#this is just the snippet that started this mess but not the first chapter or anything

[greyias]

Tagged by: @captainderyn -- thank you for the tag! Tagging: @meanbihexual, @keldae, @queen-scribbles (no pressure!) From the little au that could...

—

Valkorion had looked down at his progeny with ill-disguised contempt, lightning dancing at the tips of his fingers as he attempted to silence what he saw as the only threat in the room. He didn’t even look up until the cold barrel of a blaster buried itself at the base of his skull.

Which brought Theron back to where he wasn’t supposed to be.

Here.

Standing in someone else’s moment, stepping into a destiny that wasn’t his, and about to set into motion a cascade of events he had no hope of understanding. He was a disgraced spy. A Jedi washout. The Force-blind son of someone else’s greatness. A man always destined to live in the shadow of others.

“Do you really think that pathetic toy will hurt me?”

[moodymisty]

Author's note: Funny Guilliman snippet. Guilliman/Fem!Reader implied, Tokophobia warning maybe, @lemon-russ enjoy

Guilliman often found himself preferring the feeling of writing on the rough surface of parchment than anything else, dipping his pen in fresh ink to finish his sentence. He nearly fumbles it, grumbling to himself. The pen he manages to catch, but his slight shifting causes him to wince and wait for noise.

Cradled in the elbow nook of his right arm his own child lets out a soft murmer, just barely disturbed but not enough to wake. They shift just slightly, wiggling in the warm blanket and continuing to suck on their thumb.

Guilliman could barely contain the sigh of relief.

This is the first time he has taken care of his child without you close by to help him; He isn't entirely confident he could soothe them if they woke up. The nervousness is, unfamiliar to him- though he can't help the fear of this new unknown.

But you desperately need the break, and Guilliman knows he can only cower in fear of his own child for so long. He can no longer use the excuse of their tiny size in comparison to his own hands to hide his broader fear of failure.

Shifting in their little blue blanket and resuming their nap, Guilliman resumes his work, but a feeling on the back of his neck causes his eyes to glance upward and to his left.

Decimius Felix is looking down at Guilliman's lap with an odd expression, brow furrowed as if... Confused. Guilliman turns his head to meet the astartes face on.

"It is a baby, Decimius. Are you familiar with the concept?"

The Tetrarch reels backwards as if hurt, his armor plates clicking against each other.

He then gets a bit irritated at his Primarch clearly poking fun at him, his nose wrinkling just a tad. His men are still quite shocked by his sense of humor, a trait Guilliman sometimes enjoys messing with.

"Yes, my primarch. It is just,"

Guilliman is well aware that his relationship with you had shocked his legion. They were unfamiliar with why he would even consider such a thing. His child had been an even greater surprise; Even months later, they are still confused. Many of his captains had vocalized their displeasure with him for bowing to baser things, though this displeasure he preferred over the Eclessiarcy's obsession over his believed holy child.

His chapter's standoffishness has started to fade a bit, but disapproval still lingers within all of his command, apart from Calgar.

He reminds himself to thank the Chapter Master for his personable attitude in spite of everything before Felix speaks up again.

"Will they just keep sleeping?"

Guilliman has to resist the urge to smile. It's such a painfully innocent question. One that he had thought as well, at one point.

"Until they're hungry, yes."

Guilliman can see the shift in Felix's lips, like he has another thing he wants to say, and Guilliman prays that he won't ask what happens then. He would rather throw himself out of the airlock and let the cold vacuum whisk him away into the grand unknown then explain to one of his men why he would need to get you for that process.

Thankfully however he doesn't say anything more, and simply hums, looking at the infant a moment longer. Not that there's much to see; They're swaddled up in the thick blanket to the shoulder, only a pudgy face with a thin wafting of light blonde hair is visible.

You had laughed hysterically the moment the hair started to grow in; They had gotten blessed with Guilliman's bright blonde hair, and around the same time their real eye color had come in; In which they'd inherited yours.

There, lets brush all the hair down just like that. Now you have silly little bangs just like your father- Right Robu?

He glances down at them again and smiles. He's never felt happier, prouder, than he is now. And to think it's because of something so simple.

He wonders if Tarasha and Konor felt the same, when they held him as a child.

"When will they need to eat?"

Guilliman has a gathering of his men scheduled for a bit from now, and he assumes Felix is prodding him due to wondering about a potential conflict of time.

"Soon."

Guilliman's hand drifts to the bottom of the page, eyes on the tip of his pen rather than the vaguely perturbed expression of his Tetrarch.

"...What do they e-"

Guilliman's hand suddenly jolts and the inked pen skids across the parchment, ruining his signature and making a rough scratching noise that surprises even himself. He doesn't need to look in Felix's direction to know he's a bit surprised.

"This conversation is over. Go ask that question to the serfs if you need an answer desperately."

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (2)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Word count: 3.1k

Chapter Warnings: still nothing major. let me know if i need to mention anything.

A/N: posting part 2 right away, because i absolutely cannot wait for you guys to read more ahhhh. however, i just want to apologize for any sort of grammatical errors. english is not my first language so, please bare with me. also, while i was writing this story, i realised i would love it if you imagine the town's setting and vibe as something similar to "Stars Hollow" from the show Gilmore Girls, except it's a little more modern. does that make sense lmao? anywayssss, let me know your thoughts hehehehhe.

part 2: thorns in the asphalt

Finally done with the motorcycle he’s been working on, Jungkook stands up and claps his hands together, sending a puff of dust and grease into the air. He lets out a shaky breath, wiping his hands on a damp rag, and glances around at the bustling shop outside. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s his dream finally coming to life.

The half-set-up motorcycle shop buzzes with activity, the sounds of hammers and drills blending with the faint hum of an engine someone’s tinkering with in the back.

The air carries a mix of oil, fresh paint, and the occasional whiff of pepperoni from the pizza his friends are devouring. Jungkook pushes open the side door to the main area, letting it swing shut behind him with a soft clang.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok—his partners in crime, both in business and in the gang—are gathered around a workbench repurposed as a makeshift table. Pizza boxes and soda cans litter the surface amid spare parts and tools.

“Hey, Kook, want a slice?” Hoseok asks through a mouthful of food, lifting a greasy hand to wave a slice in his direction. Jungkook shakes his head, brushing past them towards the washroom. "No, thanks." he mutters.

A few moments later, he returns, his damp hands running through his hair as he leans against the wall, his eyes darting across the shop. Despite his attempt to focus on the chaos around him, his thoughts drift to you.

He clenches his jaw, irritation flaring as he recalls your sharp tone and the unmistakable look of disdain you gave him earlier. Yoongi glances up from the catalog he’s flipping through, sensing the shift in Jungkook’s mood. "What’s with the mood?" he drawls, his voice laced with mild curiosity.

"Is it because of the florist?" Jimin asks, his eyebrows quirked as he tilts his head. The glint in his eyes reveals he already knows the answer. He’d overheard snippets of your exchange earlier in the morning when he’d briefly stepped out to help the workers.

Jungkook groans and drags a hand down his face. "Why are you even bringing her up?" he snaps, though the exasperation in his tone lacks real heat.

"Because you’re clearly bothered." Jimin teases, leaning forward with a knowing grin. "Let me guess, she gave you an earful about how we’re ruining her perfect little flower shop with all the noise and chaos?"

"Exactly!" Jungkook throws his hands up, his voice rising slightly. "She acts like I’m singlehandedly destroying her business just by existing. I tried to be polite—"

"Polite?" Hoseok interrupts, nearly choking on his soda as he fails to hide his laugh. "You? Polite? Kook, I’ve seen your polite face. It’s the same as your ‘don’t mess with me’ face, and honestly? It scares people." he adds, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

"Not helping.” Jungkook deadpans, shooting Hoseok a glare as he plops down into a chair near the counter. "Look, we’re moving in. Of course there’s going to be noise and commotion. Like what else does she expect? Silence and fairy dust?" he scoffs.

"Maybe she has a point.” Yoongi says, his tone calm as he flips another page of his catalog. "We’re not exactly a quiet bunch. And you did rev your bike for, what, a solid minute when you parked earlier? Was that really necessary?" he questions.

Jungkook groans again, throwing his head back. "That wasn’t for her! I was literally just testing the new pipes." he insists, his tone defensive.

"Sure you were." Jimin chimes in again, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. "And let me guess, she’s cute too, huh? That’s why you’re all worked up." he teases.

Jungkook freezes for the briefest moment before his head snaps forward, his glare locking onto Jimin. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh, it has everything to do with it.” Hoseok adds, leaning forward with a smirk. "Kook’s got a thing for the feisty and cute ones. Don’t deny it." he giggles with Jimin.

"You’re all insane." Jungkook mutters, grabbing a slice of pizza and taking an overly aggressive bite to distract himself from the conversation he so badly doesn't wanna have.

"Admit it…” Yoongi suddenly says, finally setting the catalog aside to pin Jungkook with an amused look. "She got under your skin and that’s rare since usually, you’re the one doing the annoying."

"She’s NOT under my skin.” Jungkook argues, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrays him. "She’s just... she's just being so damn unreasonable." He looks away, muttering under his breath. “I don’t even care."

"Uh-huh..." Jimin says, exchanging a knowing glance with Hoseok as the two continue snickering. "Whatever." Jungkook grumbles, leaning back in his chair. "Let’s just focus on getting this place running. The sooner we’re open, the sooner I can stop worrying about her."

But even as he says it, his mind drifts back to you... the way your eyes flashed with annoyance, the sharp edge in your voice as you threw his words back at him.

//

The late afternoon sun streams through the wide windows of your flower shop, casting a warm golden glow over the rows of vibrant blooms. You're carefully rearranging a bouquet of sunflowers, their cheerful yellow petals, a stark contrast to your lingering irritation from earlier. The noise from the shop next door had finally died down after the confrontation, leaving behind a calm, almost eerie silence.

You let out a small sigh, trying to tamp down your annoyance. "He’s moving in. Of course, there’s going to be noise." You repeat the thought to yourself, attempting to summon some patience. Still, that didn’t excuse Jungkook’s smug attitude. He had a knack for getting under your skin in record time.

The day passes peacefully after that. A few regulars stop by every now and then, gradually making you think less of the way your day had started.

The smiles of your customers as they left, made the effort worth it, reminding you why exactly you loved this job. Flowers had a way of softening even the hardest days.

As you glance at the clock perched on your counter, the hands read 7:32 PM. The faint ache in your feet confirms it's time to call it a day. You walk to the front of your store and flip the "Open" sign to "Close" on your glass door.

As you turn around to walk towards your workbench, curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to make your way towards the window. You peek out, trying to see something.

The sidewalk, once cluttered with tools and crates, was now clear. The noise had disappeared entirely, and the only sign of life was the light spilling out onto the pavement. You couldn’t see anyone moving about inside. Shrugging, you step away from the glass, shaking off the lingering thoughts of your new neighbor.

Back at your workbench, you start by tidying up the scattered stems and trimmed leaves. Your fingers had just reached for a bundle of sunflower stalks when the soft chime of the bell above the door startled you. "We’re closed for the—" you begin, turning around, but your words melt into a smile as your gaze lands on Taehyung.

He strolls in, exuding his usual effortless charm. He's dressed in a cozy brown sweater and a pair of white trousers while smudges of paint streaks across his hands. His dark hair falls messily over his forehead, and the corners of his mouth lifts into a playful grin.

"Looks like someone had a busy day." you tease, gesturing towards the paint on his hands. "Art waits for no one." he replies dramatically as he leans against the counter like a protagonist in a renaissance painting. "But of course, I had to stop by and see my favorite florist." he adds, standing up straight.

You roll your eyes, laughing as he joins you at the workbench and begins helping you clean up. "Flattery won’t get you free flowers," you quip, sweeping a handful of cut stems into a bin.

"Who said I was here for flowers?" he shoots back, his grin widening. "I’ve got a better idea. Dinner. Tonight. The whole squad—Namjoon, Seokjin, Juwon, me, and you. You need a break, and we all miss you."

You pause, leaning against the counter as you consider his words. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to spend time with your closest friends. But after the day you’d had... between juggling work and the fiasco with Jungkook, you were tempted to go straight home and collapse into bed.

"I don’t know, Tae..." you began with a small pout. "It’s been a long day."

"Exactly why you should come." he says, stepping closer, his tone now softening with concern. "What happened, though?"

You sigh, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear, not wanting to say anything. Judging your expression, Taehyung wraps his arm around your shoulder as he pats your arm.

"Sounds like someone needs to vent over some good food." you hear him say, his teasing tone returning. "Come on. Join us. You can rant as much as you want, and I promise you’ll leave feeling at least a hundred times better."

You stare at him for a moment, weighing your options. The idea of being with your friends laughing, talking, and letting the weight of the day slip away was tempting. "Fine." you finally relent with a smirk. "But you’re paying for my dessert." you quickly add, smirking up at your best friend.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but instantly grins. "Deal. Now hurry up. We’ve got a table waiting, and I’m starving."

You laugh as the two of you continue tidying up around your store so that you can close up quickly and escape the chaos in your mind, just for a bit.

//

Jungkook leans against the frame of his shop’s side door as his tongue plays with the piercings on his lower lip. He let's out a deep exhale as he thinks about the long day he's had.

Though the shop was coming together, the chaos of setting up and managing his friends’ antics had left him drained. He pulls out a cigarette from his pocket but hesitates, staring at it for a second before tucking it back in. With a shake of his head, he looks to his left, eyeing your shop.

He notices how your shop is still lit, its warm golden glow, a stark contrast to the sharp fluorescents of his workspace. He steps a little forward, inching closer to your store and halts just when he's able to get a view of what's happening inside.

He peaks from the window, his eyes following through the gaps between the shelves of flowers. From where he was standing, the scene inside felt surreal, like something from a painting—the neat rows of flowers against the wall, the gentle sway of their petals under the ceiling fan, and then... you.

His eyes land on you without warning, and it's like everything else blurs for a second. You're standing near your workbench, a soft smile playing on your lips as you lean towards a man beside you. He's tall, dressed in earth tones and the two of you seem to move in sync, tidying up the scattered stems and leaves, your laughter faint but clear in the stillness of the evening.

Jungkook’s breath hitches. That smile. It was nothing like the irritated glare you’d aimed at him earlier that morning. This was something entirely different. So delicate, so soft, so genuine in a way that felt private, like something he shouldn’t be witnessing.

He crosses his arms tightly, trying to shake the strange pull of the scene, but his gaze betrays him, lingering despite himself. He stands there, wondering who that man is. A friend? A brother? A boyfriend? A husband?

"You’re staring." Yoongi’s voice cuts through the quiet, smooth as ever but laced with amusement. Jungkook jolts back into reality, straightening as his friends emerged from the shop, now standing behind him. Yoongi leans against Jungkook's shoulder, a sly smirk on his face, while Jimin and Hoseok stand back, each carrying half-empty soda cans.

"Her again?" Jimin teases as Jungkook feels his friend stand beside him. Jimin takes a sip from his soda and squints his eyes, looking inside your shop. "I’m not staring." Jungkook finally bites back, his tone sharper than intended. He looks away quickly, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Right." Hoseok smirks, circling around to join them. "Then what were you doing? Meditating? Because it looked like you were ready to write her a sonnet." he mocks, earning a snort from the other two.

Jimin lets out a low whistle. "She does look cute tonight, I'm not gonna lie. I totally understand you." he says, his grin widening as Jungkook shoots him a deadly glare. "I wonder who's the guy." Yoongi suddenly says, tilting his head slightly, his sharp eyes scanning the man beside you. "I don’t know. And I don’t care.” Jungkook snaps, his voice low but taut.

"Oh, you care.” Hoseok said with a knowing chuckle, nudging Jimin as they exchanged grins. "Look at you. All tense and broody. It’s adorable." Jungkook faces them, his jaw tight. "I’m not tense. And I’m definitely not broody. I could care less about her." he huffs.

"Care less, huh?" Yoongi murmurs, raising a brow. "Funny how you can’t stop staring at her for someone you claim not to care about." he laughs as the other two agree. Jungkook scowls, but his friends were truly relentless.

"Come on, Kook, admit it.” Jimin says, moving away from his spot as he starts walking towards his bike that's parked near their store. Hoseok follows him and Jungkook hears Jimin continue. "You’ve got a thing for her. Feisty florist, sharp tongue, cute smile— basically your type."

"She’s NOT my type," Jungkook speaks, but his voice falters slightly, betraying him. He doesn't even realize his eyes have found their way back to you. "Then why are you still looking?" Yoongi asks, his tone almost gentle now, like he was daring Jungkook to confront something he wasn’t ready to.

Jungkook clenches his fists at his sides, as he finally looks away, glancing at Yoongi. He doesn't know what to say, but he turns back to look at you. He observes the way the unknown man leans closer to you, saying something that causes a grin to appear on your face. The sight sends a strange pang through Jungkook’s chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome but he ignores it.

His friends seemed to have noticed the shift because their teasing suddenly softens while their smirks are replaced with something quieter. "Hey..." Hoseok starts after a moment, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder as he carefully pulls him away from your window and begins walking towards their bikes. "If it bugs you that much, why don’t you just talk to her? Not like your grumpy act is working." he suggests.

"Yeah, sure." Jungkook mutters darkly as he shrugs off Hoseok’s hand and continues walking. "I’ll just stroll over there and say, ‘Hey, sorry for all the noise. By the way, is that your boyfriend?’ That’ll go great." he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Hoseok shakes his head.

"I didn't mean it like that, idiot. I meant like... in the days that come, maybe be nice to her, start a friendship... I don't know. She's our neighbor after all. Besides, today's only the first day, You have a ton of opportunities to start something fresh with her." he explains. "Yeah, he's right. It's better than standing here sulking.” Jimin shoots back, grinning.

Jungkook glares at them but says nothing, his thoughts too tangled to argue. His friends get on their bikes and wear their helmets. "Anyways, we're heading home. Lock the doors and make sure you get home safe too." Yoongi says, starting his bike. The other two follow him after a few minutes, bidding their goodbyes to Jungkook.

He quietly stands near his bike, a war between his brain and heart as he tries his best to decipher what exactly he is feeling right now. He shakes his head, telling himself there's no point thinking about all of this and walks back into his shop, deciding to just tidy up and head home. It's been a long day.

//

The diner was a cozy little spot on the edge of town, with warm lighting and the smell of fresh food in the air. Namjoon was already there when you arrived, his nose buried in a thick book, while Seokjin and Juwon were engaged in an animated conversation about work.

"Finally." Seokjin says as he spots you and Taehyung slide into the booth. "You’re late." he complains. "Blame her…" Taehyung says, pointing at you. "Sorry, I took some time cleaning up." you answer, taking off your coat and placing it on your lap.

Namjoon finally closes his book and looks up at the rest of you. "Wow feels like we're all linking up after ages." he says as everyone around the table laughs. "Joon we literally met last week." Seokjin says. "Yes but, Y/n wasn't there. You can't deny but it has been a while since all 5 of us have hung out." Namjoon states, earning a nod from everyone.

"You're right, I have been a little busy." You agree, smiling at everyone apologetically. "Oh it's alright Y/n-ah" Juwon says, as she proceeds to hold your hand on the table and rub your knuckles with her thumb. "How have you been? What's new?" she quickly asks.

Soon, conversation sparks up between the 5 of you as the food you had ordered arrives and somehow you find yourself ranting about the incidents of the day you just had. You launched right into the story, recounting every frustrating detail. Your friends listened intently, their reactions ranging from indignation to amusement.

"Sounds like he’s a pain.” Seokjin says, once you're somewhat done. "You should send him a passive-aggressive bouquet. A nice arrangement of thorns and poison ivy." he adds and Taehyung laughs at his comment. "Or maybe he’s just not used to someone standing up to him, you know." Juwon suggests with a smirk.

You scoff, leaning back in your chair. "Please. He’s not that intimidating. I will stand up to him whenever it's needed." you nod to yourself. "Ugh I hate him. He's like my biggest enemy right now." you let out, rubbing your temples.

Namjoon chuckles, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Be careful, Y/N. Strangers to enemies... that’s a slippery slope." he says, swallowing his food.

"And sometimes…" Taehyung suddenly adds, his grin mischievous "it’s the best kind of slope." You groan as you hear him say that, dropping your head onto the edge of the table as your friends laugh. If this was the start of your interactions with Jungkook, you dreaded to think what the rest of your coming days would look like.

<- part 1 // part 3 ->

[minkdelovely]

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter two

“i come loaded with the

safety switch on.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: blood, sensory overload, vomit, implied cannibalism, descriptions of graphic violence, power dynamics, non-consensual touching, valentino sighting, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 2.5k

author’s note: i just wanted to give a huge shoutout to @hazelfoureyes for being so gracious to let me tag her here as inspo! if you haven’t already, please go check out her work - she’s seriously sooo talented and awoke my need for more interaction between alastor and valentino lol

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor had insisted that you walk back to the hotel, your arm linked under his as he paraded you through the remainder of the city like a proud parent.

You tried to fight feeling grateful for the support since he could have easily teleported you back to the hotel, but you gripped his arm all the same. The adrenaline dump had left you feeling so depleted and all you wanted was to be back in your bed. Snippets of what happened in the alley raced through your mind’s eye, and you shook your head, trying to keep them at bay. Did you really have the capacity to be that enraged? That violent? Apparently you did…

The blood was drying tight on your face, contrasting with the slick, heavy feeling of fabric latching to the skin of your chest. You could feel yourself winding up, overwhelmed and uncomfortable by the mess you were covered in. There wasn’t a part of you that felt clean and you were desperate with the need to remove your dress. Tears blurred the edge of your vision when you fixated on the taste in your mouth, barely managing to pull away from Alastor before you fell to your knees and vomited.

Bile, blood, and… It was the tipping point.

No longer able to hold it back, the sob you released was closer to a scream. What had you done? You couldn’t fight the images flashing in your mind; the sound of screams and flesh tearing, an airway so saturated with blood it bubbled. How it felt when your teeth punctured flesh, no easier than biting into a piece of fruit. Your mouth filling with blood… and swallowing. And that wasn’t all you had swallowed, was it?

It wasn’t until you started frantically tearing at the collar of your dress that Alastor approached from behind you, grabbing your wrists easily in his large hands.

“Now, now, that simply won’t do,” he chided cooly in your ear, radio static gone, his presence large and stable behind you. “I thought a walk might help you to calm down, but at least you managed to save this episode from prying eyes. Be a big girl now and stop crying, we’re nearly home.”

You couldn’t see through the tears as he pulled you up to your feet, his hands releasing you as soon as you were standing. A throb of pain rocked your head and you choked out a final sob, trying to steady your breath as you rubbed your burning, swollen eyes. 

Why was he being so patient with you? He had been in a good mood ever since he found you in the alley, not even bothered by the fact that the clothes you had been sent to pick up were soiled and needed to be returned to the cleaners. And how had he even found you in the first place? Was he following you? 

“Oh, my dear, you look like the stuff of nightmares!” Alastor said in his usual static, not sounding at all sorry for you. Hell, he probably meant it as a compliment. “Remind me to ask what that poor creature did to earn your wrath.”

With that, he hooked your arm again and led you up the hill.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“What the fuck happened to you?!” Angel shouted from the bar when you entered the lobby. Husk nearly dropped the glass in his hand, but managed to recover, his face pale.

Thankfully, your audience was just the two of them. You wouldn’t have known what to do if everyone had been there to see you in this state. Dread came over you then, thinking of what it will be like to finally stand in front of a mirror. Your empty stomach churned.

“Not to worry, Angel, the blood isn’t hers. Poor thing ran into a bit of trouble running errands, but that’s all been taken care of, hasn’t it?” Alastor cooed, resting his hand on your shoulder as he peered down at you.

“Well don’t just stand there, let her get cleaned up before anyone else sees! Niffty’s gonna have a fucking fit when she finds the mess on that carpet,” Husk said to Alastor, shaking his head in exasperation. 

Alastor’s fingers dug into you at being rebuked, but you were more focused on the muted plop sounds of blood falling to the carpet from the laundry bag. Had it really just been an hour since you had picked it up? You were so tired it was hard to believe that it was still only morning.

“Yeah, don’t worry, toots. We won’t tell no one about your, uh… day out,” Angel said delicately, raising his hand with a suave smile. “Scout’s honor. Though I gotta say, I think you look fuckin’ badass. Whoever it was got what was coming to ’em.”

You huffed out a small laugh, managing to give him a weak smile before Alastor enveloped you both in shadow.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Angel and Husk watched as you and Alastor disappeared, giving themselves a moment until they felt like it was safe enough for them to talk again.

“So… what the actual fuck, am I right?” Angel half-laughed, taking a swig from his glass. “I think she fuckin’ ate somebody.”

Husk hummed, nodding his head slightly in agreement. “Definitely not impossible. I just hope he didn’t put her up to it.”

“You really think he’d do somethin’ like that, Husk? I mean, sure, he’s been bossin’ her around but… forcin’ her to eat someone? Seems extreme.” 

Husk sighed, giving him a defeated look. Angel shook his head, eyebrow peaked in disbelief. Ignoring the phone buzzing in his pocket, he finished his drink.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Despite how much you had been looking forward to it, it felt strange to be back in your room. Everything was the same as how you’d left it, but it almost felt like nothing here belonged to you anymore. The room was so still, quiet except for the sounds of Alastor rooting around in your ensuite bathroom. What he could possibly be looking for, you didn’t know, nor did you really care. You were so tempted to just collapse on the bed…

The shower turned on and you sighed, closing your eyes to enjoy the soothing sound it made. It was a peace short-lived, your eyes flying open when you felt fingers at the back of your neck undo the button of your collar, followed quickly by cool air against your spine as Alastor unzipped you. You stiffened and moved away, turning to face him, bringing your arms up to keep the dress from slipping off your shoulders to the floor.

The rebuttal died in your throat when he laughed, stepping towards you in your retreat.

“Testy, aren’t we? I was merely trying to help, and this is the thanks I get?” 

His eyes narrowed when you moved farther away in response. Would he ever stop toying with you? 

“Alastor, please, I’m too tired for this,” you pleaded, glancing at the bathroom behind you as you fought back a fresh wave of tears. You knew he wouldn’t like it if you started crying again. 

“Which is exactly why I’m trying to help! Surely, you aren’t insinuating that my intentions were anything but courteous?” He said it casually enough but you could feel the threat veiled underneath as he continued his way to you. “Seeing how my clothes need laundering again, I figured you’d want me to take the dress as well. It was a gift, after all.”

“I’ll take it myself,” you tried to say evenly, looking away from him. He was hovering over you now, effectively making you feel small. “And I didn’t think you were—”

He tipped your chin to look up at him and licked the pad of his thumb on his free hand. You stood frozen stiff as he used it to wipe your cheek, not daring to upset him more by pulling away. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the truth of how completely in control he was over you sunk in, killing whatever was left of the hope you had of staying under his radar. Silently, you watched as he brought his thumb back to his mouth, but your breath hitched as he sucked off the residue. The look in his eyes made you want to disappear, and you hoped the tear-streaked mess on your face was able to hide the blush now burning your cheeks.

“Sylvie… shouldn’t you be getting in the shower? Or is wasting water another bad habit of yours?” he said, voice low and face smug.

Without thinking, you jerked your face out of his hand and quickly pulled the dress off, shoving it at his chest. Before he could say another word you were in the bathroom, using all the restraint you had left not to slam the door in his face. Leaning against the door, you could hear him laughing as he made his way out of your room. Finally there was silence, and you slid to the floor with your face in your hands, swallowing against the feeling of your heart in your throat. And worse, you weren’t sure if the tightness in your chest was shame… or something else.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Niffty was already hard at work removing the blood stains in the lobby, mumbling to herself as Alastor passed through to make his way back to Cannibal Town. Making sure to give Husk a knowing, pompous grin, and receiving a scowl in return, he walked out the hotel. Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he had enjoyed himself so much before noon. Whatever else the day had in store he couldn’t know, though it would be tough to beat.

The taste that lingered in his mouth was bordering on cruel, a gamble he wasn’t sure he had properly hedged the bet of. Regret wasn’t something Alastor felt often, if at all, and he would vehemently deny it even if he did. Was it regret he felt at tasting the blood that dried on your face? No. While the blood itself was subpar — it had come from some vile creature, after all — it had been transformed by your skin chemistry and tears, creating a flavor that was robust and surprising. Had it not been for decades of tempering his self-control, Alastor worried briefly in the back of his mind that he might have done something drastic; hence allowing himself just the one taste. And apparently doomed to savor it until opportunity presented itself. 

He couldn’t help passing by the alley as he made his way through the city, unsurprised to see that your victim was still lying there, stripped of clothes and whatever possible valuables he had possessed. It would be at least a week before he recovered from the attack. A thought passed through Alastor’s mind and his antlers grew in response to the idea, mouth curling up in a fanged, sinister grin. Passersby ran away in horror.

It wasn’t until Alastor walked into the dry cleaners that the armor of his good mood chipped. Of all the fiends in Hell, Valentino was the least of whom he ever expected to run into here. Cannibal Town wasn’t a sanctuary in the true sense, but its culture did manage to deter most of the demons Alastor deemed undesirable. A peace he was not willing to part with. Though clearly someone had tipped Valentino off about how to blend in here, as he was without his gaudy trademark robe, instead donning a shockingly respectable black suit.

Alastor had no grudge with Valentino, he simply just didn’t respect him. Getting sinners to sign themselves over to you in promise of fame was so trite. How Valentino could be proud to call himself an Overlord was a mystery, unless he was truly that shameless. Or more likely, from what Alastor had overheard Angel saying to others in passing, oblivious. Both seemed correct. While Alastor could suffer a fool, anyone who would bend under Vox’s will really wasn’t worthy of his concern or energy. 

Valentino turned at the ringing of the bell over the door, with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin as he took in the sight of The Radio Demon.

“Well fuck me, if it isn’t the big, brave hero! I thought Adam sent you to Super Hell, but I guess you would be too stubborn to die,” Valentino said haughtily, taking a drag off his cigarette. “How’s the wound, flaco?”

Internally Alastor bristled, but he maintained his facade of nonchalance. It wasn’t surprising that the Vees had found out about what happened between him and Adam. Of course it irritated him all the same, considering that the battle between the two of them wasn’t quite public knowledge. For now, all Alastor could do was keep the fact that the Vees knew in his back pocket and work on a plan of action to counteract it, should need arise.

“Wound is a bit strong, Valentino, but as they say: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger! You’re too kind, inquiring after my health,” Alastor responded jovially, though the smile on his face was cold and menacing. “I must say, I never thought I’d see you here. I didn’t think Cannibal Town would be an ideal place for you to… scout.”

Valentino scoffed through a strained smile. “No shit. There are a lot of kinks out there, but ‘ragtime cannibal freaks’ isn’t one of them.” He paused to take another drag, continuing as he exhaled red smoke, “But this is the only place that can actually get all the stains out of my shit. Looks like I’m not alone in that department. Busy morning?” He gave a pointed look at the bloody laundry bag hanging off Alastor’s arm.

“You could say that,” Alastor teased, finally making his way up to the counter. The employee took the bag with a smile and removed the suit from its paper covering. Your dress was hanging in an armoire back in Alastor’s suite. He never intended to get it laundered. “Send my regards to Velvette. I haven’t had the chance to tell her how much I enjoyed her input at the last meeting you were apparently too busy to attend.”

Before the moth demon could say anything his cell phone rang, and Valentino answered as he gave Alastor the finger in response, opening the door to leave. “What do you mean, Donny hasn’t fucking showed up yet?!”

And then he was gone, yelling at his phone in the middle of Cannibal Town. Bold.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

When you woke up your room was dark, save for the light of a sconce near your door, the throbbing in your forehead making itself immediately known. The headache wasn’t surprising considering how much you had cried, nor was the pang of hunger you felt. You didn’t feel ready to eat anything yet though, but you definitely needed to get some water in your system.

Slowly, you got yourself out of bed, pausing for a moment to breathe through the stiffness in your body. Even when you had fled from Alastor earlier, your bathroom had never seemed as far away as it did now. It wasn’t until you were practically in front of it that you noticed the red dress hanging from your bathroom door, a note peaking out from the left pocket of the white, ruffled apron attached to its waist. It was a brief message, but impactful all the same. 

I believe red suits you best. - Alastor

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

tag list: @fairyv-ice

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

still the bone remembers, still it wants | chapter 2/9 | 20k | read on ao3

The thing is, wanting has always been easy.

The thing is, wanting has always been so hard.

or, eddie goes to therapy and learns how to want. buck helps.

snippet:

Okay, so. A list.

Just a list.

A list that Eddie can write down on the spare piece of paper he ripped out of one of the dozens of notebooks Chris leaves lying around, feeling only a little bit (a lot) guilty when he did so.

He immediately put get Chris another notebook on the very first line. Then he crossed it out because he could hear Frank saying it’s about you, Eddie, just you on a loop in his head, all deep and foreboding and judgemental. And then he rewrote it again because his son deserves all the notebooks goddammit, especially one that doesn’t have a crudely missing page because of Eddie.

But now he is doing this for real. He’s thinking about himself. He’s gonna come up with some things he wants and write them down.

He’s been trying to do that for fifteen minutes now.

Maybe he should have waited, started this at a time when he wasn’t fresh from therapy, when his insides don’t feel so tightly strung and his brain doesn’t feel like a goopy mess that’s been pried apart and rummaged through by his own trembling, cracked hands.

But time isn’t something Eddie really has a lot of.

read the rest on ao3

[tleeaves]

Rule(heart)breaker

Tokyo Debunker | Ritsu Shinjo x reader/MC Warnings: none Description: the girls (business partners) are fightingggg, minor angst if you tilt your head to the side, potentially ooc maybe idk Author's note: this is my first TDB fic so, um, try not to judge me too harshly maybe if it's totally crap. This is sort of just a snippet of an idea I've been having around a potentially longer/multi-chapter Ritsu fic? Tbh I don't even like this guy that much but something about his character compels me, so, here we are. - T. Lee 🍃

Ritsu Shinjo prided himself on being perfect; efficient and effective in every way humanly possible until he reached ghoul status and could pursue levels beyond any human alive or dead. So, imagine his surprise when his morning cup of coffee—black, no milk or sugar to ruin the raw taste—went flying out of his hand and spilling over his shirtfront and lap, immediately painting his immaculate uniform shades of brown before he could even utter acimo.

Swiftly, one of six handkerchiefs on his person found itself in his hand and dabbing at the hot mess. If he were anything less than a ghoul and if the cup had not already been cooling for four minutes and twenty seconds, this would probably be hurting a great deal more than it already was.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” a voice squeaked, sounding mortified.

Face as blank as ever, Ritsu glanced up with only the slightest hint of distaste in his tone when he said, “You are late. And I will be charging you for the time wasted and now for my uniform’s dry-cleaning.”

“Are you okay?” the Darkwick inspector asked him, hands hovering awkwardly as he continued pressing the handkerchief against his clothes, attempt to draw out what he could. The handkerchief, he realised dismally, would need cleaning too.

“Wet,” he commented tersely, “And now behind schedule, but fine. Where were you that your time was so occupied at nine AM? The very time, incidentally, I informed you our meeting was to occur here at the Mystery Diner. Twenty minutes ago. You confirmed yesterday during business hours that you would attend this meeting.”

Ritsu watched as your eye twitched. Intriguing… and worrisome. You were his business partner; clumsiness could be forgiven through the correct procedure of reparations, but if you were tired and no longer at your sharpest, that would be a problem for him too. How could he rely on a sleep deprived partner to bring Sinostra enough prestige to win the laurel crown at the Gala?

His gaze never left you as you tentatively sat down across the table from him. An opponent’s position. A business partner would typically sit next to him. He took mental note of that to add in with his voice recordings later when he was transcribing.

As you tugged on your sleeves, Ritsu noticed that your attire was in disarray. Buttons missing, small tears, untucked, upturned collar on one side, and a loose tie that appeared suspiciously like it was cut in half—and not intentionally for style. He started listing these items aloud into his recording, completely missing the flush on your face and the odd glint in your eyes where you usually looked so vacant.

“A mission,” you declared suddenly.

Ritsu paused. Gathered his thoughts and offered the recorder out. “Can you elaborate? You were on a mission?”

“I have been on a mission since the closing of business hours yesterday,” you drawled. Ritsu blinked, a dozen thoughts on workers’ rights, Darkwick policies and rules, and legal procedure running through his mind before anything could leave his mouth. He did not get the chance though, as you continued. “I have been on a mission since yesterday and I just got back from being off campus this morning. I have not slept a goddamn wink, I have not changed, I have not showered, and I have not eaten. Another anomaly was killed instead of being caught for study. So, thank you for waiting patiently for me.”

Ritsu was indignant. “You should not have accepted the mission, you have every right to refuse according to—”

“You don’t get it,” you snapped. He watched as the flush on your face deepened, not with shame but anger. “Nearly four months have passed since I was cursed. I don’t care about being overworked; I care about finding the fucker that’s turning me into its clone. So, I accept every mission Darkwick puts my way and I’ll keep doing it until I find a cure. Yes, that might mean I’m not on time to meetings. But don’t pretend like you aren’t just using me the same way Darkwick and all the other ghouls do.”

Ritsu remained silent, the recording still rolling. You took that as an opportunity to stand from the booth’s table and plant a hand on its surface. His empty coffee cup rattled.

“Or do you deny it? We’re spending more time elevating Sinostra so you can continue your little glory quest than we are investigating anything related to my curse.” Your eyes were steely and a small part of Ritsu wavered under that stare. It seemed ridiculous because he was not one to be intimidated, ever. So, what else was the feeling?

Ritsu took a breath, readjusting his blazer, though he stayed seated. “You have adequately addressed your concerns. I make no such admissions or denials at this time on the matter.” He sighed shortly. “We are business partners. It is natural we should not get along and agree on everything, but there is no matter I cannot resolve with enough time.” He checked his gleaming watch. “We should resume this matter at four—”

“Hell no.” Moving around the table to loom beside him, you said, “Let it go on record that Darkwick’s inspector resigns from the business partnership with Ritsu Shinjo, starting now. We have different priorities.”

Ritsu stood. “Sinostra has missions.”

“Sinostra can barely go a week without any warnings from the academy,” you seethed.

“That is why we are working together to preserve its reputation,” he argued.

You gave him a cool smile. “Exactly. Different priorities.” Striding past a bored-looking Ren Shiranami, you said, “Nice knowing you, Thesaurus.” The door shut heavily behind you.

Ritsu watched your retreating figure out the diner’s windows before you disappeared from view around the corner. He sighed through his nose. This was not good. One way or another, he needed to get his business partner back, or better yet, find a suitable replacement.

[smilesatdawnmain]

Reverse Taken (To Catch a Thief)

I could put this on AO3... but then I would have to write full chapters. And you all KNOW how I am about my chapters. They are long- and complicated- and- and this is an AU of an AU people. I got ideas for snippets, but if I sit down and actually try to write a fanfic about this-

.... I might lose my mind.

SO TAKE THE SNIPPETS! (I hope you enjoy)

Summary: MK meets "the Spider Prince" for the first time

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

“Finally-“ Red Son’s shoulders were lifting and falling, a bubble of maniacal cackling working up from the back of his throat. Mei leaned back a little as it erupted to a full crescendo, “That little Thief's ruin is here!!” 

“Okay, Red Son-“ Mei began to say 

“Can you feel it Dragon Horse girl?! The end to our suffering!” He threw his arm out, his hair messy, and clothes stained. 

Mei grimaced, “When was the last time you got sleep man?” 

“I’ll sleep when this nuisance is out of our hair!” Red Son’s hair fumed, tinkering with the trap-triggering device for the 10th time. 

While Mei was all for getting this guy out of their hair, she wasn’t exactly on board with Red Son losing sleep over it. “Nothing says “I’m obsessed over you” like an elaborate 30-step plan of capture,” she whistled, eyeing the schematics. 

Red Son grouched over his shoulder, “I am not obsessed.”

”Right right,” she nodded, “Can’t be fantasizing about the enemy, totally get it.”

Red Son was sputtering, his hair erupting into sharp flames, “F-Fantasizing?! I do not- That ruffian is-“

”Clever, the bad boy type, has a cute face- He’s your type,” she snorted, eyeing a wrench as she said this. As casual as mentioning the weather. She smirked when he continued to fume and disagree, sounding like a high-pitched steam pipe. 

“Shut up, Mei!” Red Son shouted, swatting the air dismissively. “I have no ‘type! I am simply showing them that one should never mess with the son of the Demon Bull King!’” A nervous chuckle escaped him as he tried to suppress the flush creeping across his cheeks. He concentrated on his device again, though the intricate mechanisms were starting to blur in front of his eyes.

She didn't miss a beat, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “Oh please, just admit it,” she teased. “You want to catch him and then... what? Make him pen a love letter that starts with ‘Dear Red Son, I can’t stop thinking about your smoldering hair and striking remarks’? Are you going to serenade him under the moonlight after you pin him down? I hear Demons used to gain their mates that way. Court napping,” she smirked. “You were raised in the ways of olden times~”

Red Son whipped around, his eyes wide with a mix of fury and embarrassment that flared into a fresh wave of heat. “I’m not some lovesick fool!” he yelled, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to regain composure. “This is about—about justice! That bastard has been making a mockery of everything I’ve built!”

“Right,” Mei replied innocently, pressing her lips together to stifle laughter. “A mockery or your unending attraction?”

Red Son opened his mouth to retort, but the words tangled in his throat, “T-There’s no way he could ever—ever—live up to my rank and standing!” He had barely even seen the man’s face for Pete’s sake! How dare she assume he had anything but loathing to the thief.

Before he could spit a slew of curse words at her audacity, the door was sliding open behind them. The ace to their plan had arrived. 

“MK!” Mei threw her arms up, running to the arriving Monkey Prince. He stood like a light in the dark, his chocolate hair curled back, a spot of color above his eyes to highlight the golden traits he inherited from his Father. He grinned, and if you were to look at it for long enough, you might mistake it for the sun itself.

"Mei," he says, extending his arms out. They embraced, chuckling as they nuzzled foreheads.

“Glad you could make it.”

”Well, my Dad is in town to talk with your grandpa, so it works out. I told him we were testing Red Son’s latest invention.” Which wasn’t a lie, and thus slipped below his Father’s all-knowing eyes of detection. In truth, there was a new invention- all with the intent of catching some troublesome thief Mei and Red Son had been struggling to take care of. He was honestly surprised that neither was having luck with this guy. 

Apart of the Spider Queen’s crew, as far as they all knew. A well-known spy for her forces, but never one to really show himself publicly. He was a Demon Monkey, as far as most were concerned. Not many sightings to fully confirm, far too sneaky. It was only because of Mei and Red Son that they knew for sure he was- but it was always far too dark to see his face. Only that tail of his curling behind him was their true indication. 

“A rouge monkey sure is odd,” he wonders. If he had told his Dad the truth, he probably would have wanted to investigate it himself- as King of the Monkeys. MK wanted to try his hand at it first, however. As the Future King, it was kind of his job. At least it felt like his job. 

“So exactly why do you need me?” he inquired, eager to help where he could. 

“Your eyes,” Mei tapped her temple. “This guy- he always strikes at night, when it is dark. Even with my eyes, it’s just- ughh, he’s so annoying. I can barely see him.” Like the guy was just one with the dark. ”But you, you got that super awesome Gold vision! Doesn’t matter how dark it is, you’ll be able to see him. So he can’t get away if he manages to get out of the trap Red Son set up.”

Speaking of, they both looked over to their friend hunching down to connect some power cables. A real cat-and-mouse chase going on. Seems Red Son was the one most affected by this demon- too much of his supplies swept right from under his nose! 

“You are just a precaution.” Red Son grumbled. “This plan is fail-proof.” 

“Do we know what this guy even wants?” MK inquired. 

Mei shrugged, “I dunno. He steals metal and tools from Red Son.” 

“If I look at the list of everything together, it is hard to give an accurate theory. However, these are building materials at their finest. For Mei, most of her stolen items are relics. Perhaps intended to pull the power from.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I can only assume it is with the intention to build something. Spider Queen is always scheming.”

Mei cracked her knuckles, “And losing!” Whenever she showed her face, her Grandpa was always quick to knock her back down. Of course, it would be great if they could actually capture the lady to end this- but she always managed to slip away. 

Mei was starting to feel like it was thanks to this little thief. So, if they deal with him, the next time they deal with Spider Queen, they could nab her too. Two birds, one stone. 

“Huh, okay,” MK eyed the schematics. They seemed far too complicated for a simple thief. “Isn’t this a little overkill?”

”Hardly,” Red Son scoffed. ‘You haven’t dealt with this peasant before. Believe me, I should be adding more.” When MK looked at Mei for confirmation, she shrugged lightly but nodded. 

“Then, how are you so positive he’ll show up tonight?”

”We set out some bait,” Mei smirked, showing her social media account. ”Red Boy over here figured out that must be how this guy is learning what Red Son has in stock cause-“

”Cause YOU can’t keep yourself from vlogging in my workshop and revealing everything I have!” Red Son barked, making her flinch and laugh sheepishly. 

“Yeahhhh-“ she snickered, “So, I vlogged myself by all his new stock. Upgrades, metal, tools- Shiny things galore! He won’t be able to resist.” As she was positive most of the stuff he stole from her was not because he needed it, but because it was shiny. “He’s like a moth. He’ll show.” She slammed her fists together, ‘And when he gets here, we’ll bag him, get his number for Red Son, and then off to jail he goes!”

“Right-!!” MK trailed off, “Wait, what was that about Red Son-?”

“Nothing!” Red Son barked, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. He shot Mei an incredulous glare that only seemed to fuel her teasing grin.

Mk chuckled, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet, “Come on, you can't just drop a bomb like that and not expect me to question it.”

“It’s nothing!” Red Son shrieked.

He pushed MK out of the workshop, giving him a spot to hold the position of. “Just wait here. Keep your eye out. If he manages to escape, which he won’t, but just in case, you need to block his exit.”

MK nodded, taking his position outside the edge of Red Son’s workshop. It was just outside the city, in a little mini apartment he owned. His own personal space away from his parents to work on his own time and schedule. It had been good for him- finding himself and what he wanted after he moved out of his parents. Really made him feel… grownup. Of course, compared to Mei and him, Red Son was. He was 21 almost 22, while they were 19. MK hadn’t even considered the idea of- moving. He could, if he wanted to, but it felt strange to want to leave the Mountain, the tribe… For the time being he mostly spent his time learning the ropes of being King from his Dad. Doing some hero work here and there in defense of humans.

He wouldn’t even know where he would go if he did leave home. Would he get a job? Travel? He shook his head,

As the night deepened, MK's senses sharpened. His golden eyes scanned the perimeter, alert for any sign of movement.

Hours passed uneventfully. Just as MK was beginning to wonder if their trap would work, a flicker of motion caught his eye. A shadow, darker than the night itself, detached from a nearby building and slunk towards the workshop.

MK tensed, sinking a little lower as he watched it slip into Red Son’s apartment. He wasn’t quite sure what he expected from Red Son’s plan, but he hadn’t really expected it to work.

Because it did.

Well, kind of.

MK was starting to get the idea of what Mei and Red Son meant when they said “This guy was tricky to catch”. Red Son’s plan was to get some inhibitor cuffs around the thief, to prevent him from using any demonic powers. From the ZAP and spark of blue, that seemed to have worked- or, the cuffs had at least been activated.

A moment later, however, all hell seemed to break loose within the apartment. Chairs were tossed, and furniture toppled.

MK winced as he heard the crashing and banging from inside. Red Son's shrill voice pierced through the chaos, yelling obscenities and threats. Mei's laughter rang out, punctuated by more crashes.

"Uh, guys?" MK called out hesitantly, pressing to the communicator in one of his six ears. "Everything okay in there?"

"Just peachy!" Mei's voice crackled through the communicator, breathless with exertion and amusement. "Our little thief is quite the acrobat! Got the cuffs on him but the net didn’t really work- Gah!” Mei sounded like she was tripped.

A loud crash followed her words, accompanied by Red Son's indignant shriek. "Stop jumping around, you insufferable primate!"

MK shifted uneasily, torn between maintaining his position and rushing in to help. The sounds of the struggle continued, punctuated by occasional flashes of light visible through the windows.

Suddenly, a dark figure burst through one of the upper windows, glass shattering outward. A blur shot against the fire escape, landing nimbly on the metal. MK's eyes widened as he got his first clear look at the elusive thief.

It was indeed a monkey demon, lithe and agile, with a long fluffy tail. Light fur- nearly white, with a tint of green. He couldn’t quite see their face.

The thief's wrists were bound by glowing blue cuffs, but he seemed unfazed as he vaulted over the railing, scaling the drain to the roof top above using just his feet and tail.

“He’s loose! MK-!” Red Son bellowed.

"On it!" MK shouted into his communicator, already in pursuit. His feet barely touched the ground as he raced after the fleeing thief, golden eyes locked on the shadowy form ahead.

The thief was fast, weaving through rooftops and shooting across powerlines with inhuman agility. But MK was no ordinary pursuer. He closed the gap steadily, his own monkey-like grace allowing him to match the thief's acrobatics.

As they raced across the city skyline, MK caught fleeting glimpses of his quarry. The demon monkey's fur gleamed nearly silver in the moonlight, and there was something oddly familiar about the way he moved. MK shook off the nagging feeling, focusing on the chase.

“Hey!” he called, a strange- bubbling sensation in his chest. It startled him.

Whole

Like a punch to his gut, he staggered, barely catching himself when the two leaped over a massive gap between buildings. He rolled to press his palms to the floor, on his knees and panting.

What??

Whole

He felt like his soul was being pieced together, suddenly and without warning. Flushes of sensations and warmth were coming to him. The strange sensations were intensifying, making it hard to focus. He touched his hand to his chest, wheezing. His other half? Here? Close? Where??

WHERE?!

When he looked up, he found the thief paused, having whipped around to face him. He had no reason to stop- in fact, he could have used this as his chance to gain a serious lead to MK, but the Monkey did stop.

His eyes were wide, his tail puffed and curled around him. For the first time that night, MK could see his eyes. They were auburn and frantic- as frantic as his own. As panicked as his own.

He had a marking like a butterfly against his face. His face seemed so… strikingly familiar.

The thief stood frozen, his auburn eyes locked with MK's golden ones. Narrowed like a cornered animal, only to soften the moment their eyes locked.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them suspended in this strange, charged moment.

His other half. It was him...!

"Who... who are you?" MK managed to gasp out, his voice barely above a whisper. He stood, his knees shaky.

The thief's tail twitched nervously, his bound hands flexing against the glowing cuffs.

The thief's mouth opened, then closed, as if struggling to find words. His eyes darted between MK and the path behind him, clearly torn between flight and... something else. "I..." the thief started, his voice low and hesitant. "I don't..." his eyes suddenly softened- vulnerable as he looked upon MK. “A-Are you-?” he stammered, his voice small.

He was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps and Red Son's angry shouts growing closer. The thief's eyes widened in panic, and he took a step back, ready to bolt.

"Wait!" MK cried, reaching out instinctively. "Please, I... I feel like I know you! I… It’s you- isn’t it?!” he pleaded. His other half. His other half!! It had to be! It felt so right. He got closer- closer- blocking out whatever might be behind him.

He was standing face to face with this Monkey, who trembled like a leaf in the wind. Ready to bolt at a moment's notice like a frightened kitten.

The thief hesitated, his eyes darting between MK and the approaching voices. For a moment, it seemed he might flee, but then his shoulders sagged, and he took a tentative step towards MK. "I... I feel it too," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Like I've known you my whole life, but we've never met." his brain was screaming at him to run- but his heart, his soul- everything he was from his toes to the tip of his head knew- he had to stay. This was right where he belongs.

MK was nodding wildly, “Yeah- Yeah exactly!” he choked. His heart raced as he reached out, his fingers barely brushing the thief's cheek. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass between them at the contact, and both gasped.

The thief leaned into MK's touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When he opened them again, they were filled with tears. “O-Oh-”

They were whole....

Years of just- just empty existence seemed to weight on their shoulders. They had gotten accustomed to this life. When one was forced to, they could adapt to anything. But to suddenly be given light at the end of the tunnel- it was staggering.

MK surged forward, tugging this man into a hug. If his hands weren’t bound, the thief would have clung to MK with all he had, but for now, all he could do was nuzzle into the Prince’s shoulder. The two were sinking to the floor, small sniffles coming from one, and little chirps coming from the other. MK was nearly tucking the other against him, hiding him away from the world.

He didn’t understand what was going on. How this thief was- was everything he had been looking for, but it didn’t matter. He was here. He was real. And MK was never letting him go again.

The two monkeys clung to each other, their bodies trembling with the intensity of their connection. MK felt as if he'd found a piece of himself he hadn't even known was missing. The thief's scent, his warmth– it all felt achingly familiar and utterly right.

"I've been looking for you," MK whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't even know I was looking, but I've been searching my whole life."

The thief nodded against MK's chest, his bound hands awkwardly between them. "I've felt so lost," he murmured, his voice muffled. "Like I was missing something vital. But now..." He pulled back slightly, gazing into MK's eyes with wonder. "Now I feel whole." he was blubbering at the end, tears so easily flowing from his cheeks.

MK's heart swelled with an overwhelming mix of joy and protectiveness. He brushed a tear away from his own cheek, giving a weak laugh, “What is your name?”

The thief lifted his shoulder to awkwardly rub his cheek to the fabric, trying to clean his face a tad, “Xiaozhizhu.��� he murmured.

"Xiaozhizhu," MK repeated softly. Little… Spider. Ooh- uhhh- it’s fine. It’s fine.

“You don’t like my name,” the man says immediately. MK flinched, stunned he- no, no it wasn’t shocking. Of course, Xiaozhizhu realized. He must have felt how MK recoiled. When MK stammered to explain, Xiaozhizhu’s eyes were set and scrutinizing- almost like he was reading something. “You don’t like spiders,” he says next. A single glance into MK’s mind was all he needed- and something he wasn’t even aware he could really do until that moment. It just came so naturally. As easy as reading a book. “I-I didn’t mean to pry,” he says, realizing what he did now was odd.

MK was wide-eyed, shaking his head, “No no, it’s fine. You… You like spiders,” he took could peer into Xiaozhizhu’s head. Small glimpses and emotions. “They are family to you.”

“Yeah…” Xiaozhizhu nods. “B-But… What is your name?” he perked up a little, tail relaxing, naturally reaching and coiling for MK’s.

“I’m Qi Xiaotian, but I also go by MK.”

Xiaozhizhu's eyes widened in recognition. "The Monkey Prince? I... I've heard stories about you." A flicker of worry crossed his face. "I'm not... Oh, you are here to arrest me.”

MK and Xiaozhizhu both pale. Oh yeah…

With imperfect timing, Red Son and Mei were vaulting behind them, tracking the two using MK’s communicator. “You got him, MK!” Mei whooped.

Red Son stomped forward, his hair flaming with irritation. "Finally! Hand him over, Noodle Boy! It's time this pest faced justice!"

Xiaozhizhu was sinking against MK, hiding his face behind his other half. His ears were flat, eyes trembling.

MK's heart raced as he looked between Xiaozhizhu and his approaching friends. He couldn't let them take him - not now, not when he'd just found his other half. He could feel the churning thoughts of Xiaozhizhu’s own panic- his fear for a cage. His fear of his freedom being taken away. Of letting down his family. Of being alone… again.

No.

In a split second decision, he grabbed Xiaozhizhu's bound hands.

"I got you," he whispered, catching Xiaozhizhu’s startled eyes. He gave a little wink then loudly called out, "OH NO! He's getting away!" With that, MK leapt off the roof, pulling Xiaozhizhu with him. Mei and Red Son were sharply calling after them, running to the edge to peer down. The two plummeted several stories before MK's staff extended, catching on a nearby building and swinging them to safety in the window of the building they clung to.

MK and Xiaozhizhu tumbled through the open window, landing in a heap on the dusty floor of what appeared to be an abandoned office. They lay there for a moment, hearts racing, before MK scrambled to his feet and helped Xiaozhizhu up. He checked him off, dusting off shards of glass.

“Sorry, that was dumb. Sorry-We need to get those cuffs off," MK whispered urgently, glancing towards the window where he could hear Red Son and Mei's distant shouts.

Xiaozhizhu nodded, holding out his bound wrists. "I don’t know how-”

MK was grasping the edges, eyebrows furrowing, “Don’t move.” He concentrated, his eyes glowing with golden energy as he grasped the cuffs. With a sharp twist and a burst of power, the inhibitor cuffs cracked and fell away. Xiaozhizhu gasped as his powers rushed back, flexing his newly freed wrists.

"Thank you," he breathed, rubbing his arms. His eyes darted nervously to the window. "You- You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” MK says. He reached out, gently taking Xiaozhizhu's hands in his own. They chuckled, putting their hands out to let them connect- to feel the connection in detail. "I couldn't let them take you. Not when I've just found you."

Xiaozhizhu's eyes softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. "But... won't you get in trouble? They're your friends, aren't they?"

MK shrugged, his thumb absently tracing circles on Xiaozhizhu's palm. "I'll figure something out. What matters is that you're safe."

The distant shouts of Red Son and Mei grew closer. MK quickly scrambled into his pocket, pulling out a pen. Biting the top of the cap to uncap it, MK quickly scribbled his phone number on Xiaozhizhu's arm. "Call me, okay? We need to talk more, and figure this out. But for now, you need to go."

Xiaozhizhu nodded, his eyes locked on MK's. He clutched his hand closer, careful not to smudge the numbers, "I will. I promise." Tears welled in his eyes again. “Ahh-” he rubbed them with his other hand, slowly inching back.

MK gave a little chuckle, “Cry baby,”

Xiaozhizhu gave him a mild look of anger, “Bye… Xiaotian.”

“Bye, Xiaozhizhu.” MK lifted his hand, prepared to fend off his friends from pursuing Xiaozhizhu with a fake injury or something along the lines, not sure how much time the guy needed. Yet, it was only when Xiaozhizhu stepped into the shadows- stepping right into them, that he understood how he always got away from Red Son and Mei with such ease.

He could manipulate shadows??

MK stood, dumbfounded. It was then that he understood why Xiaozhizhu seemed so familiar. He was the spitting image of his Baba.

Stunned that thought, he stood there with his mouth hanging open, startled when Mei and Red Son were carefully moving through the shattered window to join him.

MK quickly schooled his expression, trying to look disappointed and frustrated as Mei and Red Son clambered through the window.

"What happened?" Mei demanded, her eyes scanning the room. "Where'd he go?"

"I... I lost him," MK said, running a hand through his hair in feigned frustration. "He slipped away when we landed. He's incredibly fast and agile."

Red Son let out a string of colorful curses, kicking a nearby desk. "I can't believe this! We were so close!"

"Did you at least get a good look at him?”

MK hesitated, still not sure what to make of Xiaozhizhu’s face. His Baba’s face. “I... I did see him up close," he admitted carefully. "But it was dark, and everything happened so fast..."

Red Son was throwing his head back with a groan, miffed. Mei on the other hand stood there, staring openly at MK. She titled her head confused.

...Too dark?

But it was never too dark for MK.

Not sure what happened she placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, MK. Any details you can remember could help us track him down. We’ll get him next time. You got closer than any of us did! Now you know what to expect for next time."

MK swallowed hard, his mind racing. “Yeah…” he mumbled. MK nodded, trying to look determined. "You're right. We'll get him next time." He forced a smile, hoping his friends couldn't see the turmoil in his eyes.

As they made their way back to Red Son's workshop, MK's mind whirled with questions. How was Xiaozhizhu connected to his father? Why did he look so much like him? And most importantly, how was he going to protect his newfound other half while still being loyal to his friends and his duties as the Monkey Prince?

This Summer suddenly got a lot more complicated…

[moon-my-beloved]

Wicked Game: a little snippet of the next chapter :3

“I don’t think I can do this.” You mutter nervously, clenching your sweaty palms against the fabric of your gloves for the millionth time that day as you sit in the passenger seat of Laswell’s car. You two had arrived earlier than expected and were now parked outside the house that belonged to the four men Kate had been speaking of these last couple of days. You barely caught any of it though, too busy trying to figure out why you even agreed to do this in the first place.

You had managed to grasp little bits of information from the conversation, at least important ones that Laswell could provide to you. John being the oldest of friends she had met at a London soccer game. A quirk on her lip forming as she recounts how their first conversation, more like a debate, started their friendship. They worked together, in an organization of some sort called ‘Task Force 1-4-1’ taking down bad guys as Laswell simply put it. That’s where the other three come in: Simon, Johnny, and Kyle. She had explained that they all have worked together on various missions she could not disclose but made it clear that these were people she trusted with her life.

“They’re family.” Crow's feet deepened as her eyes crinkled with the smile she wore while talking about them. You knew Laswell would never lie to you but at that moment you felt the warmth in her words with how much compassion and inclination she had for her team.

She had spared any detail of their personal lives, stating that there would be no point in meeting them if she just told you everything that she knew about these men. You’re here to get to know each other, she had said, not knowing that it was probably the last thing you wanted these four guys to accomplish.

It was really meaningless. You would just end up being a small blip in their minds once this whole ordeal is over.

“Getting cold feet on me?” An amused expression written all over her face at your troubling state. Turning off the engine and unbuckling herself, she turns her body to face you as she crosses her arms over her chest “Nervous?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you lean your elbow against the small space between the window and you, rubbing your fingers over your eyes before breaking the silence. “You know I’m not good at whatever this is,” Hand waving desperately in the air and eyes flickering towards the house and hers just to be met with a stoic face as she listens to you ramble about how you just want to go back home like you’re a spoiled child having a tantrum in the middle of a candy store. You might as well be at this point. Pressing your lips together in an attempt to stop yourself from saying too much, you sit up and look at yourself in the front view mirror. “I just don’t know what to do, Kate.”

‘You don’t want to disappoint her.’

A small chuckle can be heard from the woman along with a warm palm against your shoulder breaking you out of your thoughts as you lift your head just enough to meet Kate’s sympathetic yet serious gaze.

“You won’t mess it up if that’s what you’re worried about. I know this can be.. different for you but I promise, things will go great.” A soft smile on her lips as she gives your cheek a small pat before pulling away. “Just let me do the talking and we’ll go off from there, okay? Baby steps.” She reassures you, grabbing the small bags of gifts from the backseat for you to take. “Here, you’ll be my little delivery person for today.” She says as she hops off the car and closes the door behind her.

“Shit- wait!” You give yourself a quick once-over, barely managing to catch up to Kate as you try your very best to avoid any of the small gifts from falling off your arms. “Rude.” You say when you meet Kate at the front door.

“We don’t want to keep the boys waiting with how eager they’ve been to meet my ‘mystery’ friend.” The corner of her lip twitching up into a smirk as she points at the door. “You ready?”

“Just knock.” You say. A bit harsher than you wanted it to come out as you look the other way to find anything to distract yourself from your own misery.

Rolling her eyes, Kate lifts up her hand and lands three solid knocks against the wood of the door, shoving her own hands into the warmth of her puffer jacket. You think you hear Laswell complain about how cold it is before a booming voice can be heard coming from the other side of the door followed by heavy footsteps inching closer.

You tense up, feeling like your heart is about to beat itself out of your rib cage if that’s even possible with how anxious you are.

‘Fuck. Maybe you can make a run for it.’

As if Laswell could sense what you were thinking, she grabs the hem of your coat to hold you in place before the door swings open.

[behindthesoul]

Johnny cradled the velvet box in his hand. In it lay the single most important item he had ever bought: the diamond ring that would, hopefully, symbolize your love for each other. He had scoured at least seven jewelry stores to find a ring you would fall in love with. Hopefully, the one he had chosen would make you happy. Hopefully, he had made you happy.

"You're like an open book!" Johnny recalled you saying to him. He probably smiled and cracked some stupid joke to make you laugh; it's not something he'd remember. During your relationship, he had ripped out the chapters he hated—about his difficult relationship with his dad, his failed past relationships, and his insecurities—neither knowing nor wanting to start a conversation about anything that wasn't "Johnny Cage." Being Jonathan Carlton was a bit too painful.

He didn't want you to read a single page describing how scared he was of this relationship, how he didn't want to mess it up the way he messed up his first marriage. Johnny needed you for the rest of his life; he'd go crazy if he were to lose you.

Johnny knew that it would only be fair to tape the ripped pages back together so you could read his full story. He knew you like the back of his hand, yet you had only seen bits and pieces of his true self.

But dealing with feelings was something he was never taught.

So he decided against proposing today, not ready to face something that scared him more than anything. Johnny hid the box in a closet, behind a few of his clothes. He sighed and walked out of his room to find you.

Maybe another day.

AAAAAA I had an idea for a story and I just had to share a snippet of it. If enough people are interested I’ll write the full thing and have it posted by this weekend. Just lmk if this is an interesting idea!

[acourtofladydeath]

"Take These Broken Wings" Chapter 6

Hello loves! This update has been a LONG time coming, so let's start with recap of Chapter 5, "You Were Only Waiting".

Nesta had a #moment in the bathroom, the past few days too much for her to handle without her old vices. After being found by Feyre, the Valkyries helped Nesta start to address the mess of feelings she's had since Cassian's attempt and the reveal of her new bond to Azriel. Cassian and Azriel had it out, discussing what Cassian did, why, and how their history may have been a factor. Rhysand drops by his brothers’ to be supportive, only to get told off and go on a journey of his own. At the end of the chapter, Nesta is being cared for by her friends, Az and Cass are sleeping peacefully, and Rhysand has faced some demons. And that's what you missed on glee TTBW.

In Chapter 6, our trio reunites, Cassian faces a broken promise, and everyone begins to heal. Alternate title: "The One Where Everyone Gets A Mom".

Feel free to reread the fic from the beginning, read a snippet below, or start the new chapter on AO3!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The first thing Nesta thought when she woke up was that she felt warm - not just physically but emotionally. Nestled between her friends, she knew she was safe there. Soft light shone through the gauzy curtains, and as Nesta looked toward the rays, the House drew them back a little further.  The sun added to the contented haze Nesta found herself in for a moment longer. She breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of her friends and the chocolate croissants the House had conjured. This was what it felt like to be whole, she thought.  But she wasn’t whole, not yet. The bonds in her chest were stirring, twined together as if they embraced each other. Nesta yearned to tug on the strands, pulling the males toward her, especially the new shadowy tethers tenuously strung between herself and Azriel. Broken hearts, the both of them. She’d begun to heal with Cassian; could Azriel learn the same?  That thought sent her reeling out of the calm morning’s embrace. Cassian had been healing her, but she hadn’t considered his pain. Self-loathing crept in, an old friend she knew well, threatening to overwhelm her senses as it closed in around her.  With her breaths coming shorter and faster, Nesta carefully climbed out of bed. The panic that had been her constant companion for so long returned, beat by beat, louder and louder as she walked through the House. She followed the bonds pulling tight within her constricting chest; her eyes closed tight against the swarming darkness that threatened to overwhelm her.  She’d been calm, but how long had she had peace when Cassian had not? Had she been so blind to his trauma? Or was she not as healed as she’d allowed herself to believe? Possible answers swarmed her mind, but she dug deep, feeling the cool stone beneath her bare feet. The sensation helped still her mind long enough to focus on her goal and Nesta focused on the anchors in her chest. She traced the back to the source, thankful they pulled in the same direction, and began to walk.

Read the rest of the chapter here on AO3!

Thank you to @chunkypossum, @queercontrarian, and @pippsmcgee for helping beta and develop this chapter!

Please let me know if you would like on or off my taglist! @pippsmcgee @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yanny-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @amalhe-kofee , @molcat07 , @climbthemountain2020 , @the-darkestminds

[roseniceblade-blog]

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. first impressions ╭──╯ . . . . .

russell adler x oc

summary: returning to the job you love, after some unsettling events, you try to welcome new changes. Some more mysterious than others....

authors note: Okay, I know this should be on my writing blog, but I have more Adler stuff on here, I think. I'm also still working on my Crossover story that more chapters are coming out. To be honest, I had the oc idea for a while but didn't know how to execute, so this is just a little snippet drabble of that idea.

“They're late.” CIA Russell Adler commented to his fellow teammate Alex Mason as Adler took a casual puff from his cigarette. Amsterdam; 1981 — they're moving on a target but someone's missing.

“They'll be here.” Mason assured.

“Are you sure about that? How do you know your friend is trustworthy?”

“Trust me, she's one of the best.” Adler gave him a confused look.

“She?”

“Problem?”

“...Nope, not at all.” Adler trailed on as sees the contact they're meeting with, however, someone was by their hip. He had to do a double take when he glanced her way. He would never admit it, but he could've sworn she almost took his breath away.

“Well, Mr. Hans, here is my good friend and his colleague. I'm sure you know them well.” You greeted the two men. You wanted to start off strong since it's been a while since being in the field. Hudson did you a kindness after something happened to you recently. He's helped you before, so you helped too.

“Come on. Woods is itching for a dust up.” Alex's friend said. “Don't want to let him down.” This is the first time you met him and he's…an interesting character. All three of us walked out but you managed to time an interception by clearing your throat. Alex turned behind him, owing you an explanation since Hudson didn't explain EVERYTHING to you.

“Oh yea, forgot.” Alex chuckled as you playfully whack his shoulder.

“Dude!” He feigned getting hurt but you knew he was just messing with you. Like old times…God, you'd miss that. More than they'll ever know..

“Sorry ‘bout that. Adler, meet Vanessa Hansley; one of the best people you'll ever meet. Vanessa, meet Russell Adler.” Alex introduced. Looking at this mystery man, curiously. It was took dark out so you couldn't see his face that well.

“Yeah, we'll do introductions later. Let's get Qasim.” Adler brushed off, walking towards Frank.

Huh, some guy.

╒══════════════════════════════════════════════╛

Within a few hours, you're donning your old combat gear, boots, the whole shebang. It's been a long time but luckily it still fits. You're about to put on your “war paint”; Frank recommended it years ago and helped. Starting until a certain individual in aviators appeared from the side.

You know you're doing it wrong, right?” Jolting, you turn towards the direction of the voice and was a bit relieved. “Jumpy, huh?” He teased. You scoff at the false claim.

“No, I'm not jumpy. Also, I actually am doing it right.” Ignoring him, you continue. He walks closer and sits down in the mundane motel room we're using to prep for the mission at the airport.

“I can see your face still…I can help.”

“No, thank you. It's just —”

“Just come over here.” He insisted. Not wanting to argue further, you walk over to sit on the bed and Adler brings the chair over to sit in front. He doesn't say a word. Just placed the paint jar on the small nightstand and began working. He was…gentle? Of course, her first impression was that of he's the type of guy who puts business/work before everything. Especially of how he brushed her off when they first met. But now he's this close to you, definitely not what you thought originally. ‘Not that bad looking either’ you thought. God, Vanessa, get a grip! You just met him! You were able to get your thoughts in check as he continued to take his time.

“I'm sorry that you got to do this.” You speak carefully as the paint doesn't get in your mouth. “Usually I can do this — done it plenty of times in the past but…I'm a bit rusty…” Alder gazes at you, saying nothing for a few moments.

“Rusty? You didn't seem that way back on the rooftops.” He said. Chuckling, you sigh at the mayhem of what just occurred the past few hours.

“Well, yeah but to be honest, it was just mostly adrenaline. Anger too…”

“Really? Why?” You're hesitant to reveal such sensitive info to a stranger, hell you haven't told Mason and Woods yet. However…

“Yeah…a lot's happened in the span of like 2 days. Also I was supposed to “resign” but Hudson never finalized it.”

“Now, why resign?” Adler asked, curiously.

“Oh hey now, this isn't ‘20 questions to only one person’. What about you, what's your story?” You asked. He sadly went silent again as he finished up. Apologizing again for intruding, he just gave you a small smirk. He could see why Mason was so confident in you and your skills. “Well, I do think of myself as an excellent listener. I hope we can be friends…you need them in this line of work.” You confessed.

“Hmm…maybe. Who knows?”

“Oh, who know?” you mocked, “I'll have you know I'm so fun to be around! Like uber fun!”

“Yeah?” He playfully rolled his eyes.

“Uhhh, yea and —” A knock emitted behind Adler, cutting off our conversation.

“Yo, hurry up there, we gotta go!” Frank yelled out, disrupting the awkward tension. You gathered the rest of the necessary equipment and started to walk out.

“To be continued..” Adler said as he opened the door for you, both of us walking into who knows what for this mission.

[porkcutletbowl44]

Simon Riley/Reader and Keegan/Reader

Hi. I have come out of a almost 6 year writing hiatus and decided to start posting works again. (Yippie😅) I woke up in cold sweat one day about this particular story line and just started writing it down until I gathered the courage to share it... This is a snippet from the 2nd chapter I have on AO3 (I have no clue how to use AO3 in terms of writing OR Tumblr for that fact pls help 😭) but, I'd like to hear some thoughts about how it is, (yay or nay?) aaaannnnddd first ever post on Tumblr whoop! (Apologies for spelling and grammar I still haven't completely edited the chapters fully)

After a few weeks, the divorce was finalized. And those weeks quickly grew into just shy of two months. you didn't even notice, you didn't have the time to even keep up with your own body living in the present. Your daughter didn't deserve to see her mother in shambles like this. Didn't deserve to watch her parents divorce simply because of the lack of communication you hammered into her little head from a young age to express when she was frustrated her sippy cup lid wasn't screwed on all the way and spilled a sticky mess of apple juice all over her chest. Communication, that's an important ingredient. Remember. Communication cannot exist without comprehension. You can bring the horse to water but you cannot force it to drink. You thought you had it all, a loving husband, a beautiful child, a safe home, it was temporary. Ripped from your fingers like a purse stolen by a thief. You will only helplessly watch as your things are being taken from you. 

You will continue to claw at your chest and whimper like a wounded animal.

It does not get easier, even right now when it's time for Simon to take Fawn for the weekend again. You can bear the awkward tension, that silence that makes your throat close up and forces your voice to a weak frail squeak. You kept your attention somewhat busy with your work laptop, there are only four emails and you take the time to thoroughly read them, typing calmly to avoid confrontation. 

He stood in the kitchen quietly, watching your back. He had a strange lump forming in his throat, his expression hardening as he pushed down all of his emotions, trying not to focus on the guilt and hurt churning inside his chest.

You signed the papers, just like he asked you to.

Simon forced himself to speak, clearing his throat loudly, "Shouldn't you be packing Fawn's stuff?"

"Fawn insisted on packing herself," you gave a half-shrug, "I said why not? It's good for her to learn it and have the harmless joy."

He couldn't help but give a rough scoff at that. You would spoil her too easily. Simon took a few steps, setting his hands down on the kitchen counter, his gaze fixed on your form.

"She'll end up forgetting somethin'. I better go help 'er." He spoke casually, intending to go to check on Fawn and help her pack But something made him hesitate, his gaze snapping back on you. It only made his chest and lungs squeeze tighter as he looked at your closed-off demeanor. His eyes zeroed in on your fingers typing lazily, a strange suffocating feeling overcame him as he tried to figure out how he should address the lack of the wedding band on your finger.

Should he pretend like everything is fine? Would you want to talk?

There was an unnatural suffocating silence that felt like an elephant in the room, a strange tension between the two of you that only made him want to hold his breath. The air was so thick and tense- so unlike the normal energy in the kitchen that was once filled with the smell of your delicious cooking and the squealing laughter of Fawn whenever Simon would occasionally rough house with you while the both of you shared the foot space to cook. 

"...You took your ring off," Simon observed in a quiet, defeated tone.

what did he expect?

you stop your typing, your fingers ghosting over typing basic Python codes to your coworker, and you look down on instinct before clearing your throat. Your finger is empty. You will not admit that you took it off once you heard the news.

"Yeah, I did. It's next to the coffee maker if you want it back—oh, congratulations on your engagement." You hesitated before even saying those words. You never thought you would have to say to Simon. Your throat was dry, and your tongue burned at each syllable. 

His heart dropped the instant your words registered in his head, his expression darkening even more than before as a harsh scoff escaped him, his hands clenching tightly into fists as he tried to ignore the sharp pain in his chest.

"What…" His jaw hardened, and a look of disbelief crossed his features, "Who the hell told you that?"

"Johnny already told me," You replied, twisting on the stool to look at him, still in your work blouse and office pants. 

"Of course he did.." He muttered beneath his breath, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Bloody Soap.."

Simon took a deep breath and turned to look at you, his expression cold and hard, his gaze dark and icy. The mention of his engagement only made his fingers clench on the counter, and his gaze darkened as he heard your cold, dry tone. His eyes shifted towards the band next to the coffee maker, his mouth twisting into a frown at the lone ring he bought you all those years ago. 

That ring had been on your finger for 7 years.

Now it lay lifeless on the counter.

How the tables have turned.

"...thanks." He muttered out quietly, before looking back down at the floor. 

"yeah well, I would have found out even if Johnny didn't tell me. I would have seen the ring on you either way." You crossed your arms loosely with a small frown. You also won't mention you saw his fiancée's post about it.

He has an unreadable expression on his face as his shoulders straightened. "It would've been a hell of a lot more polite if I was the one who told you." He muttered lowly, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep his emotions in check. But the sight of you without the ring on your finger was eating away at him, like acid seeping into his skin. The mother of his child, divorced.

"You wouldn't tell me, I think that's why Johnny mentioned it...Fawn don't forget your toothbrush!" You called out, hearing her near the kitchen before bolting back down the hallway into the bathroom. You silently thank the universe for that interference. 

A humorless scoff escaped him, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Johnny knew you, he knew that you were the type to get pissed off at secrets and such. So he told you, thinking it would be easier to swallow for you. 'It's not.; Simon muttered in his head, gritting his teeth tightly as he tried to hold back his emotions.

"for the best, right?" You mumbled under your breath, looking up at him.

He could feel the pain and hurt in your gaze as you looked up at him, making his heart clench painfully the longer he looked at you.

Of course it's not for the best.

He wanted more than anything to pull you into his arms, to kiss you, tell you how he regrets ever saying something so stupid, how he wanted to take everything back.

But he didn't.

He couldn't. So all he said was a cold: "You tell me."

You didn't reply, just humming quietly in acknowledgment before Fawn's happy self came into the kitchen practically bouncing with excitement to spend time with her dad. Simon watched quietly as Fawn barreled into the room with her bag in one hand, her excitement radiating.

He tried not to let his emotions show on his face, masking it with a neutral expression as he looked over at his daughter. It was impossible to tell her parents were going through a divorce. She was still young of course, so it wasn't that surprising.

Simon just couldn't help but envy her innocence.

A bitter thought in his head made him hate himself even more.

He couldn't help but try to hold that small smile that formed at his eyes as he saw her excitement, "You 'ave everythin' you need?" The question was mainly directed at you, since you were the one that knew what she needed.

You beckoned Fawn over, kneeling before her. You softly grabbed her shoulders with an assuring smile. 

"Hairbrush? Socks and shoes? Jacket? And toothbrush?"

He hovered in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you check over Fawn, watching how gentle you were with her. Simon scoffed at this, shaking his head. "She's a mini version of you."

A pang of longing hit him, watching how you cared for her, his heart feeling heavy.

"Check, got all that," Fawn confirmed, nodding her head excitedly as her bright eyes lit up.

"Good, you did a good job packing all by yourself." You forced a smile Fawn would believe, smoothing her hair back. You were proud of her after all, doing big girl things all by herself. 

A wave of dread washed over him, he couldn't fucking stand this; that he was the reason. "Monster." something meanly cackled in the back of his head. He felt like a bastard for even having you sign those papers without fighting for it, watching everything he once had slip out of his fingers.

Watching how you forced a smile instead of truly showing it to your own fucking daughter.

God, he was a jackass.

"Remember your manners, be good, and you can call me for anything at all, okay? Anything you need, hun." You murmured, giving her little cheek a kiss.

He watched the two of you interact, his chest feeling heavy and tight. Fawn nodded her head quickly with a bright smile, giving you a big hug before waving a little.

"Bye, momma." She said cutely before rushing over to her father and grabbing his hand, waving her free one out.

His expression hardened, his gaze snapping on you as you looked away, keeping up the happy mom façade for the sake of Fawn.

He hated seeing you like this, forced to pretend like everything was okay when it was far from that. How was it fair for you to be forced to pretend to be happy? It didn't sit right with him, it just didn't feel fair. He held his eyes on you a moment longer before looking down to hold Fawn's hand in his. 

"C'mon now, let's get goin'." He murmured gruffly, trying to muster a small smile for his daughter.

The walk to the car was silent, Fawn skipping her way to the car, Simon walking beside with her little handheld in his, his expression unreadable and cold. He stopped by the backseat of the car, opening the door to let Fawn in as he looked to the passenger seat. Where you would sit. Where you will probably never sit again.

His mind warred with it, a scowl crossing his face. He wanted you in the passenger seat, just like you used to always sit in. He wanted the same routine every time he picked up Fawn from school.

But he couldn't have that.

Simon gritted his teeth, shoving those thoughts aside as he forced his expression back to a stoic one, watching as Fawn climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in. He slowly shut the door with a quiet click, looking to the front and climbed into the driver's seat. The car started, and Fawn waved happily behind the window as they drove off. Mentally, you cuss Simon out to drive safely for Fawn before turning back inside. 

[myriadparacosm]

Black Beats Black - snippet 2 chapter 9: Blazing Star

because this part still makes me laugh

"How come you're so fine with it?"

"Wormy, shut it," James says with a scowl. "I'm starting to think you're actually plotting— are you?"

Peter throws him a flat look and glances at Sirius. "Why would I do that? I just find it weird that Sirius almost threw his brother in your arms."

"I can't just be a nice supportive brother?" Sirius argues but he doubts that Peter is actually trying to mess with them. "And I didn't throw them in each other's arms. I just saw good— opportunities."

"Well, you and Regulus don't really get along. Until now. And then Prongs is all— Prongs."

"What? What does that mean?" James asks when he sees Remus nodding wisely at Peter's words.

"And that's exactly why."

"Oi, insult me to my face at least."

"It's a compliment, Prongs," Sirius dismisses.

"I'm pretty sure we agreed that we never date mate's siblings. Don't you remember with Marlene's sister?"

"What's that?" Remus perks up at Sirius' gasp.

"Shut it!"

"She had this gigantic crush on Sirius."

"It's not my fault!"

"Meryl?"

James nods. "And Peter has always been sweet on her-"

He gasps. "That's not true!"

"Oh, you liar," Sirius hisses because it's his fault that it was even brought up.

"What happened?" Remus asks.

James grins viciously. Sirius kicks at the table's foot instead of his shin as he throws him a dark look. "That was the first time Sirius could sleep over, back in second year, and we had Marlene over with Meryl."

"She studies in— Belgium, right?"

"Yeah at the Naaszcademy. Meryl was pretty much always into Magizoology so she only did her first 4 years here, passed exams to enter the school and studies there for— another year, I reckon? She is doing a speciality or something."

Sirius busies himself with his butterbeer. Peter shoots him an accusing look, to which he replies with a scoff and foam spitting around.

"I vaguely remember her. She was in Ravenclaw, right?"

"She was. Wormy and I knew since we were children and he had this huge-"

"I didn't!"

"You let her do everything on you."

"Woah."

"We were playing healers!"

"And potioners. And tailors. And magizoologist."

Peter glares at James with flaming cheeks before turning on Sirius. "Anyhow, she met Sirius once when we slept over at James and Sirius broke his heart."

"I didn't!"

"You did!"

James shakes his head at them and leans across the table to reach Remus. "See, Wormy liked Meryl who was seduced-"

"I didn't seduce anyone!" Sirius exclaims.

"So it was an awkward weekend."

Remus chuckles, amused eyes pausing on Sirius as if it's his fault. "I can imagine."

"I didn't do anything," he insists with a scowl. "I was just having fun with my mates and she was there!" His head snaps toward Peter muttering in his drink. "How is it my fault?! I was only twelve! And you could have told her something."

Peter blushes and his jaw tightens in indignation. "Not with you around."

"Merlin, you're a prat."

"You're a slag!"

"Obviously nothing happened," James resumed. "Marlene got pissed that Meryl pestered her about Sirius and she made this huge scene after the break that no one is dating anyone's siblings because that would be disgusting. We all agreed."

Peter scoffs. "And yet you're dating Sirius' brother, hence breaking the deal."

Remus bursts out laughing at that and Sirius straightens in his seat to look at James.

"That's true!"

"No! We promised about sisters, si-sters," James insists. "And back then you weren't even talking to Regulus."

"Oh, this is such a low blow! You know it counts and we did say siblings!" He argues, despite the half-truth. At that time, Regulus had been barely on his mind. How foolish.

"Brotherfucker," Peter mutters.

Sirius slaps his hand on the table. "I should have tattoed-" Remus quickly hushes him- "that on your lying arse!"

"Regulus wasn't part of the deal!"

"He is my brother!"

James pauses. "Well, it was about sisters."

"It was about siblings!"

[kaliforniahigh]

Creative anon back here 👋 not on anon because you can't send media that way (boo). When I remembered this clip, I had to make it for the missing Noah idea and share it with you. Ignore the continuity errors with his hair length, we can just pretend. It wouldn't be complete without another little snippet on what I would consider the start to the first chapter.

You can hear Noah talking to someone as you enter the house, carrying another box in from the truck. "Don't say that!" You bark out from behind the large object obscuring you from his view, only to be met with a laugh in response.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You don't like horror movies." He's taunting you and you just roll your eyes, he's heard the speech you're ready to retort with about a million times.

It's not that you don't like horror movies, you just don't like those horror movies, ones like Paranormal Activity which sometimes feel too grounded in reality for your comfort. You want to watch a horror movie that doesn't toy with your imagination or your unnerving belief that you may not be entirely alone in this world.

"What are you doing?" You change the topic after setting down the box and dodge the camera when Noah pans it in your direction. 

"Doing a house tour." You hear the duh in his tone and laugh. You don't know why he feels the need to do a house tour, or even who for.

Opening the box you put down, you pull out the cushion which had been placed on top to pad the rest of the boxes contents. "Who for? Besides I need you to give me a hand with this stuff." You toss the cushion in his direction, hoping to strike him while he's preoccupied by the camera in his hands, but he's swift, dodging it right before it makes contact.

"Good point." He looks up at you, playfully scowling at your futile attempt to hit him with the cushion and closes the small screen on the side of the camera before setting it down on the nearby table. 

Your front room is a mess with boxes, many of which have various room locations written on them but the idea of taking them into there rightful place feels like too much of a task on top of emptying out the remaining boxes from the truck. You wonder how likely it is that you could convince him to bring in all of the remaining boxes himself while you throw yourself down on the couch, already tired and exhausted from the early start.

You don't have time to even consider voicing your proposition before Noah's behind you, playfully swatting at your behind as he ushers you to move. "Come on, chop chop. Those boxes aren't going to move themselves, bubs."

You relent with a throaty growl, feeling his hands on your shoulders and squeezing them as guides you back out.

CREATIVE ANON IDENTITY REVEALED!!!!!

Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 to this.

I'm just imagining reader seating on her couch and watching all of these videos back once Noah goes missing. And she just feels so sad because she feels like she could've spent more time with him, could've talked to him more, could've gone out with him more, could've let him record their lives more.

Even though she knows that dwelling on the past won't make the pain go away, she desperately wishes she could hear his voice again, feel his warmth again and have him tell her that everything is going to be ok, just like he's always done.

[hestzhyen]

Leap of (Lack of) Faith

There's some discourse about Hakuri's suicide attempt in chapter 24 going around on Twitter that got me thinking. Well, actually, I just want to share my own pointless take. Yeah, I genuinely want to be perceived for once. But I hate trying to communicate in 240-character snippets on that hellsite, so I'll post here to rot in obscurity where I'm most comfortable.

Basically, there was a post in the Kagurabachi Twitter community that requested to talk about the abuse flashback-jump sequence. And yeah, uh, I'm kind of surprised at how little it gets brought up too. To quote myself:

Please don't ask me why I have three different usernames- there's no satisfying answer.

It's been a while since chapter 24 happened, so let's recap the lead up to this important moment. We first see Hakuri in Ch. 19 with his drink spilling out of his mouth, putting his inner monologue about "hav[ing] to grit your teeth and push through" to the lie. The very first shot of him, the very first food metaphor we see with him, is Hakuri being unable to cope. We don't know why he lost his his family, but he's clearly alone and not doing well. He's struggling.

Next thing we see is him being coincidentally saved by Chihiro. We get a full page of him narrating his impression of the moment, showing us the contrast between his desire to do some unspecified "job" and his fatalistic frame of mind. Then we learn he's weak as hell even though his heart's in the right place. He saves a little girl and insists on being taken back to the Yakuza's hideout, leading him to get kicked around and beaten up. He's a bloody, scribbly-eyed mess by the time he meets Chihiro for real. And this is exactly how we are supposed to see him until the moment he jumps in chapter 24.

It's so, so easy to overlook the hints towards Hakuri's painful past due to the way he's written. Most of his actions and dialogue are framed in a comedic way to bounce off of Chihiro's stoicism. Hakuri's pessimistic inner monologues when he's being hurt or nearly killed are right at home in this demographic too- wimps start at their lowest to leave lots of room to grow. And Shounen series always have a weak, lonely kid who's inspired to become strong. It's extremely standard stuff. But this moment right here was probably the biggest, most blatant hint that he's got more to his circumstances than the average zero-to-hero character:

That tiny little panel of him casually smearing the blood from his nose while he talks to Chihiro lives rent-free in my head. It's a throwaway motion in the moment, and not really out of place in an ultra-violent series like Kagurabachi. But compare that to how Azami -a professional combat sorcerer and war veteran!- screamed when he realized his hand was sliced in chapter 7, or how Chihiro is often shown wincing and having to adjust to his injuries. These characters definitely feel the hits that land on them. But the most hilariously pathetic character yet acts like the beat-down he received never happened. Nor like he's surrounded by bloody corpses. Hakuri is not only used to violence, he's used to it experiencing it.

Again, this is all framed in a comedic way due to his over-the-top personality and expressions. He's a freakish mess on the floor after taking the hit from Hiyuki, sobs in a silly way over Chihiro's backstory, is called "weak" and "a moron" and "a mess" by other characters, on and on. Hakuri's not written like he's supposed to be taken seriously after the first few pages we see of him.

The only other moments of foreshadowing came in chapter 23 as a set of blink-and-you'll miss panels and the last scene:

Hakuri's clenched, shaking fist when he talks about his "scary" older siblings isn't a huge tell. Neither is the insistence that they'd kill him on sight. We can comfortably assume that he's afraid of the consequences of betraying his powerful family despite being a weakling- that's where most authors would have gone with this scenario. But then why does his big brother Soya look so happy to see him? Was Hakuri over-reacting again when he talked about his family? Something's off here, but it's impossible to say exactly what.

The next chapter starts. Chihiro and Shiba are facing off against the Tou and it's looking tense. Chihiro flashes back to his dad talking about the Shinuchi, the fight's about to begin- but it cuts to Soya being a pretty normal person who misses his little brother.

And then we see this.

Suddenly a whole new and very serious dimension is added to Hakuri's character. He's not a goofy weakling that's going to improve himself with some determination and a training arc: he's a victim of abuse. This is the signal that the Sazanamis are truly fucked up more than we know, setting the stage for the major themes of the Rakuzaichi arc. And it makes re-reading those little bits of foreshadowing so much more painful.

This scene is the "oh shit" equivalent of Chihiro finding Char's severed leg in the car- yeah, the author really went there. And it's not even the last time we'll get a moment like this for Hakuri. The Ice Lady chapter is rightly remembered for it's impact, but Hakuri choosing to commit suicide should be held up alongside it IMO. Again: the author really went there, and not just for the shock value.

This moment should be remembered far more often than it is. It was the pivot from Hakuri being a generic potential sidekick into a complex and fully-realized character. Hakuri found people who could help him. Who treated him kindly. Who inspired him. But he chose death in an instant when his past came back to haunt him. Despite his improved circumstances, he had no hope for the future. He only felt fear and the urge to escape from looming torment.

Looking at what we know up to this chapter alone... how can you not feel for him? This goofy, ridiculous mess of a boy is really truly hurting and probably has been for years. But like many victims, he downplays and doesn't talk about it. He just tries to escape via whatever means he can.

So it burns me up that people are still reducing him to Chihiro's silly sidekick. If this scene was somehow not enough to dispel that notion, consider that Chihiro probably doesn't know that Hakuri had all those tools used on him, much less anything about Ice Lady. He knows that Hakuri was regularly ganged up on and beaten, and probably could infer that Kyoura deliberately looked away. But we haven't seen Hakuri talk about in detail about how "someone set him on the right path", nor mention taking a flying leap, nor share what's in his storehouse. He's still got a hell of a lot of literal and metaphorical pain he keeps inside. In the right circumstances, Hakuri could jump again.

Talk about this scene more often! REMEMBER it more often!

[softxsuki]

Alo!!

1.5k is such a huge number omg! Congrats!!!!!!

Id love to participate in your trope drabble event.

Trope 15 with the haikyuu fandom and a fem!reader.

Thank you and congrats again!!! Many hugs 🤗

1.5k Follower Event Trope #15 Haikyuu

Trope 15: You fall first, but he falls harder

This event is now closed. You can view the masterlist here.

| Pairing: Oikawa x Fem!Reader | Genre: Fluff | Post-Type: Drabble | Word Count: 630 |

Warnings: Kissing

Note: ...hi. The way I keep promising to finish these on time and it just never happens bc writers block slaps me in the face. Shout out to my friend for giving me some inspo with this since Oikawa is her man. IDK why he was the first face to pop up in my head when I thought of this trope, but it worked out. I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. I've come to realize how hard it is to write a whole trope progression in just 500 words. These need to be full chapter stories honestly. BUT HERE WE GO a snippet of what this would look like with Oikawa! ANON, I hope you're still around to see this NFKEAKJ. I'm the worst.

“Eyes on me gorgeous,” Oikawa hums against your lips before his game, possessing your lips in front of the crowd with a smirk, as a few of his fangirls whine in the background.

You wore one of his spare jerseys he had given you a few months after getting together and you’d worn it to every match with pride ever since.

“Of course, who else would I be looking at?” You laugh, pressing another quick peck to his lips, taking his hands in yours.

“Hmm Iwa-chan?” He pouts, remembering how loud you cheered for his teammate and best friend at last week’s match when he scored the winning point. He wasn’t pleased at all and was a pouty mess the whole time when walking you back home. Cute.

“Oh stop you big baby, you know I’m your biggest supporter here, so knock them off their feet, Toru,” you smirk, giving his hand a squeeze.

“You better be,” he smiles, patting your head. “See you after the match?” He asks slowly, his eyes bright.

“Of course. I’ll be watching the whole time. Now go before your coach pops a blood vessel,” you laugh, shaking your head as the coach screams for Oikawa again, clearly stressed about the match. With one last nod, he waves at you with a little wink before running off to the court.

The crowd roars with excitement as each group huddles together for their pregame pep talk, hyping each other up for the match that would soon start. You slowly make your way back up the bleachers, taking your seat where you’d cheer for your cocky setter boyfriend, feeling a little reminiscent of how you got here.

It felt like only yesterday when you were on these same bleachers cheering for Oikawa before he even knew you existed. It took one leap of faith to approach him after the sea of his fangirls had dispersed, leaving him alone after his successful match. You had quietly approached him, handing him the small gift bag you had prepared with a few snacks and other things you hoped he would like. 

It was at that moment when he felt his heart melt. The girl he had never seen before had then taken over his every waking minute. Your attention and praise was more wholesome than the compliments he was thrown by his fans. He couldn’t help the thought that crossed his mind as you quickly ran off as soon as your friends called you. I’m gonna marry that woman. Cliche, yes, but his heart was completely yours after that day. 

Knowing you were his fan, he’d look for you in the crowd before his match, wanting to catch a glimpse of you before the game, hoping you were there watching him and cheering him on. One match in particular made his heart stop when he spotted you standing there, a beautiful smile on your face as you wore a fan-made jersey with his number on it. He felt glued in place, until Iwaizumi smacked him on the shoulder to bring him back to their game-plan to make sure they were all on the same page. That was the day Oikawa decided he’d make you his one day.

You shake your head, remembering the day he had asked you out; how nervous the cocky captain was, though it had all paid off in the end. At that moment, Oikawa smacks the ball, shaking you from your thoughts. He had just won the game for his team as they all run to smash him into a group hug.

As usual, as the boys surround him, his eyes dart to the crowd until they find yours, a large smile appearing on his face as he sees you already screaming in celebration from their win. What a lucky man he was.

Posted: 8/26/2024