, but without a healing touch he’ll die.” She ripped her gloves off and rolled up her sleeves. “Stand back.”

Twenty minutes later Isa and Roojin caught the young healer as her legs gave out from under her. She had poured the majority of her energy into restoring the young Park alpha - perhaps more than was strictly safe-

But he would survive and that was all that mattered. 

“I must contact the elders,” Isa murmured as she helped Ryn to a seat near the hearth. “In all the chaos I forgot to tell them that we found her.”

Roojin sighed, letting his eyes drift back to the table. 

“That pup brought her back, but I wonder if they’ll even believe it. I wouldn’t - not if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“No...” Ryn whispered from the chair. “You can’t tell them about the boy.”

“Why not? He’s the only reason she’s still alive. He deserves to be recognized.”

“You don’t understand,” she shook her head weakly. “His clan is nothing. They have no power - no other alphas. This will make him a target. The alpha pups will challenge him and the stronger clans will see him as a threat to their influence…”

She pulled herself upright and limped over to the table where the young wolf slept. 

“But he's just a child….and small for his age at that. He has no powerful clansmen to protect him from the ramifications of this.” 

Her hands clenched to fists. 

“When his human form returns, he won’t remember saving the Luna. We’ll take him to his mother’s home at nightfall - make it seem like he wandered back. He may garner some respect for surviving the woods, but then they’ll leave him alone… and he can go on living his life in peace.”

Ryn turned to face them both with a determined expression. 

“We owe him that.”

“Where is the silver wolf? Where have you taken him?”

As soon as the sedative wore off you reached for the boy once again, only to find that he was gone. 

“The silver wolf was hurt very badly, sweetheart. Your aunt carried him away to be treated.”

“I have to go with him! He needs me!”

“No, honey - you can’t-”

Isa pulled you into her arms and you collapsed into helpless sobs. The last twenty-four hours had finally caught up with you. 

You were too weak to fight back. 

“Luna… the silver wolf is in danger. Are you willing to keep him safe?”

You nodded fiercely, letting the flow of your tears soak through your mother’s sleeves. 

“Then you must never tell another soul that the silver wolf saved you. No one can know that he was with you in the forest.”

Your eyes narrowed in confusion. 

“But-”

“You will tell everyone that you found the way back alone. Do not mention the silver wolf.”

Isa lifted your chin till your eyes met hers. 

“Promise me, Luna.”

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest as you thought of your champion. He had spared you from a gruesome fate and you did not even know his name. 

You wanted so desperately to thank him. 

Last night, you were so cold - so afraid - that you hadn’t said it...

Now you never could. 

So instead you would protect him - no matter what it cost. 

“I promise.”

———◐——— 

Today...

———◐———  

“I don’t like him.”

Jimin tilted his head slightly toward his best friend.

“Who?”

Taehyung took a long sip of water then moved his hand to cover his mouth. To an outside observer he would appear to be wiping excess liquid from his lips. 

“The senior envoy from the Iron Claw pack.” He shook his head. “Something about him is off. He’s ill at ease.”

All the major packs of the mountain nations dispatched representatives to greet and solidify their relations with the new Alpha. 

Any pack who failed to send a proper delegation risked a diplomatic incident. 

The first twenty-four hours held great significance when it came to the transfer of power. The official term for the tradition-packed period between the revelation of the Alpha and his ultimate reunion with the Luna was called “The King’s New Moon.”

The new moon was the darkest phase of the lunar cycle and the immediate separation from his mate was meant to be a test of the Alpha’s restraint and bearing. 

Jimin wanted to put his fist through a wall. 

He missed you. 

Fighting Namjoon was nothing compared to the torture of this bureaucratic circus.

As the day progressed he was extremely grateful to have Yoongi and Taehyung at his side. Yoongi agreed to act as interim Praetor while Namjoon recovered and he and Taehyung were quick to fill in any knowledge gaps Jimin had with regards to protocol. 

The first round of ceremonial greetings between packs dragged on more than an hour before the bell struck for a brief recess. In fact, until Taehyung’s rather strange pronouncement, nearly every moment played out with boring predictability.

Though there was one notable surprise. 

Apparently the Iron Claw pack had just undergone a change of leadership and was now under the command of a female alpha named Azira Kai. 

Authority in the Iron Claw pack was traditionally decided through combat, and Azira beat nearly thirty-five challengers to ascend as queen. 

Female alphas were extraordinarily rare. Jimin knew they existed, but Azira was the first one he’d ever heard of. 

Iron Claw’s senior envoy delivered the news himself at the start of the ceremony and personally conveyed the queen’s well wishes. 

Jimin eyed the representative in question speculatively from his corner of the table. At first glance the man seemed much like every other emissary gathered in the crowded hall to fulfil centuries old obligations. But Taehyung had always possessed a strange sense about people. 

His instincts could not be easily dismissed. 

“I will keep that in mind,” he whispered as he sent the young man a courteous nod.

The sun had already begun to set when a messenger from the chief elder’s chambers arrived at your door. At long last the ceremonial requirements were drawing to a close and soon the elder’s council would be sending you instructions.

However...‘soon’ could mean anything from twenty minutes to five hours. 

“You might as well rest while you can,” Jin teased with a salacious wiggle of his brows. “Who knows what strenuous activity you might find yourself involved in when they finally let that boy loose.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to pretend that your cheeks weren’t burning with embarrassment. 

“I will rest, but not for any reason you’re thinking.”

Truth be told, your nerves were a bit… frayed. 

A frustration was building within you and nothing seemed to satisfy it. You weren’t even sure what you were wanting, but you definitely wanted it. 

“Of course not,” your cousin chuckled as you gathered your gloves and wandered back to the bedroom. 

An hour later Jin’s boredom found him snuggled up on the couch near the fireplace reading over an old cookbook from your mother’s pantry.

“Heavens… no wonder Aunt Isa’s kimchi is so dry. This is a disgrace.”

Suddenly the front door began to shake and pound violently. Strange smells carried through the air and his eyes widened. 

Foreign wolves. 

He drew in a deep breath and immediately growled in frustration. 

Foreign alphas.

A small bowl of red powder sat on the mantle above the hearth. Jin just barely managed to toss it into the flames before the door splintered off its hinges. 

“Hello boys,” he drawled, unleashing a massive dose of pheromones while the knives strapped to his forearms slid smoothly to his hands. “What brings you here?”

“I just heard the strangest news,” Min Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the small scrap of paper passed to him by one of the council aides. 

“Oh?”

The next set of guild masters were making their way to Jimin at a snail’s pace. It would be several seconds before he needed to greet them. 

“One of the healers sent word that Namjoon has disappeared from his assigned recovery room.” He shook his head curiously. “Where do you suppose he’s gone?”

Jimin’s eyes widened. 

That mangy mutt. He’s probably bent Yunli over every surface of her brother’s house by now. Goddess above! He couldn’t hold out for six more days? 

“I’m sure I have no idea.”

I should have killed him. This is a disaster. He can barely walk, how does he expect to-

“The Miner’s Guild is honored to serve at the pleasure of the Alpha.”

Jimin nodded regally and forced up a pleasant smile. 

“The honor is entirely mine, Master Lee. I look forward to-”

A loud crash split the solemn hush of the room as a young member of the council guard burst through the heavy wooden doors. 

“Red smoke! Red smoke rises from the Luna’s hearth!”

Jimin felt his heart plummet into his stomach. 

Chaos erupted immediately. 

“Call for the guards!”

“We must notify the healers.”

“The messengers just spoke to her-”

“Is it an attack?”

“ENOUGH!”

The Alpha’s voice cut across the assembly with authoritative resonance. 

Every eye turned to him in expectation. 

But he could only think of you. 

“Jung, lock the building down. Take your clansmen and seal off every entrance.”

Murmurs began to stir through the hall as Hoseok directed his people toward the access points, but he ignored them. 

“Choi. Make for the healers. Have a dozen of them meet us there.”

Jimin was already heading for the door. The deadly length of his claws flashed ominously in the firelight. 

“Kim, Min, Jeon - with me.”

The three alphas in question fell in step behind him without a word. 

The scene at the Luna’s home was nightmarish. 

Jimin ran to your room immediately, but all he found was a broken window and the lingering scent of your fear. 

His wolf howled in anguish as he fell to his knees and screamed in rage. 

At the front of the house four badly beaten bodies lay strewn about the kitchen and living room area. Most of the furniture was destroyed and the scent of carnage soaked the air. 

“Jin!”

The omega stood at the center of the rubble. There was a nasty slash running up his right leg and another grievous wound near his ribs. 

But his arms were wrapped around a massive foriegn wolf with the thin blade of his favorite knife pressed against the intruders throat. 

“What happened here?” Yoongi gasped. “And that smell-” he moved his hand to cover his nose. 

“Pheromones,” Taehyung nearly gagged. 

His eyes fell to the corpses - examining their injuries with a critical gaze. 

“Jin, you dangerous bastard.”

The omega simply smiled and forced the prisoner onto his knees. 

“I don’t understand…” Jungkook shook his head. 

“He flooded them with omega pheromones... These four were unmated.” The Kim alpha let out a cold chuckle. “He triggered their ruts… and they killed each other over him.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. 

Male omegas really were terrifying.

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed and he considered the scene. 

“None of this makes sense. The scent markers are clearly from the Iron Claw pack. They didn’t even bother to mask…”

Jungkook and Yoongi began to search the bodies for any hint of their motives or identity when Jimin returned from your room. His fury was palpable in the air around him. 

“Why would anyone kidnap a Luna?” he snarled. “The divine bloodline is sacred to all wolves. Who would be so reckless?”

Jin shook his head.

“I don’t know.” His knife twisted into the prisoner’s neck. “But he does.”

Jimin crouched down in front of the foreigner, fighting every urge in his soul to tear the mountains apart for his mate.  

“Where is she?”

The prisoner sneered.

“You may be a powerful Alpha, but you are not of my pack or my blood.  I’ll never tell you anything.”

“Oh,” Jimin’s eyes flashed with golden fire, “I think you will.” 

Heavy. 

That was how you felt. 

Your body was sore (like it had been tossed and carried a long distance) and your mind was out of focus (as if everything around you was moving either too quickly or too slowly - honestly you couldn’t quite tell).

You remembered being drugged; some sort of compound pressed against your nose and mouth.  

Glass from the window shattered onto your face…

Then unfamiliar scents and unfamiliar hands closed in on all sides. 

Too fast for you to react.

Too shocking for anyone to have predicted. 

Nothing like this had ever happened and there was no reason to believe it would. 

To harm a Luna was sacrilege. 

It was simply not done. 

What could drive men to such a course of action? 

You should be afraid; terrified even.  

But you weren’t.

Your eyes fluttered open to take your new surroundings. You could vaguely see the shape of seven or eight wolves - alphas by the smell of them-

And then you smiled. 

It wasn’t your usual impish grin or anything close to soft or inviting. 

It was a cold twist that crept over your lips as you watched your abductors set up their camp. 

After a moment, one of them noticed your strange expression. 

“Looks like the little Luna hit her head on the way here,” he called out to his comrades with an amused snort. “You should have been more careful with her, Mac.”

He shook his head and made his way over to where you were tied up. The young alpha reeked so heavily of sweat and self-importance, you almost gagged. 

“What’s got you so amused, Miss Luna?”

It was more of a taunt than a question, but your smile widened nonetheless. 

“My mate is going to kill you.” 

Shock flickered over his features for just a second before he threw his head back and laughed. 

“We’ll be long gone before your sweet little alpha even knows we’re here.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and you snarled. “We masked our scent as soon as we got you - and there isn’t a wolf alive that could track our crew through the woods.”

“You’re wrong,” you whispered. 

Jimin’s face flashed through your mind - followed immediately by another memory, buried deeply, but never forgotten—

of a frightened little girl and the silver wolf who braved the forest and fought a monster to save her. 

“He’ll come for me - no matter what precautions you’ve taken.” You leaned forward a bit, letting the conviction in your gaze blaze through to the depths of your captor’s soul. “And then - he’ll come for you.” 

If you are already in the taglist, then I will automatically tag you for the next part! If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

And also please tell me what you thought of this update! I am really excited to hear your thoughts! (I know it was kind of unexpected right?) Feedback really does fuel my writing and hearing from you means a lot to me! On days that its hard to write, I go back and I read your lovely words and it makes me want to keep going! I cannot overstate its value in my heart! 

[mitsukui]

late night experiences | g.w.

Pairing: George Weasley x female reader.

Summary:  learning new things is always better when it is done with someone else.

Word Count: 2,7k.

Warnings: smut! Masturbation, mentions of innocence kink.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention ❤

Masterlist!

Your last year at Hogwarts rushed into your life without warning — and so did your sexual hormones. You swore to Merlin you could feel them tingling all over your body whenever you solely looked at George Weasley, your majestic boyfriend. And apparently, he felt the same way towards you. Wondering the reason behind it all, you were quick to blame the fact that the two of you had just turned 18.

You had been together for a little while now: around nine months or so. But nothing had ever happened, and you were not quite sure why. You two had, supposedly, everything needed: steamy make-out sessions, wandering hands, lustful thoughts, privacy, and all that jazz. Yet, there you were: ground zero.

However, things were about to change even though you still were unconscious about it.

“Psst!” Your favorite quill stopped scribbling your Herbology notes. “Oi!” Your eyes gazed at the direction from which came the voice only to realize it was one of your classmates, Angelina Johnson. “I’ve discovered something last night which I thought you might be interested in.” A mischievous smirk painted her lips as you leaned in closer, already feeling eager to listen to whatever she had to say. She was one of those people who made anyone pay attention to them whenever they said something.

Her hushed whispers filled the existing silence between you two in the Study Area once more. “The boys were talking in our common room last night, and rumor has it George can’t keep his hands off of his cock whenever he thinks of you.”

Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet giggled like little girls when she finally finished her speech. You could feel your cheeks getting embraced by a deep and violent warmness. Uh-oh.

Your mind suddenly produced images by itself: George’s chest going up and down quickly as he moaned under his breath. He had his long and slender fingers wrapped around his dick and, sweet Merlin, he was big. Big and thick and veiny. His eyelashes fluttered as his hand pumped up and down a few times, precum leaking from his tip.

Heaven probably looked like that. What a lovely sight. You would give anything to actually see the great George Weasley in such a position. But, again: ground zero.

Still, the possibility of him pleasuring himself at the thought of you seemed to awake something new inside your chest and offer you a novel tingling sensation. You felt a burning flame in your loins, and it was almost as if your entire body were on fire.

You wanted him to jerk off thinking of you. You wanted his hands to get dirty from his own seed because of you.

You gulped. Snapping fingers brought you back to reality. “Girl, it’s high time you gave that poor lad some love, you know.”

The next few days felt slow and eternal. George Weasley and George Weasley’s thick dick were the only things occupying your mind. Of course, you had fantasized about him before; but it had never been that vivid. Things are always better when they are real, after all.

And you wanted to do something about it. Your soul ached for him to share his hidden and erotic reality with you. Your flesh longed to be painfully close to his. Your body and your hands desired to tease him and give him something to be unbearably hard over. You obviously would not feel in peace until you got what you wanted.

That is why the suggestion of a late night meeting in the Prefect’s Bathroom came to life. It was discussed during another of your studying session with Angelina, Alicia and Katie, being first brought on by Angelina, of course. That girl had many wild cards up her sleeve.

“I happen to know the password. Got it from a Slytherin guy, after giving him a few galleons.”

“And a blowjob, too.” Alicia responded with her eyebrows raised and a mischievous grin hanging on her lips.

As the three other girls laughed carelessly, seeming to be extremely relaxed and confident to talk about such a topic, you chewed on your bottom lip. Jittery feelings bubbled up within your veins while concern clouded your mind. You had a severe lack of inexperience when it came down to anything sexual.

Your temporary anxiety was sharply noticed by Katie, who positioned her hand over yours in a comforting act. Her fingers soothed your skin, her next words slipping out of her lips as motherly advice.

“Don’t feel pressured to do anything, honestly. George is one of the most understanding people I have ever met. But I think a little bit of intimacy would work wonders on you, both of you.” Her grip on your hand became a bit tighter, and her warmth was incredibly pacifying. “You know, just suggest going to the Prefect’s Bathroom tomorrow night. He will surely accept, once he is heads over heels for you. Get in the warm, bubbly water. Kiss him, if you feel comfortable enough for that. And just see where it goes.”

Your other two friends nodded, assuring you everything was alright and that you could always count on them for support and advice. The conversation went on for a little longer, they sharing intimacy tips and encouraging you.

Luckily enough, the next morning was one that you had classes with George. You brought on the subject in the end of the lesson, while he gathered his material quietly.

His lips opened up in a bright smile in the moment you appeared in front of him, but his expression was soon destroyed by your visible tensed posture.

“Hey, gorgeous. Are you alright?”

You sighed shortly, trying to relieve some of your internalized insecurities. The suggestion came out of your lips in a mere murmur, but he was smart enough to grasp onto all of your words. His eyes noticed your dodging gaze and your fidgeting fingers, playing with the hem of your tie. You looked absolutely adorable to him.

“See you later tonight, then. Prefect’s Bathroom, 12AM sharp. I won’t be late.”

The rest of the day felt like an eternity. Perhaps, it was the uncertainty of it all, given that there was no way to predict how the scenario would take place later on. But the time for your meeting agonizingly came, and you were forced to leave your dormitory.

The weather was unpleasantly hot, and it was hard for you to tell whether it was due to the time of the year you were going through, or to the fact you were walking towards your own doom.

You had been curious and tempted to get to know his darker and more lustful façade but, at the same time, you were ashamed of how much you craved him despite being your first time feeling anything like that. Those same novel tingles from before returned to your loins as your made your way to the fifth floor.

Underneath your favorite carmine red pleated skirt and a muggle band T-shirt, you wore a set of lingerie that had not received much attention when previously picked out, which was a simple white bra paired with white panties, covered in tiny pink strawberries. When you were about to reach your destination, you came down to the realization of how childish your underwear looked. You inhaled sharply, concluding you had ruined everything.

Eventually, you and George met, and entered the bathroom hand in hand.

Although you had heard of its wonderful interiors, seeing everything with your own eyes for the first time made you gasp. Your gaze traveled through the place, and you wished to engrave every detail in your heart. The white marble grandness awoke a sense of greatness and admiration inside you, and you almost fell to your knees right then and there.

A tad of small talk was exchanged between you and your boyfriend, until he approached you at last. His big hands cupped your delicate face, and he leaned down to kiss you.

His lips were so terribly gentle that they sent butterflies to your stomach. He showed no shyness in the second his hands roamed down your body and found your back, giving your ass a light squeeze. Unable to control yourself, you moaned and pressed your body against his.

A steamy make out moment was held between the two of you until the moment for the truth hovered over your heads. He rested his forehead against yours, and looked at you with loving eyes as his thumb ran over your lips.

“Tell me why we are here, darling.”

“It’s just that…There had been this rumor, you know?” A shy chuckle escaped your lips, and you closed your eyes, trying to block out all the filthy images suddenly appearing in your mind. “People have been saying that you jerk off thinking about me. But I’m not sure if it’s true or not, because we have –“

“It is true.” The coolness in his voice caught you off guard, and you blinked at him in a mixture of shock and self-induced accomplishment: your boyfriend touched himself at the thought of you.

Your eyelashes fluttered until your eyes were shut, and a sigh escaped your lips. Your mind knew no restrains at that moment, and the images you had been blocking out came to life all at once, violently crashing against your insides, almost like agitated waves at a beach.

Silence embraced the two of you again, but neither of you felt bothered by it. You took your time to let the sinful images sink in, and he took his time to study your face. You had been clearly affected by the truth he had just spilled out, and he secretly enjoyed such thing. He could read you like the palm of his hand, and he knew you were thinking about him with his dick out.

As he breathed heavily, fearing air would forever leave his lungs after what he was about to do, he prepared himself for what was about to come. His thumb ran over your slightly swollen lips but, this time, he parted them with a gentle tug on your lower lip. George timidly shoved his thumb into your mouth, and you, with your eyes still closed, took all of it.

Your tongue swirl against his finger, the feeling of your saliva dancing against his skin sending electrical waves down his spine. You continued on sucking him until your cheeks finally hollowed, and he pulled his finger out with a low ‘pop’ noise.

You opened your eyes in a deep frustration, but he could no longer take it. His cock was hard inside his trousers and it battled for its freedom. He breathed unsteadily and with a bit of difficulty, his mind starting to wonder how your lips would feel wrapped around his tip.

The realization that you two had never done anything before hit him hard, and he felt himself twitching while precum started wetting the fabric of his underwear.

Would it be selfish of him to think he would probably be the first one ever to taste your cunt? The first one to penetrate you, the first one to end your innocence for eternity, the first one to feel your walls clenching around him, the first one to make you cum.

George was forced to step back and groan in bitterness. He really wanted to fuck you, but he would never disrespect you or your limits. Plus, on top of that, he really did not know how he could express his urges.

“S-Sorry, darling. I-I-I don’t know what’d gotten into me, I guess I just lo-“

“Can you show me how you touch yourself?”

The question hung on air for one or two moments. You could not believe what you had just said. You were drunk on a new dizzying and exciting sensation, one that left your panties secretly wet and your clit throbbing, and one which made you ask your boyfriend to masturbate right in front of you.

So he did it. Apparently, Katie was right: George Weasley would gladly accept anything you asked him.

After the enormous bathtub had been filled with water and bubbles, he undressed and you lost all of your senses for a bit.

His fair skin carried grand amounts of both freckles and small scars. His entire silhouette was outlined by groups of yet developing muscles, but each one of them caused more wetness to pool in your strawberries ridiculously covered panties. George was so tall, his shoulders were so broad, and his dick was indeed so big.

When all of his being finally became bare in front of you, you rubbed your thighs together, the need for friction creeping inside your body for the first time ever.

You stood still exactly where you were, but he made his way to the tub, sitting on the edge of the white porcelain. He lowered his dark eyes to his throbbing member and his touch caused a relieved sigh to leave his lips. His hand moved up and down a few times until he looked at you again.

There was something different on his face. His eyelids seemed to be a tad heavier, and the sounds slipping out of his slightly parted lips were the most delicious thing you had ever heard.

George Weasley was jerking off right in front of you. He was moaning only for you. And you hoped he would cum just for you, too.

As the minutes slowly went by the two of you, you watched him quietly. However, it was impossible for him to keep quiet. By now, his moans were loud and shameless. He whispered your name every now and then, the thought of you bouncing up and down his dick providing all the fuel he needed to orgasm only for you.

That was entirely new for you. You felt so dirty, so sinful, so misbehaved, but you were living for it. You wanted more of him, and you also wanted to give George more of you. And that was exactly the reason why you said your next sentence out loud.

“Can I touch myself?”

His ears convinced himself that he had heard it incorrectly, but the way your fingers tugged on your T-shirt, and your thighs rubbed together, he knew he was not mistaken. A new rush of pleasure ran through his veins and he pumped his hand faster. Unable to form coherent sentences, he mumbled something along the lines of ‘please’ and nodded vehemently.

In the blink of an eye, both of your bodies were unclothed and both of you played with your intimacies. George’s right hand applied all the pressure that could possibly resemble your tight cunt wrapped around his cock, and your fingers helped the squelching sounds coming from your wetness to echo in the bathroom. You had never thought that so many lustful sensations could occupy your body all at once and, yet, there you were: masturbating at the sight of your boyfriend doing the exact same.

By now, you also had problems breathing and the tight knot inside your body screamed for a break. You pulled your hand away from your dripping cunt, but you remained connect to your womanhood by a very thin and almost invisible string of your juices.

George obviously noticed that tiny detail and it was too much for him. He announced he was close and, soon enough, his skin was stained by the pleasure you had given him. His eyes were closed as he felt his heartbeat increasing and the images of you still haunting his mind.

The way he accepted and let his orgasm work on his body made you move your hand against your clit faster and you followed him in a matter of seconds. Your body trembled and you could not stop whining.

You had never experienced something so astonishingly sensational.

Your pants filled the bathroom for a little while before his body finally slipped into the still warm water. The comfort offered by the setting relaxed his existence and he weakly called and asked you to join him, which you happily agreed with.

He touched your hips and pulled you closer, placing your body against his chest. With his lips pressed against your temple, he whispered a series of ‘thank you’ and ‘you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen’.

However, his final words changed the mood completely and you hated him for it.

“That’s a nice pair of panties, by the way.”

Tag list! ❤️  @efyra​ @writingsomewrongs​ @kellsslut​ @pineapplesandpinas​ @fiction-is-the-new-reality​ @hufflepuff5972​ @amourtentiaa​ @emmaev​ @asthmax​ @anchoeritic​ @eunoia-kth​

[blukrown]

The Life We Have Earned - Food Run [NSFW]

Reaper (Gabriel Reyes)/Soldier76 (Jack Morrison)

The husbands go for a grocery shop the day after moving in. Mischief and shenanigans do, in fact, ensue.

MOVE IN DAY [1] -> SPRING CLEANING [3]

Or read it on AO3 here

WARNING! This fic features - Sexual acts

It was Monday just past three o’clock at the local grocers, an independent mom and pop store that had survived out amongst the intimidation of branded shops. Mondays during the day were the quietists, with typically only five staff needed to run registers and maintain stock, and the usual clientele of retirees being the only customers to come through before the evening peak starting at five o’clock. 

The toll of the sliding doors, opened as two older men walked in. Both walking too close together to be acquainted, meaning they were most definitely partners in some capacity. The paler of the two got the cart while the darker man got out a list from his phone.

Starting in the fresh produce section at the entrance, the men went on the usual slow walk, looking over the vegetables and fruit, discussing things to each other occasionally. To anyone eves dropping, they would hear the men discussing on what to do for dinner. The darker man was keen to cook his family chili recipe, having not enjoyed in a while it seemed, and although the other man seemed happy to allow him, there was a reluctance.

“Could you at least not put as much spice in it? I drank a full carton of milk last time.” The white-haired man complained, bagging several onions.

The dark man let out a snort, “It doesn't need less spice. You need to build up your tolerance.” Scowering over the variety of potatoes and price comparing.

“Exactly, so how’s about we build up to full strength,” The first man asked with a hint of optimism. He then reached out to touch the other man’s arm, getting his full attention. “Gabe, I want to enjoy your cooking but you know I won’t if I’m gulping down water after the first bite.”

Gabriel’s nose wrinkled, not at the touch but at the prospect of sullying a beloved recipe. But it was clear he was not going to win this. “Fine.” He grunted, “I’ll make two batches, one normal one and one for wimps.”

Jack let out a sigh of relief, “Wimp-chili sounds great.”

Gabriel let out only a grunt, taking the lead in fishing out the appropriate vegetables and meat for the dinner.

It was the day after their long awaited move. After spending the day unpacking everything, they had realized they did not have any food outside of cans and condiments, so a much needed grocery shop was needed. 

They had argued on where to go, whether the mom and pop store they drove by on the way over was any good or just go for the safe option and go to the branded one. Gabriel had argued for the big-branded shop, it would have more variety and be cheaper. While Jack had argued for the local provider, ‘support local!’ he had said. They had not agreed, but since Jack was driving, the decision was made.

Gabriel was not particularly butt-hurt about going to the other option, but his ego demanded he put Jack down a peg, even just a little. Some may say that it was immature or that it is not the correct way to treat your husband but Gabriel knew Jack did not mind, as long as he didn’t go too far.

Leaving the fresh produce section, they went into the first line of isles, which shelved breads, tortillas, granola and the collection of cereal.

Jack stopped to look at the porridge options, pondering to go with the original or packeted variety. Seeing his opening, Gabriel casually rolled the cart past Jack. When in reach, Gabriel reached out and groped at Jack’s ass. I mean, how could he not? Jack had worn his nice jean shorts today, which made his rear-end look as perky as when he was 30.

Jack jumped, “Wha-?” Turning immediately to look at the perpetrator. Only to see Gabriel already walking to the end of the isle.

This was then to be a multiple offense incident, as everytime Gabriel passed or stood near Jack while he was looking at the shop’s goods, Gabriel was getting a handful of Jack’s goods. He would hear Jack splutter and flinch, and the most recent attempt, slapping his hand away. Thankfully, the isles were quiet, the two men only passing one other customer and two staff restocking the shelves. So Gabriel’s mischief was not noticed by anyone except his victim, who although annoyed, seemed bemused. 

What Gabriel did not know was that his misbehavior was to be punished in turn.

In the last isle, all the stock of toilet paper was piled up by brand and then by style. The two men then having a discussion on whether it was worth getting the ‘ ultra soft, white silk ’ version or just the basic which was at least a dollar cheaper. It was Gabriel’s turn to make the decision without further discussion, muttering something about not wanting a scratchy ass after taking a shit. 

Gabriel was just bending over the pick up one of the 12-pack, when Jack saw his chance for revenge.

Coming up behind Gabriel, Jack quickly grasped at both of Gabriel’s hips and thrusted his crotch into the other man’s clothed rearend. Gabriel let out a gasp, a mixture of surprise and gratification audible as Jack humped against Gabriel’s behind a few times before suddenly stopping and walking away.

Jack’s skin was burning the flesh of his face, a bit flustered he would dare such a move in public, not to mention how he felt his cock stir in his shorts at the momentary friction. Gabriel on the other hand was way worst off. Still leaning over, hands squeezing the plastic just a degree less than ripping it. Not daring to stand straight as he felt an erection tent the cloth of his tracksuit pants.

Gabriel’s heart was beating a thousand miles an hour where he crouched, his heartbeat loud in his ears. Jesus, was he not expecting that, which made it all the more difficult to distract himself from it. Jack was a kinky fucker in the bedroom but he rarely darred to do anything this bold in public. Just the thought of how it felt, the hands on Gabe’s hips and hint of Jack’s cock on his rear.

Gabriel had to stay by the toilet paper for about five minutes before he had calmed himself and his dick down enough so that he was not going to be arrested for indecency. Standing upright with the packaged toilet paper in the cart. He saw Jack was at the end of the isle, looking apologetic apart from the impish twinkle Gabriel could see in his eyes.

“You're gonna pay for that one, Jackie,” Gabriel said, voice full of venom as he pushed his cart to check out.

Jack did not seem at all afraid by that, restraining a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing to make it up to you.”

Gabriel was unsure what exactly Jack meant, but thought better of inquiring further as the adolescent at the register was waiting for them to put their items on the conveyor belt.

With at least five bags and the toiletpaper now filling the cart, Gabriel led the way back to the car. Which they had parked in a corner spot just near the entrance. After the two men had put everything into the trunk, Jack gave him the keys. 

“How’s about you drive?” Jack offered. 

Gabriel frowned, was this Jack’s way of repaying him. Not what he was expecting but he would take what he can get. Grunting, he took the keys and got in.

Jack sat in the passenger seat and looked to Gabriel. “I was thinking, I could go down on you while you drive us home.”

Gabriel was, for a moment, shocked by Jack offering to do something as dangerous as giving road head. But that’s before he noticed that impish flicker was now more a full flame, Jack was horny. He had just, luckily, not gotten hard like Gabriel had.

Gabriel smirked, “What a horny, old man you’ve turned out to be, Jackie.” 

Jack mirrored Gabriel with grin, “Well, this horny, old man wants you to unzip before he changes his mind.”

Gabriel’s smirk stayed even with the threat, “Yes sir,” He answered.

Tugging his pants down to his ankles, he then pushed the fabric of his briefs down to pull his cock and balls out. Not erect, Gabriel could feel himself awakening however. The sight did not deter Jack, who was already leaning over.

Gabriel tried his best to act normal, being now the only visible one in the car. Turning on the engine and putting the car into reverse to pull out. Below him, Jack’s hand took Gabriel’s length in a firm but kind grip. Dragging the loose skin up and down the shaft, slowly awakening his cock. 

Reversing out, Gabriel had to focus as best he could as he felt Jack’s tongue lap at the slit of his cock like a fucking lollypop. Gritting his teeth and nose flaring, he successfully pulled the car out of the parking spot. Now put the car into drive, he let out a soft groan as Jack took the head into his mouth.

Remembering the route back home vaguely, he knew that it was about five minutes away. Thank god, any longer and Gabriel doubted he would last.

Setting out, Gabriel took quick work of getting them out of the car park and onto the main road. Traffic was light, just before the start of peak hour. Jack below him was sucking at the tip languidly, his hand still jerking the rest of the length. Fuck he was good at it, damn him.

Gabriel soon had to stop at a red light, noting that either lane had a car parked along side, he tried his best to keep his face stoic. Having to bite on his bottom lip as a groan tried to ruptur past when Jack finally took his whole length in his mouth.

Gabriel remembered when Jack first went down on him. Awkward, fumbling, choking as he eagerly wanted to impress. Gabriel had told him not to push himself and he would get better in practice. He had not expected him to get this good, however.

Gabriel gasped as he felt Jack hollow his cheeks and suck hard. Lowering his head and swearing under his breath. His knuckles going pale where they gripped onto the steering wheel for dear life.

There was then a honk from a car horn behind him, making Gabriel slightly jump. The light was green.

“Shit,” Gabriel swore, focusing back on the road and driving ahead. Flipping off the guy behind him through the gap between the passenger and driver seats through the back window.

He felt more than heard Jack chuckle. His throat rumbling in bemusement with his mouth full of cock.

“Shut it you,” Gabriel spat, hand going to comb through Jack’s short hair and tugging on the hairs, urging him to move.

Jack obliged, allowing Gabriel to fuck into Jack’s sucking, wet, heaven of a mouth. His tongue brushing at the base as his length went in and out.

“Fuck,” Gabriel swore, feeling his balls ache has he felt his end closening. They were nearly home, recognising street names and landmarks he had past on the way over. Just two more turns.

Stopping at a stop sign, checking left and right, he dared a glance down. Jack's face was not visible, facing straight down to allow full oral access. Looking to where Jack sat in the passenger, he could see Jack had unzipped and freed his own dick from his jeans. His own hand idly pleasuring himself, not hurried as his focus was else where.

There was then another honk, another car behind Gabriel, waiting for him to turn. “Fuck off,” Gabriel spat, only his voice faultered when Jack’s hand went to squeeze at his balls. Turning right, and doing his obligated middle finger to the asshole behind him again. 

Just two more streets then a left. Third house on the right. Almost there. Almost there.

Luckily, Gabriel kept his focus, following his mind’s pleasure-fuzzed map to their new home. Desperately, at this point moaning each time Jack took him down and near swallowed him, he clicked the garage button attached to the keys. The garage, as if mocking Gabriel, took its sweet time rolling open. 

Thankfully, they only had one car so Gabriel could park as terribly as he liked. Quickly getting the car into park and turning off the engine, he squeezed the hair he still held between his fingers.

“Fuck me, Jackie,” Gabriel groaned, his hips lifting to urge even just that little more into Jack’s mouth. “You take cock in like you can’t live without it.”

Jack moaned in his throat, closing his eyes as if embraced by the bliss of sucking Gabriel’s dick. Jack’s hand quickened it’s pace at his own dick, desperately as if very close to nearing his own end.

“Fucking fuck,” Gabriel swore, muscles growing tense with every second. “I’m gonna cum Jackie, you want me to cum down your throat?” All Jack could reply was a blissful whimper of assertion. “God, you love the taste of my jizz that much, huh? Couldn’t even wait until we got home before you had my dick in your mouth. I’d fuck you but your mouth feels so fucking good, Jack.”

Jack audibly moaned, weakening his own bobbing of his head as he seemed to be losing focus with his own end approaching. Taking full control, Gabriel fucked into Jack’s mouth. Manually moving Jack's head as well as bucking his hips to ensure he went as deep down his throat as possible. Using him like a toy as he felt his end crest like the largest wave.

Gabriel groaned, forcing Jack all the way down on his cock as he came. Feeling his cum splurt out and down Jack’s throat in a few fervent squeezes. He felt and heard Jack eagerly swallow the substance down, like it was the purest of water.

Jack pulled his mouth away, leaving Gabriel twitching, over sensitive and covered in saliva. Gabriel pulled Jack by the hair to kiss him. Uncaring to taste the bitter aftertaste of cum on his mouth.  

Jack moaned gratefully, his hand feverish now as he took himself to his own end. Gabriel did not stop kissing him, holding Jack’s head steady by the grip in his hair as his partner came undone.  Orgasmic shivers shook down Jack’s spin as he came. Gasping for air against Gabriel’s lips as he came in his hand.

Pulling his mouth away, Jack rested his head on Gabriel’s shoulder. Breathing heavy breaths as he came down from up high.

“Never mind,” Gabriel said gruffly, tugging the neckline of his shirt to wipe at his forehead which was prickling with sweat. “We’re both perverted old men.”

Jack let out a snicker, then sighed. “God, you really know how to set me off.”

“What? You’re going to blame me for this?” Gabriel retired, acting offended.

Jack rolled his eyes, “It’s not entirely your fault, but you definitely started it.”

Gabriel grunted, “Can’t deny that.” He then sighed, unbuckling his seat belt. “Better go have a shower, and you better brush your teeth. Your breath stinks.”

Jack laughed again and both men got out the car and went inside. Only to quickly shuffle back in when they realised they forgot their shopping.

[ellewords]

atsumu was like the sun. he shined and glowed and warmed people just by being near them. without a single thought, he was able to brighten the mood in ways that no one else could. even on his darker days or when his being felt too harsh, he left an impact that made everyone long for more. you couldn’t always see him, couldn’t always feel his presence, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there somehow, unseen but known.

by association, that sort of made you the moon. you could shine brightly and leave a warm glow and comfort others when they felt like they were in the dark. but all of that wasn’t possible without the sun. without atsumu.

people didn’t know you unless you were by atsumu’s side. they didn’t spare you a glance until atsumu brought attention to you. but you didn’t mind. all you wanted was to have him by your side, to support you when you couldn’t hold yourself up, to be brilliant beside him even if you would never outshine him. you were content in your current situation.

so why did it hurt so much seeing him continue to shine? why did his warmth suddenly feel so cold? why couldn’t you be as bright as him all on your own?

or, atsumu will always be the sun, you always the moon. maybe now it’s time to accept that you’re nothing without him so you can finally shine for yourself.

-💛

—  from elle ! 💛anon you never miss, do you? aaaa this was so good it lived in my head rent free ever since i first read it >_< i just had to write an addition to this for the way you made my heart actually ache. i hope i did your drabble justice :<< this just hit a lil too close to home ngl thank you for reading everyone, i hope you like this! reblogs are appreciated, they help a ton <3

fic notes / warnings : timeskip!miya atsumu x gn!reader, angst, fluff (-ish? kinda) ending, oneshot, wc: ~1.52k (!! my longest margins addition so far omg)

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atsumu has a gravitational pull, that much has always been clear to you and everyone else; a pull so strong that you can’t help but orbit around him. every room he walks into, he commands the attention of everyone present. one can’t help but simply be drawn to him — with his bright smiles, boisterous laughs, and larger than life movements. it’s no wonder why everything seems to bend to his will, how the universe seems to revolve around him. 

you’ve moved around him for as long as you can remember, every now and then, he lets you borrow his light. the world has associated you with him and you don’t blame anyone one bit. 

his name has always come first. setter for the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. invited to the all-japan youth intensive training camp, miya atsumu. captain of the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu.  

meanwhile, yours is treated as an afterthought, an attachment, a footnote in the awe-inspiring narrative of his life. you’re known as his childhood friend. his best friend, the one who cheers him on from the stands in every single one of his games. alleged significant other, according to whispers in the hallway and to the tabloids and paparazzi. his eventual confirmed significant other, ln yn. 

atsumu and who’s that with him? atsumu and his best friend. atsumu and his significant other. atsumu, oh, and yn’s here too. it’s always atsumu before yn; his name before yours. sometimes, you wonder if anyone would know your name if he hadn’t started dating you.    

you walk behind atsumu, not beside him, when you enter a room. fingertips loosely intertwined with his, you attempt to keep your head up as atsumu introduces you around. they spare you a quick “hi”, before beginning a conversation with your sun. 

though he’s not really your sun, is he? you’ve always had to share him with everyone else. everyone needs a little sunshine in their life, a little warmth; his brilliance is dazzling, like everyone else, you revelled in his glow. 

the world has always associated you with him, but it never worked the other way around. atsumu has always shined on his own; you needed him to have light for yourself. 

~

no one blames the sun for burning a little too bright; it’s simply the way it is. similarly, you’ve never blamed atsumu for being the way he is. he doesn’t know, didn’t mean to do it in the first place. atsumu has always existed for himself, lived life the way he sees fit.

you can’t blame him, no matter how much you wanted to. even if you forced yourself to. 

staring at the sun is fascinating, but do it long enough and it starts to hurt. the warmth is no longer comforting, but harsh and prickly. the light is no longer magical and dazzling, but blinding and terrifying. it took some time, but you eventually convinced yourself to look away. 

“ya sure ya wanna do this?” atsumu asked, immediately recognizing your hesitance. he doesn’t want to break up, he wants you to take your words back, he wants you to tell him that this was all just some sick prank. but right now, it doesn’t matter what he wants. what matters is how you feel, the emotions he didn’t realize you had been feeling. 

“no…” you mumbled. the intensity of his gaze makes your knees buckle, but you stand your ground. even in the chilling darkness of his living room, he radiates light and understanding, making everything all the more difficult. you bite the inside of your cheek, letting a few beats pass before your next words, “but i have to.”

“i believe in you,” atsumu nodded, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jeans. he lets out a quiet exhale, eyes gazing on the suitcases in your hand, “yer gonna do so many amazin’ things.”

your grip on the bag’s handle tightened. it was the end of an era, one that you didn’t expect would be ending at all. but it had to be done. for the first time since you met atsumu, you finally began to think of yourself. a small smile plays on your lips, hoping that he picks up on the pure gratefulness of your tone, “thank you for lending me your light.”

his reply would play in a loop in your mind. even in a breakup, the darkest the night has ever been, atsumu offers you a little bit of light. as expected from the sun.  

~

the moon goes through several phases. some days are better than others. it’s a wave of several highs and lows, but you grow to understand that’s how things are. on some nights it’s as invisible as they come, the clouds blocking out what little light it already produced. though it glowed on other nights, you often feel like nothing has changed. but you learn to trust the process either way. 

gazing at the moon is calming, not dazzling and exceptional, but calming. it provides peace, serenity. you often gazed at the moon, especially on the nights where you could only toss and turn. a cold breeze would blow past you and send shivers down your spine, painting your bare skin with several goosebumps. leaning on the balcony railing and taking in the sounds of a city that barely slept makes you think of him. 

you miss the sun; you miss your sun. you miss his presence and the warmth he brings you. atsumu checks in every now and then, asking how you’re doing and wondering if you’d ever want to meet for a cup of coffee. you’ve never accepted any of his offers for fear of only getting pulled back in. 

you’ve never realized that you always had a gravitational pull of your own. atsumu spends most of his nights gazing at the moon. when his heart raced and his mind buzzed, the moon brought him tranquility — as did you, his anchor. 

[ miya atsumu ] : the night sky is nice tonight, it makes me think of you. i like that we’re always looking at the same one. 

[ miya atsumu ] : i hope you’re doing okay.

he’s right, the night sky does look nice. the moon is full and shining the brightest you’ve ever seen it shine. gleaming, enchanting, and breathtaking doesn’t seem to do its beauty any justice. perhaps the poets and artists had been right all along, the moon is the perfect muse. your thoughts almost convince you that its light isn’t artificial. but twinkling beside the moon are the stars, shimmering high above the world you know, their light completely their own.   

you’re not okay. being the moon may not be too bad, but you’ve already realized that you want to be amongst the stars as one. 

~

days turn into weeks, and eventually months. sometimes they blend together when nothing of interest or importance happens, though you strive for events that are worth remembering. you’ve found a job that you actually like, one that you truly excelled at. you’ve started to put yourself out there, to meet people that pushed you to be better than you had been the day before. slowly but surely, you began to create your own light.

some days your light faltered, some days are dimmer than others, but it was a light of your own. it’s one that didn’t need another’s glow to exist. soon enough, you find yourself accepting one of atsumu’s many offers for a cup of coffee.

he’s now brighter than ever. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu, has turned into setter for japan’s olympic team, miya atsumu. his radiance is as blinding as ever, the largest grin on his face as he waves his hand out the second he caught sight of you.   

but you’re brighter now too, weaving through the cafe tables with your head up high. you’re more sure of yourself, standing taller, making each step towards him with purpose. you’ve lost the tension in your shoulders, the weight that built in your chest. and atsumu notices it too.  

“you’ve changed.” he smiles, much softer than you’re used to. his gaze is fond as you settle in the seat in front of him.  

“i know,” you reply, the corners of your lips twitching upwards, “but thank you for lending me your light.”

atsumu’s smile remains that same soft one that you’re not used to as he recognizes your words almost immediately. he leans back in his seat, gesturing a hand to you, “never gave ya anythin’, this is all you.”

he replies with the same words he said several months ago, the latter half of the sentence being the only addition. warmth fills your chest as he never lost a single ounce of sincerity. the only difference? this time you actually believe him. 

atsumu may still be the sun, but you’ve become a star in your own right; you no longer need him to shine. maybe someday you’ll shine bright enough to allow yourself to exist beside him. but for now, this is enough. 

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