#I'm just assuming that no matter what he gave himself his first and middle name

[tazmiilly]

fiddleford's middle name is "hadron". the term "hadron" was coined in 1962 and, according to google ngram viewer, didn't really take off until 1965 (in terms of replacing the previous term "strongly interacting particle"). according to the gravity falls wiki fiddleford is 72 years old in 2012, meaning he was born in 1940 or -41, a full two decades before the word was invented. even if the specific age of 72 is inaccurate, he must have been born at the latest in 1957 in order to have attended backupsmore university with stanford in 1975. fiddleford's parents absolutely did not give him the name hadron. fiddleford gave himself the name at age 21-ish. fiddleford hadron mcgucket is transgender. happy friday

fiddleford winning 1st place in transgender. most trans guy of all time.

[sillyguy99]

Pray that you will not fall into temptation (Mafiafell | Sans x Reader)

Chapter 1: Night Visit

Notice:

(The reader has a nun name, meaning: a holy name given to be used by others in place of a real name, such as “Sister Magdalene” instead of just “(Y/N)”, in this specific case.)

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

               Blood drips from the remnants of the bottle.

               It stains the carpet, as does your robe when you kneel and reach out for the victim.

               He lies on the ground, what he'd worn to hide his appearance now gone from his face. What confirms him to be the same man you'd helped recently is the medicine vial he's clutching, and which he saves in his pocket as he groans and rubs at where you've hit him. His jaw is clenched, and there's the faint scent of smoke emanating from his body.

               “I'm so, so sorry,” you whisper, crouching before him and leaning in.

               You've never seen a skeleton bleed before.

               In fact, before last week – when this same monster man had shown up at your door begging for human medicine – you had not seen a living, breathing skeleton at all.

               Your hand presses on his trembling shoulder, and you try not to recoil when you feel a faint warmth emanate from his body.

               “I didn't think you would-”

               You're cut off by laughter, and you look back to his skull to see he's opened his eye sockets.

               He places a palm on his injury as he pushes you aside and stands up.

               “my fault, i'll admit,” he says, grinning. “i’ve seen ya pour that sparkling wine before like it's been sent to you by god himself. the last thing i expected was you goin' for my head like you're a professional baseball player aimin’ for the world record.”

               He laughs louder, so you have to stand up, rush back to him, and press a palm against his teeth.

               And – wasting no opportunity – he immediately licks it, though you don't recoil.

               “I've had snot smeared on my robe, vomit spilled on my chest and lap, and grubby hands cup my face just to say something to me,” you state, pressing harder. “I can assure you a little saliva won't-”

               A hand grabs your rear, and the other holds the wrist of the hand you'd intended to smack him away with.

               You still don't set his mouth free, and that seems to flash amusement into his gaze.

               “Stoop that low, and I won't hesitate to shove my crucifix into your eye socket.”

               His hand removes itself from your rear.

               At that, you set his mouth free and step back.

               “i came to say thank you,” he says, again reaching for his injury as he walks to your bed and sits in the middle. “frisk's been alright, no – more than alright, since they took that medicine you gave them.”

               “They're the Monster Ambassador, are they not?” you comment, arriving at your dresser, where you fetch a first aid kit. “I assume hospitals want little to do with them, if they are the reason for people's anger toward… your kind’s integration into our world.”

               You take it, sit next to the monster, and retrieve some salve, alcohol, and cotton balls.

               “If you ever need more, you can gladly visit, but…" You douse the cotton with alcohol and wipe it across the injury. “But not like this. It is late in the night, and you've sneaked into my room… as if you're a teenage boy looking for some action in a highschool flick.”

               Next comes the salve and a gauze with two strips of tape.

               “And then, to make matters worse, you show up in a disguise.”

               You remove the coat over his shoulders and fold it, placing it on the bedside table when you're finished.

               “I can hardly see you as is with the dim candlelight. What do you think was going to happen – You showing up at my bed like we are roommates with scarce living accommodations? I was not going to say:  ‘Welcome home, darling!’, nor was I going to softly embrace you.”

               When you look up to make eye contact again, you see he's grinning from ear to ear.

               “Tell me what's so funny,” you ask, placing your palm over his chest. “My veil… Is it crooked?”

               Instead of answering, a hand holds your chin, and his thumb traces over your upper lip.

               “all this time,” he replies, trailing off with a fit of chuckles. “you've…”

               Horror cascades onto your body when you see he wipes something white off your face and licks it clean.

               “you've been talkin’ to me with a milk moustache.”

               It's your duty to cover his mouth once more, his laughter further booming – giving you no time to shrivel up with embarrassment in a corner of your room.

               “Why didn't you say so sooner?”

               He shrugs, then licks your palm again.

               “And please, stop that. If you want me to find it gross or arousing, it is neither.”

               Be that as it may, the word ‘arousing’ flickers prominent brightness into his irises.

               And now, you've come to the conclusion you've taken a terribly wrong step.

               His hands reach for your hips, pulling you forward and onto his lap.

               It's there that he faces an obstacle: the length of your skirt impeding him from parting your legs. He grabs a handful of the fabric and lifts it to your knees, then brings you close until you're straddling him. Your refusal to let his mouth free for the second time declares it more difficult to do anything against him, and yet you'd rather endure this than risk having him be loud and your Sisters finding someone unknown in your room.

               He kisses your palm.

               And after, his hands move toward your veil, slipping under it and stopping on the back of your neck.

               “What do I need to do for you to stop that?”

               You pull your hand back, though you keep it close – just in case.

               “i wanna spend time with you.”

               Before you can shut him up again, he grabs your wrists and tugs you closer, until you're nearly pressed against his chest.

               “...Why?”

               “i think i like you.”

               He lets go, then places his hands back on your hips.

               “i’m curious about you, and i wanna get to know you better.”

               “Is that all? It doesn't sound like you genuinely mean what you say.”

               Knock-knock.

               For the third time, you press your palm against his mouth.

               And he does the same, muting both the words you planned to respond to the person behind the door with and the gasp his actions draw out from you.

               “shut up,” he whispers, after brushing your hand off. “don't say a thing, and they won't find out.”

               Another set of knocks is heard, and footsteps fade when receiving no answer.

               He pulls his hand back and removes your veil.

               “if anyone asks, tell them ya don't know nothin’, and-”

               Footsteps sound once more – quicker now.

               “-and fake you've been sleepin’.”

               The doorknob rattles.

               He lifts you off his lap, straightens out your skirt, and the rest happens too quickly for you to take it all in.

               His hands roaming your body as he puts you to sleep, and the whoosh of the wind as he's gone with the blink of an eye, messes caused by his abrupt presence and your reaction towards it cleaned right as the doorknob ceases rattling. A dresser once littered with a variety of items you’d set aside while searching for first aid is tidier than how you'd left it. The few items scattered on the bed have been put away, as well. Similarly, the wrinkled carpet has been fixed, and the glass shards from the broken wine bottle have all been picked up. Everything’s in its rightful place, and the only objects out are the empty mug of milk on the bedside table and your veil folded next to it. Evidence of there being anyone else before would be complicated to find for someone as skilled as a detective.

               When it rattles again, an unknown force pushes you back to bed and closes your eyes.

               “Sister!” a familiar tone calls out, accompanied by the sound of the door slamming against the wall. Are you alright? We all heard a man's voice, and Sister Gabriel said that she…”

               Her footsteps come closer.

               “She…”

               Try as you might, you can't move an inch.

               Something impedes from acting upon your thoughts. 

               “Sister Magdalene?”

               There's the sound of her walking closer, along with the fabric of her robe shuffling.

               Soon after, she rests her palm against your forehead.

               “Oh, dear,” she exclaims, removing her hand and placing it on your cheek. “You're burning up!”

               You can't move.

               You can't speak.

               You can barely open your eyes.

               “Sister Gabriel, come- come quickly!”

               There's the sound of more footsteps – incredibly rushed and clearly panicked as the one called bumps against the door, clattering whatever she carried into the room and sending it all to the floor.

               “Forgive me, b- but we saw a shadow outside, and I… I can't seem to control my shaking.”

               “Nevermind that. We need to take care of all this first!”

               There's the sound of the two Sisters picking up the mess of broken shards while you drift off, fatigue forcing your slumber.

               “What is this strange-looking garment?” is the last thing you hear as you lose the remainder of your consciousness.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

(Testing posts on Tumblr by publishing the 1st chapter of PTYWNFIT!)

[archivalofsins]

This took a bit but I hope it succinctly explains my feelings on this matter.

Without further ado-

Let's discuss Kazui

He's such a lady killer, isn't that right~

Though he's also finding the time to kill the truth as well.

I'm not saying this is the woman at the bar. However, I am in a very impolite way asking where the fuck did the woman at the bar go? We never see her eyes in Half and this woman didn't have a face there. That is notably odd.

A woman that didn't have a face before has a face now and the woman who had one in his first video is nowhere to be seen. That's just odd.

We see Kazui doing some of his favorite pastimes during cat. Drinking and smoking.

Portal Timeline

20/06/11

Mikoto: Kazu-san, do you have any hobbies? I kinda want to get into something that’s a bit more mature. The sort of thing I could still be doing 10 years from now.

Kazui: Ahh, hobbies, huh. I wonder…… Hm, I guess trawling? I have a friend with a boat, so we went out on it a lot. Other than that, I guess when I go out drinking sometimes I play darts…… On that note, do you drink?

Mikoto: Ahh, I’ve tried darts before too. Drinking, huh. I guess I can probably hold my alcohol a bit better than the average person. Back when I was a uni student I drank a lot. But…… you look like you drink a lot too, Kazu-san.

Kazui: ……can you tell? That’s probably my biggest hobby of all of them. I like drinking anything. Beer, wine, shōchū, the lot.

21/08/05  (Kazui’s Birthday)

Kazui: Oh, Shina-chan? How scandalous, coming to a man’s room in the middle of the night like this. Well, not that it’s really a room, just a cell. ……just kidding, since you brought some drinks with you, I’m assuming you’ve come to wish me a happy birthday, right? Thank you.

Mahiru: Yep! Happy birthday Kazui-san~ Clap clap clap! But as well as that~ ……I also just maybe wanted to use it as an excuse so I could ask you for some advice over drinks, I suppose?

Kazui: Advice, huh. Well, you’re more than welcome, but I don’t really know what advice an old man like me could give you. I haven’t got the first clue about what love is like for a young girl nowadays.

Mahiru: Ahaha…… Don’t worry, much as I’d love to talk about that too, um…… er, Kazui-san. You know, recently I’ve been having the same dream every day. Lots of people were denying my actions…..Denying my thoughts…… that sort of dream.

Yet, for some reason in Cat,

"Phew, oh wow I’m drunk- Hey, so what if I said I liked-liked you, what would you do?"

He presents himself as having a low alcohol tolerance using being drunk as a convenient excuse for his confession in case it goes poorly.

We later see that when with his wife they've both downed half a bottle of champagne, a beverage that ranges between 11.6% alcohol to 12%. Whiskey what he's drinking at the bar ranges from 40% to 50% if it's apple whiskey like implied then it clocks out at 35% alcohol at the least.

Shōchū one of the alcohols he mentions by name ranges from 25% to 37% alcohol. So, tripping up over one glass of whiskey that isn't even finished is noticeably odd for him considering his previous statements.

However, considering his posture and staggering in the middle of the mv he does seem to have had a rough night.

Possibly drinking more than he usually does for one reason or another. However, I don't believe he was that drunk when he asked that question. I think he just drunk more after whoever he asked gave their answer.

It's also kind of odd that the bartender and possibly the girl from the bar both seem to be attending Kazui's wedding.

I'm not so certain about the girl at the bar because she just doesn't have a face here, but I wouldn't be certain even if she did as we never see her eyes just her face in Half. The guy in the middle on the other hand definitely looks like the person we see behind the bar in Half.

20/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday)

Haruka: ……Kazui-san…… um…… Are you, happy…… on your birthday……?

Kazui: Hm? If I’m being honest, at this age I don’t really think much about birthdays any more. But…… it can be nice to have as a means to start something. Like, for a friend you haven’t seen in a long while, it’s a good excuse to suddenly start up a conversation, you know? Being able to hear from a bunch of people like that makes it fun.

Haruka: I-is that, so…… That’s… nice…… I’m, kind of… jealous.

But, I’d also, want to hear from people…… e-even if, there isn’t a reason……

Kazui: Haha, but it can’t always be like that. You know, for us adults…… we always want a reason or an excuse for everything. ……hm? Wait, is today my birthday? So is that why you went out of your way to talk to me yourself for once, Haruka?

"There was a widow who, at her husband's funeral, fell in love with his colleague. She killed her son the very same night. Why? She'd see that man again at her son's funeral." - Caligula Effect Overdose Sun Temple Riddle and Answer.

If someone could use a funeral for that sort of thing who's to say another person couldn't use a wedding.

"I just wanted to ask, so it’s out in the open. I just got a little greedy." "I realize the futility, but I still can't help but dream."

We see a green apple roll beneath Kazui's foot before getting a glimpse of a familiar visage. Now with an apple adorning their head instead of a mask.

As the divide between truth and lies grows thinner.

"All those things I wanna do that I can’t say out loud I gotta keep it inside and act."

We see him become less and less capable of sustaining the act he's been putting on up until-

It snaps.

"Let’s take a breather; Love (plus) Destiny = Crap, smash it, shatter it, bye-bye. To be caressed by you, that would be perfection."

"I wanted to be loved, just like a cat. Maybe act capricious, on my word and at my fancy."

Man admits he wants to be for the streets and gets judged for it.

I want a relationship like a cat's- I want to be able to leave and come home whenever. Be a bit capricious- Change my mind and mood whenever at my own discretion. Try a little bit of everything eat birds on the street, chase red dots, push glasses off tables, be the predator instead of the prey!

Because-

"It's better to be a let down than be let down."

Is it so wrong to want something casual to come back home to?

To just want to-

For appearance sake.

"So, it’s wrong? Oh, shove that! INNOCENT, isn’t that right?"

To want to avoid getting greedy and complicating things with unnecessary honesty.

Imposter Boulevard Trial 2 Voice Drama

"Isn’t it unusual to openly reveal a personal dislike as a personal dislike?"

-Later-

"You said I was unfaithful – in other words, that I cheated or committed adultery of some kind."

"Yeah. That’s what I deduced from your footage."

"It’s not true. It didn’t even turn into infidelity. It didn’t turn into anything like that. For me… In my case, you see."

Cat

"Phew, oh wow I’m drunk- Hey, so what if I said I liked-liked you, what would you do? I just wanted to ask, so it’s out in the open. I just got a little greedy."

"The beating of this heart... see... it’s no longer about good and bad... it isn’t. I realize the futility, but I still can’t help but dream."

Being honest, telling the truth, speaking candidly, none of those things are about being viewed as good or bad. The only thing that's about is telling another person one's genuine beliefs and feelings.

It's right after this line the mask and gimmicks fall away, he takes off his ring and tells his wife "Let's take a breather."

An old-fashioned way of saying let's end things here whether it be for a bit or indefinitely.

Half

"All this time till now has hurt me, the scales of my heart has decided to sway. If continuing to hide is called unhappiness, not even one word will get to you."

Cat

"All those things I wanna do that I can’t say out loud I gotta keep it inside and act."

"I can’t stop, I can’t be normal. This feeling, it can’t be gratified. I can’t stop, I can’t be normal. This feeling, it’s yearning to be satisfied."

Finally saying those things left unspoken and literally dissolving their marriage.

Oh, then there's the more than casual lyrical similarities between Kazui's and Mahiru's songs.

"Since when have I ignored my feelings? It’s better to be a let down, than to be let down yourself. I just wanted to touch, to caress. I just wanted to be touched. So, it’s wrong? Oh, shove that! INNOCENT, isn’t that right? Maybe, perhaps... or... could it come true... like. It’s for the sake of true love, who wouldn’t lie for that?"

"This can’t go on, something’s got to give, I even love saying the words, “I love you” My emotions are out of control, that’s inconvenient? I don’t care! Tell me, oh tell me why, won’t you just accept me?" - "Mon-mon-monstrously in love in love. Mon-mon-monstrous, cuz I love you so much."

"Love (plus) Destiny = Crap, smash it, shatter it, bye-bye. That sticky-sweet sequence: Dinner + Camouflage + You-Know-What. Loving Affection (minus) Love, it’s tacky, this two-way deceit. Victim and Perpetrator, let’s keep it simple."

"Clothes Food Shelter + Love and Miss you. “See you next week?” sounding in cadence. The meaning of life while guilty, I can’t even breathe anymore. My lethal weapon: “This is how to be in love with you”. Clothes Food Shelter - Love and Miss you. This adorable, earnest, sincere ♥ Is bleeding, wailing, this is the end- What you trampled is my, “This is how to be in love with you”."

They're just two cheaters who people suspect were not directly involved with their victim's deaths. What's the matter with stating what one likes or dislikes in this situation? What makes one better than the other? It's simply perspective~

So, let's keep it simple and fair, alright?

[erensproudsimp]

Celestial

Armin Arlert x reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Content Warnings: sort of public sex?, Cunnilingus, vanilla sex, masturbation, a lil bit of fluff too

Summary: A date with Armin at his family owned theater, Armin makes you feel like the luckiest girl alive. *cough*y'all bang too*cough*

word count:3.4k

Also, fanart is by atosaido on insta.

Gazing at the sunset at the horizon spreading its rich hues of red blended with orange, purple and cimsons into the grateful sky when you heard your phone chime. The name on the notification itself was enough to pull the corners of your mouth into a smile. Gently you placed the book that you were reading on the table to grab your phone and unlocked it to see the message. It was from your boyfriend, Armin. Your heart swelled reading the contents. Armin requested you to get ready for a date that he was coming to fetch you in like an hour, however he didn't mention where he'd be taking you. Not giving yourself a chance to try to assume the location, you looked at the time. It was currently six in the afternoon, plenty of time to dress up until seven.

Clothes thrown all over your room, scavenging the closet you were having trouble settling on an aesthetic for your outfit. Since Armin was the type of person to take you to places that could be either cosy or extravagant or both, you made up your mind to a dark academia getup. A brown checkered mini skirt complimented with a beige sweater seemed to be quite perfect for the date. Your hair straightener was heating up while you were doing a light make up. Ten minutes later you were ready. It was almost seven as you went outside to wait for Armin's car to pull up to your apartment.

A fresh chilly wind brushed against your face pickling your nostrils but it brought you out of your daydreams to your senses as you felt alive and connected to reality. You rubbed your nose for warmth with your sleeve when right at that moment a white BMW. You swore your heart leaped in your chest upon seeing him. Like a happy puppy running to its owner, that's how Armin saw you when you were running in your boots to him. Throwing your arms around his neck, you jumped for a hug. Armin being quite well-built was able to handle your weight as he lifted you up to spin you around.

"Ahaha y/n I'm so glad to see you," Armin's voice muffled against your hair.

"Me too Armin, me too," you replied pulling back to make eye contact with him.

You had no idea how Armin liked you saying his name, especially when you were screaming it.

"Let's get in the car shall we? It's getting a little chilly," Armin said opening your door to let you in. You gave him a light smile for his chivalry. Closing it after you sat, he went to take his place in the driver's seat.

"So, are you going to tell me where you're taking me?" you asked him.

"Hmmm, nope," Armin answered bopping your nose with his index finger, "I'm keeping as a surprise till we reach it, besides I think you'd probably guess it with the route we're taking."

"Well then, let's see if I guess it right. Let's go!" you excitedly shouted.

Analysing the passing buildings and blocks, a light bulb went off in your head.

"Wait, are we going to your family owned theater?" crossing your fingers you questioned.

"Heh, you've got a good memory," Armin smiled over to you one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your thigh rubbing small circles.

Shrieking in happiness, you couldn't help it as that theater was nothing but a comfort place for you. Pressing the button to pull down the transparent glass, you let the cold wind hit your face making your hair fly, a smile stretching your mouth aware that this was going to be a good night well spent. Across the seat, Armin admired you for a while before pulling into the parking. How he wished he could keep looking at you forever. You were like drugs to him, no matter how much he consumed of your presence or just you in general, he's never satisfied.

Before you could get out, Armin came to your door to open it, extending his hand. Taking it, he pulled you closer to him, faces millimeters away. Smiling against his mouth but you didn't kiss him. Instead, you placed your finger between your lips, "Quite a gentleman, aren't you?"

"Only for you my love," Armin replied dragging you to the theater's entrance.

Hand in hand, you both ran to the magnificent creation that was the building. Nobody was in sight signaling you that you two were the only beings present in that place. The only sounds that could be heard were you and Armin's giggling and the rustling of the trees with the wind. The moon was shining so bright in the sky lit up by thousands of stars. It's brightness was the same as the one Armin brought in your life. He was your sole source of joy alongside the reason why you adored being alive so much.

"You really like the night sky, don't you?" Armin asked as he looked at you staring at the moon.

"A lot. The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I could die happy."

Your heart felt lighter than air at his answer.

"Before we go inside, mind if I blindfold you? I don't want to ruin the surprise," Armin requested holding up a black cloth.

"Sure thing," you replied as he tied it lightly so as not to hurt you.

Rather than taking your hands to guide you inside, Armin choose an easier method which was to carry you in his arms. At first you were bewildered but then when it hit you, it didn't really faze you as he was always doing sweet unexpected actions like this. He treated you as though you were the most precious thing to him, which you in all honesty were.

While he was walking to take you to the destined spot, he couldn't stop himself to gaze at you. You gave so much meaning to his life and to every little thing to him. From the feeling of the first sunlight hitting his skin, he was reminded of your warm smile to the moonlight illuminating the dark sky, he thinks of the way you bring him positivity even in the toughest of situations. He couldn't be in anymore bliss as this was the definition of heaven to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck for support, he was carrying his literal embodiment of happiness.

Gently putting you down, he asked, "Are you ready?"

"I'm more than ready!" mirthfully you exclaimed.

"Okay then", Armin said removing your blindfold, "Ta-dah."

At that moment, you couldn't decide whether you were more likely to smile because of what you were seeing or more likely to cry because of what you were seeing. Your mind chose the later as tears started to run down your cheeks.

"He-Hey, don't cry, why are you crying?" Armin confoundedly wiped your tears with his thumbs as he cupped your face.

"Did you do all of this... for me?" sniffing you looked at him.

"For who else did I do this stupid? Of course it's for you y/n", he beamed.

Apart from the usual dark room with a dark vibe like a traditional theater has, for this date, Armin had set up projections on the ceiling. And it wasn't any type of projection, it was the space scattered all across the white roof.

In awe, your eyes widen at the celestial beauty in front of you. Stars twinkling like little fairy lights, even a nebula in vivid details. It doesn't stop at that as there were loads of other spatial phenomenons occurring. Not only did Armin set up a picnic on the stage but beside it was also a mattress big enough to accommodate both of you to 'stargaze'. The fabric set with Ratatouille in a bowl, a bottle of red wine glimmering under the light and various pastries sat in soliditary splendor in the middle of the wide open space which was the stage.

"I feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you Armin", you said sitting on the cloth spread on the wooden floor.

"No, I feel like the luckiest man to have the most perfect woman," he corrected you as he was pouring some wine into your glass.

Red tinted your cheeks.

"Cheers ?"

"Cheers," you raised your glass to clink with his.

This night couldn't be any more flawless.

A nice dinner in your favorite place with your favorite person, what else could you ask more?

As soft as clouds, the mattress sunk in with both of your weights. The wine coursing through your veins served as intoxication transporting you into this realm of abstractional interstellar.

Still mesmerised by the exquisite visual that resembled as though some heavenly artist had crushed crystals into his paint and then colored the cosmos with the finest of brushes, it didn't even compare to the beautiful man on whom you were laying on. Your hand on his chest, head on his shoulder, Armin held you so close to him as though you were going to disappear if he looked away. The blues and purples of the projection caressed his face.

Moving strands of your hair away with his finger, Armin asked, "What's the matter y/n?"

"Nothing, I was just wondering how pretty you are."

"I-I thank you," Armin blushed.

Gosh he was so cute.

Lifting yourself up, a frown on Armin's face at your action but then replaced by a astonishing look when he realised that you were straddling him. You had no clue of what you were doing, maybe it's was the wine or maybe it was just your desire for him, nonetheless, you craved his touch.

Your soft skin reflecting the light of the led made his fingers curl with the urge to stroke it. To his surprise, you grabbed his hands and placed it on your thighs revealed with your skirt lifted up. A light squeeze was given to them as Armin began stroking with his thumb waiting for your next move. The light illuminating from your behind aligned your figure making you appear as an angel in Armin's sight. Running your index finger from his cheekbones to his lips, you neared your bodies to press your boobs on his chest as you kissed him. His left hand dragged up your flesh to grab your ass while the right one entangled itself in your hair pulling your faces closer. Lips overlapping each other as you fought for dominance with him. Though Armin seems like a very sweet guy but looks may deceive, well, not completely. In bed he's like a cocktail, a combination of gentleness like flavored syrup or juice and of roughness like the alcohol in the drink.

Pushing your hips to his pelvis area, a groan leaving his lips cued you to further tease him. Up and down you grinded on him. Breaking the kiss to pull back, Armin went lower to your neck to pepper small kisses all over your sensitive skin, all the way to your jaw, your cheeks, the corner of your mouth to back on your neck to suck on your sweet spot. A light pain accompanied with pleasure made a tiny 'ah' leave your lips as he was marking your body. This only turned Armin more than he already was the moment he saw you.

Bringing his face back up , you collided your lips to his, more passionate than before. Sloppily you unbuttoned his shirt.

Abruptly he grabbed your back to switch positions with you. His chest now exposed was in front of your eyes. Removing the fabric off his body, his muscles shined in the light. This man was built like an art piece, his chest sculptured like the Greek soldiers.

"Allow me to be the one to please you," Armin's breath tickled your ear.

Feather like touches brushed your throat down to between your breasts to your stomach through your clothes. He took all the time in the world to appreciate the fact that you were with him and for him. You've probably never experienced such tenderness before meeting Armin. While making out with you, he his hands underneath your sweater to cup your boobs unaware of the dampness pooling between your legs.

With a swift motion, Armin took off your sweater and threw it across the stage. Black laced bra covering your breasts made you look more lustful. Armin's breath hitched in his throat.

"I don't think I'd ever get enough on beautiful you are y/n, everytime I undress you, it always feel as though it's the first time", he breathed.

You tugged at his belt, unbuckling it.

"Then show me how much you want me," you swiped your thumb over his lips.

Armin smirked. If looks could kill, you'd probably be dead by that.

"As you wish my lady."

Armin's big hands stroke your curves, brushing his lips from your collarbones slowly down your bellybutton but he didn't kiss your skin until he pulled down your skirt for your damp fabric to come in view to him. His soft lips didn't hesitate to press against your core.

"Ah- Armin-"

"You look so hot making that face, baby," Armin replied mouth still on you, you felt the vibrations of his voice through your underwear giving you goosebumps.

Armin dragged his tongue from the buttom to your clitoris, sucking on it making your underwear even wetter.

"Does this feel good?"

"Hmmm yes~," you reached out to grab his hair.

He chuckled at your reaction and proceeded to remove your last piece of garment. Your entrance dripping with anticipation, Armin gulped hard.

Like a wild animal out of cage, Armin attacked your pussy with his mouth. You leaped at his rough action and gripped on his hair for dear life as it seemed like this man wasn't going to leave you until he's had every part of you. Out of nowhere, Armin stuck his tongue into you making you arch your back. Thrusting it in and out of you, he gripped your hips in place so that you wouldn't squirm away.

"Gosh you have no idea how good you taste y/n," Armin panted sending chills down your spine.

Your tiny little pants and moans only fueled him to gain speed as he flicked your pearl in his mouth with the tip of his tongue.

"Oh-ah-Armin- Don't stop I'm close ~"

Taking your words into command, Armin didn't cease until you gasped and released everything in his mouth.

He swallowed every single drop of you as though it was his last time drinking any sort of liquid. While he was licking his lips to consumed everything he removed his pants as you were catching your breath. His dick sprung free from his cage, tip leaking with precum.

"May I?"lining his dick in front of your cunt he asked for consent.

"Just fuck me already Armin."

Slowly, Armin stoked it on your wet folds to lubricate it for it to enter more smoothly. Wet sounds of both of your excrements mixing filled the theater.

"Fuck you're so tight,"Armin groaned in his first thrust into you,"Are you okay baby? Do you want time to adjust? "

Still panting over his big size you nodded your head, your arm covering your eyes.

"It's okay love, take your time," Armin gently moved your hand away from your face to stroke your cheeks.

"Okay, you can move now," a minute later you told him.

Intertwining your fingers, Armin held your hand while the other held for support on the bed, Armin began to move.

With the projector in the background, this moment seemed so magical.

"You feel so good y/n arg-"

You hummed still doused in this dreamy state. The world around you blurred as the only thing visible in your peripheral vision was paradise. You could feel him moving so slowly between your walls, each of his popping veins so clearly. With time passing, your need for him grew bigger.

"Please go faster Armin."

"Anything for you," he replied as he picked up speed, this time more rougher on you.

Skin slapping, you arched your back, this time Armin slipping his hand on your back to make your bodies touch each other. Chests rising and falling rapidly, you brushed Armin's hair from his face to see his expressions better.Face twisted with pleasure, this man was so attractive.

It wasn't long until you felt the knot building up in your stomach.

"Y/n I'm-I'm close"

"Me too Armin, please cum with me"

Eyes boring into yours, Armin didn't hesitate to go even more rough with you.

Bending down Armin kissed you as he released his hot fluids into you.

"Are you okay? I hope I didn't hurt you my lady," Armin moved your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

"No Armin, I know you could never hurt me, that's why I love you."

"I love you too y/n," Armin kissed your nose.

Helping you to get up, he took some tissues from the straw bag in which he carried all the food in. While you were tying your hair into a ponytail, Armin wiped his cum from your body.

"I'm sorry I made such a mess on your beautiful skin y/n."

"Armin, why are you even appologising for this, please don't ," you giggled then grabbed his hands and kissed them.

Inhaling a deep breath, Armin got up to fetch your clothes and helped you wear them.

"Let me drop you home okay?" he carried you in bridal style to the car due to your legs shaking and being unstable. Throughout the whole voyage back, you just wished this night could last forever but alas reality is a bitch. His hands warming your thighs till his car reached your house and he took you to your bathroom to help you get into the bathtub.

Not wanting to hold him any longer, you reassured him that you were now okay and that he could take care of the theater to clean it for business the next day. The thought of people coming to a place where you and Armin banged without them being aware of it brought all the blood to rise up in your cheeks.

Parking the car, Armin entered the building with the scent of sex still lingering in the air. Taking care of all the stuff on the stage and cleaning it, he went to remove the projectors. Out of the blue it clicked in his head. Security cameras. Heaving a sigh of relief that he recalled this crucial detail, he rushed into the surveillance room to discard of the recordings for the night. However, before he did that, he did in fact consider to watch it. Debating in his head like attorneys in a courtroom he finally yielded to looking at them. He didn't even play the video that he was already blushing redder than his blood. Pressing the play button, he sat down on the wheelchair.

Holy shit did he not regret watching it. Even in bad lighting, you looked so hot on camera. It felt illegal for Armin to be doing whatever he was doing then.

"Ah-ah Armin-" you moaned his name and that awakened something in him or more like that hardened something in him.

"Fuck," he whispered under his breath.

From his pants, he could see the lining of his growing erection but he tried to ignore it. Eventually it began to feel a little painful from the restriction of release. Giving in into his urges, he unzipped his pants to let his dick breath from its suffocation.

He hissed as he spread the oozing precum across the tip looking himself eating you out. With his face buried between your legs, at that moment he couldn't clearly see your facial expressions compared to now.

The way your breath got stuck in your throat, your mouth made an 'o' when you tried to control your moans. The next time he was going to make love to you, he's keeping in mind to prevent you from holding back the sounds you make as he wants to hear each and every one of them.

Stroking his shaft up and down just like he's thrusting in and out of you, his motions rhythmic, he threw his head back on the chair hearing your sweet voice resonating the room.

Sinful.

To his shock, he came at the exact timing he came within you in the recording. Letting his actions absorb, still drown into the cloudiness of his mind, Armin couldn't wait for the day he could at last marry you.

Without further ado, he deleted the clips after he sent them to his phone as a token.

End.

Thank you for reading this. :)

[lunaastoir]

I recently discovered your blog, and I have an idea for a request! So, say that both Mondstadt and Liyue both hold a festival together or an event. Both Xinyan and Barbara are going to perform and the reader is going to help them. By like providing vocals or just helping them perform in general. A couple of days before the big day happens there's a note from the treasure hoarders (you can change it to something else like the Abyss Mages or something if that's easier for you) claiming they're going to take Barbara. Everyone just shoves it off to the side and then behind the scenes crew doesn't tell anyone so they don't cause panic for people. Especially since it's going to be a large crowd since both people from Liyue and Mondstadt. During the performance, while on stage the reader sees an arrow heading towards Barbara, and to prevent it from hitting her they casually push Barbara but it looks like a hug so people don't notice it. The reader is soon leaves the performance so they can catch the person who tried shooting Barbara. Their S/O (your character of choice) chases after them since they don't know where they're going and since they left the performance very early. Could you perhaps write their reactions to what the reader did? Like leaving the performance early and trying to catch up with them as they see them running somewhere? Feel free to change any of the details if you need to! This might not make that much sense so sorry about that. You could also choose any character since I'm not picky. Thanks in advance, and can I become 🌊 Anon? ^^

so sorry this is so late 🌊 anon!! things have been super busy - hope you still like it tho <3 

THIS SCENARIO IS SO SPECIFIC I LOVE IT

reqs: open!

gn! reader

characters included: diluc, kaeya, xiao, and ningguang

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you loaded up the last batch of qingxin flowers in your basket. god, you hoped this was enough for barbara to finish her performance with. the idea to conduct a festival with xinyan and barbara as the main performers was one coined by jean. she believed that it might help boost peoples spirits - especially after the havoc dvalin left behind. the suggestion to include liyue in the celebrations however, was all venti’s doing. after hearing the state liyue was in with the supposed death of their archon, the bard decided that liyue could partake in the fun as well, a win for both nations. the first combined liyustadt festival and hopefully, not the last. to others, perhaps the stiffness in your posture, the sheen of sweat on your hands, or the crease between your brow could be attributed to the stress of planning such an event. after all, this had never been done before. however, your stress was on something else entirely. the note the treasure hoarders had threatened barbara with weighed heavily on your mind. the threat detailed that they would attack if the show went on, yet nothing had happened and while precautions were made, you still couldn’t shake the pit in your stomach. you were taken out of your reverie as xinyan beckoned you on stage with the opening of the curtains in the back. putting on a sweet smile you waved to the crowd as they roared, the hero of mondtadt and liyue was in front of them after all. handing the delicate basket to barbara, you turned to make your way off the stage, before you felt chills up your spine. 

there.

the whizzing sound of bark slipped crisply through the air as you quickly made to gently push barbara away from the arrow’s path. the quizzical look on the young idol’s face was immediately conformed into fear as she heard the dull thud of the arrow hitting the back wall. flashing the crowd a smile, you gave her a reassuring look before rushing off the stage in your best, nothing-is-wrong walk. gathering your travel sack and weaponry, you quickly darted off into the woods, determined to catch the culprit. unbeknownst to you however, a pair of eyes had already followed your movements and was making their way towards you. 

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diluc

“love, where are you going?”

long legs quickened their pace as diluc found his words met with silence. your figure was rapidly disappearing among the trees as he raced after you with questions blowing through his mind. you had your weapons and travel sack, all things you didn’t have on you during the performance, he noted. he was aware something must have been detrimentally wrong if you were to take off in the middle of a performance where you were an honored guest. you would have informed someone beforehand if something was terribly urgent so why were you running like your life depended on it? 

it was only a matter of time before diluc caught up to you, however he didn’t stop you. he kept up with your strides as he inquired as to what was wrong. 

with your response, it would only strengthen his resolve to help you, not that he was ever planning on doing anything other than that. he slipped the weight of your travel sack on his shoulders before moving ahead. 

“treasure hoarders you say? follow me darling, there’s only one place with enough tree coverage to launch an arrow straight into the performance”

kaeya

“woah, in a hurry now aren't we?” 

a lazy smirk dripped over his lips as mischief burned in his eyes. now where were you going so fast?

kaeya didn’t have to run, he knew how to track. it also helped that he knew these woods like the back of his hand from the amount of dealings he’s made here. at first, he had assumed you were just running an errand, considering he had only briefly caught sight of your figure rushing through the trees. as he gets closer however, the mischief burns away into confusion, and then seriousness. why...were you wearing your gloves? wasn’t this just a trip to get more flowers? he’ll start to speed up after realizing the weight of the situation. as his feet catch up to yours he’ll place an arm on your bicep, slowing you down slightly. 

“something’s wrong, i assume? give me the ten second version”

as soon as he hears your recap, he’ll shoot off in a side path. you stared at him with widened eyes as he took you further into the thick of leaves. his fingers tangled in yours before he offered a quiet, “do you trust me?”

you did. 

xiao

“i’ve told you, if you ever require my service, speak my name”

xiao had immediately rushed to where you were in a blink of an eye. he had known something was wrong from the moment he could sense a change in your energy, the connection between you was too strong after all. without sparing another second, he flew to where you were, mindful as to not startle you. tangling his pinky with yours, he stopped you completely. 

“i know who did it. there is no need for you to go.”

the confusion on your face must have betrayed you as he quickly explained that he had seen the arrow make it’s way towards barbara before you pushed her out of the way. he had already tracked where the culprit was and planned to take them out himself. so as a result, there was no need for you to put yourself in harm’s way. 

the way your eyes softened when you lightly put your hands on his cheeks confused him. why weren’t you going back?

“xiao we talked about this. i can take care of myself, you don’t need to protect me”

your affectionate voice made his hands come up to his cheeks to clasp your own. 

“i know, but humans are just so fragile...”

his voice trailed off and you brought your hands down to link your pinkies with his again. 

“i’ll always be here, don’t worry”

he knew that one day you wouldn’t be, it was the tragedy of mortal life after all. but as he let you take him through the forest, weapons in hand, he thought maybe it wasn’t so bad to let you take the lead for once. 

ningguang

“you can stop, i’ve already sent the millelith to deal with them”

your pace slowed to a halt as her words hit your ears. keqing had already let her know of the threat when the millelith had reported suspicious individuals. the tianquan had made a mental note before telling a handful of her guards to stay alert in case she needed to send them in. when she saw the arrow hit the backboard, a silent flick of her wrist sent the guards dispersing through the crowd, ready to apprehend the foes. 

you sighed, sometimes you wished she would tell you these things beforehand. 

your urge to talk back died as soon as you met her eyes. the affection in them as she raised her hand out to you was a rare sight for others, but a common one behind closed doors for you. a small smile appeared on your lips as she pulled you close to her, slipping a qingxin flower in your hair. 

“why don’t we watch the rest of the performance hmm?”

[vizowrites]

OOOH I GOT A GOOD BLITZSTRIKE IDEA FROM EPISODE 6!! So you know that blitz had a I'm assuming was a illusion with poorly drawn moxxie and striker, etc yea that but striker just came to save the day! Da da daaaaaa (I am morning drunk-)

I made a post about just how badly I needed this exact thing in my life so THANK YOU SO MUCH for sending it to meeeeeeeeeee!! <3 <3

Now normally I'm all for the AU idea of Striker joining I.M.P. and just kind of automatically jumping in as an official member of their unofficial family, but I have to say for this.....I actually kind of like it better if I stick more to the canon here. Striker's not a member of I.M.P., he's still got his angel weaponry and the bounty on Stolas's head to settle after the mishap at the Harvest Moon Festival, and--most importantly--hasn't crossed paths with Blitz [or any of the others for that matter] since.

He hadn't been expecting it to happen when it did that night, either.

There wasn't much on Striker's mind other than his target as he slithered his way through the servant's quarters entrance of Stolas's manor house, entirely uncaring of the numerous cameras and other security features that he passed along the way. He had it on good faith that they would just happen to be disabled that night--a pissed off royal birdie had told him so. He'd also been told exactly how to navigate his way through the house undetected, exactly which rooms to avoid, and exactly where he would find the "cheating prick" at this hour. What he hadn't been told--and what he'd deliberately chosen not to ask--was just what the Goetian Prince would be doing by the time he made his soundless entry into his study. There was a small part of him, somewhere deeper than he usually cared to try to reach, that couldn't help but think of a certain impressive imp Boss that might be involved. There was an even deeper part of him, though, that felt the sharp sting of conflict as he found he couldn't make up his mind on whether he was hoping to see said impressive imp Boss there or not, considering what he would probably be doing.

His tail unconsciously flicked once, causing Striker to coil it tightly around himself in order to prevent what would have become a full blown rattle otherwise. This was ridiculous. He was here for one thing and one thing only: he had a job to do.

A job he was fully intending to enjoy.

A slow grin spread across his face as he shrugged the strap of his angelic rifle down from his shoulder, catching the weapon effortlessly and feeling the warm sting of its power against his fingertips. He really was going to enjoy this, he thought to himself as he silently crept into the study, taking advantage of the many outrageously sized pieces of furniture casting shadows around the room to stay hidden.

Just one shot. He just needed one shot.

The flickering glow of what he presumed to be firelight seemed to beckon him, encouraging him, and before he knew it he had the butt of the rifle pressed firmly into his shoulder and his right hand hovering just beside the trigger--ready and waiting to take aim and fire. All he needed was one glance now, just enough to see where exactly Stolas was in the room, and then it would be over. The fact that he couldn't hear the owl demon moaning in ecstasy strangely pleased him at his core, confirming that he in fact wasn't enjoying the company of his favorite plaything tonight. Good. It meant he didn't need to spare a second thought for who else might get caught in the crossfire. Anyone else honestly wouldn't matter.

.....He tried to distract himself from thinking about that thought too deeply by finally taking his glance, trying to focus back on the one who didn't matter to him at all.

Instead, he found himself looking straight at the one being that did.

"Blitz--" The half-whisper caught in the back of his throat, thankfully stiffling the majority of the sound as Striker's eyes went wide. He didn't know how the hell Stolas was doing this--he didn't know this was something the Ars Goetia could do--but somehow, in the middle of what he'd previously thought was just a fireplace casting the twisting forms of light and darkness across the room, was a strange mirror-like orb that seemed to be reflecting an image to the Prince sitting across from it in one of his high-backed chairs.

An image of Blitz, tied to a much smaller chair, struggling as some strange green something started to pool beneath his feet.

What the flying fuck was happening?

"Oh darling, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Stolas cooed from across the room, completely oblivious to the hitman staring at him as he watched the scene unfold before him as if it was his favorite daytime drama. "Let's be extra careful about what we say from here on out, shall we? You're not going to be very happy with me if I have to come down there and take my book back from your charming daughter. Especially since that's going to delay her rescuing of you by quite a bit."

Striker didn't know what to do. There was a part of him that felt the unmistakable urge to just raise his weapon and fire, to carry on with the plan just as he'd intended and figure out the rest from there. But there was that other, deeper, part of him that had frozen, leaving him unable to look at or think about anything other than the imp that was now spilling his guts out in whatever room he was in as easily as if he'd just been sliced open.

And the vermin was there with him--apparently tripping balls as he slumped into his own chair and started mumbling incoherently.

Perfect.

"Now just what is happening here?" Stolas murmured, his voice catching Striker's attention--that urge flaring up in him again, and yet, before he could think about whether or not to actually take aim at him, he instead watched as Stolas lifted his hand from beneath his chin and gave a little wave over the orb. The image within shifted, rippling as if it were made of water, and when it finally settled again it was of something new:

Moxxie, now freed from his bonds, making his way up a marble staircase lined with candelabras towards a cape-wearing Blitz playing piano.....and they were both singing.

What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening??

"Ooohh my," Stolas chuckled delicately from behind his curved fingers, amusement sparking in his glowing crimson eyes as he watched the scene unfold. "Your little underling here has quite the imagination now, doesn't he? Well if his truth is this entertaining--" He lifted his hand once more, his fingertips hovering over the unnaturally glowing scene. "--I really must see yours now, Blitzy."

Don't--

Striker didn't know why he felt such a sudden surge of protectiveness for Blitz's privacy of all things in that moment, but seeing the image ripple again as it began to change had him biting his lip hard enough that he could feel it start to bleed. Just what the fuck was this asshole doing? Did he just get himself off to spying on Blitz like this?? At times when he's clearly in trouble and needing help that isn't prying into his drug-induced hallucinations??

If he'd been a better person, he would have killed Stolas then and there just to make this stop. But since he wasn't, his curiosity stilled his hands for another few moments as the window into Blitz's vison settled into view.

He didn't like any part of what he saw.

The memory of himself referring to Blitz as a "rodeo clown of a boss" came back to him with the viciousness of a bite, causing him to tense as he watched as Blitz--stumbling around in a clown costume--started getting tormented by voices and swirling figureless masses of color. The first to solidify was Moxxie, spewing bullshit that honestly Striker could barely care to keep up with, except for the fact that it was so obviously berrating Blitz for.....something. Just what the hell did Blitz care what that little baby dick had to say? He knew he was better than that.

.....Didn't he?

Striker felt his grip on the rifle loosening as he sank back fully onto the floor, his pale eyes glinting and his tail starting to vibrate hard against his shirt. He tried to muster up every ounce of his self control, willing it to stop before the rattling sound tipped off Stolas--only for his tail to go utterly still as something very similar lashed its way around Blitz's throat and threw him to the ground.

And there he was, staring at himself.

"But you don't want to do things alone Blitzo!"

Hearing himself--not himself, that wasn't even his fucking voice--say that made his blood run cold with rage. How fucking dare whoever was doing this impersonate him like this! Using him to torment Blitz like this! And Blitz was seemingly actually buying it--wait, Stolas had called this Blitz’s “truth”.  Did this mean.....was this what Blitz thought of him?? What the fuck!? Since when the hell did Blitz ever hear Striker call him "Blitzo" once before in his life?? Never! He wanted to grab Blitz by the shoulders and shake him, screaming right into his face that he would never say his name like that when he knows damn well that the O is silent! Okay, so he might’ve called him “Blitzy” when they parted ways because he was bitter over Blitz choosing to stop him from killing Stolas instead of running off with him to take down Overlords--and that was his bad.  And yeah, he might've been trying to get on his good side to have an easier shot at killing Stolas, sure, but...that didn't mean that the things he'd said to Blitz weren't true! He really did want to be partners!

The scene changed again, another set of stairs, and Blitz frantically climbing up them to try and escape the figures that were literally haunting him--Striker feeling that cold burn spread in his chest at the sight of being one of them.

Though nothing could have prepared him for the tidal wave of feeling that would crash over him in the moment he saw just who was waiting for Blitz at the top of those stairs.

Stolas.

You Daddy Fucker.

"Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?"

Striker's fingers clenched so hard around his rifle that he thought he was going to snap it in two, his pale gold-green eyes fixed on the sight of Blitz crawling on his hands and knees up that glowing staircase, as golden chains fastened around each of his wrists and around his neck. The rest of the voices were lost to the roar of whitenoise now ringing in Striker's ears as he watched Stolas pull Blitz willingly onto his lap, holding him by that chain attached to the collar at his throat.....

"Oh Blitzy--!"

And when he heard that erotic gasp and saw that look on Blitz's face, he finally couldn't take it.

The next thing he knew, he was back in the hallway, making a beeline for the room that he'd been instructed to go to only after he'd finished the job. Oh he was going to finish it all right. He was going to finish it slowly and painfully. But there was something even more important that he had to finish first.

He honestly didn't remember what he'd said when he stormed into Stella's room. He didn't know how long he had been there and he had no idea how he got away with being there for any amount of time without her calling for security to run in and tackle him to the ground. Most of all, he had absolutely no idea what the hell kind of reason he could have possibly given for her to locate the party of imps on Earth and open him a portal to get to them--but whatever reason he gave must've been a pretty damn good one. The next thing he knew there was a glowing blue door literally opening in front of his face, revealing a blood soaked room and the now united beings of Hell trapped between a steel door and two human fuckers who were pointing pistols at their faces.

At Blitz's face.

The shots rang out one after the other, followed by the distinct meaty thuds of two bodies hitting the floor. Striker didn't particlarly notice the fact that the portal had closed behind him the minute he stepped into the room, rendering him just as trapped as the others, but he also didn't particularly care. That bird bitch was still going to get exactly what she wanted when he got back--he would make sure of it. But for now, at least, it was enough just to be able to stride over to that face--full of disbelief and shock--and cup it tenderly in his palm.

"You ain't gotta do jack shit alone, Blitz," he said, and the sincerity of his own voice shook him from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. "You're not alone, Blitz."

He didn't know it until much much later, but hearing Striker say those words to him had made Blitz feel as though he'd just been handed the keys to his chains.

[thefanficmonster]

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚🌻

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear  📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go. 

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

[dinosaurtsukki]

all for a crown (fyodor x gn!reader royalty au)

summary: fyodor dostoevsky wasn't at all like the other members of the royal family. he was polite, gentle, and always remembered your name. unfortunately, you're the one who eventually finds out about his inner motives

word count: 1.7k words

contains: royalty au, assassination, mentions of death and suicide, psychological manipulation, fyodor being himself as usual

anon: *puts 100 dollar bill on table* How about Royalty!AU with Fyodor but he’s evil/planning to take over another kingdom, imagine helping him dress into royal attire as he gets ready for his coronation, ok bye I’m having too much brain rot.

a/n: i... have no words for this fic it's literally just so self-indulgent but omg i love fyodor royalty!au so much you killed me with this request anon also i hope you enjoy the last scene

even after being in his company for only a day, you could tell fyodor dostoevsky was much different from all the other members of the royal family that you had served before. you were in your fifth year of serving at the castle and had met many of them, from duchesses and dukes to even the crown prince himself. needless to say, the best interactions that you had with any of them were when they barely paid any mind to you at all.

but you didn't expect much from them either. they were royalty after all and a poor servant from a far-flung village with nothing else to achieve in life was more than beneath them. living in the servants' quarters of a castle was better than nothing though, so you kept your head down and your work efficient just to get by.

and then came the day when you were assigned to be the personal servant of the young fyodor dostoevsky.

he was the tsar's nephew and a close friend of his son, the young prince. from what your fellow servants told you, fyodor had always been a sickly child and rarely left the castle grounds. the first time you saw him, you couldn't help but notice how pale his skin was and that you could probably wrap a thumb and forefinger completely around his wrist.

but what struck you the most about fyodor were his eyes: dark violet, the color of the robes that the past kings wore in their portraits. and second, was how warm his voice sounded when they greeted you.

"good morning. you must be y/n."

...

hearing fyodor call you by name made you realize that you've haven't heard it from another person's mouth in a long time. you were almost always called with several snaps of a finger or a sharp gaze. but fyodor used your name and never raised his voice. he was polite and the way he addressed you made you dangerously forget your own place. "y/n, if you please, could you fetch my book? y/n, would you be so kind to shut the window for me? y/n, have you had anything to eat? you look famished."

and even though you were expected to wait on him hand and foot for a whole day, it was always easy to run out of things to do. fyodor spent most of his time by himself: visiting the library in the morning after breakfast, practicing the cello by himself in the afternoon, and reading a book in bed at night.

you could tell that he was in need of someone to converse with since his cousin was the only who'd visit him. when it was just you two, fyodor could talk for hours on end though you could never fully understand what he was talking about. but that didn't seem to matter since he appeared to be content that someone was listening.

he was pleasant to be around and waiting on him was the best job you've ever taken in the castle. you enjoyed waking him up in the morning and preparing his meals and even staying at his bedside when he got sick. fyodor was different from all the other nobles you've served.

you were soon going to realize just how different.

...

"y/n... you aren't supposed to be here," fyodor hummed. he sounded as if he was lightly chastising you for breaking a dish but that didn't quite register in your head.

just half an hour ago, fyodor was eating dinner with his cousin in their room. he had let you off early for the night and you were about to return to your quarters when you remembered that fyodor forgot to take his medicine. clearly, you weren't supposed to witness this scene: fyodor's cousin, the crown prince himself, slumped over the table with his wineglass still in hand, spilling red all over the white tablecloth. fyodor himself was calmly swirling the wine in his glass and studying you with those dark purple eyes that now sent shivers down your spine.

"h-his majesty, i--"

"there's nothing you can do about it now, y/n," fyodor cut you off. he didn't look at all like the kind, young man with the gentle smile anymore and you consciously backed away towards the door. of course, he could tell what you were about to do.

"i wouldn't do that if i were you, y/n," he said lowly, placing his glass on the table. "between your word and mine, whose do you think people would believe, hmm?"

a weight sank in your stomach and you felt tears forming. "p-please sir. i-i'll keep quiet, i promise. i promise," you begged.

fyodor left the table and slowly made his way towards you while you were huddled on the floor with the door pressed against your back. he could have his way with your right then and there and you squeezed your eyes shut and hoped this was all just a bad dream.

then, you felt his hand on the top of your head, gently stroking your hair. "oh y/n," fyodor sighed. "shame, i took a liking to you. i would have been content with you personally serving me if you hadn't made this little mistake."

"i'm sorry... i'm sorry," you sobbed.

"hmmm, but i do believe in second chances."

at that, you looked up slowly at fyodor whose hands were still in your hair. maybe this was what selling your soul to the devil was like. "what should i do?" you whispered.

"to begin," fyodor crouched down until he was eye level with you. "you could help me get rid of the body."

...

it was almost funny how easily fyodor framed the murder as the crown prince taking his own life. but how could you laugh when you were now under his thumb? he was right, after all. who would take your word over his?

fyodor's scheme came to a conclusion when a group of noblemen came to his room with the news that he was next in line to the throne. the tsar was sick, you assumed fyodor played a part in that, and the deceased crown prince had no younger brothers. of course, fyodor played his part effortlessly. everything from his sorrowful gaze to his deep sigh leading into "with a heavy heart, i shall take on the crown for the sake of our kingdom."

you were certain his eyes flickered to yours across the room as soon as he spoke those words.

and now, here you were, dressing fyodor for his coronation as per his request. you no longer felt safe around him, knowing he would benefit from disposing you and no one would suspect otherwise. so, why? why were you still alive?

"your hands are trembling, y/n," fyodor observed.

"i-- f-forgive me," you stammered as fyodor sighed and finished buttoning his vest himself.

"if you keep looking that nervous it won't take long for people to suspect you."

"i'll try my best," you nodded. fyodor seemed content with your answer as he gestured for his coat which you hurriedly fetched.

"just button the two in the middle, leave the rest," he ordered. you followed his instructions until finally, you were done dressing fyodor for his coronation.

the way he looked now was a far cry from the sickly, bedridden man you met months ago. his attire was made on short notice, but the seamstresses and tailors did beautiful work nonetheless. his vest was white with gold buttons and stitching. the color of his coat wasn't the usual dark red that the previous tsars had worn. 'it's out of respect for my dear cousin,' fyodor explained.

but the dark, deep purple coat with the gold stitching that matched his vest suited fyodor well. he stood tall and imposing in his black boots made of polished leather. additionally, his raven hair which often hung loose to his shoulders was tied back into a loose ponytail.

fyodor looked like he had always been born to be the crown prince. and, with the way his dark, glittering eyes admired his reflection, you could tell he knew that too.

"you did a splendid job, as always, y/n," fyodor chuckled, turning this way and that in front of the mirror.

"thank you... your grace," you bowed.

"now, now. it's just the two of us here. you can call me by my name."

"v-very well... fyodor," you answered.

"well, i mustn't let the people wait too long," fyodor sighed, eyeing the growing crowd out of the window. "i've already requested a place for you to sit in the cathedral. it's quite far but you'll have a good view of the proceedings."

"thank you, you're too kind," you whispered.

"ah, and one last thing," fyodor took your hand in his and pressed a dark green vial in it. your eyes widened as you quickly realized what it was.

"i-is this--?"

"the duke alexandrei has been suspicious of us lately," fyodor whispered, his gaze darkening. "if you can, slip it into his drink or soup later during the feast."

"but--"

"and he won't die instantly," fyodor cut you off. "this one acts slow and it will appear as if the duke has passed away from the flu."

"you want me to... poison him?" you felt your hands sweat even as they closed around the vial. fyodor gave you a long look before chuckling and patting your head, as if you were a child asking a silly question.

"one of the things i love about you is how naive you are, y/n," fyodor said. "the duke is hardly going to be the last. if you think that i'm the only one who went to such... lengths to achieve what i want, then i'm afraid you're mistaken."

with that, fyodor checked himself one last time in the mirror before walking towards the door.

if only you hadn't walked in on him that night. but then again, even being associated with a man such as fyodor was dangerous enough. you were no different from a poor little mouse who was unfortunate enough to wander into a trap.

"what makes you any different then?" you found yourself asking out loud.

"me?" fyodor paused with his hand on the door. "i'm simply one step ahead of everyone else."

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

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[thebeautyoffanfics]

Hi!!! I'm not a fan of x readers that are romantic, but could you maybe do headcanons for Hanako, Kou, and Mitsuba with a close friend who has mental illness that gives them emotional control issues and is often alienated and treated like an insane freak by their classmates because of having outbursts/meltdowns/screaming fits/panic attacks in class and is currently crying on the ground clawing at their face and calling themself a monster after a particularly bad one of these incidents?? If that sounds concerning specific, erm..... I'm fine, don't worry.

(platonic) hanako and gn!reader, kou minamoto and gn!reader, mitsuba sousuke and gn!reader

a/n: of course!! I know you said not to worry, but I do hope you’re doing alright <3!!! Thank you so much for requesting!! (i also feel the need to say, this is my first mitsuba request,,, i love him so much, so i'm not complaining- i just realized it and was like "huh. wonder why i haven't gotten one before")

warnings: self harm, panic attacks, self hatred (is that what I’d put it as,,? I’m not sure-)

word count: collectively, 1,355

Hanako ☆

Hanako considered himself lucky that he was sitting alongside your class that day. He probably sat behind you, not even paying attention to the lesson- just enjoying trying to replicate the feeling of being alive. Should you start to panic a bit, he’ll pick up on it, sitting up and giving you a concerned glance.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

You gave him some sort of response, earning glances from your classmates that definitely didn’t help the situation. No matter how harshly Hanako glared at their stares, the others couldn’t see him silently telling them to mind their business. 

“(Y/N)-”

“I’M FINE-”

Hanako felt bad for pestering, watching the reactions from your classmates grow even more negatively. Several murmurs, as your teacher asked if you needed to excuse yourself. Once you got up, Hanako followed you into the hallway, watching as you slumped to the ground and began to cry. 

Hanako was already in “protect my friend at all costs” mode, but seeing you like that only made his worry heighten, as he sat in front of you. He’d make sure that you knew he was in front of you by gently saying your name, or even just greeting you. He didn’t want to send you any further into panic with loud noises, so he was really trying to be as caring as he could.

He noticed you bringing your hands to your face as you began to speak, and felt himself freeze up a bit. After a moment of processing your actions, he grabbed your hands, holding them carefully as you called yourself a monster. He knew personally what it was like to hate yourself, hate your actions like that- the moment those words left your mouth, his heart felt like it was stabbed.

“You’re not a monster, (Y/N).” Hanako told you. Despite telling you it firmly, the care and concern was laced in his voice. Even if you continued to call yourself a monster, trying to free your hands from his grip, he wouldn’t give in. Deep down he was aware that restraining you like that probably wasn’t the best option, but all he knew was that he didn’t want you to hurt yourself.

Hanako would sit there with you as long as you needed. Any time a negative word left your mouth, he’d correct you- even when you began to calm down, he’d continue telling you that you weren’t a monster. You couldn’t help the hand you’d been dealt in life. You weren’t the one at fault. He cares for you deeply. You’re an amazing friend. Even as a ghost, just having you around made his lifeless heart feel warm.

Kou Minamoto ☆

I feel like Kou is very perceptive of others, all while being the least judgmental person you may have met in your life. Once he noticed you growing anxious, he felt himself growing anxious- he’d glance at you, trying to get your attention so that he could ask if you were alright. It probably didn’t work, and things soon escalated.

In a matter of minutes, you were rushing outside the class, leaving the rest of your classmates muttering and giving each other glances. Kou felt himself growing annoyed at the comments, and he quickly stood up, excusing himself to the teacher before shouting at his classmates to leave you alone. He then would also walk into the hall, and nervously rush to find you. 

Once he spotted you on the ground, he’d feel a bit relieved that he didn’t have to search too hard. However, once he noticed your hands clawing at your face, as you called yourself a monster, his heart rate went up once again. Kou would quickly go over to you, sitting in front of you and pulling your hands from your face.

In times like these, you can’t convince me that Kou doesn’t try and copy what Teru would do- he looks up to his brother so much, and assumes that whatever Teru would do must be the right thing. That being said, he’ll gently hold your hands, his face as gentle as ever, but still serious. He’s instantly ready to listen to whatever you have to say and to encourage his friend.

Once you muttered the word monster again, Kou would interrupt you, saying that you weren’t a monster. “You’re an amazing friend, and person, (Y/N). You aren’t a monster.”

Even if you tried to explain to him why you were a monster, giving excuses in between shaky breaths and tears, he wouldn’t give in. “No matter what. You aren’t a monster. You’re an amazing human being. You can’t help your actions. It’s no excuse for others to see you any less- anyone who does isn’t worth your emotions. You’re perfect, (Y/N). You’re just as you’re supposed to be.”

Kou will still listen if you decide to vent. He’ll let you pour your heart out to him if you want, all while still giving you the best encouragement he can. If you don’t want to vent, that’s fine too. Kou is still there, telling you how amazing you are. Kou sits there with you until you’ve completely calmed down- and, even then, he keeps a careful eye on you for the rest of the day (if you even decide to stay at school. Kou will definitely encourage you to go home, as he knows how tiring crying is. He doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself, but the decision is still yours.)

Mitsuba Sousuke ☆

I feel like Mitsuba is… very poor at encouraging others. His specialty is insults- pointing out people’s flaws. However, all that time spent pointing out the flaws of others, he’s been able to pick up on a few good things about people. Heck, that's probably how the two of you became friends- noticing good things about you, and a mix of interest in your personality. 

Mitsuba isn’t one for sitting in on classes, especially after losing his memories and practically becoming a different person. With a lack of sense of self, he’s not going to bother with a sense of being alive for a while. In fact, it probably makes him uncomfortable-

Almost as uncomfortable as the feeling he gets when he sees you on the floor in hysterics. Mitsuba isn’t the expert when it comes to emotions but, nonetheless, at seeing a friend cry he barely has to think before rushing over to you. 

He was about to ask whether or not you were alright, before noticing as you clawed your face. “(Y/N)?” He questioned, quickly squatting to your level. He grabbed your hands, yanking them somewhat harshly away from your face as he heard you begin to call yourself a monster.

Mitsuba is honestly about ready to go off, but he stops himself at realizing that- hey. Maybe yelling at someone who’s in the middle of what is apparently a pretty rough panic attack is not a good idea? Yeah. Good choice, Mitsuba- nice thinking.

“You’re not a monster, (Y/N). Even if you were, there are plenty of monsters around. Sitting right in front of you is a monster, so don’t insult us.”

If you tried to explain what happened, or why you call yourself a monster, Mitsuba will listen and give his two cents. To him, things like that are purely, innately, unfortunately part of existing. “Some people handle things differently than others. It makes you no more a monster than it does anyone else. I’m sure you’re scared, I’m sure you don’t mean to lash out, but it’s not like it’s your choice.”

He’ll sit there as long as you cry, probably gently hushing you- not in a mean or degrading way, but like you’d do a child that’s crying. Once you calmed down, he’d stand up, telling you that you’d better not go anywhere. “I’m going out of my way to get something for you, so don’t do anything.” After being gone for a minute or so, he’d return with tissues and would hand them to you casually. He really wants to seem like he doesn’t care, but you should know that he genuinely does.

[haikyuu-appreciation-club]

hii!! this is actually my first time requesting so I'm a little bit nervous about this. but would it be alright to ask for hcs with hinata, bokuto, and iwaizumi with an s/o who has this irrational fear of when they're walking and they don't see the person they're walking with in front of them or beside them, they (s/o) automatically assume that the person they're with left them and starts crying or pinging their phone? and when they ask they're s/o about it, they tell them that it was because when they were younger their mom always made them walk in front of her when she's in a bad mood and younger them just thought that their mom made them do this so that she could abandon them and leave them to be lost? it's totally fine if you don't want to do it! ^^

• Hinata, Bokuto, + Iwaizumi W/ a S/O Who Has a Fear of Getting Lost •

warnings: descriptions of a panic attack

genre: comfort + fluff

characters: hinata, bokuto, + iwaizumi

a/n: i’m so sorry that these are crappy, it’s been so long since i’ve written hcs 

•Hinata•

hinata was beyond excited to bring you along with him to the winter festival

not only did he get to stuff himself full of good food but he got to spend the entire night spending time with you

being as eager as he was, he picked you up early from your house and dragged your intertwined hands towards the bright lights that shone down the road

the winter festival was an extremely popular event in miyagi so it wasn’t a huge surprise that when the two of you finally arrived, it was packed with people

hinata payed the large crowd no mind, too focused on the bright lights and the smells flying through the air to care about the amount of people

you on the other hand began to grow worried, with the extreme amount of attendees the chances of getting separated from hinata were through the roof

however, you decided to push away your worries so you could just enjoy the night, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves and reaching a hand out to grip onto hinata’s sweater

but nothing but the cold night air met your fingers as they curled back into your palm

in a moment of panic your gaze swept across the crowd, eyes growing wide when you failed to spot your boyfriend

with shaky hands you fished around in your bag for your cellphone, quickly scrolling through your contacts and clicking on hinata’s name

the dial tone blared through your ears as chants of ‘please pick up’ fell from your lips

after what felt like an eternity the line connected and you could’ve swore you let go of a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding

“Y/N where’d you go? I turned around but you weren’t there. Stay put and i’ll find you, kay?”

the line cut off as quickly as it connected and you were left clutching your cellphone in the middle of the busy street

you manged to make your way to the sidewalk in your frightened state as familiar thoughts slipped into your mind

he had told you he was on his way to come find you but all your brain had registered was that hinata had left you and was never coming back

it wasn’t until you felt a warm hand on your shoulder that you were ripped from those thoughts

your glossy eyes moved from the cracked pavement to the bright grin that was spread across hinata’s face

“There you are! Sorry, i should’ve made sure you with me-”

he stopped his train of thought when he noticed the hurt painted across your face

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“T-Thought you left me.”

his heart broke at those words as he slid down next to you and pulled you into a tight embrace

“I’m super sorry Y/N. I promise i’d never leave you on purpose. You mean so much to me and there’s no where else i’d rather be then right here with you.”

a sigh of contentment left your lips as you leaned into his touch, knowing he meant every word

“It’s okay Sho, i’m just glad you’re here now”

he beamed at you as he moved to stand up, extending a hand towards you

“Yup, and now that i am we can go have fun!”

the two of you spent the rest of the night laughing and smiling with one another, hand in hand as you stuck by each other’s side

•Bokuto•

bokuto was so excited to take you along to watch your first in-person pro-volleyball game

of course you’d attend his games before but this was the first time you’d be able to see a professional game from somewhere other than his living room television

you were pretty fired up too, growing to love the sport just as much as bokuto did during your relationship with him

the two of you walked into the stadium hand in hand, bokuto rambling in excitement as his eyes trailed across the environment

you followed his gaze, looking about the huge structure around you and the many people that wandered throughout it

you knew professional games were obviously popular but you didn’t expect it to be so crowded

you were growing nervous, subconsciously squeezing bokuto’s hand out of habit as your sight shifted from one person to the next

bokuto’s eyes wandered to you due to the increased amount of pressure youd applied to his hand, wondering what had you so fidgety

“What’s wrong Y/N? Something bothering you? Oh, do you have to go to the bathroom? I’ll show you where it is!”

before you could protest, you were being dragged towards the direction of the restroom

it’s not as if you could turn down bokuto’s offer after he gave you such a confident smile at the door to the bathroom, so you gave him a quick hug and walked in

it was much more peaceful behind the closed doors, the soft music drowning out the anxiety that had previously overwhelmed you

after spending a believable amount of time in the restroom you turned to examine your appearance in the mirror once more before stepping outside

your gaze imminently wandered to the place where your boyfriend had stood prior

only to find that he was no longer there

your eyes quickly darted around the area, head turning almost painfully fast in attempts to scout out bokuto, but it was no use

your chest began to tighten as your breath picked up in pace

you felt light headed, dizzy, and so incredibly lonely

why did he have to leave you here? where could he have gone?

you stumbled, attempting to grip the wall to steady yourself but you missed

before your head met the floor you heard the crinkle of wrapping as a large hand gripped at your arm

you sank to the floor with the figure before you were wrapped in a comforting hug

“Y/N, it’s okay, i’m here. Just try and breathe for me, okay? Look, you can listen to my heartbeat too!”

your head was lightly pushed up against bokuto’s chest as his heartbeat filled your ears

slowly, your breath began to match the soothing sound as you came down from your breakdown

once your breathing had returned to normal bokuto pulled you away from his grasp and gave you a frown, hair falling with it

your eyes wandered around and moved from the sad boy in front of you to the snacks spread across the floor behind him

“I’m sorry Y/N, i just went to grab us snacks. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I love you a whole bunch and i promise i’d never leave you all by yourself like that.”

your shaky hand moved to cup bokuto cheek as you gave him a soft smile

“It’s okay Ko, you’re here now and that’s all that matters. Now let’s go watch that game, kay?”

his grin returned as he pulled you into another hug

“Sounds good to me.”

The two of you made your way to the stands with snacks in hand and spent the rest of the day in each other’s company

•Iwaizumi•

you and iwaizumi decided to spend your sunday afternoon window shopping in the plaza near his home

both of you had things to purchase so it made the most sense to kill two birds with one stone and spend time with one another as you found what you needed to

your dates together were always like this, never too fancy but always giving you the opportunity to spend time with one another, which was more than enough for the both of you

the two of you walked side by side down the sidewalk, chatting and peering through windows at different merchandise on display

normally it wasn’t too packed when you came to visit the shopping center but it was the weekend after all and pretty close to a holiday so it was a lot more packed than usual

however, you decided to pay it no mind today, way too focused on that adorable bag you spotted in a bouquet the two of you had just passed to worry about something like a crowd

you turned to tap iwaizumi on the shoulder so you could drag him to the shop, only to realize he wasn’t next to you like he had been prior

in fact, as your gaze wandered about the crowd you found that he was nowhere in sight

imminently, panic began to set in as tears pricked your eyes

he was gone and you had no idea where he could be in this sea of people

and although this wasn’t intentional on iwaizumi’s part, your brain told you that maybe he wanted to leave you stranded on the busy streets

your sniffles turned into quiet sobs as you cried into your hands, eyes still trying to find your boyfriend through blurry vision

swiping at your tears didn’t help your search either as muffled hiccups began to escaped your lips

you were about to completely give up and breakdown when you heard your name being called out somewhere in the crowds of people

eyes widened as you began frantically looking around for the source of the familiar voice and soon enough you spotted iwaizumi running towards you, a concerned look on his face

you sprinted towards him, sobs still wracking your body as you arms found their way around his torso, burying your face into his broad chest

he returned the embrace, holding you tightly as he felt your hot tears wet his grey t-shirt

“It’s okay Y/N, i’m right here. I’m so sorry, i’m not going anywhere i promise. I love you so much and id never leave you like that.”

after some time your sobs returned to mere sniffles in iwaizumi’s grasp

you felt safe and content knowing that your boyfriend was in arms reach once more

once you’d calmed down, the two of you continued your shopping, iwaizumi holding your hand just a little bit tighter this time around

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[kaderp]

ALRIGHT FUCKERS THIS IS GONNA BE A HELLA LONG MEGAPOST AS I WAS GIVEN THE OK

BASICALLY this is gonna be a collection of bullshit me and @blackfliesinbluesugar have come up with and drawn

It starts with Goldie still living in Ireland at 17-19 and Scrooge from ages 18-20 staying in Scotland. And long story short they're dumbasses as teens. Cliche forbidden romance type stuff. Goldie's dad has shot people in the foot for trying to mess around with Goldie or just even talk to her for too long. So the only logical explanation they have is make Scrooge hide in the barn when he visits.

Basically Scrooge chills in the barn for a while cause Goldie's the only one that ever really goes in there because she's in charge of all the chores there. Which is where the context of this post is from

After the first time they fooled around Goldie was like 'oh crap what if I got pregnant D:' and told her mom she's going through a phase of flowey/big dresses when in reality she's trying to hide a potential baby bump. Now her mom doesn't care because she's too caught up in the fact that Goldie is finally 'acting like a lady.'

So eventually because they never put together that 'hey, if we keeping doing this we're gonna end up with a baby', Goldie does end up pregnant. And because her dad is a dick and a 'I catch you with my daughter then you die' type of shotgun dad, Goldie is freaking tf out.

About a month after she finds out she's pregnant, the O'Gilt's (well mostly just Goldie and her mom lol) get invited to a fancy dinner and Scrooge is really wanting to see Goldie again. So what better way to see her than to travel to Ireland, steal a uniform, and sneak into said dinner party as a busboy. Problem is he can't risk Goldie's dad seeing him again so he tries to slick back his whiskers

But while Scrooge is running around, he eventually spots Goldie across the room. Now he's never seen her in anything fancy, usually just the flannel and green work skirt. And he just about dies 😭

By now she has a bit of a baby bump she's had to hide so she normally goes for high waisted dresses that immediately flow out.

Anyways, as Scrooge is putting on the uniform he realizes he has absolutely no idea how to actually be a busboy. He doesn't know the first thing about dining and stuff so he's just like AAAAAAA

As they both see each other, Scrooge gives a dorky grin and Goldie smiles before realizing he snuck in. Right when Scrooge goes to see her he gets dumped with a bunch of dishes he has to set. Goldie sees him struggling to figure out how to set a table and he just gives her a nervous grin while she's like 'oh you beautiful dumbass -_-'

She's turning red cause she's trying so hard not to burst out in laughter as Scrooge slips and a bunch of silverware falls on him

He's getting yelled at by the director but he's just giving Goldie a goofy grin from across the room.

Her parents: remember to be calm and not make a scene no matter wh-

Goldie watching Scrooge trip on the tablecloth: BWAHAHA

But as the dinner progresses, Goldie remembers Scrooge doesn't even know she's pregnant. So she keeps trying to tell him but they both constantly get pulled away to do other things.

Towards the end of dinner Scrooge gets a free moment and realizes then that 'holy shit I actually like really love her!' So he darts to wherever she is and is struggling to get it out cause he doesn't know how much time he has left. He eventually spits it out and tells Goldie he loves her and is immediately called away. Scrooge takes her hands and quickly kisses her cheek before running to wherever the director is calling him from.

Goldie is shocked and stays still for a moment but by the time the shock wears off she realizes Scrooge is already long gone and they don't see each other again. And now Goldie's like 'crap crap crap, he said he loves me and I didn't even tell him I'm pregnant.'

They aren't able to communicate for a while cause Goldie's so focused on trying to keep her family pleased while still hiding her baby bump, and Scrooge keeps getting sidetracked and forgetting to write. (You can't tell me that isn't something he'd do because he kept getting distracted in the life and times when coming back home). He has her address, and he has started a letter, and even his family knows about her. 3ish months pass of no communications until one night Goldie starts contractions.

She darts to the barn after the first contraction and realizes she has to do this alone. A letter takes a day to get to Scrooge and going to Scotland herself would take closer to 7 hours. At that point it would be safer to not move.

It's like 3am by the time she lays and the egg ends up being pretty small. The entire time Goldie was just getting sicker and sicker. She ends up too weak to even hide the egg and has a high fever. She seriously thinks she's not gonna make it for the first night she can barely stay conscious.

The next morning she has just enough strength to lazily hide the egg in the hay and sluggishly make her way back to the main house. Her parents are already up and she explains she started feeling iffy while doing chores and collapses.

Because her parents aren't completely heartless and she still is their daughter, her parents' main focus shifts to trying to nurse her back to health. They assume she fell with a bad flu and don't know she had spent all night laying an egg.

During this time she writes to Scrooge telling him to get over here asap, it's an emergency.

Goldie's parents take over her chores in the barn and the moment they said that Goldie went into panic mode again. During a lunch break she climbs through her window and runs to the barn to hide the egg better. She does, and she successfully makes it back to her room but collapses again and sleeps until the next day.

Scrooge arrives 3 days after she lays and now she's really panicking. She's still weak and sick, and her parents are coming closer and closer to finding the egg. Scrooge when he sees her is genuinely freaking out. Not only for the future and that he now has an egg, but because Goldie did it by herself in a dirty barn. She's still a little loopy even though it's been a few days and Scrooge just feels heart broken that he wasn't there to help. He starts going on a tangent about how she could have died but Goldie just kisses him to get him to stop blabbering.

Scrooge helps her clean up a bit cause even with her parents looking after her, she's still a mess. But as he's washing her and the egg up, they hear fighting from the main house. Her parents realized she wasn't in her bed. She starts crying and tells Scrooge he needs to run home asap because if her dad finds out he'll most definitely kill him and/or the baby.

(This was the first doodle for the au before deciding on an exact age/place/look so don't mind the sloppiness)

Scrooge escapes right as her dad comes in. She pulls the excuse of she thought she felt well enough to do chores.

Scrooge rn is running like a madman back to Scotland. He went from chilling with his family to being a father who's child needs to be kept secret within a day.

By the time Scrooge gets back home it's the middle of the night and is ngl feeling pretty overwhelmed. He tells Downy that he messed up and she's just like ??? So Scrooge holds up the egg and Downy just purses her lips like 'ah'

The next morning Scrooge explains to his family what happened and doesn't leave out any detail. Fergus and Downy obviously have mixed feelings. Scrooge is barely 19 yet he already has a kid??? But in the end they realize they can't change what's happened and focus on helping Scrooge protect this child.

Once the baby hatched, all mixed feelings from Downy erased and she just went into 'this is my grandbaby and no one will touch her' mood.

Scrooge and Goldie kept in contact from the moment Goldie gave away the egg. Because of the little incident of Goldie 'trying to do chores while sick,' she was put under close monitoring for the next few months and couldn't visit each other. After constant writing back and forth, they find a date to meet up half way between Scotland and Ireland so Goldie can meet her baby. They try to decide on baby names through the letter but they can't agree on anything. Goldie finds out that Scrooge moved out of his small Glasgow home and into McDuck Castle. He gives her the new location on the map as well.

The first time Scrooge tries to sneak out with the baby Fergus is just standing right outside with his brow arched and Scrooge starts freaking out.

Before Scrooge can apologize for trying to sneak out, Fergus just asks if Scrooge would like him to go with.

Scrooge is a little shocked but can't talk with the frog in his throat and just nods. Along the way Scrooge explains how he and Goldie have been trying to find the right time to sneak out for weeks because it was so hard for Goldie to get free time. She was sent to go across country to get supplies and uses that opportunity to go meet up with Scrooge and the baby again.

Fergus just nods and continues.

When they do see Goldie, she almost breaks down at the sight that the baby survived and is being raised in a good house hold and can't stop holding her. The baby is about 3 months old by now. They finally agreed on a name and she ended up being named Maryanne. (Yes Jelly and I chose that because it means Star of the Sea)

She has to give the baby back to Scrooge cause stupid teenage and still getting over pregnancy hormones are getting the better of her and she starts full on sobbing as she sits on the ground. Scrooge freezes cause he's like aaaaaa what do I dooooo while still holding the baby.

But Fergus crouches down to her and asks if she wants a hug. All Goldie can say is 'uh huh' and he just wraps himself around her. She hugs back and Fergus rocks back and forth until Goldie's calmed down.

'I'm sorry I pulled your son into the mess. I-I was just so scared that my papa w-would kill one of us that I didn't know what else to do.'

Fergus pulls her away so he can actually look at her. And part of him feels that tinge of fear and sadness that the two teens had experienced. He grabs onto her shoulders which causes Goldie to look up at him.

'While I dinnae agree what you two did was right. Ah'm proud of you. Because what you did, finding the will to give up a child for their own safety, took a lotta strength there, lass.' And before she can react, Fergus pulls her in again and let's it sink in.

Scrooge is still holding the baby but now he's sitting down and bouncing the cooing baby on his knee while watching the scene unfold.

Over the course of the next few months, Goldie visits as much as possible and she grows closer to the family and Scrooge every time. On the times she can't visit, Fergus accompanies Scrooge in order to protect them from Goldie's dad. She's had a few close calls with her dad, but nothing too serious

After those events, Goldie practically moves in with the McDucks and they work on raising Maryanne. However like in the Rosa series, they're still experiencing tax trouble and Scrooge says he's gonna have to go to South Africa. The baby is about 2 by now and Scrooge is almost 21, while Goldie is about 19 and a half.

(This next section was an accident but basically it started as jotting down ideas but turned into a fic after I said it would take 20 seconds to write but turned into 2 hours fjdbfndn)

Scrooge is torn between whether or not to go until Goldie says she'll go with him. And because she's stubborn, no one objects. So the three travel across the world together. Maryanne practically grows up on the sea and all of those adventures where Goldie is present in the DT17 Rewriting History book happen.

On adventures they trade off tying the baby to their backs until she's old enough to not need to anymore. Although for the more dangerous ones, one of them stays behind.

But because they weren't married and had a kid in their teens, they were generally looked down upon. It got to the point where they just started saying they were married in order to avoid conflict with others. And after a while they actually forgot they weren't in fact married

'Huh, I forgot we're not actually married.' 'WAIT WE'RE NOT???'

Or

'We're married' 'Oh ok, can i see your marriage records?' '... oh right'

But some old lady or old guy either way starts criticizing Goldie for being a young mother and they just deck the shit outta them and run. Or Goldie fighting someone with baby tied to her back.

Maryanne grows up to be an ocean cartographer and leads sailing expeditions and that's all we have for her. Also she has super blue eyes lol

That's basically almost all of the things we have for this au lol

[talesofsonicasura]

Broken Toys

Chapter 1: Bleed, I must be dreaming

Tragedy can give rise to many things. Rumors, change, legends than just suffering and heartbreak. One such creation had very bizarre habits in the eyes of a particular noodle shop owner. Warning: minor blood, slightly description of death and injuries, extraction of harmful object(goes with the minor blood), mild swearing, and one super creepy child. Prologue

'The Great Megapolis Raceway Disaster. On April 7, 20XX, an semi-annual street race had their route improperly marked and blockaded. As a result, the racers end up turning down a street full of people instead of an empty road.

The result was all 12 cars crashing into various buildings and bystanders as they tried to come to a halt. 30 injured with 7 being the drivers and 25 dead as 10 victims had succumbed to their fatal injuries. Strangely, 10 year old Qi Xiaotion, a child who was hit directly by the lead racer's car, body has subsequently vanished.

Police haven't found the missing child or any possibility he could be alive except for the remains of a Monkey King Plush and what is assumed to be the child's right arm and lower torso. Search is ongoing and any future updates are unknown.'

This national incident was widespread throughout the community of Megapolis for two reasons. One was that some of the victims had been either high up or related to powerful corporations throughout the city. A few of the casualties were rumored to be descendants of both well known demons and even some celestials such as the Yellow Wind Demon but also rumored Jade Emperor for some of his soldiers were said to be seen in the city.

Some speculated this was a planned terrorist threat but no evidence had been found. The second reason is the creation of an urban legend known as the Broken Toy Phantom. On that very day, the body of a 10 year old child had gone missing. After that, sightings of a strange entity began to crop up.

Witnesses said it looked like a child but had cotton coming from open stitches and sharp blades out of their skin. Whenever the Broken Toy Phantom was spotted, the chance of a large monster in the form of a destroyed children's toy would be there. It is said that if you meant no harm should you encounter this phantom, it would leave you alone.

To try and harm the phantom was met with the claws of the broken toys that protected the child. Only warning one had if they were in the presence of the Broken Toy Phantom is the vague image of a monkey plush that held glowing red eyes.

Pigsy's Noodles

It was a warm early morning for the city of Megapolis. The last dredges of Spring were slowly dwindling as Summer was almost here. A time of year for the popular restaurant Pigsy's Noodles to begin changing their menu in preparation for the hottest season.

This modest establishment known for its delicious noodles, homely and comfortable atmosphere was also a precious treasure to the owner. A pig demon nearing his 40s named Pigsy, this short and stout man was not only the store's owner but also the cook.

Every dish he made was handcrafted with strong dedication and passionate based skill that could be felt through every bite. So imagine the 5'2 tall pink skinned and dark blue eyed demon's face when he went to open up his shop for today. Lying at the front by the side of the door was a child.

A young boy probably around 10 years old who sat around 3'7 in height. Long wild dark brown that haven't seem to be washed in days, soft tan skin with a large stitch under his right eye alongside some on his arms from the man could see, an orange shirt with violet sleeves and red collar that were stitched on, black pants with the bottom half blue jean material that were also stitched on, violet sandals made from leather, polyester and felt fabric sewn together, and the creepiest doll he ever seen cuddled in the boy's arms.

It looked like one of those very rare limited edition Monkey King collectible plushies that his friend had been ranting on about. The only difference was the gold thread eyes were replaced with bulging white plastic eyes and the flat face instead had a large openable muzzle bearing large white felt teeth.

Despite laying on solid concrete, the young boy was comfortably fast asleep almost if used to doing such a thing. A bit confused and worried, Pigsy placed his keys in the breast pocket of his white polo shirt then walked up to the child. For a second, he thought the toy's bulging eyes went from looking at the ground and by proxy his black dress shoes and black work pants to stare the pig demon straight in the face.

Whatever the case, it didn't matter as the child began to wake up. Chocolate brown eyes looking straight at Pigsy, a look of nervous embarrassment came across the boy's face. "Heh heh… Looks like I overslept a bit." In seconds the child had jumped to his feet faster than any normal person could.

The nameless boy clutched the ominous Monkey King plush closer and put on a nervous smile. "Sorry about that sir. I'll get out of your hands now so you can open up shop without an issue." And before Pigsy could say anything, the child skipped away into an alley just as quickly.

The restaurant owner could only frown before heading into the shop. Homeless people weren't anything new, especially in a big city like this, but it stung more when a child is forced to survive on the harsh streets. All Pigsy could do at the moment was wish the young man good luck.

Next time the middle aged pig demon saw the mysterious kid was once again by his restaurant. It was nearly closing time when the bell of the shop's door rang. The establishment isn't anything grand, a few booths, stools set up at the front near the register, some potted plants and pastel white walls decorated with a couple photos.

Pigsy had poked his head from the back of the door to see that very kid walk in warily. Once again, he felt the eyes of the kid's plush looking straight at him. The restaurant owner had a feeling the doll was magical as the kid spotted him in seconds.

"Hello there. Welcome to Pigsy's Noodles. Please sit down and I can get you a menu." Pigsy put on a soft smile since he really didn't want to scare off the poor kid. The unknown boy nodded before sitting himself at one of the bar's stools.

When the restaurant owner had come back with a menu in hand, the kid's Monkey King plush was sitting on the table almost perfectly. By perfectly it meant that the doll didn't slouch and sat straight with the same dexterity of a living being.

Pigsy shrugged the oddness off and gave the kid his menu. "How are you doing today?" The restaurant owner's question had the boy look a bit from his menu. Shrugging at the inquiry, the child answered. "I'm doing fine. May I have a bowl of chicken lo mein please?"

Pigsy didn't take the menu just yet but had gone to the back to fix the boy's food. As he made the order, the demon could hear his customer talk from outside the kitchen. Or sing to be more accurate. "An old toy sat on the desk watching the day go by. Missing cotton, tons of stitches, a cherished plaything looked to the sky. The toy said: I may be damaged but I am beloved. Even broken toys like me can be loved."

The restaurant owner paused for a moment. He never heard a nursery rhyme like that before. It was strange but in an endearing sort of way. Pigsy had come back with the kid's bowl of lo mein to see the child was shuffling a deck of cards in his hand.

The man didn't recognize the brand or had a good chance to look when the boy had placed them in a deck case and deposited it into a sewed-in pocket. "One fresh bowl of chicken lo mein, enjoy kid." Rubbing his hands happily, the child grabbed a pair of chopsticks and dug into his food.

Pigsy cleaned up the remaining dishes while his young customer ate his food in silence. Once the demon had come back, the child and plush were suddenly gone. Not even the doorbell had moved an inch almost if the boy just vanished. In his place was some money alongside a note.

"Thank you for the meal, it was delicious. Have a good night and sorry for sleeping in front of your shop the other day. From MK and my little buddy Guarn." After reading the note, the restaurant owner had softly smiled before taking both the paper and cash left behind.

It was the only beginning of a MK's nightly visits. Near closing time, Pigsy was greeted by the child and his peculiar plush. At first, the boy wasn't much of a conversationalist. Something worrying since most kids the pig demon saw weren't this quiet even around strangers.

MK was also never without his plush Guarn. Pigsy had a suspicion that the plush was magical as he always felt that those plastic eyes were very aware of their surroundings. Whenever the restaurant owner felt like the doll was watching him out of the boy's view, MK seemed to know his presence. Almost like a separate pair of eyes.

He didn't know the child's situation other than homelessness and maybe magical plush but he had a feeling there was more to it. MK will open up when he is ready and Pigsy was a patient person. The demon did add some extra portions to the young man's bowl though.

A growing child needed proper nutrition or their growth would be stunted. He may be rough but the restaurant owner was far from heartless. In less than two weeks, MK began to open up more. That was the same time one of his regulars had also come back.

This 'customer' was one of his human friends known as Tang. A raven haired man who considered himself a scholar of sorts, and didn't really pay for the noodles he kept eating. Normally Pigsy would chase any dine and dashers out of his establishment but Tang was someone he could trust.

The scholar had gotten him out of some nasty jams in the past and someone he could talk to whenever the demon's stress reached its peak. Now you can imagine Pigsy's surprise when he saw Tang chatting animatedly with MK. The child who rarely talked was now chatting the spectacle raven's ear off.

Once again, the feeling of the Monkey King plush or Guarn came apparent as the child faced the restaurant owner with a sheepish grin. "Hey Pigsy, I didn't know you had a kid." That one sentence from Tang had both the demon and kid sputtering in seconds.

Between the two of them, MK had found his words. "No Mr Tang. Mr Pigsy is just a very nice man who gives me extra food when he thinks I haven't noticed. Plus, I'm pretty sure he hasn't filed any adoption papers yet." MK said, that sheepish grin becoming mischievous as he made Guarn blow a kiss.

The scholar laughed at the restaurant owner's further flustering face almost if the whole thing was planned. Something that was plausible considering this was Tang of all people. "Very funny you little minxes. What were you guys even talking about since MK doesn't really talk much around me?"

Pigsy's question was met with the little boy shaking his head. "I didn't want to bother you since you were probably tired and closing up shop. Mr Tang and I were talking about different legends like the Monkey King for one." The pig demon blinked his eyes in surprise.

So the reason MK was so quiet is because the kid didn't want to bother him? How considerate. "I appreciate your concern but you don't have to be silent all the time. Whatever topic or thing that pops in your head, you can talk about it. Might not always answer but that doesn't mean I'm not listening." Pigsy explained, the child nodding thankfully at his words.

That was one mystery about the kid out of the way. Only for Tang to bring up another. "Do you know that little MK here is an incredible craftsman? Show him that design you were working on." Smiling, the kid pulled something out of his pockets.

It was an incomplete small red tapestry depicting a peach tree that sat above a collection of clouds. The restaurant owner could only gawk at the masterful detail and skill that could easily be seen throughout the work. Every detail was as accurate as a photograph and not a single thread out of place.

"Holy moly kid! You made this?! I'm pretty sure you just put every seamstress from the Celestial Realm to shame." MK beamed happily at the restaurant owner's compliment. The kid was definitely a hard worker and that showed through his craft.

Even though culinary and weaving were different crafts, Pigsy could see the hard work, skill and dedication of a fellow artisan. "Thank you! I also make clothing and toys in my spare time. A good way to earn money so I can enjoy more of your tasty food."

From seeing the tapestry alone, both adults had a feeling that MK's clothing and dolls were made with equal skill. It did raise a question though. "Is your outfit like a fashion statement then?" Tang gestured to the boy's patchwork clothing.

Pigsy hit the scholar on the elbow for the offhanded inquiry but the child didn't seem bothered. "It actually is. You see I make all my stuff from mostly scraps rather than fresh materials. 'One man's trash is another man's treasure' type of ideology. Also recycles a lot of stuff people throw away that can still be used." MK flashed them a big toothy smile alongside his explanation.

Both men hummed at the answer. Like any big city, Megapolis had an issue with littering so the place was practically a gold mine for crafty people such as the kid. "Let me take your guys' order, and MK… you don't have to come by so late all the time. Come whenever you can and if anyone gives you a problem then I'll handle it."

Pigsy could only smile at the ecstatic look in the kid's eyes before the child ran over to both men. After that particular night, MK began visiting sometimes around mid day. On occasion, the boy would bring some of the crafts that he made.

Beautiful red ribbons decorated with gold dragons, a jade green cheongsam that held a silver depiction of a nine tailed fox, some plushies consisting of a gray rat with a heart in its paws, an ornate doll that wore a beautiful crimson Chinese dress and a white rabbit with a mallet used to make moon cakes.

Every piece was extremely well made alongside a story that MK would share with Pigsy or Tang. The rat plush beared the story of a fallen rat who was given a chance to relive their last day, the ribbons were of two dragons that strive to be with each other for eternity, and cheongsam was for a prince who escaped the life of royalty to live with a earnest farmhand that won his heart.

It only made both adults wonder how a talented kind child like MK ended up living on the streets by their lonesome. On a warm summer night, Pigsy was cleaning the front of the shop. The little boy wanted to help out around the restaurant so the demon let him wash the dirty dishes. Tang was also in the shop regalling a particular urban legend around Megapolis: the Broken Toy Phantom.

"-the Broken Toy Phantom must be a type of poltergeist. A very rare occurrence that poltergeists would roam with their haunted possession but the information all leads up. I even speculate that the phantom could have been brought to life after the Great Megapolis Raceway Disaster." Pigsy kept quiet while cleaning the tables but listened to the scholar's theory tangent.

The restaurant door suddenly opened with a loud slam, the restaurant owner turned around to be met with a gun aimed at his head. Pigsy didn't have to look to know that Tang had his hands up in the air since the scholar was now silent. Of course the pig demon needed a robbery once in his life.

From the looks of it, there were only three armed robbers with two being men and one woman. A white deer mask, black ski mask, and a turban paired alongside a thick bandana hid their identities. Right now Pigsy was praying to Guanyin that they don't find MK.

The kid wouldn't be able to survive a bullet should these bastards get trigger happy. "Alright, you two fuckers better listen to our demands right now. Give us everything you own and Porky here can open the register." Spoke the deer masked robber, poking the barrel of the gun to the restaurant owner's back.

Reluctantly Pigsy walked over to the register and took out the key. He was about to open up when… BANG! Horrified blue eyes watched as Tang fell to his knees, blood pouring from a bullet hole in his leg. The pig demon saw Tang's phone on the ground before the turban wearing robber stomped it to pieces.

"Call for help again then the next shot will go through your head, Four Eyes." Spoke the black ski mask who cocked his gun to reinforce the threat. Pigsy wanted to run over to Tang, treat his wound or help him up. However, he couldn't unless both of them were looking to get shot.

And the two hostages felt their hearts drop upon one single sound. "Excuse me." Standing on top of the bar table was little MK. Strangely, Guarn wasn't in the kid's hands as both were crossed against his chest. A large frown and judging chocolate eyes of the unnaturally calm child were aimed at the three robbers.

"What are you doing to Mr Tang and Mr Pigsy?" MK's once kind lively voice was now dead and cold like a grave. Neither the scholar or restaurant owner couldn't help feeling unnerved at the sudden change in the kid. It felt so wrong. Something that none of the robbers had noticed.

"It's a robbery little dipshit!" A haunting laugh came out of the kid, MK's eyes were alight in a twisted glee paired alongside a malevolent smile presenting unnaturally sharp teeth. "I know what a robbery is, you sad excuse of human scum. What I'm asking is why none of you haven't left yet?"

All three of the criminals were caught off guard by the little boy's taunt. None of them felt the child's ominous aura unlike Pigsy and Tang. What stood before them wasn't the same little boy that they've gotten to know over the past two months.

This was Death in the form of a 10 year old kid. "You barely have any mercy from me after this whore shot my friend in the leg. Lucky you that I was in a good mood, leave now or suffer the consequences. Know that you only have one chance between all three of ya cowardly worms!"

Offended by MK's threat, one of the robbers, the turban-wearing woman, aimed her weapon at the child. "Say goodnight brat! You have no power over us! That petty threat will be your last!" Finger on the trigger as she was ready to shoot the boy.

MK, still unfazed, shook his head almost if he was disappointed at the woman's choice. Then his smile grew so wide that it nearly tore the sides of his mouth, an insane look burned in now orangish brown orbs. "I warned ya. Davy Jones." With no warning, two long violet tentacles shot out from the darkness behind MK.

Both appendages wrapped around the woman and the man who shot Tang as the third deer mask robber watched in growing horror at what stood before them. Standing behind the 10 year old with two of the robbers wrapped in thick violet tentacles was a giant 15 ft violet plush squid.

It's squid capped head had four of those cap ridges with red stripes but also three mini tomahawk blades on the center top, black squid eyes that positioned on the sides of the mouth which held sharp teeth and a pair of glowing magenta eyes within the darkness, six small light cyan underside violet tentacle bearing some tomahawk blades, and two triple sized tentacles that had a black armband bearing a white skull n bones on the larger right.

"YARRRG! Those who dare trifle with Captain MK shall face the blades of Davy Jones!" A gruff, lightly deep, and growlish male voice ripped the monstrous toy's open mouth. Both caught robbers let out a strangled cry from the tentacles tightening their grip.

Immediately the remaining robber quickly went to shoot the monster plush or MK only for his weapon to be snatched from his hand's grip. Deer mask slowly looked down at the floor to see his gun in the paws of a particular bug eyed Monkey King plush.

Tang, Pigsy and the robbers saw a pair of glowing red eyes stare at them from within the small toy's mouth. Guarn then bit into the barrel of the weapon, felt teeth easily tearing through the metal and plastic like a hot knife against butter.

The immense shock nearly made the scholar and restaurant owner almost miss MK delivering a jump kick to the deer masked robber. Enough strength behind the blow to not only shatter the robber's mask but knock em fully unconscious. Davy Jones tightened his grip further until the two snared robbers fell limp like their comrade.

Pigsy immediately ran over to Tang once knowing they were now safe. The little boy followed suit, his ominous aura gone while the large plush kraken harshly dropped the two robbers. "Mr Tang, please bite on this while I get the bullet out." MK handed the raven a red plush oven cloth.

Pigsy had to put the rag in the scholar's mouth as he was too busy staring in shock at MK's fingers. The index and ring fingers of the boy's hands were torn apart by black claws growing from inside. Tang let out a harsh muffled scream when those sharp obsidian claws dug into the wound.

After a few seconds, MK pulled out the bloody bullet. He dropped it to the ground so he could pull out a sewing kit and needle. "I'm guessing you're the Broken Toy Phantom." Pigsy spoke for Tang while the boy began to sew the wound close. The little brunette merely nodded as he thread the needle through the scholar's leg.

"Yep! Although I'm not really a poltergeist, just a newly minted toy demon. Didn't think I had to bring out any of my Frightfur family so soon. Honestly, I hope that I had more time to figure out how to introduce you guys." MK tore the thread off the needle once it was sewn tightly.

Neither adult said a word since the kid did have a point. A giant plush kraken bearing razor sharp teeth and tentacles that ended with large tomahawks wasn't exactly friendly looking. Or the implications that MK had more than one of these peculiar beings.

Both men's thoughts on the subject were derailed in surprise when the sewed up bullet wound shrunk until unmarred skin was left. "Healing Suture Thread, perfect for minor to serious injuries. It works on humans too rather than just Frightfurs, Fluffals or Edge Imps." The little boy turned to see Davy Jones finish tying up the three attempted robbers.

Guarn waddled over to the brunette, climbing up the kid's clothes then situated itself on MK's shoulder. Tang took the rag out of his mouth and suddenly hugged the toy demon much to the latter's surprise. "We're just glad you're okay. You gave us both a heart attack back there with that stunt."

Davy Jones let out a hearty laugh from the flustered look on his smaller companion's face. Pigsy couldn't help the chuckle that came out of his throat to the little boy's further surprise. Soon enough, MK found himself laughing with them as he hugged the scholar back.

If this was a dream, then he didn't want to wake up. Moments like this should last as long as they can.

And that's it! MK has officially met Pigsy and Tang. I can say that the MK you are seeing at the moment...is more than he seems to be. Something that will be looked over in the next chapter.

Tang and Pigsy are going to take more fatherly roles involving our newly minted toy demon. A factor being MK's age and situation when they first met.

MK will be 21 when I get into the LMK series and there will be changes to particular episodes or plot pilots. Any major changes will have the episode title be replaced with a song.

Now people have been wondering MK's actual age in canon out of general curiosity and a certain pairing called Peachnoodles for certain artists and writers have been frowned upon. The driving law in China requires the person to be 19 in order to legally drive, so MK has to be 19 or a bit older in canon.

I hope this clears stuff up for ya curious folk.

The song used for this chapter is 'Bleed, I must be Dreaming' by Evanescence. Actually thought of using Evanescence's Imaginary but this felt more suited.

Will be going over the remaining Fluffals before we reach the next chapter for Broken Toys! Stove Novas next chapter is in the review stage so be on the lookout for that next! I'll see you guys back at Megapolis.

Song used👇

Main Page

[the-hoarse-bard]

Caesar had quite the sickening grin as I returned from the arena. I could hear that sadistic grin as he spoke, "I'm sure you found Benny's demise pleasing. The destruction of an enemy... There are few things more satisfying. Let's press on, shall we? As I was telling you before, I want Mr. House out of the picture. You have an interest in his death too, if he finds you destroyed his gadgets beneath the Fort, he will strike back. You know where to find him. How he dies, I leave that to you."

It was my turn to scoff. I couldn't stand this pompous pricks presence anymore, "I'm not working for you anymore. I got what I came for, we're done." Caesar's expression turned sour, "Mark my words, you piece of shit. This is the last time you will ever refuse to perform an order I've given you. If you mean what you say, you'd best be on your way, and at great speed. And forget all I could have given you." I took a bow, and turned and walked out of that tent, glad to be free of the foul company.

I met back up with ED-E and Veronica, who were watching the recruits clean up the arena, and waved for them to follow. Veronica asked, "So what happened? We working for the dictator now?" I shook my head, "Nah. I told him to get stuffed. I was only here for Benny. He can keep whatever he'd call a reward." Veronica hummed as we passed out into the outer part of the camp, "Do you think that was a good idea? I mean, he is powerful. He could have you killed at any moment, we are still in the lions den here."

I leaned over to Veronica and whispered, "I picked up Benny's gun after our fight in the arena. I think Caesar knows I have it and isn't willing to risk any of his warriors on taking me out while I'm armed. He's a coward. That's why we're getting out of here after I told Caesar to go fuck himself. Thinking about it, maybe that's why Benny held onto it... So I wouldn't just be offed after him." I leaned back as we approached the front gate, Veronica nodding. "And as for power, who gives a shit? Power never lasts, no matter how strong it seems. That's why I want to oust House. He's not saving Vegas, he's throttling it for the sake of profit." We reclaimed our weapons from the praetorian at the gate and were walked down to the ferry, and we were rowed back to Cottonwood Cove.

It was very early morning by the time we made it back to Cottonwood Cove. I took the boat ride as an opportunity to nap. Veronica woke me up as we arrived, and we stepped off into at least somewhat safer territory. From the dock, I noticed one of the buildings on the shore had a fenced off area behind it with some people in it. Maybe this would be an opportunity to give one last middle finger to Caesar before leaving...

I leaned up against the building right where the fence began and lit up a cigarette, trying to look casual. While my hand was covering my face, I whispered toward a woman on the other side of the fence, "Psst. What say I get you out of here?" She perked up and looked at me as I took a drag from the cigarette, "What? You'd do that?" I nodded, closing my eyes to make it look like I was just tired. No idea if anyone was watching us. The woman whispered to me, "Well, first you'd have to get the key. It's on a praetorian named Canyon Runner. About this time, he should still be in bed. He sleeps in this building." I took another long drag on the cigarette, whispering back to the trapped woman, "I'll be back soon. Be ready to leave as soon as you can." I stood up straight and tossed the cigarette butt on the ground, and stamped it out. I had to admit, Benny had good taste in smokes.

I circled around to the buildings entrance, checking there was no guard present. I signaled Veronica to keep watch, she gave a thumbs up, and I headed inside. The inside looked like some kind of storage building, with a pair of bunk beds at the far end. Only one occupied, by who I assumed must be Canyon Runner. I crept up to the side of the bed, and saw the key around his neck. I grabbed the string holding the key with both hands and pulled on the key until the cord snapped. I held my breath, waiting to see if he'd felt anything. Canyon Runner just rolled over. I sighed in relief and made a quick exit.

Veronica was still waiting outside the door with ED-E. She looked at me as I left and I gave her a thumbs up. She gave one back and we returned to the slave pen. I crouched down next to the fence and passed the key through. With shaking hands, the woman on the other side took it and quickly unlocked the explosive collar around her neck. The others gathered around and she unlocked all of them before creeping over to the gate and unlocking it.

As they were leaving the pen, a shout was heard from behind me, "Stop!" I turned around. A recruit had caught us in the act. It was a standoff. We stood stock still in the earliest morning light. I shouted, "Run!" and quickly drew Lucky, firing a shot into the recruits neck. Doubtlessly, the whole camp heard the shot. We'd have to fight our way through, but at least it got the slaves enough time to book it.

[jennsmischievousmind]

Fucks not Found

Ghosts

Summary: You hack, that's what you do. Dying to do so freely, wasn't what you had expected. Meeting the weirdest fucking squad; losing the best part of you; falling for a thief : was not planned.

Pairing : Four/Billy (Ben Hardy) - You

A/N: The story goes through the all movie, so I suggest you watch it before reading.

I don't own any characters other than Eight.

English is not my native language, I'm trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.

Tried my best to match Ryan Reynold's level of sass aha

Ch1 Ghosts | Ch2 Florence | Ch3 A Matter of Seconds | Ch4 I need a Backdoor | Ch5 Die Hard | Ch6 White Flag | Ch7 Haunt the Living | Ch8 One, but not done [end]

This is how you die.

"So you're the one who hacked the wrong guy" You swiftly turn around gasping at the sudden voice in your apartment

"Depends, you’re his hitman?" You were ready to run even if it means jumping by the window.

"Nooo, I'm an angel.” You snort at his sarcasm, unknown to you at this moment that he was full of it.

"Wanna disappear?" he asked taking a seat at the kitchen table eyeing your bags at the door.

"In a body bag? Slowly you make your way to the knives, just in case.

"You are a funny one, aren't you? I know the man you stole from, you won't get far until he got you. But, he emphasized, if you’re willing to do what's right.."

"I've already done my part for the flag." Assuming he was American by the way he talked.

"I'm not talking about shitty drug dealers. But evil war-lovers, genocide perpetrators, that kind of shitty so-called human. Those ones that are above the laws with governments' balls in their hands, ready to squish them.”

"That's gross" your brother appeared from the adjacent room. You let your mind consider the stranger’s offer as soon as you look at your confused brother, knowing he was in danger because of you.

“You two look at lot alike.” The guy leaned in, screwing his eyes at you both.

“We’re twin dumbass” your brother answered glancing at you wondering.

“What’s the deal?” you asked considering the offer

The guy smirked, “Well, to be short you die, and then you take down evil motherfuckers without governments’ backlash on you.” He tapped his fingers against the Formica table.

It took 5 minutes.

"One condition, my brother comes to!"

"What's he good at?" he crossed his arms.

"I can drive…Hold on what? Die? Who the fuck are you!?”

"Already too many questions” he rolled his eyes

"He's a hell of a driver, it got him under surveillance when he got chased by 6 police cars after an illegal race back in the States."

"So they caught up Muttley” the guy clucked his tongue

“Hey!”  

"No, you interfered almost ashamed, I told him to stop the car...I got motion sickness."

The guy erupted in laughter, you two watching him unamused.

_

“I’m more like Peter Perfect.”  Your brother mumbled as the guy left.

You look by the window discreetly, catching a glimpse of the guy mingling in the crowd. “You’re Muttley bro.”

A week later you got a text. The guy who called himself One had planned your fake death. A random trek in Italy’s mountains, an assumed fatal fall, no bodies recovered.

It was never supposed to be your life. But we all know nothing happens as it should.

Papà went to fight a war and disappeared, you were forced to move in America when you were 6.

Mammà never cope the loss of her motherland and husband. She died of a belated broken heart syndrome when you were 16. 

Both you and your brother were placed in a host family. It wasn’t a crappy family like it’s always the case in some tv show, they were nice and wealthy. The father was a tech engineer, somehow you took interest in his work and start learning to code, soon reading about hackers: white hats; black hats; “We are Legion”, you were hooked and skilled in a matter of time.

When you turned major though, things turned difficult, the host family had to let you go and Internal Affairs of your state caught you looking in their network. Which led to you working as a C.I for them, it was that or prison. Not thrilled by the idea but obliged to cooperate was your new motto.

Your brother had some job here and there but nothing steady, so money from the IA was welcome.

After a year and a half, I.A ditched you, it was rather good news in a way, they’ve erased your past mistakes but said they’d keep a distant eye on you.

So you moved on from your shithole that was the 1 bedroom apartment you and your brother shared and went to your parents’ hometown in Italy. Your brother was reluctant at first as he couldn’t even say hello in Italian, you taught him as your mamma had done it with you but he wasn’t that interested.

Working with people was not your forte, you were too bossy, so you got fired ... plenty of times: from a coffee shop, a rental bike shop and a tourist city tour bus thingy. So you started doing what you were good at, hacking for money, it went well for a few years, never being too greedy - until you hacked the wrong person and got in trouble.

That's how you became a Ghost and ended up in the middle of the California Desert.

_

One had built a squad. No names, only numbers to identify each other. Not calling your brother by his name was a challenge, same for him.

There were 7 of you.

One, the “boss”, a mysterious sassy billionaire who decided to fund his own strike team.

Two, a French blonde woman, pretty cold, a spy apparently

Three, a crazy hitman who couldn’t shut up

Four, a young parkour master and reformed thief

Five, a Doctor, but you heard she was actually working at a Dentist

Six, your brother, the annoying driver.

And then Eight, you, the Black Hat somehow becoming a hacktivist.

Why not Seven? Long story short, it was one more condition you’d submitted to One.

_

_SICILY

"Your focus determines your reality.”

“Oh for fuck's sake One, quit your Jedi bullshit!” you loosed your temper typing on your keyboard angrily. An entire week, an ENTIRE WEEK quoting Star Wars!

Four and Five laughed in the comm. One braced himself on the other end of the line. Three cut the heavy silence.

“Eight, Chiquita please stop yelling”

“I’m not a Chiquita stop saying that!”

“Ok ok chi…Eight, damn you’re stressful” 

“God, why do I have to team you up!!” One facepalm

“Now what?” Five asked

Radio silence

“Oh so now no one’s talking! What are you, 4?” One angrily called out to you 2.

“Yeah, uh high, literally.” Four answered One, you snorted.

“No ..  damn not you!”

“You called me Mate!” Four said offended

“No, shush – Eight are you done with the system?” he was about to lose it.

“I’ve been done with it the second Three called me Chiquita!” you crossed your arms in front of your laptop.

“Hey ..” “We’re not talking about that again!” One cut Three

“Can we get going now?” Two interfered, you heard her bike roaring.

“Finally, some sensed words.” One said wrapping it up.

Four entered the place you’d hacked the system of. Six and Two were not far in case of trouble.

“Four, the hard drive is in the main office. Second floor.” One enunciated, you followed Fours progression with the security cameras.

It was enlivening, stressful, but oh so exciting. When you worked with I.A you were never there when they’d go down in action, it was nothing but boring data researched and dealer’s MacBook.

“Freeze Four, guards coming east.” Switching cams you gave him a safe path.

“Ok, you’re clear. Now to your left, third door then turn right.”

Four got his hands on the hard drive containing all you needed to know about the next target.

“Well done.” One congratulated the team

“Thanks, thanks, It helps to have a sexy voice guiding you” Four chuckled, you blushed, sexy voice? is that even possible?

“Great, kid. Don’t get cocky.”

You rolled your eyes at the endless use of Star Wars' quotes.

“Hum that’s my sister, remember?” Six growled tightening the wheel

“Luke grab Solo, meet up in 15minutes at the hotel. Everyone move!” One instructed you smiled at the thought of being Leïa. Gosh, you were as much of a nerd as One.

Climbing down the jeep Three had rented, you laughed seeing your brother holding Four in an arm lock for a few seconds anyway, Four reversed the lock, pining your brother’s arms behind himself.

You passed by them “Easy with my twin please.” Four wasn’t releasing his hold so you stopped, turning back you lift an eyebrow at Four insisting he let him go.

“Oh!” he lifted his hands in defence taking a step back.

Grabbing your brother by the sleeves as he was about to jump on Four “Come on piccino” you made your way in the hotel laughing.

_ 

Your first big mission started a few weeks after, everyone gathered in The Haunted House as One called it, an old bunker, cheesy name for an HQ.

“You don’t get it, I need a CAR!”

“That’s a car, Six.” Three argued back.

“No that’s a heap, that thing won’t get us through the paved road of Italy, believe me.”

Four and Five were amused by the situation, Three had rent a truck and an old Volvo for this mission.

“Alright, shut up, we’ll get another car!” One declared, Six flicked to Three.

One resumed the mission’s details. Giving everyone their own missions. A simple mission, retrieve a lawyer’s smartphone.

In the midst of it, your hand flew to your brother’s head next to you. The smacked resonating between the walls of the unfinished bunker.

“Why ..why’d you hit him?” One asked confused, your brother was rubbing the back of his head frowning at you.

“Cain’s instinct.” You replied wriggling your fingers for him to continue. Four snorted, Six nudged him in the ribs.

In a few months, you had learned a lot from this weird squad. Learning to shoot was an obligation, Three was insane but a good teacher.

You’d asked Four to teach you some parkour in case of a chase. Six and Four became close friends in a matter of time. Five was nice, but you were never one to be good at making friends. Two was not a big talker and frankly, she scared you a little.

So you spend your free time hacking and reading, on the hammock installed between a dismantle plane and a dead tree. Not far from there you could hear Four skating in the empty pool and three at the makeshift shooting range.

Suddenly,

“EIGHT!”

Groaning you closed your book “WHAT!?

Your voice boomed against the caravan and lost itself in the desert, but you still hoped Four had heard. It was his thing, screaming your name instead of coming to you directly. At his silence, you wriggle out the hammock and strode to the pool.

“What’d you want skater boy?”

He was lying in the pool his board by his side. “Four?” you made your way to the ladder, “hey” you gently nudge him with your foot but he didn’t move.

“Four? you called out worried, “shit” knees hitting the vinyl liner checking if he was breathing, he wasn’t.

“Hey wake up, seriously dude don’t make me do CPR on you, I suck at it!” suddenly laughter erupted in your ears. Six appearing on the edge, Four chucked on the floor.

“Pranking you..he tried to breathe in, is always the best sis!” Six laughed even harder at your confused face. Still kneeling at Four’s side, he was looking at you laughing, until he wasn’t, catching a glimpse of worry melting with anger in your eyes.

Punching his left shoulder, you hurried out the pool. He stayed on the floor watching you go.

“Don’t make me do CPR I suck at it!” your brother was still laughing his brain's out.

_

“What was that?”

Four leaned on the dead tree near your head, his shadow offering some shade.

“A real bad joke?”

“No I mean, why’d you hit me?”

Sighing you clasped your book closed for the second time today “you really got me worried, happy?”

“No, you propped up on your elbow at his answer craning your head to him, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His warm hand slide in your hair at the base of your neck, he leaned in, letting you enough time to push him away if you wanted.

"Sorry" he whispered, his lips pressing in your temple gently, warmly for a few seconds. Catching yourself leaning in you almost fell off the swinging' hammock as he released his hold, he grinned and left not saying anything more.

"What the hell Four!!" you yelled at him, an ounce of laughter in your voice, a blush creeping into your cheeks, his own laughter filling the desert's silence.

FLORENCE

A/N: don't forget to double tap if you liked it. 🙏

[puckyess]

I Hope | Roman Ahcan

Based on the song I Hope // Gabby Barret. I hope you like it!

*** FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED ***

Words: 4.6k

“I hope you both feel the sparks by the end of the drive I hope you know she's the one by the end of the night I hope you never ever felt more free Tell your friends that you're so happy I hope she comes along and wrecks every one of your plans I hope you spend your last dime to put a rock on her hand I hope she's wilder than your wildest dreams She's everything you're ever gonna need And then I hope she cheats Like you did on me”

One year ago

Your world had been shattered in the matter of 30 seconds and one message. Your boyfriend, well soon to be ex, was lip locked with a girl who was not his girlfriend, a girl who was not you. And you had the evidence in the form of a very high quality picture sitting in your hands. Just like that, your sanity was gone and insecurity took its place.

You manically paced the floor of your apartment, hysterical little laughs exploding from you every time you thought about the man who you had thought was your future. It was like you couldn’t even process the information right in front of your eyes. The person in that picture, with his hands on her waist was not your boyfriend. Your boyfriend would never do that to you. And yet the picture said otherwise, with his hat on backwards, the ends of his hair curling up just so- the way you liked, the gleam of his silver chain visible as it peaked out from his white shirt that you had bought him, and the corner of his mouth turned up through the kiss in his signature smirk. You knew exactly how his lips would feel in that moment, if it had been you in that picture. But it wasn’t.

The phrase that echoed through your head is what had you almost on your knees, begging for this to be some cruel joke. It bounced around in your head, traveled through your body, sank into your bones, and broke your heart. Your boyfriend just cheated on you. Your boyfriend was is cheating on you. Your boyfriend had been cheating on you. The tears still didn’t come, they prickled the back of your eyes but you couldn’t manage to force them to spill out. You couldn't even get your body to function properly right now. Your mind had other things to worry about besides silly things like tears. Tears wouldn’t undo the pain that he had just inflicted.

You thought about every moment that had transpired between the two of you over the past - what you had thought was a glorious year and a half- and questioned which of those he had pictured with her instead. Every morning you had woken up beside him, a small smile on his still sleeping lips, was he dreaming of her? Every time his eyes slipped closed when your fingers tangled in his hair, was he thinking of her hands? Every time he had stormed out of your place after a fight, had he gone to her place instead? Every little hideaway he had shown you, had he shown her too? What about the parts of him that you thought he had shared with only you? Did she know Roman the same way you thought you had. You had given yourself to him in more ways than one and as it turns out he had given himself to more than just you. The realization is enough to make you fall to the floor, skipping the tears altogether and instead indulging in ugly, body wrenching sobs.

This is how he finds you hours later, collapsed on the floor. He’s instantly worried, moving to check on you. “Y/N, Baby are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me sweetie” he coos as he goes to pick you up off the floor. But he freezes just as quickly as he had started toward you when he sees the picture displayed on your phone on the floor. 

At some point during the night, your body and mind had gone numb. So much so, that it was scaring you. You had never felt this empty. You needed to feel something, even if it was pain and the picture did the trick. So you had found the message Owen had sent you and tortured yourself to remind yourself that the boy who was coming home to you tonight, didn’t always come home to just you. He did not belong in your life. It was effective enough, keeping you anchored on the floor in the middle of the living room long enough for him to see some of the damage he had caused.

“Y/N...I - I can explain” he tries, swallowing hard.

You move yourself to a seated position, the best you can manage at this point, as you decide which question you want to hurl at him first. Even though you want to ask “do you love me?” The answer is clear as day with what he has done. Actions speak louder than words, right?

So you settle on, “Was this the first time?”. And even this one, you think you know the answer to as well. But you give him the benefit of the doubt and ask anyway.

You can see the wheels turning in his head, the beautiful Madison lights casting his face in a glow that hours ago you would’ve made him stand frozen in place to capture on camera.

Now however, you wanted nothing more than to escape the moment. “Now, Roman. I’m not asking again”, you bark at him.

He flinches and the small action hurts your heart still even though he had already destroyed it. You never raised your voice at him.

“No”, he decides he should be honest, for the first time in a while.

You nod, accepting the dagger to your heart. “How long?”

He grimaces at your question. “How long have you been with her?” You repeat.

He tries to dance around the question, “I’m sorry, Y/N, I know I fucked up, but we haven’t really been the same for a while now..”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Roman. How long? You can’t possibly be worried about hurting my feelings at this point so just spit it out”.

He hates that you’re right. Why wasn’t he just telling it to you straight? He’d already hurt you and he knew that, but doing things behind your back, especially when he swore each time was the last, was different from hurting you when he was standing right in front of you and could see the pain in your eyes and hear it in your voice.

“Four months” he finally tells you.

You let out a bitter laugh as you think back to your life four months ago and it registers which night it probably was. “Oh you mean the night we went to that women’s soccer party and had that huge blowout because I didn’t like how you were flirting with every girl there, including Owen’s girlfriend by the way, and you flipped out on me and called me insecure, swearing you were ‘just friends’ with those girls and ‘would never do that to me’ and ‘how dare I question your loyalty’?”

He hangs his head, having completely forgotten about the fight you two had gotten into that night, screaming at each other in the street. It was your first big fight. You had cried half the night in your room, not letting him in. He had sat on the couch listening to your quiet sobs for a while, but instead of waiting to comfort and reassure you, he had left and gone back to the party.

“I went back” he admits.

“And then you still had the balls to meet me for brunch and let me apologize all over myself the very next morning, classy Roman. What, did you come straight from her place?”

The way he won’t meet your gaze still tells you everything you need to know and you couldn’t have felt more like a fool.

You’re angry now though as you push yourself up from the floor. Out of instinct Roman moves to help you stand. The look you give him though makes him recoil and snatch his hand back. You park yourself in a chair and gesture for him to do the same. He’s confused at your shift in mood but does as he’s told and takes a seat on the couch.

“So what’s her name?”

He's still confused but answers your question anyway, a simple one thank god.

“What’s she like? What drew you to her? What makes her special?” You gush, leaning forward with your legs crossed an arm propping up your head.

“Come on, Y/N…” he says, not really knowing what else to say. Did you really want to know?

“Nope, you don’t make the rules anymore. You gave that up four months ago. I want to know what it is about her that’s better than me”, you push. And you really do. What does this girl have that you don’t.

And so you sit and listen to your boyfriend tell you all about the girl he’s been seeing since four months ago. You listen good and hard, letting every word cut you deep. They both felt the sparks, she came right up to him and made her intentions known, apparently while you were helping his teammate clean up after wiping out on the stairs. She was confident. She had a reputation, but he saw past it. He always did see the good in everyone, you say to yourself shaking your head. She had a past and apparently he was her future just as he had been yours. Once your ears were so full of her and he was taking it almost too far, telling you about how he knew she was the one by the end of the night, you switched gears yet again, needing to feel something other than pathetic.

“So you obviously fucked her I'm assuming?” You question him with an eyebrow raised.

He shifts in his seat. The blunt question a complete contrast to the sweet nothings you had previously asked about.

“I..-Er. Uhhh.” Hes stumbling over his words, flustered.

“Well if you’ve been seeing her for four months, you have to be fucking right? It’s not like you to keep it in your pants that long, is it? Hell, you had me bent over for you the first night we met”. Referencing his past was a low blow and you could see that at the hurt that flashes across his face, but none of it was a lie and at this point he deserved it. He’d played right into his own reputation, after all.

“That’s not fair, Y/N. But to answer your question, if you must know, then yes, I am fucking her” he says and there’s bite to his words.

You snort in response, “Not fair? Not fair is thinking the man you’ve given heart to would respect it and love it back and then getting completely fucked over and him acting like everything is fine for four months. That’s not fair, but nice try, it was cute”

It was like he completely forgot that he was the one on trial here, that he was the one who royally fucked you over and he had the audacity to play victim and claim your comment was “unfair”.

“So how good is she in bed? On a scale of 1-10? Does she make you see stars every time you cum? Does she make you say her name like a prayer and make you beg for it to the point where it’s the only words you know?” You push forward, wanting to make him squirm.

You were making him uncomfortable, this much was clear as the heat rose to his cheeks and he changes positions on the coach three times before swallowing hard and speaking. “Why are you doing this? Why do you want to know this stuff?” He pleads.

Refusing to back down, you ignore his question. “Oh come on, baby. I know you love to talk dirty. What’s the problem now?” You say in a patronizing voice.

He still gives you an unsure look. “It’s just. I don’t know, doesn’t it bother you? I don’t know what difference it makes”.

You laugh then, both at his choice of words, and at his sudden consideration of your feelings. “Bother” is used for something small like a fly, not hearing the sex details of your boyfriend’s mistress and he had already cheated and lied for four months, it was a little late for your feelings.

“If you’re ‘’man’ enough to cheat on me and fuck some other girl then you can be ‘man’ enough to sit across from me and spill every juicy detail” you spit at him.

He doesn’t even know why he questions you, he should be doing everything you ask and groveling at your feet right now. Actually he does know, he still cares about you even though he hasn’t shown it. He doesn’t want to watch as his words rip you apart piece by piece. He doesn’t want to watch as you fall apart in front of him or hear the way you wail his name and then tell him to keep going. He hates the way you’re wiping at your tears with your own hands and even more, that he’s the one causing them. He can’t hold you or comfort you, he can only keep killing you with his words. He swears you’re going to kill him yourself, as eventually white hot anger takes over your features. You swear at him and yell, but it’s nothing compared to the look that follows it. It absolutely terrifies him when there’s no expression on your face at all. No pain, no sadness, no anger, no emotion whatsoever. That’s when he knows he’s lost you and for good. You stare right past him and say “We’re done here. I think you should go”.

There’s no look of recognition for the boy in front of you as you walk him to the door, as you really don’t know who he is anymore. And there’s no sentiment in your voice as you tell him “I hope she cheats like you did on me”, shutting the door on him.

—

Present

It was 2 am on a Friday, technically Saturday, when you thought you’d heard a knock on your door. Your sleep schedule was messed up and you were still awake watching reruns of Friends. Whoever it was knocked again but you weren’t expecting any visitors, especially at this hour so you grab the hockey stick from under your bed and slowly creep toward the door. The person was now banging repeatedly and your heart matched every thump. You cursed yourself for not taking your dad up on his offer to install a peep hole last week, swearing you could do it yourself and then not having had time to do it yet. It really would’ve come in handy right now. There’s a pause in the knocking and so holding your breath you swing open the door, stick in hand.

Standing on the other side is someone you haven’t seen in over a year, but he still takes your breath away like the very first time. “Roman”, you breathe out. At hearing his name, he turns your way, a nervous hand rubbing at the back of his neck, a habit he never could shake. 

You take a moment to take each other in, the subtle differences that happen from a year’s time. He looks tired, there’s bags under his eyes, but good all the same. His hair is a bit longer and he’s started growing light facial hair along his jawline. His shoulders are somehow broader. You’d bet his thighs were thicker too, you couldn’t tell for sure, but he seemed to fill out the grey sweats he was wearing more than you last remembered. You bit your lip as those were some of your favorites and you had told him so many times when you were together. His skin still held some of that summer tan and in an instant, all the feelings you had for him were flooding back.

He took in your appearance as well. He didn’t even question the hockey stick in your hand, he was too focused on the rest of you. Even in just a big T-shirt, you still took his breath away. It wasn't his, but it was one of the newer hockey ones the team had just gotten and he wondered who had given theirs to you. He made a mental note to question it at practice that week. He had fucked up over a year ago, he knew that now. Your hair was lighter and the spatter of freckles across your cheeks and nose was a little more filled in now. Your bare legs looked more toned. He couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel wrapped around his waist. 

Watching his stare travel down your body you suddenly felt self conscious, having not had him look at you like that in so long. You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped back up to your puzzled face. “What’re you doing here Roman?”

“I know I’m probably the last person you expected to see, Y/N”, you nodded in confirmation “and probably the last person you wanted to see”, he says with a sheepish smile.

You shrug, “I hadn’t really been expecting to see anyone at all. It’s like 2 in the morning?”

He nods, knowing it’s absurd that he’s here. “I have no right to ask this of you, but can I come in?”

You blink in surprise at his request, heavily weighing what letting him in will lead to in the long run vs closing the door in his face. He’s subtly trying to peer around you, praying that he’s not interrupting something and you don’t already have company.

Following your still bruised heart and not your head, you step aside and let him into your apartment. Even though it’s been so long, he doesn’t look one bit out of place in your space.

Just as he took in the slight changes in your appearance, he took in the slight adjustments you had made to your apartment. You had rearranged the furniture, even getting a new couch. Gone was the one where he had ripped your heart out over a year ago and in its place, a new black sectional. Good riddance he thought. You had changed the canvases that were on the wall, but left the Wisco tapestry that was the background of so many of his pictures. The counters were clean and the place itself looked less cluttered without all of his hockey stuff laying all over the place. There was a still a Badgers hoodie thrown over the chair in the corner, one that he could’ve sworn Lindy had been asking about at practice the other day and he spied Lex’s ugly hot pink charger plugged in over by the couch, a pair of Cole’s Jack Hughes slides by the door. He was glad the boys hadn’t abandoned you when he did.

You had put away the pictures of the two of you that used to sit on the side table and scatter the fridge, but you had left a singular picture up of you and him with some of the team from your first Fourth of July together. His arm was around your waist, pulling you into his side. The boys’ arms were thrown around your shoulders. Your head was thrown back with laughter and there was a beaming smile plastered on his face that never seemed to leave when he was around you. He almost got choked up staring at the picture. He just wished he could go back in time.

“I couldn’t bring myself to take that one down.” You spoke up from behind him. “I know we ended on bad terms, but we had some damn good times”. There was sadness in your voice, but a hint of something else too. Maybe forgiveness? Acceptance?

Putting the picture back, he agrees with you. “We did, didn’t we? That’s kind of the reason I’m here”.

You suck in a breath. “Roman I’ve worked hard to put all that behind me. I really don’t want to dredge it back up again. Especially after so long…” you were over the situation. It still hurt like hell and he had broken you beyond what you had thought you could repair, but you had picked yourself up and were stronger now than ever. That night wasn’t something you thought about much at all anymore, but you knew he could change that in an instant.

“No, no, no! That’s not what I’m here for at all, not really anyways”, he says quickly.

“Then what are you here for?” You ask, nervously chewing on your lip.

He looks around like he doesn’t really want to get to the point. You surprise yourself and pat the spot next to you on the couch. He gives you the same look you inwardly give yourself, but can’t fight it as his body leads him to you. He’s careful not to sit too close but he’s still close enough to make your heart race.

“Do you remember what your last words to me were?” He asks.

Of course you remembered. They chorused through your head for the weeks to come. They were harsh, but you’d meant them.

“I hope she cheats like you did on me”.

“Is it ok for me to talk about her with you? We’re over if that makes you feel better about it” he asks.

Were you ready to hear whatever it is he was about to tell you? You’d never know if you didn’t let him continue. You did note, too that he was no longer with her.

“You’re already here on my couch, Ro. Might as well get out whatever it is you came here to say”.

His heart flutters at your use of his nickname. He had refused to let any of the guys call him that because it reminded him of you. He hadn’t heard it in so long, it felt so good he almost forgot what he was here to do. 

“I don’t even know where to start. I guess maybe with that I really thought she was it, I didn’t leave you for some fling I really thought I was in love..she was...she was wilder than my wildest dreams. I felt everything you’re supposed to feel, the sparks, that happy, free feeling. & I’m so sorry if any of this hurts you to hear, just tell me to stop ok?” He asked softly.

You nodded, you’d already told yourself every hurtful thing in the book, hearing it from him shouldn’t be much different. You urged him on. “I was in so deep with her, I didn’t know up from down, wrong from right. I’d call her in the middle of the highway drive home from roadies with a huge smile on my face and in a blur I’d be home, time just wasn’t a thing when I talked to her, I’d hear a song and start singing along thinking about her. I’d tell all the guys I was so happy. I think they could kind of see through the whole thing though”.

You raised your eyebrows at that and he looked over at you. “They’re big fans of yours, you know. They had their suspicions about this girl from the getgo. They knew it wasn’t real like it was with you. They could see it wouldn’t last like I thought it would. Hell, I thought she was everything I was ever gonna need. She wrecked every single one of my plans. My plans for my future, I was ready to call it quits on hockey after this year and move out to Texas with her. Wrecked my plans with you, in every way...I am so sorry”.

You and Roman used to stay up all night talking about those plans. Hearing him mention them again, even in this context had you wishing that they were all still a possibility, the little lake house in Minnesota and mini Romans running around while he lived out his hockey dream. You would’ve done anything to give that life to him.

He pulls you from your thoughts when he continues, “ I thought I had it all figured out. I had even bookmarked the ring she kept showing me, even though it would’ve cost me my last dime”.

Your heart breaks as he says this, knowing how he felt about marriage. He didn’t really care about the ceremony, he’d get married in a courthouse or at Vegas for all he cared. He only wanted you by his side, well at the time anyway. To know that he had gotten that far with her, brought up every feeling from that night and you knew that this was a very bad idea to have him here, in your place, on your couch so close to you. You began to pull away from him, but he didn’t notice. His head was leaned against the top of the couch, his eyes trained on the ceiling.

“And then at 2 am I’m flipping through snap and I get one from her friend. She’s hanging all over some guy. I’m obviously pissed but I couldn’t get mad at her for just having her arms around him right? But then the next one is her with her tongue down his throat.”

You’re silent next to him, tracing patterns on the blanket on your lap, knowing the situation all too well. He wants to reach over and touch you but he resists, needing to finish his story first.

“I stayed up all night, waiting for her to come home. I was literally pacing by the door for hours. She never did come home though. I suppose you can guess where she was and what she was doing. She didn’t even bother to call until the next day, I’d had my phone in my hand the whole night thinking she’d call. I’d never felt more pathetic. Not even after that 9-1 loss last season,” he tries to joke, but you can tell he’s serious.

“That was a pretty bad game…” you acknowledged, giving him a small smile.

He chuckles at your efforts and he’s hit once again with how much he’s missed you.

The way he’s looking at you is one you’ve seen many times before. It’s a look that tells you he’s about to do something you don’t know that you’re ready for, even if you want to be, so you try to keep him on track. “So what did she say when she finally called?”

He’s broken from his trance and clears his throat, letting his head roll back to face the ceiling again. “That she was wasted and had no idea what she was doing. Didn’t even remember it apparently.”

Your brows furrowed together as you tried to follow what he was saying. “But how did she know to call you about it then?”

“Exactly. I hadn’t even left any voicemails or messages or anything. I hadn’t known what to say at the time. I didn’t want it to be over yet you know?”

And you did know. You and Roman were supposed to last forever and you were prepared for that, you wanted that. You were more prepared for forever than you were for having your time with him cut short.

“So I told her it was okay. That I forgave her and maybe it was my fault too. I should’ve gone out with her that night like she had wanted. We agreed that we needed to start new again, so I took her out on another first date and when we kissed, sparks flew all over again. I was just as deep, thinking she was still the one by the end of the night. And then she cheated three weeks later again. Apparently it had been everytime I left town, for months. I felt like such an idiot. I questioned every interaction we’d ever had. She fucked with my head”.

She had made him feel the same way about her that you had felt about him, that you feel about him and then she’d made him feel exactly how he’d made you feel when he cheated on you. You had been listening intently, but your eyes were trained on your hand that was still tracing patterns on the blanket on your lap. Your tracing is paused however when he grabs your hand in his and uses his finger to tip your chin up to look in his eyes. It’s the first time he’s touched you all night and you’d be lying if it didn’t ignite a fire inside of you and put butterflies in your stomach.

“I am so beyond sorry for what I did to you and for what I put you through. I’ll never forgive myself for throwing away what we had and lying about it time after time. I don’t deserve forgiveness for that, especially from you. I’m sorry that it took her cheating on me to understand the level of hurt that I had caused you. I betrayed you in the worst way, in every way really. You didn’t deserve that and I’m so so sorry for hurting you”. The playful smirk that normally finds itself present on his face is nowhere to be seen as his eyes bore into your soul and his voice sends shivers down your spine with how much conviction is behind the words he just spoke.

“I wanted her to wreck you”, you honestly tell him, your voice practically a whisper. Anything louder and he might’ve picked up on the way your voice broke at the end. With one visit he had practically undone a years worth of work. You wanted him, and you wanted him bad. You could forgive him, you already had, but you could never trust him the same.

Unlike the last time he had seen you, when you stared right through him; this time your face was full of so many emotions. It was so close to his. It would take him a handful of inches to close the distance between your lips and his. It was hard for him to think straight.

“I know babygirl, and I deserved it. I really did. I didn’t come here tonight to try and ruin the life you’ve built for yourself without me in it. I won’t try to earn your love back if you don’t want me to, I know I owe you that much at least. I just came to tell you how sorry I was for putting you through all that I did. I understand that now. But hey, you got what you wanted”, he says with a sad smile.

And there it was. That damn nickname that had your resolve melting on the spot. He had good intentions, coming here and you did still feel for him, your heart hurt at the hurt he had gone through, but he never would’ve had to experience that had he not cheated. As much as you wanted him back, you couldn’t go through that again.

“I forgive you, Ro, I really do. It’s the forgetting that’s the hard part. I can forgive, but I can’t forget”.

[grimmjagger]

Hello and welcome to Tumblr! I'm glad to see another Bleach blog. :) May I request a scenario in which Grimmjow falling for a shinigami girl who was taken prisoner in Hueco Mundo? Maybe she helps him during the time after his arm is cut off and also helps heal him after his final battle with Ichigo. Sorry if this is weird or too specific! Also, good luck with this blog !!!

Not weird or specific at all! We love Grimmjow requests in this household.

Also just a heads up, I’m rewatching Bleach right now and it’s been awhile since I’ve seen the show so if I get anything factually incorrect please let me know!

Also I have NO idea why the spacing is so weird in this scenario. Tumblr is strange, sigh.

★彡

Grimmjow lost. He lost, all because of that damn Nnoitra. The thought of it boiled his blood; he wanted nothing more than to go after the bastard and kill him for taking such a cheap shot at him like that. He couldn’t move, though. It was over, and he was sure he was going to die where he lay. The coarse grains of sand chafed his bruised and battered cheek, embedding themselves into the various open wounds on his body, grating into him like sandpaper, blood pooling from his body onto the white sands around him. He really lost. Unable to even ball a fist or groan without feeling as if shards of glass were etching themselves into his deep wounds, all Grimmjow could do was wait. Wait for death, he assumed. ‘Damnit,’ he thought. ‘So this is how I die.’ He was confident he could have taken Nnoitra if it hadn’t been for the element of surprise, but none of that mattered now. He tried to scoff, but his lungs felt raw and weak, the strength leaving his body along with the steady flow of blood. ‘Damnit.’

“Grimmjow!”

The voice was distant, so faint that he thought maybe he imagined it. However the voice rang out again, this time closer and accompanied with the sound of footsteps sliding through the glistening sands. “Grimmjow!” That voice, it sounded familiar. At this point his pesky thoughts were growing hazy. Grimmjow couldn’t quite point the voice out.

“Grimmjow?!” Delicate hands grabbed his rugged shoulders and pushed him over onto his back, a shaky hiss of pain croaking through Grimmjow’s chapped, sandy lips. He could make out a figure, although it was blurry. A woman for sure, by the sound of her voice. He blinked once, twice. She was speaking hastily but he couldn’t make out the words that she was frantically saying. He blinked again, three times in rapid succession this time. Just barely he could make out the color of her soft strands of hair, the worry etched into the middle of her eyebrows, her big, doe-like eyes that looked panicked. Ah, it was that Shinigami. ‘What a weird woman,’ Grimmjow thought, to be looking so distressed over him, one of her captives. He couldn’t understand it. It didn’t matter, though, as the edges of his vision began to fade to black. This was it, the end of the King, fallen so ungracefully from his throne, weak and pathetic in a pool of his own blood. His last thoughts cursed that damn Nnoitra, as well as the strange Shinigami girl who was still frantically speaking as if he could even respond to her if he wanted to. ‘Damn them all.’

๑๑๑

The waiting was torture. No matter how hard you tried to take your mind off of things, off of him, you always found yourself right back at his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. The vibrant, electric blue hair was stark in comparison to the white walls, floors, and bed in which he lay. His face was scarred and bruised, and even while unconscious held a distinctive, angry scowl on it. You weren’t completely sure why you cared so much about whether the man lived or died. When you had escaped the fortress of Las Noches amidst all the chaos caused by your Shinigami friends you had expected to be free, to reunite with everyone and return to Soul Society. However, to escape and see that same vibrant, electric blue head of hair, surrounded by crimson staining the pearly sands around him, you had found yourself unable to walk away. Perhaps you would have been back home by now if you had left him there to die, but you couldn’t. Every string in your body pulled you right towards the violent man, knowing that you had to help him. And so you did. Now, once again, you were confined to the bleak walls within the citadel known as Las Noches, waiting to see if the man would awaken.

Gripping the edge of his bedsheets, you leaned over the unconscious man and watched his steady breathing. A small, tentative hand reached out to brush a piece of hair away from his forehead. You paused, waiting for a reaction. Nothing. With a sigh you settled back into the chair in which you sat, creaking beneath your shift in weight, crossing your legs in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable. “Please,” you mumbled, unsure of whether you were talking more to yourself or the man which lay in front of you. “Wake up already.” Pause. Nothing. You sighed again. Just as you began to stand from your chair to find something within the walls of your captivity to free your mind from worry, even for just a moment, before inevitably returning to sit and wait by Grimmjow’s side once again, a hand jolted out and grabbed you by the wrist. The suddenness caused you to jump, the grip on your wrist weak in strength, calluses rubbing against the softness of your own skin.

Grimmjow groaned, his hand falling from your wrist. You choked out a gasp and suppressed the urge to shake him by his shoulders and berate him with questions. Instead, you opted for a simple, “How are you feeling?”

Grimmjow grunted as he tried to sit up, with you quickly attempting to help him, much to the man’s irritation. Unfortunately he was still too weak to pull away from you. “Like shit,” his voice cracked, dry and scratchy from his long sleep. It had been three days since his battle with Ichigo. Three days since his loss. The thought made him ball his hands into fists and grimace at the bed sheets. “I’m going to kill that bastard.” You grabbed the glass of water sitting on a nearby table and handed it to the clearly quenched male, Grimmjow snatching the glass from your hand contentiously and chugging the water, droplets dripping down his chin. Not that he cared. You almost snorted, but refrained, knowing that would probably only further upset him.

You waited for a moment for Grimmjow to get his fill of water before tentatively saying, “I’m glad you’re okay. I thought you were dead when I first saw you.” Shifting slightly in your seat, somewhat embarrassed by yourself, you avoided the side-eye contact that Grimmjow was sending your way. Why did a Shinigami care if an Arrancar lived or died? You weren’t so sure of that answer yourself, but over the couple of weeks that you had been imprisoned in Las Noches you had found yourself intrigued by the bluenette, and you figured he must have felt somewhat the same as he hadn’t killed you—or tried to—yet. In fact, he had even saved your ass once from an enraged Yammy, something that he had no obligation to do. You weren’t sure if he had done it for you or if he had just wanted to pick a fight with the tenth Espada, but nonetheless you felt like you owed him for that. Fidgeting with your fingers in your lap, still avoiding those cerulean eyes boring straight through you, you stood from your chair and sighed. “Well then, now that you’re awake-“

“Don’t expect me to thank you,” he snapped, looking away to glower at the wall. You knew better than to think that he was mad at you in regards to his gruff behavior, rather that he was still bitter over his loss. Knowing better than to push it any further, you flashed him a small smile, one that he didn’t return.

“Well, now we’re even then, alright?” Turning to make your leave, you gave a little wave over your shoulder. “You should rest now. I’ll be around.”

Grimmjow huffed. Weird ass Shinigami. He wouldn’t admit it, but maybe she wasn’t too bad. Maybe.

๑๑๑

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” you warned, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference to the Arrancar. Grimmjow stretched and rolled his shoulders, muscles stiff and bones cracking after spending the last several days confined to a bed, finally standing on his own two feet for the first time since his defeat. If it hadn’t been for the nagging Shinigami he would’ve been out of there way sooner. “Shut it,” he snapped, although it didn’t phase you in the slightest by now, far too used to his attitude at this point. “Don’t treat me like I’m some wounded kitten.” You could have made a retort at that comment, being that he very much was like wounded kitten, but you figured that might end in your death, surely.

“Just trying to help.” You sighed. He truly wasn’t lying when he said not to expect a thank you.

“I don’t need your help. I’m going to kill that damn Nnoitra, then Ichigo next.”

Your eyebrows raised, “Huh? Nnoitra is dead, Grimmjow.” He whipped around at your revelation, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. “He was defeated by a Shinigami captain.” An eerie silence rang out throughout all of Hueco Mundo, a silence that indicated a halt in battle. That is, for the time being, at least. The silence scratched at Grimmjow, a strange feeling for sure. The lack of fighting only indicated a moment of rest before the real war began. It was only a matter of time. Grimmjow itched to be back out there, to fight the substitute Shinigami named Kurosaki Ichigo. Soon, he promised himself. Soon.

A frown etched itself onto your features. It wasn’t hard to tell that Grimmjow was thirsting to fight this war, however you knew if he fought so soon after his near death that he would surely die this time. “Maybe...” you teetered, shifting your weight onto your other leg and peeking at Grimmjow to gauge his reaction. “You should sit this battle out. If you fight so soon, you’ll surely die.” A low growl echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the blank walls and reverberating through your body. He sounded like a beast. Although, that’s what an Arrancar was, right? Somehow you began to have your doubts. Could a Shinigami really, in good faith, help out an Arrancar? The enemy? You were sure if Soul Society ever found out what you had done that you would be locked away in the Repentance Cell for your crimes. For some reason, the thought didn’t bother you, though, at least not enough. A glare bore through your skull, a thoughtful glare. You could tell that he knew you were right. Seeing as he hadn’t killed you for your comment, you ventured further, “I can help you. At least until this battle with Aizen is over.“

Grimmjow seemed to seriously be considering the suggestion, or at least not outright refusing. He knew that if he died carelessly while not at his full strength yet, he would never have the chance to defeat Kurosaki. And anyway, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to have the cute Shinigami in front of him hang around for a little while longer. Not that he would be admitting to that. Yet. “Tch.” He gave the back of his neck a scratch, looking away from the eager eyes watching him for an answer. Grimmjow was stubborn, though. “I don’t need anybody’s damn help.”

You frowned. “Sure looked like you needed my help when you were dying in the sands of Hueco Mundo.” Now you were getting a little brave, but hey, he hadn’t killed you yet. There must have been a reason for that. Grimmjow looked as if he was about to retort back but instead clamped his mouth shut, jaw tight and eyebrows knitted. You got him with that one. “Sounds to me like you’re just looking for excuses to hang around me a little longer,” he tantalized with a smirk, the small blush dusting your cheeks not going unrecognized by the man before you.

“Maybe I am.”

Well, that caught Grimmjow off guard. The semi-surprised look on his face made you snicker. Weird ass Shinigami, for sure. “Do whatever the hell you want,” he replied, cocking his head to the side, eyes regarding you like a wild animal observing his prey. He stuffed his fists into the pockets of his uniform, that signature, cocky grin returning once again. “If you wanna follow me, I’m not gonna stop you. Just don’t get in my way.” The Arrancar made long strides past you and through the bedroom doorway, making his way down the hallways of Las Noches. He was leaving. You watched his retreating figure for a moment before jogging to catch up with him.

“Well, where are we going?”

He glanced back at you, his expression one of boredom, but you could see the glint of titillation in his eyes. The ‘we’ didn’t go unnoticed. “Anywhere but here.” So it was as you thought, he wasn’t that loyal to Aizen. You had to walk at a brisk pace to keep up with Grimmjow’s long legs. Did you really want to turn your back on your Shinigami allies to help this man out? Even if you wanted to, should you? Your steps faltered before you stopped completely, watching Grimmjow continue to walk away, not even giving the slightest look back at you. If you wanted to follow him, good for you, if not, he wasn’t going to be bothered by it. As his figure continued to grow farther away, you wondered, ‘Is this really what I want?’ Your memories of Soul Society and your friends there floated through your mind. Memories of food and laughter and battle. Memories of home. A deep-gutted feeling of heaviness anchored itself to the bottom of your stomach. The steady beat of your heart thrummed in your ears. Was it worth it, leaving everything and everyone you’ve always known behind? For an Arrancar? Grimmjow finally gave a harsh sigh and stopped, turning around and giving you a rather impatient look. Of course he didn’t care if you were coming or not, so why was he waiting for you? “You coming or not?”

“Aw hell,” you mumbled, heart skipping a beat, maybe two. Yeah, you really wanted to follow that stubborn man, even if he ended up leading you to hell and back, you really did want to follow him. The heaviness and uncertainty deep in your gut evaporated in seconds with just one look from those beautiful, blue eyes. With a huff of resignation, you trotted to catch back up to the smug man, rolling your eyes at the cockiness emanating from him as he practically puffed his chest out. “Of course I am. Someone needs to keep you out of trouble.”

Maybe he wouldn’t mind having you by his side, Grimmjow thought. Maybe.