#why’s he like that. what’s with the pose. is he on drag race? just facing woes? I don’t know!

[vampsywrites]

balance of life

synopsis: "if you don't yield, we won't hesitate to kill the tsa-hik." as quadritch and his men launch a ruthless attack on your village, your life hangs in the balance.

pairings: olo'eyktan! aged up! neteyam x tsahik! fem! reader

tags: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND DEATH, mentions of guns, blood, gunshot wounds, violence, war, neteyam going feral, ambiguous ending hehe, mother neytiri suffering (again)

☄️part 2 💫

"Mawey! My people! Mawey!" Your anguished plea echoes through the air, tainted with a tremor of unbridled fear.

Gasping, you find yourself shoved to the ground as the weight of a marine's boot presses upon your back, mercilessly crushing you. A bone-chilling sensation courses through you as his rifle hilt presses against the side of your skull, the threat it posed abundantly clear.

The air fills with haunting screams, a cacophony of agony and desperation, as your people struggle frantically to break free from their restraints.

Quadritch chuckles, moving his gaze to the forest before him. "I know you're there, Sully. You and your little soldier boys."

Jake takes in the situation, clicking his tongue as he pressed his back further against the solid trunk of a tree.

Clutching his rifle tightly, he curses under his breath. The crackle of his communication device interrupts the tense silence as Neteyam's voice comes in.

"Sir? What's wrong? We have them outnumbered and surrounded…Why aren't we initiating an attack?"

Jake hesitates for a moment, a palpable fear gripping his heart as he struggles to find the right words. With a shaky hand, he presses a button on his neck, activating his device. His voice quivering as he delivers the news, "They've got Y/N at gunpoint."

Neteyam chokes, feeling the air get knocked out his lungs, his entire body tensing, muscles coiling like a tightly wound spring. From afar, Neytiri meets his gaze, and he can see the worry etched on her face as her hands shake immensely around her bow.

"Oh, my sweet girl," she rasps, watery eyes peeking at you from behind a tree.

Neteyam's teeth grind together, his jaw clenched so tightly that it might as well break. Swiftly, he pushes through the green foliage, moving closer and closer until you were in his sights. His heart plummets, and a nauseating feeling spreads through him as he catches sight of you.

Tears mar your dirt-streaked face, mingling with the soil as a soldier forcefully presses your face deeper into the ground. His heart shatters as he catches fragments of the frantic prayers that escape your trembling lips.

In the midst of the chaos, Quadritch's voice slithers through the air, its lethargic slur accompanied by a thick, heavily accented drawl. "Let me make something abundantly clear," he enunciates, his words laced with malice, "If you don't yield, we won't hesitate to kill the Tsa-hìk."

In an instant, Neteyam's snarl tears through the air, his fangs bared in a primal display as his instincts roar, urging him to protect you at any cost. The soldiers swiftly pinpoint his location, their weapons trained upon him.

Unwavering, Neteyam prepares to draw his bow, poised to take action. However, before he can make any moves, a hand firmly seizes his shoulder, dragging him into safety just as a barrage of bullets whiz through the air. He finds himself taking cover beneath a fallen log, with Lo'ak gripping onto him tightly.

"Bro," Lo'ak seethes through clenched teeth, arms wound tight around Neteyam in a chokehold as he struggles to hold the raging male down, "Listen to me! If you make any hasty moves, you'll only end up getting yourself killed."

Neteyam's muscles strain against Lo'ak's grip, his chest heaving with a mix of anguish and fury as his eyes dart to the direction where you're held captive. Eventually, Lo'ak's words begin to sink in, and he reluctantly relents, slowly easing his struggling.

Gritting his teeth, Neteyam focuses on the situation at hand, his mind scrambled and racing. The weight of his helplessness settles upon him, but a fiery resolve ignites within his core. He locks eyes with his brother, an unspoken understanding exchanging between them.

"Lo'ak," he growls, "I need you to cover my right flank."

.

A muffled sob bubbles up your throat as the sky demon circles you, his monstrous gaze drinking in the sight of your fear-stricken figure.

"That boy's takin' his sweet time, ain't he?" The colonel chuckles, his boot nudging against your cheek, forcefully lifting your face up. A low, contemptuous whistle resonates from deep within his chest as he scrutinizes your features with an unsettling gaze. "Well, well, ain't you somethin' to behold? No wonder he went ahead and crowned you queen."

The colonel's sadistic chortle then drops abruptly, his smug expression contorting into a frown as the forest echoes with a thunderous war cry.

A surge of adrenaline courses through your veins, compelling you to lift your head defiantly, your eyes locking onto a figure emerging from the shadows. "Ma Neteyam!"

Neteyam moves through swiftly, drawing his bow back and knocking an arrow dead set into a soldier's skull. The RDA, caught off guard, attempt to mount a defense. Their weapons swing and shoot haphazardly, their strikes frantic. Neteyam growls, easily avoiding their feeble attacks.

With a low hiss, he strikes, his blade digging deep into a marine's skin, leaving behind jagged, gaping wounds that mar their flesh. In a blood-soaked frenzy, his vision narrows, focusing only on his enemies, while the world around him blurs into a backdrop of carnage.

More warriors surge forward, joining the relentless attack. Arrows streak through the air, finding their targets with deadly precision, striking down the soldiers that had once surrounded you.

In almost no time, the weight pressing onto your back eases as the marine holding you hostage falls lifelessly to the ground.

Without a moment's hesitation, you propelled yourself onward, stumbling amidst the grim aftermath, desperately seeking sanctuary and cover from the chaos.

You were in such a state of blind panic that you failed to notice the piarcing gaze fixed on your back. Quadritch watched as you moved along the edge of the fields, a wry grin spreading over his lips, "Hey there, pretty bird."

In a single, fluid motion, he raises his weapon and mercilessly opens fire, his shots striking and finding their mark in your chest, sending a searing pain coursing through your body. You stagger back, a choked scream slipping from your lips as you feel your legs giving in.

"Y/N!" Neytiri's piercing shriek fills the air, her desperate cry reaching your ears as she swiftly drops down beside you, enfolding you in her protective embrace.

The crackle of gunfire intensifies, another relentless barrage of bullets tearing through the battlefield. With nimble agility, she hauls you into her arms, racing towards the nearest cover.

As her back finds respite against the rough bark of a tree, Neytiri's attention immediately turn to your injuries. Panicked, she assesses the extent of your wounds, her hands becoming stained with your blood as she applies pressure.

"My sweet girl," Neytiri's voice trembles in despair, her words saturated with raw emotion. Tears stream down her face, mingling with the dirt and blood that now stains her skin.

Sobbing, your body goes limp in her arms, sending the woman into a frenzy. Her voice rises in a haunting wail, a soul-piercing cry that reverberates through the battlefield.

"No. No. Great Mother! No!" she beseeches the divine with all her being, as if her fervent cries alone could alter the cruel course of your fate.

In that heart-wrenching moment, a figure drops down beside her, and Neytiri turns to see Neteyam, shrouded in blood as his usually steady temperment crumbled.

"Oh, Ma'Eywa, Great Mother, please no," he falls to his knees, his arms reaching out for you as he frantically takes you into his embrace. You whimper and stir, your head spinning as it falls onto his chest.

"Yawne? Hey, syulang. Hey, it's me," he cradles you closer, his lips gently pressing against your temple as you heave and shake in his embrace. "Shh, shh. I'm here now, right by your side. I'm here. I won't let you go."

"Ma'Teyam," you rasp, your eyes fluttering as the abyss of sleep beckons. "I…I am so tired."

With quivering lips and a voice choked with grief, he whispers your name, his voice a fragile plea."No, no, you have to stay awake, yawne. You have to stay with me," he presses in a hoarse whisper, his words trembling with a vulnerability you rarely see.

"Please," Neteyam's tears drip onto your pale face, fingers trembling as they brush against your blood-stained skin, gliding across your flesh with an almost desperate tenderness, as if his touch alone could heal the wounds that mar your body.

The battle rages on around you, the chaotic sounds of war blending into muffled ringing. In this moment, time stands still, and the world around you fades into shadows.

"'Teyam…" Gasping for breath, you feel a final heave escape your body before everything is consumed by a blinding light.

07/16/23 — I am writing a part 2 due to popular demand 🙈 I have a taglist ready as well! So feel free to comment if you would like to be added!

☄️part 2 💫

[taasgirl]

blue light - lando norris

summary: y/n is a professional footballer for arsenal, and takes a quick pitstop to the australian gp! her and lando end up taking a liking to each other, and reunite on a night out.

warnings: mentions of acl injury, nothing too bad

word count: 4.2k - sorry if there's any typos lol

I would be lying if I said that I knew how this worked. I also would be lying if I said that I found this enjoyable. I’ve spent too long concentrating on my career, that I never really cared to watch others; especially not Formula 1. But here I am.

The Australian Grand Prix, my ‘home tournament’ some would say. Growing up in Sydney, no one cared for motorsports - it was more about football, all variations of it.

I was sitting with the girls in one of the many stands. We had been followed around for majority of the day, there were a lot of people asking for photos. But honestly, I didn’t mind, in fact I really loved when I was recognised.

Steph attempted to explain how the races worked to me and the other girls, but we couldn’t get it.

The flag was waved and the race begun. There was a lot of commotion, everyone was buzzing to be watching a Grand Prix. “So what time will this finish?” I asked Steph, “Just watch it Y/N.” The other girls laughed at her focus on the track - the cars weren’t even there anymore.

After a few laps I started to get hungry. “I’m gonna grab food. Any of youse want any?” The girls shook their heads; they were as focused as Steph.

I walked through ‘The Paddock’. The passes we had allowed us to be there and I could tell that they were expensive. There were drivers left right and centre.

I made my way to a hot chips stand and ordered four portions. “A bit hungry yeah?” I turned around and was met with the face of a boy. Well maybe a man. He was fully decked out in the Mclaren gear. Either a driver or a huge fan.

“Nah for my friends.” He laughed and after ordering his food stood by me as we waited.

“I’m Oscar.” He lent his hand out, and I shook it in response, “Y/N.” He smiled at me “I know.”

“So what’s a footballer doing at the races huh?” He recognised me. “Honestly, I have no idea. My friends dragged me along.” He laughed. “Maybe my team can help you out.” He smirked at me. “And what team would that be?”

“Mclaren.”

“So some guy offers his exclusive lounge to you, and you believe him?” Katie was looking me up and down, very obviously unimpressed. “I think he’s a driver. Steffie is there someone from Mclaren called Oscar?” She looked at me immediately.

“You met Oscar Piastri?” I nodded. “And he invited you to the Mclaren lounge?” I nodded and then stopped, “Well all of us.”

We were all sat very lavishly at a bar. Oscar had met us outside the Mclaren suite and brought us inside.

“So if you’re a driver, why aren’t you out there?” I pointed to the TV that was following the cars. “I had a crash a few weeks ago, and I’m still not cleared to race yet.” I winced. The idea of crashing at the speeds that the men were going irked me. “It wasn’t anything bad. Just a concussion.”

“So who’s out there now?” Oscar smiled at me. “Lando. Lando Norris.” His smile was cheeky. “He’s gonna be buzzing when he sees you after the race.” I looked at him nonchalantly. “Honestly, he’s a huge Arsenal fan. You’re his favourite player too.” A smile creeped across my face. I was intrigued by this ‘Lando Norris’ person.

“Do you have a photo of him? I wanna know what he looks like.” Oscar scoffed. “Take a look around. His face is everywhere.”

Oscar wasn’t lying. There were posters everywhere of Lando Norris. Him celebrating, him posing, him and Oscar. He must be a big shot.

“Good looking guy right?” I laughed almost uncomfortably.

But I did find him attractive. In fact, as soon as Oscar had left us for his team, I was already searching up Lando on instagram.

By the time the races had finished, it was a bit past four. After getting the rundown from some of the Mclaren workers, I had kinda figured out what was happening.

Carlos Sainz won the race. Lando came third, and everyone was stoked. “But isn’t third just kinda bad?” Steph smacked Caitlin. “It’s different in racing now shut up.” The rest of us snickered. We had a perfect view of the podium, and all the guys on it.

“He’s cute.” Katie nudged me, earning an eye roll. “You should talk to him. I know you like your English.” Katie was one of my closest friends, she took me under her wing when I signed for arsenal, and for that I will always be indebted to her.

Once the boys had finished celebrating their win, we were brought back to the Mclaren suite.

“Stay here, I’ll bring Lando over.” Oscar held my shoulder before he went looking for the driver. As we were waiting, I was lightly tapped. Turning around, I can face to face with a journalist.

“Hi Y/N how are you?” She was beaming. “Would you mind doing a quick interview with us, it’ll only take a minute?” I smiled at her and agreed.

We were pulled into a less busy part of the room, and she handed over to me a microphone. The camera was directed at me, so I quickly touched up my hair.

“How are you enjoying the races, big fan?” I rubbed the back of my neck and responded.

“Yeah it’s been great. I don’t know too much about the whole motorsports scene but a few people from Mclaren have been helpful in explaining.”

The reporter flipped her paper.

“Speaking of Mclaren, do you have an affiliation with the team? You’ve been in the suite all day!”

“Honestly, I bumped into Oscar while getting chips and he invited us over.” She smiled, signalling for me to go on. “Everyone’s been super welcoming, especially to the dumb questions I’ve been asking.” The camera crew around us laughed.

Finishing up the interview, I made my way over to the girls. “Okay miss popular.” The girls laughed at Katie’s remark.

“Oh that Lando guy is looking for you by the way.” I looked straight at Steph. “Don’t look at me like that. He came around to us and left straight away when he realised you weren’t here.” I took a seat next to Caitlin.

“Y/N, come!” Oscar shouted from across the room. I could see his hand waving over to me, and so I got up.

“This is Lando.” Lando had an arm thrown around Oscar, very obviously tired. “Hey.” We reached our hands out and shook.

“Listen, I’m a huge fan of yours.” I smiled at him thankfully.

“Yeah he’s got about fifty jersey with your name on the back.” Oscar chimed, but was immediately shut down by a light kick to his shin, Lando’s doing. “Okay I’m not that weird.” We laughed together, until the silence turned awkward.

“I never picked you for a F1 enjoyer, who’d you support.” Oscar laughed, earning a concerned look on Lando’s face.

“Would it kill you if I said that I don’t watch it. Like at all?”

He clutched his heart sarcastically.

“I’m sorry! I’ve just never really been into it.” Oscar shook his head. “Ok ok, if it’s you two racing, then I’ll consider watching. It’s the least I can do for a fan.” Lando clutched his chest again.

“Gosh Y/N, you really know what to say to get a man’s heart pumping.” We laughed it off again.

“You should probably get back to your team. Celebrate the win?” It was less a statement than a question. “I’m just gonna shut up before I end up giving you a heart attack.”

He took his hand in mine, and pulled me in for a hug. “There’ll be a party later. You’re all invited to join if you’d like.” I nodded. “I’ll let them know.”

“So what’s the dress code?” Steph walked into my room, taking a look at the clothes still in their suitcase. “Not formal I don’t think. Just like a normal party.” She began picking up my clothes and placing them on my bed.

“You should wear a dress.” She threw me one of my green dresses. “This one. I bet he’ll wanna take it off later tonight.” I laughed. “Yeah not happening Stephie.”

Oscar had given me his number and sent the details for tonight. It was gonna be a party with almost all the drivers, and a shit ton of people.

The girls were already done getting ready, it seemed that I was the only one rocking up in a dress. They were all in skinny jeans. God I really needed to help with their wardrobe situation.

“Hurry up Y/N we’re gonna leave without you.” Katie called from the hallway.

“Holy shit.” We were all stood in front of an elusive door. We could see the lights sparkling from the windows of the home, music blasting. “Now who the fuck gave up their house for a rave?” I questioned, earning an embarrassingly loud laugh from Steph.

Once we had walked inside, it was quite obvious that we weren’t gonna be finding Lando or Oscar anytime soon.

The house was packed. Bodies were everywhere, dancing, kissing, just straight up passed out.

We made our rounds of the party, figuring out our bearings before coming to the kitchen.

“Y/N?” I turned around, my name was almost whispered, but I could still hear it.

I had come face to face with my ex. “Oh my God, hi Jay.” He hugged me. A hug that I had known too well.

“What’re you doing here? I didn’t even know you were back home.” He was holding a red cup. Classic. It was probably filled with beer considering how he smelt. “Just a quick trip back home. We were invited to the race.” He nodded, taking a swig.

Jayden and I hadn’t exactly ended on the best terms. He was my first serious boyfriend and we lasted two years. Until I had to move to London. He was angry at me for choosing work over love. But I had to. I loved football more than I loved him.

“Do you need somewhere to stay? I’ve got rooms in my hotel.” I immediately shut him down. “You’re too kind, but nah, I’m staying at Steph’s house.” As soon as I mentioned the name I could tell he cringed. He never liked Steph, he said she was too protective over me.

“Y/N!” I spun around and saw Oscar. “Having fun?”

“Watch it mate.” Jayden stepped up to Oscar. “Calm your tits. Just saying hello to a friend.” Jayden scoffed at his response. “Yeah well, leave my girlfriend alone.” He spat.

“The fuck Jayden?” I made eye contact with Oscar, "Ex. From a long time ago." I emphasised the 'long'. Oscar nodded, and signalled for me to follow him.

We walked further into the house, and had stopped at what I assumed to be the living room.

Lando, arms splayed over the head rests of the couch he was sitting on, looked me up and down. “Look who decided to show up!” He stood up and gave me a hug. “You look great.”

His cologne was strong, a vanilla scent.

"This is insane." I referred to the house and the people around us. "Yeah in all honesty, I have no idea whose house this is." We both laughed, still standing close to each other.

For some reason, I felt as if there was no one else here. Like it was just him and I. "You know I should probably get your number. Just in case you wanna come to more races." While he reached for his phone, I responded. "Hmm are you sure this isn't actually your attempt at scoring free arsenal tickets?" He passed me his phone, unlocked. "Me? Never." I smiled and created a contact in his phone.

"Message me, Lando Norris."

We had finally landed in London, after way too many hours cramped in a plane, I could finally stretch my legs. "Welcome to London." Katie looked out of the window, rain pouring from the sky. "Is it too late to go back?" I questioned.

Lando still hadn't messaged me, and in all honesty, I gave up on him ever reaching out.

After our conversation at the party, I was drawn back to the girls and didn't see him at all afterwards.

"Anyone for Nandos?"

"I'm gonna find you a hot English guy." Steph was sat at my vanity, fixing up her minimal makeup while I was sat on the floor, deciding what shoes would match my outfit best.

We were going out for a team dinner and I was knackered from training this week. Friday night out just didn't seem that appealing to me. "I'll pass." I settled on an old pair of sneakers. "Not even Lando Norris?" I didn't reply. The girls hadn't stopped going on about Lando since Australia, and were confused when he hadn't messaged me after the party.

"Oh come on. You're telling me that if you saw him you wouldn't immediately jump in his pants?"

"Firstly, ew don't talk about him like that, and secondly, I doubt he'd even remember me. We talked for what? Five minutes at most." She walked over to me and picked me up off the floor. "Come on, we'll be late."

Once we arrived at the restaurant, I took a seat next to Leah and checked the menu. I ordered a well-done steak with a side of salad, along with a glass of red wine.

"How you feeling for the weekend?" I asked Leah. It was her first game starting since her ACL injury, and I could tell that she was beyond nervous. "I'm scared. Like I want to be out there so badly, but I'm so afraid I'll do it again." I smiled at her sympathetically.

"If there's anyone who can bounce back, it's you." I paused, "You know, what I find weird?" She shrugged. "I haven't told you this, but before I came to Arsenal, I had posters of you in my room." She looked shocked. "Are you actually serious?"

I nodded in response. "You are seriously my favourite footballer. I remember when I got the call from my agent, all I could think about was the fact that you'd be my teammate. Not that I was playing in the WSL, or even Arsenal. It was you." She smiled, I could see her eyes glisten a little.

"Every single day you inspire me, and I promise, when you walk onto the pitch on Sunday, you're going to inspire a whole load of other people too." She hugged me.

"You're too sweet Y/N. Thank you." When we detached, I was met with a stunned Steph. "What?" I asked.

"Turn around." I looked behind and saw Lando sat at the bar. "Oh my fucking god." I faced back at Steph.

"Go up to him." I shook my head aggressively. "Absolutely not."

"If you don't, I'm gonna call out to him." I looked her dead in the eyes. "You wouldn't dare." She smiled, "I so would."

No one except Leah ad caught up on what Steph and I were talking about, until I heard my name shouted out from the other end of the table.

"Y/N look!" Katie pointed towards Lando, who had turned around at the crazed woman screaming.

We made eye contact and he smiled at me, getting up from his seat. I quickly got up too, and met him halfway.

"What are the chances?" He hugged me as I responded. "Wow this is really weird."

"How you been?" He asked, his hand on mine. "Ah yeah I'm good, just out with the girls for dinner." I turned around to draw his attention to them, only to be met with the eyes of every single person at that table. "Oh god don't mind them." He chuckled.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in Monaco?" He raised his eyebrow at me. "How'd you know I live in Monaco?" My cheeks turned red. "Have you been googling me?" He questioned, smiling down at me.

"I'm so embarrassed oh my god." I took a breath. "Hey, you never messaged me." I looked at him sternly, while he looked at me confused. "You are aware that you gave me the wrong number right?" He took out his phone and opened up his texts.

I cringed, and tapped on the number. "Oh my god, I did give you the wrong number, see I put 6 instead of 7." I pointed at the digits. "Why didn't you just get my number off of Oscar then?"

He put his phone back into his pocket. "Well as much as I didn't want to believe it, I thought you purposely gave me the wrong number. You know, to let me know you weren't interested." My jaw dropped. "You know, if my memory serves me right, I'm pretty sure I told you to message me."

"Hey, I didn't want to cross any boundaries, plus Oscar pointed out your ex to me, and I definitely was not gonna get on his bad side." I cringed at the thought of Jayden. "He's so gross." Lando agreed.

"I'm sorry about everyone staring too." I referred to my teammates, still looking over at Lando and I. "They're a little bit too interested in my love life." Chuckling, he sent a wave over to them. "Love life huh?" He smirked.

"Come sit with us." Katie (of course) yelled out at him. "Don't listen to her, I should probably let you get back to whatever you were doing."

He scratched the back of his head. "I wasn't doing much, I'd be happy to sit down with you lot." I looked back at the girls, Steph was beaming. "Maybe not, she looks a little creepy right now." He laughed. "Well if you really don't want me around your friends, why don't we just go for a walk then?"

"Why not?" He ushered for me to start walking and soon enough, we were out on the London streets.

"I heard that you have a game coming up." I was looking down as he looked to me. "Uh yeah, Sunday." He was about to speak when I cut him off. "You should come. I'd be happy to get you some tickets."

"Yeah actually that'd be great. I might just have to bring my Y/N jersey." He nudged my shoulder with his as we continued walking.

"You never know, maybe I'll even sign it."

"So what were you doing in a restaurant by yourself? Waiting for a date maybe?" I questioned, making his cheeks turn red. "I wish. I'm here for a few days before I have to fly to Japan. Just wanted a nice meal."

"Well come on, let's go find somewhere to eat." I grabbed his hand and pulled him along. "Don't you need to get back?" I shook my head "They know I'm in safe hands."

"Nah you're having a laugh, are you serious?" Lando and I had found a hole-in-the-wall pizza shop and were sat opposite each other. "No I'm serious, I got my permit like a year ago, but I refuse to drive."

"I don't know Y/N, that might be a dealbreaker. I mean, my whole life is driving." He was laughing. "Yeah well then you can just drive me everywhere." His smile was warm, comforting. "I'd like that."

Once we had finished up eating we started to walk back. Steph had texted me to say that she and the girls had left. "How are you getting home?" He asked me. "Probably an Uber." He tutted and shook his head. "Let me drive you."

"Thank you Lando. I really enjoyed this." I was standing outside his car as he dropped me off to my house. Through the rolled down window, I couldn't stop looking at him. "It was my pleasure. I want to see you again, soon." I started to blush.

"Wait, let me give you my actual number."

He immediately responded, "No need. I just need to change the 6 to a 7." I smiled, he remembered.

"I'm expecting some tickets by the way. And don't you dare put me up in the nosebleeds." We laughed together. "I'll see you later Lando."

"Get off your phone Y/N." I quickly dropped my phone into my bag, and looked up at Katie.

"There are no excuses today. We're giving it our all. These points are ours." The changeroom erupted. Today we had Chelsea, and it would absolutely decisive for us in the title race.

I was unlike most of the girl on the team, I preferred to sit and relax before games rather than getting energised early. "Are you messaging who I think you're messaging?" Steph slid in next to me.

"Shut up Steph." She grabbed my shoulders and lightly shook me, "And to think that you didn't want to go to the race." I shooed her away before picking my phone up to play some music.

I shuffled my playlist, and let saturn by sza start playing.

"You alright?" Leah tapped on my shoulder, to which I pulled one of my airpods out. "Yeah, just trying to concentrate you know?"

It was a pain in my knee. It hurt like a bitch. I fell to the ground immediately and clutched my leg. "Fuck fuck fuck." Steph ran straight to me, followed closely by a few of the other girls.

"Shit." Steph held my right knee. No one wanted to say what we thought it was. The dreaded ACL.

"I'm okay, it's fine." I tried to calm the girls down. I had stuck my leg foolishly into a tackle and twisted it slightly.

The physio who had come to aid me, placed a hand on my knee. "Where is it Y/N?" I pointed to the top of my knee. "Okay, you'll be right. Do you want to come off."

"No." He nodded and helped me stand up. "How's it feeling." I put pressure on it. "It's good." We walked off the field and I signalled to Jonas that I was fine.

After a quick treatment of cream and tape, I was ready to join my team again. The fourth official waited until the referee allowed me to come on, and I sprinted back into place.

"You got it Y/N." Leah shouted to me.

"And you're alright yeah?" Katie came around to me after the match ended. We finished strong with a 2-1 win, the goals from Alessia.

"Honestly, I feel fine. The physio said it was probably just a cork." She nodded in understanding. "Rest up, we need you." We walked towards the bench, smiles everywhere.

I looked out beyond the bench and saw Lando. He was standing up, cheering us on, a smiled crept across my face.

Jonas pulled us in for a group talk and, in all honesty, I couldn't focus on anything he was saying. My attention was completely on the fact that I could talk to Lando afterwards. I wasn't sure on how exactly I could go up to him.

"I'm so fucking proud of you girls." Once we were done congratulating each other, I was able to make my way to the seats above the bench.

I took a plethora of photos and signed many jerseys, still waiting for Lando to appear amongst the fans. Once I had finished with the section, I looked up in search of him.

"Y/N!" My name was called out from behind me. I turned around, and after seeing who it was, I walked over.

I threw my hands over Lando's shoulders, as he held my waist in for a hug. "You scared the shit out of me." He looked at me sternly, but it looked my friendly. "I scared the shit out of myself." He laughed. "Hey, look." He stepped slightly away from me and lifted up his hoodie.

Underneath it was our pink Stella McCartney kit. He pulled his hoodie off completely and showed me the back. My last name stood above the number 10.

"It's nice right?" He questioned. "Mhm." My only response. "Only mhm? I spent 200 quid on this!" I laughed at him. "I think I'll do you one better." I pulled the shirt I was wearing off and handed it over to him. "Matchworn, gotta be worth something." I smiled.

"Oh wow, are you serious?" He asked, holding the shirt in his hands. "You don't wanna keep it?" I shook my head. "Nah, I have plenty. Plus now you can start an official Y/N collection."

"Guess this means I'll have to give you my helmet after a race huh?"

"You're already inviting me to a race?" I asked, batting my eyes.

"Well the British GP isn't for a few more months so-" I cut him off before he could finish. "What about Japan?" He looked down at me confused. "What do you mean love?"

"What if I came to Japan? I'm sure they'd let me go down for a day or two." I couldn't help but replicate the smile that was on his face.

He didn't say anything, and instead leaned in.

His lips met mine as he held my face. I kissed him back passionately. Who would've thought that going to a silly race would end like this?

We pulled apart. "You better come to Japan."

lmk if you guys liked this!! i love lando and football sm, so why not mix the two??

say something is coming guys!! i'm in a bit of a slump :/ but my exams will be over soon thankfully

[marsdreamworld]

How Sweet It is to be Loved by You - LN4 x reader:

Mars’ Notes: I’ve never ever written anything like this before, but after rambling at @love-belle for a stupid amount of time, i thought why not? surprised it ended up being for lando and not charles but if this goes well i might j start writing a bit more!! anyways, i’m excited, please lmk what you think <333

Warnings: None!! super super fluffy :)

Description: Lando comes home to you, and everything is ok again.

————————————————————

Lando was exhausted. He loved his job, the roaring of engines, the loud shouts that always seemed to accompany the mechanics as they made any pre-race adjustments to his Mclaren, the screams of fans in the grandstands and during fan stages, but god, sometimes all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around your waist, bury his face in your neck and never leave. You were his peace, his moment of quiet in an otherwise hectic day. He missed you, and you were his rock during race weekends. He had spent the last week wishing you were with him and cheering him on from your spot in the garage.

“Lando? You ok, mate?”

Danny’s voice broke him out of his stupor, bringing his mind back to the private jet he was currently sat in, accompanied by the older driver. Just three more hours, and you can hug her all you want, he thought to himself.

“Yeah, fine, mate. Just wondering what’s for dinner.” he said, a smile on his face.

“If you say so” comes the reply, accompanied by a bright, dimpled smile.

————————————

After a hectic run through security and the throng of fans that were waiting diligently for him at the gate, Lando had finally made it home, his hands trembling at the prospect of finally kissing you again as he pushed his key into the lock of your shared flat.

“Lando? Is that you, my love?”

Your voice floated through the hallway, and he visibly relaxed - he was finally home, he was finally with you, and there was nowhere he’d rather be.

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me. Were you hoping for someone else?” he teased, seeing you emerge from your bedroom, clad only in one of his favourite Quadrant hoodies, and fluffy socks, your hair falling around your face in messy waves, silver wire-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of your nose. You padded over, soft footfalls echoing, until you were stood in front of him.

“Oh shush and hug me, you muppet.”

He closed the gap between you, and wrapped his arms around your waist, melting into you.

“God, I missed you”, he said, his voice muffled by your neck. You giggled and reached up to hug him back, carding your hands through his hair and leaving sweet kisses wherever you could reach.

“I missed you more, love. Would you mind helping me with something quickly?”, you mumbled into his hair, “I know you’re tired, and it’s been a long day, I just think my brain’s gone to mush and I can barely read what I’m writing.”

He lifted his head, and simply smiled at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “That’s what I’m here for, remember? Moral support and grammar police” he said, winking at you in an effort to make you laugh. You looked stressed, and he could tell you had been working away at your essay for far too long already, the pressure weighing heavily on your shoulders. “I’m assuming it’s another essay for class?”

“Mhmm, the professor decided it would be a good time to assign a stupid essay two weeks before midterms.” Your eye roll and answering nod was all it took for Lando to toe his shoes off, leaving his bags and coat by the door before he dragged you back into the bedroom, dramatically flipping into the double bed that occupied the corner, landing amongst the multitude of stuffed toys that had migrated to his side of the bed in the short time he was away.

“Right then, Ms. L/N, get your pretty arse over here and read me this essay.” he said, posing and putting on his best posh British accent, earning a laugh out of you. This was what Lando lived for, these quiet moments of domesticity where all he could hear was your laugh and he could revel in the fact that it was him, him who made you laugh and him who had the pleasure of hearing it.

You grabbed your notebook from the desk you had set up opposite the bed, claiming that you worked better when you knew Lando was close to you, and walked over to the bed, climbing in and placing his head in your lap.

A reporter had once asked him a question along the lines of “If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?” He had, of course, answered with the typical “on a race track”, the answer that wouldn’t have the Mclaren PR team screaming at him post press conference, but if he really had to pick, he would say with you. Anywhere with you was where he wanted to be, but he felt so at peace here, in your bedroom, with his head on your lap and your hand in his hair, your voice soft and sweet as you read him the opening paragraphs of your midterm essay.

Lando nuzzled further into your thighs, your nails now scratching across his scalp in a way that made him feel boneless. He could feel his eyes slowly slipping closed, the warmth and comfort lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

———————-

You were three paragraphs in when you stumbled on your words, struggling to understand a sentence you’d written.

“See, that’s the sentence I really don’t get. It just sounds so chunky and I really have no idea how to make it flow more, you know? I know it needs to be technical, it is an engineering essay after all, but it just sounds so hard to read and I don’t know how to make it sound better.”

You waited for Lando to tell you that you’d made a silly grammar mistake, or that you just had to split the sentence in two to make it more digestible, but you were met with silence. Looking down at your lap, you saw Lando asleep, smile painted on his face, a hand placed on your thigh, grip tight as though he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t move.

Lando had come into your life in the most unexpected way you could have imagined - cliché, but unexpected. You’d been waiting in line at a coffee shop, needing your daily dose of caffeine before your 9AM university lecture, and he had walked straight into you, a steaming hot Americano cradled in his hands, which had eventually made quick work of staining the cream bodysuit you had chosen for the day. He’d apologised countless times, turning back to grab a stack of tissues, even going so far as to attempt to rub the stain off, but had only succeeded in making it worse. You’d simply laughed, and told him that he really should go order another coffee, before the morning rush took over. He’d stared at you, open mouthed and speechless, before stammering through an affirmative and walking away. The next 5 minutes were spent throwing glances at each other through the crowd of people occupying the store, before he broke and asked for your number, stating that he at least owed you a new shirt, and perhaps even a date? It had been natural, and felt right from the moment he picked you up at 8 the following Friday, dressed in a suit and armed with roses.

You took one last look at the essay in your hands, and made the incredibly easy decision to call it a day. You placed the stack of papers on the bedside table, shifting in order to reach, only to have Lando grip onto you tighter, a mumble of “stay” escaping his pouted lips. Your heart clenched, and you couldn’t help but coo back that you weren’t going anywhere, my love, go back to sleep. You cleared as much of the bed as you could without disturbing your boy, and leaned back into the pillows you’d stacked behind you earlier in the day, Lando nuzzling further into your stomach, whining until you bring your hand back to his curls. As you shift, Lando reaches out to wind his hands around your waist, pulling you closer even in his sleep. You smile to yourself, and turn the small lamp on the side table off - your boy was home, and everything was alright.

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

It Takes a Mob pt.8

First

Previous

Ao3

It took all of Bill’s nerves to keep his eyes strait ahead. Lesser men would be following the boss as he paced around them. The sound of his steel toed boots clanking against the metal floor of the office.

But Bill refused to be one of those men. He has been earning his keep in Gotham’s underbelly since he made it through high school. He has went toe to toe with the bats in too many situations to let himself be scared shitless by a man he remembers meeting in pixie boots.

Red may have changed a lot since then, but he was still the same kid under all that body armor; dramatic sure, but still a good kid.

“Let me tell you guys a story. The big boss of a group of merry men decides to take a couple days off from his job.”

Marv was not keeping his cool as good. Out of the corner of his Bill could see him twitch with each turn Hood took.

“And everything is good! He gets to hang out with his family, catch up on the media read a couple books.”

It felt like a weird time to want to laugh, but Bill was finding it harm not to.

Between a dramatic monologue, a twitchy cohort and the small hands that were shoving themselves repeatedly into his armpit; Bill wasn’t surprised that he was loosing the battle.

‘This is my fucking life’

He tuned himself back in at a growl from the boss as he loomed over him.

‘Christ, what had daddy B been feeding him? he used to come up to my waist…’

“So what’s so funny Overbeck?”

“Oh nothing Boss, just the fact dat if we had really fucked up then you wouldn’t’ve pulled us to the side.”

Bill snarked as he tried to subtly discourage some nosy hands,

“I think we both know that you would’ve just gut us as a spectacle.”

“Is that so?”

“Like a bunch of pigs.”

The brief silence was thickening before the boss let out an ugly snort and let the tension release in his pose.

“Fuck all…”

“If you wanted information you could’ve skimped on the one act.”

With a graceless flop Red hood draped himself into one of the chairs and gestured for the two to do the same.

“Got to keep up the appearances, you know that Bill.”

And leaned forward as the two henchmen got comfortable.

Bill had to resist the impulse to smooth his hands down the kids back. Danny wouldn’t’ve minded if he did but it was best to keep minimal contact with the hidden protrusion less he wanted to bring them to the spotlight.

“So,”

Red asked his jaw on his knuckle,

“who found the kid?”

Bill time began to crawl as he felt the color try to leave his face.

Marv stood up with a jolt,

“What kid? Why are we bringing up kids?! Boss, you know we would never-“

“Jesus, will you sit down? I’m not accusing you of C.P. or some shit. There’s only so many things we use insulated boxes around here and I’m pretty sure Me-Mah would only be disappointed and mildly pissed if it was something food related.”

Marv caught Bill’s eyes with a panicked little glint,

‘Sometimes I forget that the big man was a detective.’

Bill tried to give a look that hopefully told the big oaf next to him to keep quiet.

‘Alright Red, we’re dancing now.’

“Yeah okay you caught us. There was a kid, we found them the other day while bar hopping.”

Red casually sat up and rolled his shoulders,

“Race, and description.”

“Young, couldn’t be any more than one. Caucasian, looks like one of the birds you know?”

“So why the fuck was I not informed about this?”

Ooh, that’s a dangerous tone. Not loose a kneecap tone but definitely toeing his patience.

The little old man in his head was taking a drag of a cigarette.

“Play it smart Bill or don’t play at all.”

He advised with a puff.

Bill remembered hearing those words a lot when he was younger.

The first time he heard them was after he got the snot beaten out of him in his first fight.

The last time was when he slung a bag over his shoulder and slammed the door on his old man’s face.

“Been thinking about the old guy a lot more than usual. Have no clue what that’s about.”

Bill huffed as he tried to mentally phrase his next words,

“Well quite simply it’s not an “you” problem boss. Listen, what happened to the kid was horrible, fuck whoever did it with the barrel of my gun, but you were taking a couple days off with family. What did you want us to do? Call you in the the middle of the night like “Eyy boss how’s the kids? Yeah well we found one of our own while you’ve been away! Yeah in the trash with no identification or contact information at all! See you next Tuesday!” What good would that have done other than pissing you off?”

Bill crossed his arms to try to hide some of the kid’s squirming. Looks like he got a little worked up as well during his lecture.

Hood let out a mechanical sigh,

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t’ve been informed.”

“And you would’ve,”

Bill drawled,

“Do you honestly believe we could hide something from you forever? Might has well tell me the Joker has given up a life of crime to be a hooker.”

Both of the other men choked and Bill mentally patted himself on the back.

It was hard enough as is to get any emotion out of the boss’ when he wears his crimson dome.

‘Alright Bill, distraction successful, bring it all the way home.’

“I’m just saying, it wasn’t like this was an organized crime of dumping babies. There isn’t greasy fucktard hitting in a warehouse goin’ “you know what this city needs? Traumatized garbage collectors.” This was someone making a shitty choice an’ getting away with it. The kid is safe, an’ is goin’ to be well taken care of and isn’t that what matters in the end?”

There was pause in the air after Bill finished.

For a moment it almost felt like he had gotten away with it.

“Bill?”

“Boss?”

“What’s with the jacket?”

“Fuck.” Bill did not like where this was going.

“I let myself go boss.”

A pause of disbelief filled the air as Bill tried to keep his panic off his face. Red was meeting his eyes behind his helmet, its dead stare giving a sense of deadpan as the seconds ticked by. Marv had the chair armrest in a white knuckled grip as he frantically shifted his eyes between the two.

“A little too much takeout an’ a little less cardio than the doc ordered…”

“Bill…”

“You know how it is boss-“

“Bill.”

“Yes?”

“Take off the coat.”

“Hey now-“ Bill flung himself from his seat “you’re a great guy boss but I’m not that type of worker!”

The boss was sadly was not going to let him get away with a joke.

Marv got up from his seat as Hood began to approach,

“Cut the shit Bill. I’m not mad, just need to know-.”

Whamp!

“Marv!!”

“What?!?”

The hoodlums tags part 1

@boredomfarie , @aconitewolfsbane , @withoutcontxt @onyxlightdragon , @satanicrutialspecialist , @phoenixdemonqueen , @vixen-uchiha , @skulld3mort-1fan , @bytheoldwillowtree , @illusionwolfwriter24r8 , @thewondersoflebanon , @vipower001 , @autumnwulf , @alice-hazelwood , @fisticuffsatapplebees , @f4nd0m-fun , @markus209 , @latheevening226, @dolfay, @basilf1res , @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair , @skirter01 , @bun-fish , @ascetic-orange , @thegatorsgoose , @sunflowershine03 , @ladythugs , @firegirl108 , @glitchedchaos , @rangerhorsetug , @mimilikey , @booberrylizard , @lehana37 , @dragongoblet , @flamey-comet , @mandyne-1001 , @starscreamlover , @moonfirearc, @bae-graphomaniac , @mewzaque , @wolfeyedwitch , @idfk-man10, @demon-cat-goes-woof , @undead-essence , @jaguarthecat

[heywriters]

For the fic commentary ask (idk if this is 500 words):

Standing in the darkened wings, suited in tulle and satin, our faces painted, we await our cue. We stand in an elongated row, the lead girl up front, nearest the stage, the last girl with her heels in the hall. I am four dancers back, head held high in a fixed pose as we are taught to hold; no relaxing just because we are not on display. I can see the lights beyond the lead girl’s head, but I cannot see the stage.

Above the music and the paces of performers already onstage, I hear a single footstep. My sister ahead of me does not hear it, my sister behind me does not hold her breath. I’m the only one who knows there is someone unexpected in the shadows with us.

The mildest glint of a metal knuckle and I stare straight ahead, my throat tight and my heart racing like a snared rabbit’s.

Seconds pass. The music swallows itself mournfully. The shadows squeeze tighter around me until—

I can feel his breath, but I do not look at him. When he moves I know better than to move, better than to distract him, knowing it’s like stepping out of the road when a vehicle hurtles by, it’s destination immensely more important than your own. So when the movement grazes my cheek I remain statuesque, but out of the corner of my eye I look.

His right hand made of flesh and blood touches my cheek, fingers gingerly tracing my cheekbone. They trace a curve down the side of my face and under my jaw, and too late I tremble. His hand still touching me, I turn my head incrementally to look into his eyes for an explanation, thinking this is a test, but really not thinking at all.

The eyes gazing back at me show no fury. They are not cold. They are not blank.

The Soldier is admiring me, and not with dilated pupils or calculating lust, but like he’s found a piece of art he enjoys, eyes following the trail of his fingers. I hold every muscle still just as I’ve been doing, watching his eyes as he drags his knuckles back up my cheek.

He hesitates. He sees me looking, and the admiration is drowned. His eyes portray a dilemma, a lost man, a little boy. He drops his hand and I look straight ahead, about to break a bone or strain a muscle from how tightly I hold myself in place. I hear him slip into the wings and I do not look back, but I listen, focusing all my attention on listening through the one ear aimed in his direction.

Our cue sounds, and we advance onto the stage, curtain rising, audience sighing. Throwing my attention into the dance, I forget the Soldier completely. Mind and body stay in the dance, senses stay on the audience, cues taken from fellow dancers, but the side of my face burns throughout the performance.

Author's Commentary

Wow. Not the fic I expected someone to pick, and also I forgot I wrote this, especially upon re-reading it (it's good?).

This scene came to me and was written down in roughly the same day. That's why the rest of the fic is so short, sadly. Spur of the moment, and it remains unfinished.

I picked 1st POV for Natalia because I had put myself in her shoes and couldn't imagine it from another viewpoint. Unfortunately, 1st POV is not popular for fanfic or fanon characters—I too dislike fics told from 1st POV. I really wanted to try it though and am not dissatisfied; it is what it is. Have frequently considered altering it to 3rd POV to make it more palatable to readers. Attempted to justify it by making these modern-day Natasha's recollections.

Key points to note:

Meant to exist in MCUniverse, not comics

This fic was inspired by another fic by...crap, I can't find it. I kept the vibes because they were good

I know almost nothing about ballet so I leaned on the canon understanding that the ballet aspect of her backstory was implanted memories and therefore could be fudged

I'm more of a Bucky fan than a Natasha fan, but both of them have such trauma, such stoicism, and above all repression to explore

Commentary by Excerpts

"Seconds pass. The music swallows itself mournfully. The shadows squeeze tighter around me until—" <- I really like this bit, wow. I don't remember what I was listening to when I wrote this, but I might have been describing it.

"I can feel his breath" Don't know why I wrote that, i didn't intend for him to be that close.

"When he moves I know better than to move, better than to distract him" Because both characters are essentially in a mind-controlled fog, neither of them really understands what is happening. However, Natasha has an advantage over "The Soldier." She lucidly assumes he must be there to execute someone, so both fear and duty compel her not to distract him.

("it’s destination" Typo! Writer, you cad. It's "its"!)

"The eyes gazing back at me...are not cold. They are not blank. The Soldier is admiring me...like he’s found a piece of art he enjoys, eyes following the trail of his fingers." Arguably, The Soldier is more tightly controlled than the Widows, having been tortured for decades longer than Natalia and being a greater asset to his handlers than her (also, different handlers, but that's another topic). So for him to notice Natalia, especially when she herself believes she's a ballerina, means there's a flaw in his programming.

I imagined WS had been on his way to do whatever he was ordered to do, only to see this really cute girl nearby and his inner, lost Bucky Barnes was like "huh, that's interesting." It's possibly the first time he's felt an emotion like this in a while too, so he forgets himself (did he know himself to forget himself?) and reaches out to see if she's real.

"He hesitates. He sees me looking" This is kind of the "only two people in the room" trope, but less in a romantic way and more in a "we were not supposed to see each other, much less make direct eye contact" type way. In that handful of seconds, they break through their programming together. But they cannot dwell on it.

("curtain rising" oops, no, I've already established the ballet is in progress, why would the curtain rise again? my bad)

"I hear him slip into the wings and I do not look back, but I listen, focusing all my attention on listening" For their safety, they return to their roles, but Natalia now has food for thought. Even though she tries to move on, she can't forget what she's learned: that the Soldier is trapped in his role as much as she is in hers.

Another layer to this that wasn't clear here is that he shouldn't be there at all. His presence is disrupting her conditioning. His brush with reality alters hers as well. By random happenstance, or perhaps "user error" on the part of his handlers, his small break in character has had a ripple affect on young Natalia. She will eventually be the first to escape because of this random, unsupervised moment.

THANKS FOR SENDING THIS! It was really fun to go over this, mostly forgotten, fic of mine.

---

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[babybammargera]

The boys when you wear kinda heavy makeup/doing their makeup.

Bam:

He definitely watches the whole time you get ready.

Compliments you the whole time.

Picks up random makeup items and asks what they do.

He asks you to do his eyeliner all the time.

Like almost daily.

"Hey when you're done with that can you do my eyeliner?"

Will kiss you just to mess up your lipstick/lipgloss. (Even if you aren't a couple)

You put eyelashes on him once and the amount of sass radiating from that boy could power his hummer.

He's secretly your practice dummy when it comes to makeup.

But nobody knows.

Not even Ape.

Ryan:

Watches silently while you put on makeup.

He will let you do his makeup.

But only if he can do yours.

"Come on it can't be that hard I watch you do your makeup all the time."

He doesn't do half bad on your makeup.

Will 100% kiss you on the cheek smudging lipgloss everywhere

Spins you toward the mirror grinning.

"See I told you it would be easy"

Somehow ends up with half an eyelash hanging off and smudgy lipgloss.

Bc he won't stop touching his face.

"Ry seriously stop you're making it worse and the more you mess it up the harder it's gonna be to get it off."

Johnny:

Constantly telling you how talented you are.

"How did you get it to look like that? That's awesome."

He's talking about your eyeliner.

He let's you put simple makeup on him and wears it around set for at least an hour and a half.

He asks all the boys how he looks.

Bats his fake eyelashes.

Walks around talking like a lady the whole time.

Calls himself Patty (idk why he just does)

Pontius:

Dude will straight stop you mid makeup on yourself

To ask you to deck him out in drag.

And he's serious.

"You do your makeup so well can you make me look like those people on drag race."

At first you are kinda iffy about doing it bc he can't sit still for the life of him.

And when you do he walks around in his bunny outfit.

Posing and bragging about how pretty he is.

Brags about you making him pretty.

Steve-o:

Appreciates the effort you make to feel nice.

Insists you teach him bc "it looks really hard."

Loses interest pretty quickly after you tell him most makeup isn't edible.

"This looks like candy and you're telling me I can't eat it?"

Sober Steve won't let you go much further than putting some lipgloss and lashes on him.

But drunk Steve is a whole other story.

Full face of makeup walking around the party

Shirtless and trying to make out with whoever is closest to him.

Ehren:

Cute little compliments often.

Kinda appreciates from a distance.

But if he needs makeup for a bit he's asking for your help.

He's also the kind of friend you want around at the end of the night if you get too drunk.

He's watched to put on and take off your makeup on set enough to know what to do.

Carefully peeling your false lashes off and putting them away.

Then removing or helping you remove the remainder of your makeup

Wouldn't want his pretty friend to break out.

And you love him for that.

Dave:

Calls you pretty all the time

Compliments you more when you aren't wearing makeup.

Not that he doesn't like it he just thinks you look good in general and don't really need it

Unlike the others tho he's not too keen on the idea of you putting makeup on him.

But after darf showed up creating a particularly annoying experience bam and ry hold him down.

And you make him look like a snooty rich girl.

I'm talking lots of pink, glitter, and lots of highlight.

With the exception of DARF written on his forehead with eyeliner in bold letters.

@y34hdud3

Edit I forgot about the s/o part but some of them work w that. I'm sorry

[frozenjokes]

Signing Back In, Apparently - 20

Prev/Next

Scar woke as electricity spasmed through his nerves, lighting his entire body on fire. He felt himself slip and then he was falling, but it was only seconds before his back hit the water, the cold shocking him back to life. Heavily disoriented, all he had was a tight command at the back of his mind, to wake up, to move . Where was he going? What was he running from? His eyes stung as he opened them under the dark water, trying to figure it out. Ah, he needed to breathe, didn’t he. He should work on that. Which way was up? Scar kicked out through the dark water, hardly able to see his arms in front of his face. Just as panic was starting to overwhelm him, he felt something latch around his chest and heave him upwards, spinning him around so fast Scar thought he might pass out again. Again? He couldn’t remember.. he couldn’t.. something was missing.

Scar struggled to focus his vision as his head broke the surface, letting himself be dangled as whatever held him pulled him from the water. He felt his body begin to go limp before another jolt shot through all of his nerves, too painful to scream. It was over as fast as it began, a new warning at the back of his head. Danger! He needed to move, he needed to run- Scar flailed, unsettled as parts of his captor seemed intangible, unable to be clawed or pushed.

“Whoa, there he is!”

Recognition tightened Scar’s attention, his vision clearing as he struggled to look up and match a face to the voice. His eyes still stung from the water. Panic that felt unlike his own burst through his limbs as he recognized Cub, and he struggled with new vigor.

“Hey man, get a hold of yourself. Merlin wrecked your boat and we don’t need you drowning before we get to see them in action!”

Scar took in gasping breaths when words failed him, struggling to calm his racing heart. Why was he so afraid? Had he really lost his grip so completely? His hands finally found purchase on Cub’s form, a coat maybe, which he squeezed tightly. Where was his control? Why wouldn’t his head stop screaming?

“You did something to me,” Scar heaved, “You ruined me. This is your fault.”

“Cheers- oh, one minute,” Cub stopped at a buzz of static from something in his pocket, dropping Scar entirely to fish it out. Scar yelped as he fell, splashing below the water’s surface once more. He hit the seafloor butt first, taking a sputtering moment to realize he could stand. Scar pushed himself to the surface, suddenly grateful his hair was tied back. He was up to his neck, but he could move, he could swim. Cub was dressed in a physical lab coat over the one in his ghost’s form and those same long black gloves he had worn to cut open Scar’s back. Dressed for moving humans around, how lovely. A voice Scar didn’t recognize stopped him in his tracks, loud and slightly muffled by static.

“Cleo- come on- she’s not responding-” the walkie in Cub’s hand clicked off, Cub himself frowning deeply.

“Shit,” he muttered, before bringing the device to his face, “Joe, just get them to shore, you don’t have to worry about them dying, I’m sure they’ll come back. If not, I can take care of it.”

“ That’s not helpful, Cub!” Joe yelled back, Scar hearing the voice through the walkie as well as across the water. They must be close, but the thick fog made it difficult to see.

Cub shrugged, giving Scar an exasperated look, “I don’t get it.” The walkie continued to go off, but Cub put it away with a frown. Scar opened his mouth to respond as he waded backwards, but the words dried on his tongue. There was something bright like sparks going off behind Cub and Scar squinted, trying to see where it was coming from through the fog. Trying to remember where he recognized those lights. Cub followed his gaze with a casual confusion, only for his entire body to tense, floating in a staggered pose of fear before swooping down and dragging Scar across the water. “Time to go!”

Scar didn’t even have time to scream before a massive form, Merlin , bore down on them, the force of the following draft nearly sending Cub, and by extension Scar, flying. He heard Cub’s laughter as he was forced to hold on for dear life, dangling helplessly in the air.

“Look at that! You’re trying to fly! Those wings won’t hold you though,” Cub sounded delighted, forcing Scar to look back and see his ghostly wings flapping with a feverous panic.

“I’m not doing that!” Scar bit back, embarrassment rising on his face. He gasped as pain radiated through his entire head, causing a headache so fierce he thought he might let go and fall. Merlin. It must have hit its head in the shallow water. He sputtered curses and insults, his words moving so fast, he hardly even processed what he was saying, which Cub found pretty amusing. Cub only stopped his chuckling when a column of flame shot overhead, forcing him into a tight dive as the fire adjusted its course to follow their track. Scar recognized the sound of the fireworks the ghosts used to get around quicker, terror gripping fast as Cub moved a hand off his back to set them off.

“Your ghosts didn’t say Merlin could breathe fire!” Cub yelped, diving again as Merlin pursued them. Scar saw them more clearly now above the fog line. Merlin must have been double, maybe triple the size, and so much longer , body snaking in loops like a dragon. It’s face- both faces- were split down the middle, filled with sparkling cracks. From him. From Sausage’s gun.

“ It couldn’t! It- it’s bigger!” Scar found himself gasping for air, unable to catch his breath before Cub shot off again with the help of more firework rockets. Scar felt more pain in his head, in his arms, as Merlin crashed into the trees below. Cub’s walkie was rattling off constantly now, but Scar couldn’t hear the words. He couldn’t do anything.

Cub paused in the air, surprised, “Really? Now that’s interesting.. is the island having an effect on its form?” Merlin charged back through the air as Cub considered, Scar scratching frantically at his coat until he clumsily moved out of the way. Every careless movement made Scar more and more sure he was going to get dropped. Every helpless moment making him more and more angry. Cub paused again before speaking through his walkie, “Merlin is pursuing Scar, where should I take him?”

“-Perimeter. Take him to the Perimeter,” another voice, but one Scar didn’t recognize. At least now, some of the other ghosts had caught Merlin’s attention, leading her snaking above and below the fog. Scar recognized Grian’s yell.

“Cub!” Another ghost flew above the fog line dressed from head to toe in uniform complete with a helmet that obscured his face. He hardly looked like a ghost besides the fact that he was flying. “Cleo needs you. Joe is going to join you and the rest of us will keep Merlin away from your lab as long as possible.”

“She didn’t come back?” Cub sounded surprised, Scar mildly interested to hear the worry under his tone.

“No. Not yet at least, but we don’t have time to wait if season nine is ending. Do what you do. If you need extra help, just call.”

“Right. Well when this net plan doesn’t work, I bet bringing Scar to the brink would slow it down.”

“You- you mean close to death?”

"Do I get to be part of this conversation?” Scar cut in, but was promptly ignored. Cub gave his companion a dark look, answering that question.

“Let’s talk later,” the other ghost sounded unsure, but Scar didn’t have the chance to say anything else before Cub tossed him into the open air. The other ghost yelped, but hardly as loud as Scar screamed. He was caught with a grunt, the ghost taking a moment to collect himself. “Hello Scar, I’m Xisuma.”

Scar seethed, saying nothing. Cub flew off with his firework rockets, and Xisuma dragged him in the opposite direction. There was light beneath the fog, partially dispersing its thickness. Fire. Scar couldn’t bring himself to care. Right now, he’d be happy to see this whole place burn.

“Alright,” Xisuma continued unsteadily after the awkward pause, “I understand you’re upset..” he trailed off. Scar wished Xisuma was physical so he could bite him. Well technically, with the uniform… Scar didn’t get the chance to decide when Xisuma flew off, holding him far more gently than Cub had. Somehow, this was more infuriating. The light from the fires made it easier to see through the fog as Xisuma dipped below the fog line, and Scar could see a dozen or so ghosts weaving in and around Merlin. It was looking disoriented, moving its heads slowly as it tried to follow multiple ghosts at once, only to give up and spit flame at whoever happened to be closest.

“Hey!” Xisuma yelled, his voice holding almost zero authority, “Uh, Merlin! This is the guy you want dead right? I’ve got him! Come chase me!” Xisuma held Scar out like he was some sort of dog treat, Scar only able to dangle limply. His arms were going to fucking hurt tomorrow. The other ghosts seemed to understand, slowing their flashy assault, and Merlin’s focus locked upwards, right on Scar.

“I’m going to throw up,” Scar deadpanned, taking great joy in Xisuma’s panicked expression.

“Please don’t-” Xisuma cut himself off with a yell as Merlin launched upward, just barely dodging out of the way. He said no more before holding him closer, and Scar was pleased to see a strangled expression on the ghost’s face as he shot off with his firework rockets. The other ghosts followed suit, the sound of rocket blasts filling the air alongside Merlin’s roars. Scar heard another ghost yell something along the lines of ‘Oh, come on!’ as Merlin scorched the earth of the shopping district, seemingly just to destroy things for fun. Well, if Scar could breathe fire, that’s probably what he would do too. The fires from the forest marched forward behind Merlin, like soldiers into battle. It was terrifying how quickly it spread, like the force of Merlin’s anger couldn’t help but swallow the rest of the world in its path. Scar couldn’t tear his gaze away, even as the wind and smoke stung his eyes. His friends, his family, letting their fire loose. If only it hadn’t taken their deaths to reignite it. Scar resigned himself to the sky, only caring to watch the destruction of this strange world.

The Perimeter was an imposing sight, an industrial hole in the ground so massive, Scar couldn’t see the other side. The ghosts below caught his eye, maybe because of their somewhat unique looking appearances, but also because of the net they had hauled from the bottomless pit. It was big, but not nearly big enough. Probably also flammable. Scar hoped he wouldn’t spontaneously combust if Merlin set himself on fire. Out of all the ways he had imagined himself going, that was one of the least appealing, up there with the stupid shit, like disease or passing in his sleep.

Scar was a bit shocked when Xisuma set him on the grassy edge, nearly forgetting how to use his legs after being ragdolled around for so long. He considered running, but he only backed away a couple steps before the Perimeter ghosts started yelling orders and Xisuma put his hands on his shoulders. The order was clear. Stay. He promptly flew off to help with the net, leaving Scar alone. Well, if no one was here to stop him…

Scar looked to the Perimeter, wondering if he’d be able to get down there somehow and hide away; just escape from all the bullshit and take his life back into his own hands. The voice at the back of his mind seemed to like that idea. However, he hardly took two steps forward before someone slammed into him, knocking him clean on his back. The left side of his head screamed as Scar hit the ground, and he laid there for a moment to recover, drawing a hand over his face. Grian and Impulse were waiting at his feet when he finally looked up, each sporting the long gloves Cub had been wearing. Of course.

“Well hello there,” Scar mumbled, rubbing his face.

“Don’t even think about it,” Grian growled, threat evident in his stance. His anger was dropped immediately as he looked past Scar, replaced with a restless anxiety. Scar followed his gaze to see the ghosts lifting the net, trying now to tangle it around Merlin.

“Maybe you guys should go deal with that, make sure they don’t hurt him,” Scar muttered, turning his eye back to his ghosts. Neither looked remotely pleased at that, but Impulse put a hand on Grian’s shoulder, encouraging him to go. After a short hesitation, Grian nodded, hopping into the air and flying away. Impulse stayed, glaring.

“Where’d your trust issues come from, huh? Can’t let me off the leash for even a second?”

Impulse crossed his arms, looking silly as his face scrunched in annoyance, “You could say it started when you turned your sword on your crew. Got worse most recently when you turned it on yourself.”

Scar felt his mask of indifference slip, confusion furrowing his brow, “What are you talking about?” There it was, that gap, a block on his memory. Impulse only scowled, whatever he was going to say next interrupted by Merlin’s roar and the following impact of their crash into the Perimeter’s edge. Scar scrambled to his feet to see the net twisted over Merlin’s faces and forelegs, but not stretching much farther than her mid back. He felt the ache of her rough landing in his own arms. Merlin writhed in their trap, thrashing and wailing like a cat getting its head stuck in a bag. Quite adorable really, until they tore forward and freed themself in seconds. Well, that was expected. Scar laughed as he saw Grian, who was trying to help calm Merlin down, get positively launched as it reared upwards, but promptly stopped laughing when Merlin charged directly toward him. Scar saw fire in its open jaws as another force slammed into him, swinging him away.

“Hello, Scar!” Zedaph greeted him cheerily, letting out a small yelp as Merlin’s fire singed his short tail. Cub certainly wasn’t the only ghost here who had modified his appearance; Zedaph holding many sheep-esc traits. Perhaps some of these ghosts didn’t start human at all. At this point, Scar was finding it harder and harder to be a skeptic.

“You aren’t, by chance, planning on stabbing me within an inch of my life with those horns of yours, are you?” Scar asked, unable to quell the thought on his own.

“Uh, nope! Should I be?”

“Preferably not.”

Over Zedaph’s shoulder, Scar saw the fire spreading over the hills in the distance, almost jumping from tree to tree as it swallowed all life. Zedaph followed his gaze.

“Wild, isn’t it? I wonder what’s making it travel so quickly! It’s not like normal fire, no, it’s definitely not, I even saw it eating away at stone buildings in the shopping district! I’m surprised this Merlin fella isn’t all tuckered out already, I can’t imagine how much energy this is taking!”

“Energy? Ghosts don’t get tired, do they? Mine don’t sleep.”

Zedaph’s face lit up, Scar’s expression falling in turn, “They do, actually! Even here where we’re more powerful, if we work too hard or for too long, we need to take breaks and recharge! Eventually, if a ghost doesn’t stop, they’ll get all flickery! Not to mention they’ll be in quite the sour mood!” Zedaph snickered, as if remembering many encounters with tired ghosts. “Oh, I hope when Merlin calms down I’ll get to take a closer look,” Zedaph talked breezily as he zipped around with Scar, dodging through Merlin’s forelegs and fire with extra, extremely disorienting, flair, “The way they keep breaking apart is fascinating! I see them so far and I’m like ‘won’t be able to catch me here!’ and then they totally just launch the first half of their body forward to bite me in half! Crazy stuff! Hey, is that injury on your face related to the cracks on theirs?”

“No,” Scar grunted as Zedaph rocketed suddenly in a different direction, doing a little spin as he went, “Just coincidence.” With the way Zedaph was flying, he was pretty sure he might actually puke. Zedpah deflated with a frown, and Scar was amused with how Zedaph took him at his word. The ghost adjusted the way he held Scar as his walkie started buzzing, picking it out of his pocket.

“We’re going to need another plan,” a voice Scar didn’t recognize said, sounding anxious, “This fire isn’t letting up, even near the water. What if it never burns out, even after the whole island is covered? We won’t be able to touch the ground anymore.”

“Net didn’t work, huh?” Cub’s voice, sounding unconcerned. There was a lot of background noise; clicking glass, tools, and Joe’s voice, but the words weren’t too audible, “My suggestion is to mess with Scar’s body, get him close to death to slow it down.”

Zedaph gave Scar a knowing look, smiling. “Classic Cub.”

“Not helpful! Don’t do that!” Scar yelped, the panic that felt so unlike him sputtering out in a humiliating squeak. Fuck, he really needed to get it together.

“No! That’s too dangerous!” Grian’s voice was painfully loud through the walkie; he must’ve stolen it from another ghost, “If we start hurting Pearl and Mumbo, they might panic! It might get worse! What if you accidentally kill Scar?” There were some static and shuffling noises as the walkie was taken back.

“We can’t distract them forever,” another voice, strong and practical, “We might need to keep that in mind, just in case.”

Zedaph talked now, bringing the walkie to his face, “The fire looks like it’s spreading regardless of what Merlin does. Slowing it down might not stop the fire at all, especially if the fire spread is fueled by its magic, not its physical state. We might be able to exhaust it if we keep defending like we are now.”

“What if it can’t stop until the island is destroyed? What if it’s like destiny, the way the season is meant to end? Maybe we can help it wreck the place, and this will end sooner.” Scar recognized one of the Perimeter ghosts as he spoke, using big gestures.

“That is an awful idea. I’m getting my TNT now,” Scar didn’t recognize the voice, but he saw the ghost beside the prior put away his walkie and fly into the Perimeter, quickly joined by his friend. Scar was surprised to hear more assent from the other ghosts, many looking nervous, but at the same time, more animated. Scar guessed they didn’t blow up their own homes very often. Must be like the forbidden fruit for dead people or something.

“Stupid follow up idea!” Zedaph piped up, looking excited, “Maybe once Merlin sees us all destroying our stuff, they’ll understand we’re on their side and we can all be friends!"

The following ghosts who spoke agreed that was, in fact, a stupid idea. Zedaph seemed pleased. Cub suggested once more they just stab Scar a couple times and see what happened, but apparently the idea of destroying their own builds alongside a giant moth monster was too appealing to pass up. Scar huffed, reaching out for Zedaph’s walkie. The ghost understood, handing it over cheerily after another close dodge.

“Right. If this is happening, can I please get carried around by a less neurotic flier.”

[thebreadvansstuff]

“Against the wall”

Roleplay, handcuffs

Harry hears Louis' steps circling him, rather than sees them. He listens closely to the heavy thud of his shoes on the wooden floor of their basement, but catches no sight of him in the darkness.

Louis takes his time approaching him, and then finally pulling the string to turn on the table lamp. The room is dimly lit and cold, a single table placed in the middle of it, and some cardboard boxes Harry had hurriedly pushed off to the side before they started playing.

The atmosphere makes their scenario all the more realistic, makes Harry's stomach swirl with excitement.

"Name," Louis calls, startling Harry out of his thoughts. He clears his throat.

"Harry," he responds automatically.

"Harry what?" Louis asks with a tone that indicates impatience and irritation.

"Styles," Harry supplies quickly, and Louis notes it down on what seems like a clipboard.

Fuck, Harry should not have the right to be this excited over such small details.

Louis taps his pen rapidly on the clipboard. "And do you know why you're here, Harry Styles?" He utters the name mockingly.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Harry thinks as he gnaws on his lip.

"Uhm...I was...speeding," he makes up.

The corner of Louis' lips turn upwards slightly, before he schools his expression into something stern and unforgiving again.

"That's right." He paces around Harry, who's standing still in the middle of the room, hands clasped in front of his crotch in a submissive pose that coincidentally serves to cover his rapidly hardening cock.

"And do you know what that means?" Louis asks when they're face to face again.

Harry shakes his head. "No, sir."

Louis clicks his tongue, like he's disappointed with the answer. "It means you get a ticket."

Through the distracting thrill of anticipation, Harry fails to realise that this is his opportunity to play along, until a few seconds have passed and Louis' eyebrows have furrowed.

"Are you just gonna stand like that?" Louis spits. Harry gapes at him. "You know, I could stay here all day," Louis drags out the word, "I won't let you go until you've paid."

Harry blinks rapidly, refocusing on the dialogue. His heart is racing, humiliation and arousal pumping through his veins.

"Please, officer. Can't you just let me go?" he pouts, meeting Louis' eyes through long eyelashes.

Louis' eyes slide down Harry's body, and then up again. "Why would I?"

"I don't have money, sir," Harry says, slumping his shoulders like he's defeated.

Louis smirks. "Then I'm afraid I can't let you go," he shrugs. "Give me your hands," he instructs with his deep and commanding voice that makes Harry's cock twitch.

Harry extends his arms between them without thinking, sucking in a sharp breath when he hears the click of the handcuffs shutting around his wrists.

"Please don't arrest me, officer," Harry begs, shivering as Louis pushes him around the way he desires.

Louis huffs as he slips the handcuffs' keys into his pocket.

"I'll do anything, sir, please!"

That seems to capture Louis' attention, because he smirks up at Harry and quirks his brow. "Anything?" he asks.

Harry doesn't even pretend to hesitate as he nods vehemently.

Louis slaps his hands together, rubbing them as he assesses Harry. "I might have something in mind..."

Harry waits to hear it with his breath held.

"Kneel against the wall."

Send me a line, and I'll write a snippet! - NSFW edition!

[sugar-petals]

Hi Caro! How are you? I hope you're good and in a place where it isn't very hot (my friend living in England had a very rough time). I'm just here wondering why my type is cute subby twinks, and why is close to impossible to find them in Argentina (I still remember the day I took one of those online test about the type of men you like and the answer was twinks and I was like WELL DAMN I FEEL ATTACKED). My name is Victoria, idk if I ever told you, but everyone calls me Vik or Vicky (usually the first one, I guess it's more gender neutral so it fits me better). Sorry that I'm ranting, I really enjoy talking to you.

more than glad to answer, vic! 💙 hm... a philosophy on twinks and why they're appealing. time for a little essay.

first off, i wish there was a bi and straight term as well, they're not 100% the same as e.g. pretty boys or femboys — those categories are even more particular to a certain femdom aesthetic. pretty boys are defined by face, femboys by clothes hair and body, twinks by both.

my suggestion for a word would be "prince". it's positive, people get the gist intuitively, and it's derived from the groundbreaking artist who invented this whole game to the fullest after greek culture laid the foundation, shoutout to apollo. before leo (90s) zac efron (00s) and taemin (10s) paved the way, there was prince in crop tops, heavy makeup, heels, and poses few guys dared.

so, a prince, they're usually the anti-jock/bear, right. more petite in frame, often fashionable like an it-boy (see lucky blue smith), frequently gnc, and found in a 20-30 age group with some exceptions. but i think that's why they are appealing to us, it's a generation thing. just like t. chalamet, lil nas x, and troye sivan hit it big among gen z by sheer exposure, or the eboy/softboy fad in hetero media, although that one wasn't really femdom in spirit and just another brand of manipulative nice guy syndrome.

princes don't come across as physically imposing, they're more tongue in cheek and seductive or cute, the link to your zelda. that caters to somebody with a taste for subs/bottoms who'd rather have them sat on their lap than getting choked out by them which is almost treated as a given, same with spanking or rough sex. so, that notion of twinks has opened the door to something less compulsive gladly.

a prince can come with an edge, twinks and brats may have some overlaps depending on the guy, but at the end of the day, they're subs, both hard and soft. jonghyun has set quite the tone for it artistically, major credit due. he's broken the mold to say that it's so boring and restrictive to be a dominant guy and there's more out there than what the societal landscape offers.

thank god taemin has carried that on and continues to inspire others.

in recent times, the word also becomes more and more open to guys who are tall / fit or conventional-looking. i see this in how european football is received on tumblr where calling your favorite club `#twink fc (affectionate)´ is a thing on here 😆 and it's true. you haven't seen more collective prince energy as in the german national team. the gorgeousness is real and the ladies who date them... lucky af.

(^kai havertz - plays for chelsea fc)

(^joshua kimmich / leroy sané - play for bavaria fc. they both have 2+ kids with their gfs lmao you don't have to be a DILF or daddy, twinkness cannot be concealed 🤘)

the whole idea is not to be conflated with power bottoms, see aquaria on drag race who looks like a twink but tops, by the way. which is why taemin generates so much traction, he plays with switching and walks the line but always winds up with a submitting conclusion. ten, or yoongi, they’re mysterious to people in that regard, too. or wonho, who follows a jock aesthetic but offers himself as a fantasy with an 'open mind' and a cute personality in the mix, neither gentle giant, himbo, nor a skinny short king, just doing his own thing.

a twink or prince is easy on the eye for anyone who likes androgyny and is usually in favor of being gnc themselves, or is bored/turned off/disappointed or even frightened by the mainstream. argentina hasn't had that scope of pop culture industry to inspire trends, and prevailing structures of machismo and chivalry prevent androgyny in dress and behavior, especially outside larger cities as is also the case where i live (southern germany where christianity rules — you can imagine, it's not berlin).

where binaries, monosexuality and hypermasculine/homophobic/biphobic conduct is exaggerated, you won't find a twink able to do their thing or getting attention. sure, gnc people are always there and the world is slowly catching up in some places, although it feels like we're going ten steps backwards as a backlash these days which is unacceptable. that's why k-pop is such a refreshing element in the way that male performers present concepts and a female pov is embraced. nobody deems it punishable or strange if you walk up like this, in fact it's celebrated.

it also bursts the bubble of twink/prince = white and goes even further than just one specific aesthetic. it changes constantly and incorporates actual elements of kink culture rather than leaving men's submission unspoken as an ultimate taboo. it may be commercial, but it is also literal and encourages nonconforming styles and body types as the rise of shinee, skz, or nct exemplifies. the next generation prince/twink trailblazer is sure to be found there, my bet is on taeyong or felix, they're really owning the princeliness.

[xojinnie]

color me b l u e

self-para ; jinnie’s siblings call her with some life-changing news.

     park sunhi had never been a spontaneous kind of woman. everything in her life was meticulously planned to a tee — and jinnie had always admired her sister for that. however, that meant an impromptu facetime from the older woman on a random wednesday morning was more than enough to incite confusion. a picture of the two of them in their youth lit up jinnie’s phone screen: an nine year old sunhi grinning at the camera with her hands propped against her hips in a confident pose while a three year old jinnie adorably mimicked her with wide, adoring eyes. the brunette smiled at the memory, sitting up in her hotel bed so that she can answer the call. her smile only widened once her sister’s face appeared on the screen, somewhat blurry because of the wifi connection, but still a welcoming sight. 

     “ unnie~ hi ! what a surprise. ” normally, sunhi liked to schedule their facetimes so that it could fit in their busy schedules. but jinnie didn’t mind the switch up. “ if i knew you’d be calling, i would have gotten cute for you. ”

     “ you’re always cute, nini. ” her sister’s to the point tone rung through the phone speaker, a gentle smile forming on the older woman’s features. “ are you fishing for compliments now ? ”

     “ no, of course not. ” a giggle occupied the maknae’s words. her sister knew better than anyone that she usually ran the opposite way when it came to compliments. she’d gotten better in recent years but still, it wasn’t the most comfortable. “ what’s up ? is everything okay ? ”

     “ yes. everything’s fine. don’t worry. ”

     jinnie’s shoulders tensed. she’d always been far too empathetic for her own good, able to detect the woes and worries of others even if they weren’t readily set out on a table. while sunhi’s reply may have been satisfactory to the average person, there was a certain iciness about the response that put her on alert. as if sunhi had practiced the answer to be as curt and clinical as possible. “ — is there something to worry about ? ”

     “ don’t drag it out. you’re just going to stress her out. ”

     the familiar masculine voice cut into the conversation. almost instantly, jinnie gasped, her eyebrows furrowing together as she took in the terse expression on her sister’s face. “ oppa ? ”

     with a sigh, sunhi shifted the angle on her phone to reveal jihoon sitting next to her. he flashed his signature grin as he nodded, but something felt forced about it. he was usually warmth personified, full of jokes and mischief, but right now, it felt like he was performing the role. “ hey, jin. ”

    the sight of her siblings together made jinnie happy to see, but the happiness was filled with this unexplainable dread. why were they together ? her brother still lived in their hometown, in an apartment within walking distance from their mother and grandparents’ home. he spent his days in the small photography studio that he owned and his nights working as a dj at the local club. meanwhile, her sister lived in busan with her fiancé and their adorable dog as she worked intensely at completing her surgical residency. all three of the park siblings had full, hectic lives and unfortunately, that meant it was very rare for all of them to be in the same room together. 

     “ where are you guys ? ” jinnie had to ask.

     “ home. ” jihoon answered, which she took to mean gwangju. her heart began to race. 

     “ is— are halmeoni and halabeoji okay ? what about umma— ”

     “ chill, jin. everyone’s healthy and safe. don’t freak out. it’s not about them. ” jihoon cut in, knowing his little sister’s anxieties well.

     “ it’s about appa. ” sunhi offered after a moment.

     jihoon scoffed, fire in his eyes. “ if we can even call him that. ” sunhi smacked him in the shoulder. “ what ? it’s not like the prick— ”

     “ jihoon. ” there was a sternness in sunhi’s eyes, much like how their grandfather got when he was scolding one of them. jinnie instinctively straightened up at her sister’s expression. and even though jihoon didn’t look too pleased about being hit, he did the same. “ don’t do this. not in front of her. ”

      jinnie couldn’t quite focus on her siblings’ words. already, her brain was going to worst case scenario about what could have possibly happened to their father. it wasn’t that difficult to picture. she unfortunately had the memory of being very little, walking into their living room to find her father passed out surrounded by whiskey bottles. she remembered being so scared and no amount of reassurance from her mother could convince her that he wasn’t dead. her chest tightened at the thought, wondering if he’d found himself in yet another drunken stupor and gotten harmed somehow. had he been driving, was he alone —

     “ he’s getting married. ”

     what ? 

     slowly, the brunette blinked as she processed the news. so, it wasn’t something terrible after all. it was good news in fact, even if a bitter taste formed in her mouth. married. . . what a concept. “ oh. . . ” she sounded out the simple word. both sunhi and jihoon were watching her closely, so jinnie paid mind not to reveal too much on her face. chewing anxiously on the inside of her cheek, her head bobbed up and down in something that vaguely resembled a nod. “ uh, good for him. ”

      “ you’re too nice, jin. ” the fury was clear in her brother’s voice, but she struggled to match it. she was too stunned to feel anything else. her default had always been happiness even on the days it was hard to be. her siblings had anger and everything else in spades but her ? she was supposed to be the happy one. she should be happy for him. . . right ? “ it’s just us, you can say it like it is: he’s a fucking asshole. ”

    “ jihoon. ” this time, sunhi’s voice was tinged with exhaustion and pain. jinnie’s heart broke to hear it from her impossibly strong sister. she couldn’t imagine how her siblings were feeling. while memories of her father were fragmented and sporadic, the two of them had a sizable amount of time with him. they’d been twelve and ten when he’d left without even a goodbye one night. she would never forget jihoon calling him constantly, leaving him voicemails begging him to come home. he didn’t stop until the voicemail inbox was filled to the brim, and then soon enough, the number itself was disconnected. sunhi used to wear the watch he’d left behind every night to bed even though it was dirty and broken, all because she missed him so much. jinnie was sure this hurt them more than it could possibly hurt her and yet, they were concerned for her. it didn’t feel fair.

     “ what ? why are we acting like we owe him shit ? we’re not obligated to feel happy— ”

     “ please don’t fight. ” jinnie’s words were no louder than a whisper, but they halted her brother’s rant in its tracks. the bickering ceased and two pairs of worried eyes looked at her through the screen. “ he doesn’t deserve a lifetime of unhappiness. no one does. it’s okay. ”

     “ he replaced us, jin. ”

     “ what do you mean ? ”

     sunhi let out a pained sigh, and jinnie realized that the marriage news was only the tip of the iceberg. whatever her siblings were about to tell her next, that was going to be the devastating blow. “ his fiancé. . . has a daughter. ” her heart sunk a little. “ she seems really close with him. ”

     “ like, a young one ? ” she couldn’t and wouldn’t villainize a little girl for wanting a father in her life. she’d once been that little girl herself. still, the irony of the situation was a bit sickening. jinnie thought he didn’t want a family. wasn’t that why he’d left them high and dry to begin with ? she’d spent her entire lifetime craving a good father for the three of them, for a good spouse for her umma — and he’d decided long ago that he wasn’t the man for the job. things couldn’t have possibly changed so easily for him.

     “ no, nini. she’s, uh, she’s about your age. ”

     for some reason, that was the reveal that made her heart sink to her stomach. he replaced us, jin. that was what jihoon had said. you, that must have been the word he’d really wanted to say. he replaced you. a stony expression in place, jinnie immediately swiped out of the facetime to head to her instagram. her siblings’ faces hovered in the corner as she swiped wildly through the app.

      “ jin, don’t— ”

      “ a deep dive is only going to hurt you. ”

     the youngest ignored sunhi and jihoon, perhaps for the first time in her life. her chest felt too tight to respond and all she could focus on was confirming this news herself. manicured fingers tapped on her ‘blocked users’ list. her father’s account was the only one there, one that she’d blocked nearly a year ago after his phone calls. swiftly, the user was unblocked and jinnie immediately jumped to his page to look at his recent posts.

     they were beautiful, both the future wife and daughter. together, they were a picture perfect family; in countless pictures, the three of them posed happily at cozy dinners at home or on vacation abroad. her father seemed the healthiest he’d ever been, not the gaunt and angry man that lived in her memories. and the look of pride in his eyes whenever he looked at his new daughter was palpable. despite the voice in her head screaming for her not to, jinnie opened the most recent post: the girl, dressed in a graduation cap and grown, beamed into the camera while her father stood next to her. the caption was a simple one — my sunflower graduated from college today.

     sunflower. haebaragi.

      haebaragi, that’s what he used to exclaim after jinnie showed off the new dance moves she learned from the tv. haebaragi, that’s what he used to whisper on the nights she couldn’t fall asleep. haebaragi, that’s what he called her not even a year ago when he begged her for money and talked about how much he needed her. 

     liar.

     “ jinnie. ” 

     he’s a liar.

     “ breathe, jin. it’s okay. ”

     jinnie couldn’t speak, couldn’t reassure her siblings that this wasn’t a panic attack. this was something new, something unfamiliar and quite dark that it didn’t even feel like it belonged in her body. all she could do is scream liar, liar, liar in her head repetitively. her eyes prickled with warm tears. her phone trembled in her hand. but it wasn’t just sadness that seemed to engulf her entire being. no, no. for once in her life, park yunjin felt rage.

     “ what did i do ? ” the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “ what did i do that was so wrong ? ”

      “ you didn’t do anything, ni— ”

     “ clearly, i did ! ” her voice raising was a shock to them all, even herself. she wasn’t one to yell, to erupt in anger. it didn’t feel comfortable but it felt like the only way to relieve the pressure that seemed to press to her chest like a goddamn anvil. “ he was okay being you guys’ dad but then— i came along and suddenly, he wanted out of the picture. he could have picked any other name to call her, but he called her that. why ? ”

     it was obvious that sunhi and jihoon didn’t have an answer to her question. truthfully, jinnie didn’t even know if she actually wanted an answer. logic had all but been thrown out of the window and right now, she simply felt overpowered by emotions. questions that she’d wanted to ask ever since she was a little girl poured out of every crack in her body and she’d run out of tape to temporarily keep it from leaking. she now felt everything that she tried so hard not to feel.

     “ how is it fair, ” her voice cracked on the words as a hand rubbed across her face, trying to rid herself of the tears. “ that i only get to be a chapter in his life but he got the power to write my entire story ? ”

     sunhi’s face crumbled in that very moment and suddenly, she was crying. jihoon’s arm immediately wrapped around her shoulders but she shook her head, pushing him off as she muttered: “ i can’t, i’m sorry. . . i can’t. ” and in a blink of the eye, her sister had disappeared off camera. he frowned, clearly torn between which sister to comfort first. after a moment of contemplation, the oldest stayed in front of the screen, eyebrows worriedly watching jinnie. “ jin — ”

     “ i have to go, oppa. i’m sorry. ” jinnie replied abruptly. 

     before jihoon could respond, she hung up the facetime.

     it didn’t come to much of a surprise to her that he tried calling her right back, this time on his own phone. like sunhi’s contact photo, his featured a baby picture of the two of them. however, jinnie didn’t smile at the sight. she simply pressed the red button to reject the call.

     jihoon tried again, and she rejected it. again. then numbly, she shut the phone off completely. the silence didn’t make her feel better. still, her heart pounded in her chest, echoing in her ribcage in a painful, uncomfortable way. the tears that fell felt like they were being ripped out of her. jinnie hated the feeling. she wanted it to stop, but it felt like it was never-ending. it felt like now that she’d gotten introduced to anger; it was all she could be. shaking hands grabbed the pillow next to her, pressing the surface to smother her face so that she could scream. and scream, she did — for who knows how long. she screamed for the girl she’d once been, for the woman she was now, and for every version in between. she screamed until her throat was raw and she knew she had to stop, unless she wanted to explain to valentines why they wasted the hard-earned money on a hoarse performance that night. once there were no more tears to cry and no more nonsense to scream, jinnie dropped the pillow back to its original place. her body moved faster than her brain could process as her hands reached out for her trusty journal on the nightstand. the notebook, filled to the brim with melancholic lyrics and stream of consciousness thoughts, was never too far away from her. and in that moment, she couldn’t have been more grateful for that fact; jinnie needed somewhere to write down every furious thought crossing her mind right now.

     she wasn’t sure how long she wrote for. her mind was blank with any awareness other than what was on the page in front of her. even when her hand started to cramp, jinnie kept writing, pouring every word onto the paper as if the pen was made from the very blood that flowed through her heart. it wasn’t long before exhaustion slowed down her movements until finally, a piece of her now lived in the pages of her notebook and all of her emotions crashed down into fatigue.

     in the end, jinnie dozed off in a fetal position with the journal clutched to her chest, the latest entry stained with fresh tear stains and ink splotches. 

                                          hate to see you with anot someone new                                     i wish the best put a curse on her and you                              ain’t no turning looking back, now you’re dead and gone

[eclair16]

001 Secrets

A light breeze brushed through your hair as you strolled through the streets of Kakariko. It was already late afternoon; earlier you had helped bring Cado's chickens to their coop. This was by no means the easiest task. That's why your hair was messy, some branches were hanging out, and your knees were full of scars. But you loved helping out in the village and making yourself useful, since you were currently just a drag in the war against the calamity. However, you wanted to change that.

"Hey there!" called an all-too-familiar voice. It was Tabari, your best friend. "Hello Ari, you're late, how was training?" you asked while giving the sheika boy a quick hug. His chestnut brown eyes lit up as he excitedly showed you his new tricks. "That looks very cool, your skills are improving so fast" you said impressed, this was followed by a sad sigh. You formed a fist "do you think I'll be that good someday?". Tabari put a hand on your shoulder "Of course, let's go to the mountain and I'll teach you everything right away! If you had a good teacher like me, you would already be better than me" he laughed.

After you both went into the small adjacent forest, you knelt down in front of a large stone, you slowly moved it aside and took out the wooden chest hidden under it. Inside was a bow with matching arrows. Impa strictly forbade you to fight or to practice, as well as to leave the village. "Let's see if I can still do it" the you giggled, "in the last few days we never had the chance to practice, we used to do it soon every day".

"And another 10 points for the bow champion" you celebrated cheerfully. Tabari looked annoyed, perhaps because it was the eighteenth time in a row that he had lost. "Let's stop for today and start sword fighting" he suggested and took two sticks of equal length, one he gave to you and the other he kept for himself. "Come on, 18 is a stupid number, 20 would have been much nicer" you rolled her eyes and put yourself in a fighting pose. "One, two and three" the white haired one yelled as he charged, indicating a punch. You saw through the tactic immediately and tripped the boy, but before you could do that you were already on the ground. The tip of the stick scratched at your neck.

"You're good, but way too slow" laughed Tabari, extending a hand to you. You took it gratefully and patted the dirt off your clothes. After stowing the utensils back in the chest him and you slowly walked back to the village. Tabari had his hands clasped behind his head and was chewing on a stalk of grass. "You look like an old billy goat!" you teased him. Before he could say anything back you continued "Sooo it's 1 to 1, so I guess we'll decide the game in a race to see who gets to the pond first!". "That's not fair!" yelled Ari, but you had already started running.

When he arrived, he saw you already leaning against a tree, waiting for him. "You're good but way too slow" you grinned. Out of breath, he just laughed in response and dropped to the ground. It had gotten dark and the warm lights were shining, setting the scene perfectly for the statue, which illustrates an angel. Silence reigned, but it was not at all uncomfortable. Tabari's expression had softened, but there was something on his mind, as if he wanted to say something.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked softly. Your e/c observed every little detail of his face. "Nothing" he replied with a little pause. "There is something off about you, don't fool me" yousaid energetically. "It's just..., I'll be gone for a while, I was ordered to deliver a pair of goods to Lurelin Village" he explained. Your pupils widened, you had never seen him like this before. You took his hand and gave it a squeeze, "Can't I come with you?". His voice trembled as he answered her "you know that's not possible".

"Why not?" you protested, "You, Impa and even Paya are hiding something from me, why can't I leave the village? I don't even belong here, who knows, maybe I would find my family". You already regretted your words, but you had wanted to point these things out for a long time. And something in Tabaris tone of voice triggered your feelings towards your inner conflict.

"Your time will come and now you have to go home, Impa is probably worried about where you are" said the boy as he stood up. "No why don't you answer me, why can't I come with you? Am I too weak, tell me!" tears ran down your cheeks as you stood up and looked questioningly at your best friend. He cupped his hand around your cheek and said seriously "You are not too weak Y/n...". Without another word he left her and disappeared into the darkness.

Confused and a little bit angry you walked back home. You climbed up the stairs, step by step, trying to be a quiet as possible. Luckily you made it to your bed without getting in trouble, well for now. "Why are they so secretive about me leaving the village? I mean of course the calamity is dangerous but I can't even go to Hateno. It can't be because I'm too bad at protecting myself, since children that are a way younger than me are joining the travels too" you overthink while looking at your left hand.

You always had wanted to know where you got that sign from, it was a downturned triangle, which was in the center of the back of your hand. You always had to cover it up, when you were  outside the house because Impa said so, as a child you would always question it but at sometime you forgot about it.

After not coming up with an answer to all your questions, you decided to sleep. Gently your e/c eyes closed and you fell asleep.

___

[midnightchronicles87]

The Gem and the Cat

It was just supposed to be a regular job. Go in, acquire the drive, and take it to his employer. An average day for Geocache. This day is anything but average.

It’s dark when he arrives at a back door of the large estate that he was told was the pickup spot. He was to meet with another bot for the hand off, a lady named Shaderaider. He thinks the name is interesting. I hope I’m not late, that would be so embarrassing. He thinks as he fidgets with his hands, waiting for something to happen.

A moment later, a small dark blue motorcycle alt drops from the second floor balcony. She stares at Geocache with piercing blue rings for optics for several seconds, eyeing him over.

“Are you the transport they hired?” She prompts, quick and to the point.

Geo smiled. “That’s me. I’m Geocache, and I suppose you must be Shaderaider.” He held out his hand for a handshake, but it was smacked away.

“We don’t have time for such pleasantries. We have a job to do, and it must be done fast. So shut up and let’s get going.” Shaderaider replies dismissively, voice cold and calculating, her cat-like ears twitching as she looks into the distance, arms crossed. A second later she grabs his hand, putting the disc into it. “Protect this with your life, Geocache.” She snarled, that last word having a sharp bite in the enunciation.

“There’s no need to be so harsh, I know how to do my job.” The orange and yellow plane chuckled, walking forward after stashing his cargo. Shaderaider transforms and speeds off, causing Geocache to also transform and follow suit, though slower.

Several silent minutes pass, and it’s only when they’re out of the neighborhood that they stop and Shade transforms. Geo does the same.

“Why have we stopped? Did something happen?” He asks, looking down at his traveling companion with a tilted head, and head fins at two different angles, with a confused expression.

The only response is an impatient huff and narrow eyed stare before she speaks. “Why are you so slow? We need to get this damn disc out of Iacon before the rich glitch finds out it’s missing. You should know the importance of efficiency in these sorts of matters.” she hisses.

“I’ll have you know that my speed is the perfect speed for carrying delicate cargo. I’ve been doing this for millenia, “ his eyebrows shoot up and he takes a half step back, ''and WAIT, did you STEAL?!” he shouts in surprise. Shaderaider facepalms, dragging her clawed hand down her face with an eye roll.

“Keep your voice down. Yes I stole it. That’s what we’re here to do, you should already know that. I mean, you’re posing as a transport.” she states, matter of factly. Geocache tenses up, his plating tight against his frame.

“No one told me I would be smuggling something! I was just told to take this disc from that place to the edge of town. No one told me I would be doing anything illegal!” He yelps, shaking from head to foot. Oh no, oh no, oh Primus why. I’m going to get in SO much trouble, he thinks, his mind racing. “Am I a CRIMINAL?” He cries.

His companion shakes her head in disbelief, before sighing angrily, “Yes, yes you are, now let’s go. And you will tell no one about any of this.” Geo feels an odd sensation in his tank at that last sentence, but he ignores it. He takes a deep breath, which does nothing to calm his nerves, and nods, still shaken. Shaderaider rolls her optics again before turning on her heel, transforming, and starting off down a side street. Geocache nervously follows behind her, fidgeting the entire way.

“Hey, Shaderaider, would you please wait up?” He calls a moment later. She turns to the side to come to a stop.

“What is it now?” She impatiently replies.

“Can we walk at least part of the way? I don’t think I could fly like this. The alleys are pretty narrow after all, not good for wings, and I somehow doubt you want me out of your sight.” the plane sheepishly pleads, his hands drawn close to his chest, index fingers tapping together. The motorcycle transforms and stares at him with a blank expression. She mulls it over for a moment, and after a look of dismay and silently questioning what led her to be stuck with this fool, deeply sighs.

“Alright, I suppose we could walk, but it better be quiet, and if anyone asks, you’re carrying average cargo, and I’m merely keeping you company. Got it?” She answers with a slight snarl and a cold glare. Geocache relaxes a little at this, and puts on a weary smile.

“Crystal clear. Thank you ma’am, and I promise not to bug you with small talk, much.” He chuckles slightly, before walking forward through the alley. The spy follows his lead, needing to speed walk to keep up with the transport she’s stuck with.

An hour goes by of Geo being told where to turn and when to duck out of sight of the main street, and many groans of frustration from Shade when he flinches at every little noise. They’re about to turn into another alley when Shaderaider halts in her tracks and puts a hand up to stop her companion.

She turns to him and sighs, “We can’t take this street, they’re doing construction and would ask us what we were doing coming through from the alley side. Too suspicious. We need to take the main street, it’s the only other way through this area. An unfortunate detour but a necessary one.”

Geocache blinks. “Ok, lead the way. I don’t do much ground travel around here, y’know, plane and all, so this has been quite informative.” I can act normal. I do it all the time. He thinks, taking a breath. I got this. I’m just carrying my usual cargo and not doing anything suspicious, just gotta keep telling myself that. They step out onto the main street and keep walking. He is temporarily dazzled by all the lights illuminating the way, it never fails to amaze him. Shaderaider just keeps her head down and strides ahead, weaving around other bots as needed.

Geo breaks out of his trance and notices he was left behind, mutters incoherently for a second, and dashes to find his companion, going “Excuse me, pardon me, sorry about that.” as he shuffles around bots, who glance annoyedly at him before moving. It takes a moment, but he catches up to the spy and taps her on the shoulder.

“Hey, aren’t we supposed to stick together? I’m sorry for stopping unnecessarily, but you didn’t have to run off like that.” He says, a tad exasperated. Shade turns around and curtly replies,

“Oh, sorry. I’m used to being by myself and weaving through crowds as fast as possible. I didn’t even notice you’d stopped.”

“Heh, it’s ok. Though I’m kinda surprised you’d forget I’m here, given my height and importance to this job after all.” He lightly teases, arising the slightest blush out of her. It quickly goes away and they continue on their journey. The duo go a few blocks before turning into the alleys again. This time Shaderaider is scanning the walls as they go down the alley. Geo looks at this with confusion.

“What are you doing, if I might ask?” He inquires, innocently.

“I’m looking for a way onto the rooftops. This is taking way too long for my and most likely our employer’s liking, and you said you can’t really fly in these alleys. So if we go to the rooftops, you can fly and I go much faster. Win win.” She states, not taking her optics from her scanning.

A moment later she spots a service ladder a few feet away and darts over to it. She climbs the ladder with great speed, and beckons Geocache to follow her once she reaches the halfway point. He does as instructed with slight hesitation, as the pit in his tank grows from the shady activity. I don’t like this, I don’t like this, what if we get caught? This is bad. His thoughts race as he climbs the ladder behind Shade, trembling slightly. His trembles shake the ladder a little and make it rattle under both their weights and his nerves.

“Can you quit shaking?! You’ll give us away!” Shaderaider hisses just loud enough for him to hear from the near top of the ladder. Geo stops and takes several deep breaths, calming him a little to stop his quivering, though it does nothing to slow his racing spark.

“Ok, sorry about that. I’m just freaking out because I’m part of a heist and no one told me.” He reminds her as he finishes clambering up the ladder, dusting himself off at the top. “That ladder had quite the dust layer. Must not be well maintained.” He muttered under his breath. Once he arrives on the roof, Shaderaider looks him over, before nodding with a “Hm.”

After a second of silence, she motions for the two of them to get a move on, and starts off in the direction they were originally heading. Geocache ruffles his plating before transforming with a little flourish and taking off. He makes sure to keep his companion in his sight, but takes no time in getting up to speed, simultaneously relaxing more at the sensation of flying above it all. As he gets back to his usual method of doing his job, it almost slips his mind that he’s doing anything wrong.

Geo periodically looks down to make sure he’s still following the motorcycle, which he is, until she stops short and ducks behind a structure on one rooftop. He sees this and swoops down to inspect the situation, transforming and landing with a soft thud before immediately being pulled behind the structure with Shaderaider, a squeak escaping him at both the sudden movement and sudden contact.

“Shaderaider? What’s wro-”

“Quiet!” She whisper shouts, covering his mouth with her hand, her optics narrowed as she gazes around the corner, “Someone heard me up here, now we must wait until they leave. Try not to give us away big guy.” Geo has a moment of that same feeling in his tank from earlier in the evening, but it is quickly replaced by a shiver as he remembers the circumstances. He can’t help but tremble as he tries to stay still and quiet as he crouches behind the obstruction. Shade removes her hand and returns it to her side.

Peeking over the top, he spots a resident of the building glancing around. They seem to be a sports car of some sort, but it’s hard to tell in the low light of the dark city canopy. Geo can barely make out a grimace as he ducks back down when the bot’s head turns in his direction. His sparkbeat quickens as the duo wait a tense few minutes before they hear footsteps echoing down stairs, the bot deciding it was nothing and going back inside. Shaderaider waits a few moments before signaling Geocache that he can move. He sighs in relief and goes to stand, but bangs his head on a pole, knocking it and other objects off the structure with a loud clatter. Immediately the pair hear footsteps swiftly coming back up the stairs.

“Oh slag.” He groans, his head fins pinned back as he prepares for a confrontation. I hope I can talk my way out of this, I’d really hate for there to be a fight. He takes a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself for conversation as Shaderaider face palms. The same bot throws the door open and looks at them with an accusatory glare.

“What are you two doing here?” They bark with a scowl and crossed arms, tapping their foot.

“I-I’m so sorry to bother you sir, I’m just transporting cargo across town, expedited delivery, and I got drowsy so I flew too low and crashed into this.” He gestures at the mess on the floor, then looks at Shaderaider. “My friend here was supposed to talk to me to keep me awake, but she forgot. Again, I’m so sorry for disturbing you, I’ll just clean up the mess and we’ll be on our way.” He shakily explains with a clearly forced smile, as he nervously chuckles, waving his hands in front of him. The bot looks unimpressed, and turns to peer at Shade, who puts on a similar facade to Geo, nodding to confirm his story.

The bot looks suspiciously between the two, but after a moment shrugs and replies, “Okaaaay, but make it quick and get out of here before I change my mind about reporting you.” before turning on their heels and leaving. A moment of silence passes as the footsteps again fade out.

“Haaaaah,” Geo gasps, letting out a breath he’d been unknowingly holding, before quickly cleaning up the mess he’d made, still shaking. After he’s finished they move on to the next roof, where Shade then jumps and smacks him on the back of the head.

“What the PIT Geocache?! I told you to be quiet!” She scolds him with a growl. “Why can’t you follow simple instructions?!”

“I’m sorry! I tried, I just didn’t see those things there, and I talked our way out of it! Ack, I’m usually not this clumsy, it’s just this job is messing with my head.” He yelps as he rubs the back of his head, and then face palms. “I know I must be such a bother to you, but I assure you I’m not normally like this.” Geo sighs, dejected. Shaderaider looks at her companion as he fidgets with an annoyed stare, before a thoughtful look replaces it. After a moment, her face temporarily softens for just a second, before she rolls her eyes. She’d better get paid extra for putting up with these shenanigans.

“Fine, I accept your apology, but this can’t keep happening. Fortunately for the both of us, we’re only a couple blocks from our destination. If we can get that far without any more incidents, I won’t tell our employers of your incompetence. Deal?” She extends her hand. Geocache’s optics light up like tiny suns and he smiles as he shakes her hand.

“Deal!” He exclaims. Upon their deal, the pair transform and take off, the only sound being the noises of the street below, and their engines.

It’s just before sunrise when they arrive at the city limits. A figure is there to greet them with a pair of guards at their back.

“Ah, I see you arrived safely. Do you have the goods?” They prompt. Shaderaider and Geocache transform and step forward. Shade turns and gives Geo a look of ‘I got this.’ He simply nods and looks on.

Turning back she says, “Yes, we have the merchandise, as requested.” She lightly elbows Geo, who produces his cargo and gives it to his employer, saying nothing.

“Yes, good. You will receive your payment shortly. Good job, this usually takes our agents multiple solar cycles, but you two got it done in one night. I’m impressed.” They purr.

“T-Thank you.” Geocache mutters. Primus I’m being so unprofessional. This is the worst. He chastises himself. Just gotta get through this interaction, then I can go home and never think about this again.

He looks at Shade, who, for the first time that night, smiles as she fires back, “I do pride myself on my efficiency, it is my job after all.” Geo feels oddly warm at the sight of that smile.

“Of course, of course. You may go, Geocache, you were never here.” The bot says, lowering their voice for that last part.

“Of course. Goodbye Shaderaider.” He says before swiftly transforming and flying away, contemplating the night’s events.

[lavidalunaa]

The Bird and the Butterfly - Issue 0: Prolouge

Hello hello! This is the prolouge to my Dick Grayson X OC fanfic I’ve been working on for some time now. This will be a long running series that will eventually contain smut, and dark themes so 18+

The prolouge and the first chapter are basically just some world building and an introduction to my OC. The following chapters are much more fanfic-y and contain more DC characters. 

CW: gun violence, kidnapping, death of a parent

Cross posed to AO3 

GOTHAM - 18 YEARS AGO - 3:15 AM

I still remember the day my life was taken from me.

I was five. Or maybe six? Memories from my childhood tend to bleed together. Hell if I knew when it was. The events of that night will be burned into my mind for the rest of my existence. I’m still unsure if I ever recovered from what was lost. My innocence. My sense of safety. My childhood. My mom .

Everything was black. My hands and feet were bound and my body lying limply on cold, wet concrete. The air smelled like wood and pollen as if I were in a lush forest. The air around me was hot and humid, almost artificially so. My mind was hazy. Nothing made sense as if I had been dreaming.

Where am I? What’s happening? My mind raced. The last thing I remembered from that night was mom sitting on the end of my bed reading me my favourite story until I fell asleep.

Where’s mama? She would know what was going on, she would untie me and she would save me from my nightmare. But when I tried to shout for her, I realized my mouth was taped shut. This is when I finally started to panic. I jerked against my restraints, screams muffled in my throat as I thrashed against the pavement. The only thought on my mind was I want my mama.

A door in the distance was thrust open with great force that the noise echoed longer in my mind than it did in the large open room. Suddenly there was a blinding light. I instinctively shut my eyes but it wasn't enough to stop my pupils from burning. As I came to, I realized I was indeed surrounded by trees and vegetation. A large open space complete with floor-to-ceiling windows and a glass roof. I was in a greenhouse.

“Well look who's finally awake. I was starting to worry about you little one” an unfamiliar voice cooed.

In front of me stood a large man in a strange black and white mask. He wore black body armour from head to toe and his hands were covered by black leather gloves. Beside him stood another man in matching attire, next to him stood my mother. Stood was the wrong word, she was held up by her scalp, her feet just barely touching the floor as she dangled in front of me.

Her hair was wet. Her muscles were limp, and her face was drained of life. She was dressed in the same silk nightgown from earlier that night only now it was torn and stained with blood. Her dark skin was covered in deep purple bruises. The only thing that told me she was alive was the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she barely managed to breathe. The man holding her up tossed her onto the concrete next to me and she coughed as if all the air in her lungs was being knocked out of her.

What did they do to her? What were they going to do to me? More importantly, why was any of this happening? I couldn't make sense of my situation. All I knew was we were in danger.

“You’re a cute little thing,” the first man said, crouching down to look me in the eyes. His hand grazed my cheek as hot tears finally started to fall.

“Don't touch her!” My mother’s voice was quiet, hoarse and exhausted.

The man chuckled. “This bothers you?” He mocked as he continued to drag his filthy gloved hand down my face. My mother let out a groan at his action. As if she was in pain from the mere sight of his hand on my face.

“Now if that piece-of-shit husband of yours didn’t run off with our boss’s merchandise none of us would be here,” he sighed as if he was bored of this. He pulled a knife out of god-knows-where and slowly brought it to my face. “Now let's see if you scream as loud as your mama”

As if she suddenly mustered all the strength left in her battered body my mother let out a war cry as she pushed herself onto her feet. She lunged toward the man with the knife, grabbing ahold of his hand and trying to keep the weapon away from me. She and the knifeman shoved against each other in a fight for power. In a last-ditch effort, my mother bit his forearm to get him to let go. The knife clattered to the ground and slid across the slick concrete.

“You crazy fucking bitch!” he yelled. He shoved her over, knocking her on her back as he stood up and towered over both of us. I saw him reach for something strapped to his body armour. Before I had time to process-

BANG.

I watched as what little life remained in my mother poured out onto the concrete. I wanted to scream but my lungs betrayed me. My entire body froze in place. Mama.

“Dude, hostages are no use to us dead,” the other man scolded.

“We still have the kid,” said my mother’s killer with a shrug. “She was starting to piss me off.”

My stomach turned as if I were about to vomit. They were talking about her as if she was just some pest as if her life meant nothing. The panic overtook my body. I felt like I was on fire and I was numb at the same time. They shot my mom. He murdered my mother. I couldn’t breathe, it felt as if every function of my body failed all at once. I’m going to die.

Just as I was about to pass out the glass ceiling shattered and a shadow descended from the sky. A shadow in the shape of a bat.

[targcryns]

crucify me anyway | pack

"well, well," malarie exclaimed, calling attention to her presence in the hall, "fancy meeting all of you here."

trytas, at the head of his cluster of siblings, stopped and turned to face the approaching hale sisters. eira's hadmaiden, fei, trailed a few steps behind them, her head bowed as it always was in the presence of company. wryly, trytas had to wonder how she got anything done when she was so afraid to look up from the ground. he kindly pulled his eyes away from her to greet the approaching royal sisters. etiquette dictated that he lowered his head, too, but he'd spent enough time with the sisters over the years to know that they'd much rather he look them in the eye. still, he bowed his head respectfully. "your highnesses," he greeted, holding out an arm for eira, as malarie slipped her arm through lenore's, as if they were old friends and not two pawns in a centuries-old feud. "you both look lovely this afternoon."

"no need to fish for information, sir targaryen, i only know as much as you do," malarie teased. there was a playful disposition about her, one that never seemed to let up, even in the face of tension and ire. trytas had seen for himself how red her father could turn when he screamed at her for her lack of orthodox; he'd seen, just as well, how malarie lounged and smirked in the face of such loud disapproval. her gown dragged behind her on the ground as they traversed the corridors, passing by the open windows that blessed them with golden sunlight. "all i know is that his majesty has decided his competent daughters can handle security matters now." she met lenore's eyes then, a brief shadow passing through her gaze. "he says to follow the gods' law, if we can't pass our own judgement."

trytas hummed, but didn't comment. the gods' law was an old concept, one far older than either freya or lexise would care to study, though not one that either himself or lenore would be unfamiliar with. it was, simple and plain, murder; to kill whoever posed a threat to the kingdom, regardless of who they were or what the threat was. it was archaic and trytas much liked to believe that they had progressed beyond such measures, but it didn't necessarily surprise him that the king seemed to find it viable, still.

another moment passed before malarie spoke again. "it was the argents," she said, her tone deceptively light. "they called for this meeting."

trytas looked over at her in surprise. trailing behind her brother, lexise tipped her head in confusion. a lot of what was being said flew over her head. she knew nothing of a gods' law or the significance of the argents calling for an audience with the council. though, if she recalled correctly, the hales were historically the only ones who called for such unions. "why?" she asked curiously.

malarie shrugged as if unbothered. "isn't that the question, sweet?" as they approached the looming double door leading to the throne room, the guards stationed in front of it stepped to the side to pull the doors open for them. trytas let his arm slip gracefully from eira's and allowed the princesses to enter first, then the targaryens, and fei last. as was custom, malarie sat in the king's seat, her sister in the queen's, and he and lenore took up positions on either side of them, while his younger sisters joined the martins in the ring around the ring around the room. fei, ever the traditional servant, stood in the shadows of the room, prepared to race forward if she was needed but otherwise making herself invisible. a quick glance through the room revealed everyone else, exactly where they were to be. all of the representatives from the families of the court: boyds, aenins, maes, vhassos, larkes, porters, martins.

the targaryens were the second highest power in the kingdom, but the families gathered here were all limportant. they all knew what no one else did.

from his spot beside eira, trytas let his eyes fall on the six people kneeling in the center of the room. with his nose, it was all too easy to pick up the scent of seawater clinging to them, just as readily as the scent of blood. one of the six, the enticingly beautiful girl with dark skin and furious eyes, had a cloth shoved so far into her mouth that it was obviously impairing her breathing, despite her stubborn glare and refusal to show vulnerability. beyond that, another cloth was wrapped around to keep it in place, tied so tightly that it would leave bruises. a little further down the line, the long-haired brunette had gone remarkably pale and seemed to be struggling to stay awake. the scent of water clung to her more so than any of them, and he realized after another moment that she must've been a mermaid to smell that way. a mermaid, so far from the water.

trytas kept his mouth shut. the argents were the protectors of the kingdom and it was their duty to do what would keep the princesses safe. it was not his place to question how they restrained the captives, humane or not.

behind the pirates, the argent sisters stood, isabeau a half step behind her elder sister. trytas had very little doubt that they weren't the ones who'd apprehended these pirates; gabrielle, as far as he knew, had never been one for such cruelty. but she would inherit the argent legacy and mantle. whether she was responsible for this or not, she was the one who'd have to explain it to the court. and isabeau was nothing if not faithful to her older sister.

"oh, gabby," malarie cooed, almost a purr in its quiet intimacy, remarkably informal for such an occasion. "what pretty gifts you've brought me today." she smiled, almost catlike, as she addressed the argent heir. "is it our anniversary, love? i fear i didn't get you anything."

malarie hale was remarkable, aurelia thought from the sidelines. her dedication to making everything a joke was one for the ages. it was really no wonder her father cursed her name so violently.

[bigtopveggie]

❤️ @akaisentouki​​. 

💃 Let's boogie the night away! NONVERBAL RP STARTERS Pull my muse onto a dance floor/up to dance

“ S―Senpai―――?! ”

November 3rd is Hakaze-senpai’s birthday, and a small, fun party was organized. Turns out from what Midori briefly heard, after the AtoZ collaboration, Morisawa and Hakaze had become closer friends, thus Chiaki being invited ... and dragging Midori away as his plus one. At first, he did not agree, and the Ryusei Green did not remember why he suddenly went along, but he figured it was just a classic Captain moment, where he had been so convincingly pushy.

It was surprisingly fine, with everyone invited being nice, and the food being good ... that is until after the birthday presents being opened, the music was amped up with the room’s dancefloor section being lit up. The lights went down and everyone cheered as the numerous idols jumped in to dance as the spotlight colors blinked to the beat.

As for Midori, he remained on the side, not entirely thrilled by the idea ... that is until an arm grabbed him and pulled him in the middle, and a certain Captain started twirling in front of him, taking his hands to encourage him to have fun.

“ W―we dance for a living d―do we really have to during a br― ”

He cut himself short, watching the other brightly smile at him, letting out a heartfelt laugh as he called out to him with his obnoxious voice. Takamine ! He looked so happy ... yet the whole time, Midori could not help but wonder which part of Morisawa wished for him in particular to be him, or was it because they just happened to walk on each others at the time. If it had been Shinkai-senpai or Tetora-kun, would it have been the same ? How much did the Ryusei Red held back from truly having fun for having to keep up with his introverted self ? ... somehow the fact that while dancing, Chiaki never stopped looking at him erased all his doubts. So did Midori reach out and swung his legs, arms and hips to the rock beat, bringing his long legs together as he made a smooth three sixty pirouette.

They did dance for a living, there probably rarely was a dancefloor so full of skill and personality. Idols cheered one another as the dancing brought them closer, and Midori chuckled back, losing himself in the beat, not unlike when he was on a Live. Only this time, this Live ... it was just for them, and the people they cared about. His anxiety stopped racing, and for a fleeting moment, losing himself to the music, everything felt right. And when he had taken all in, he looked back at Chiaki, who had eventually turned his attention to others momentarily, just like he did ... only Midori wished otherwise, but was not meek enough to hold back.

A strong hand reached for Morisawa’s waist, pulling him closer. Bright azures met the young man’s gaze, a hint of mischief on the junior’s face. A small silence, before a mutual understanding.

The two of them broke into duo moves, pure improvisation as they had danced together for so long, knew one another’s arsenal. Holding one another’s arm, twirling, striking a hero pose, before passing one another again. Midori’s steps had grown bolder, when focused on the fact that he was dancing for him, and, maybe for the first time in his life, his own smile, without even realizing, was as bright as his dearest senior. If Morisawa was the bright sun, Takamine was the aurora borealis : softer, gentler, but just as loving.

As this song neared its peak, the younger dared, his hand sliding onto the graduate’s waist once more, but this time more than for a message. He held in strong as he led for them to circle one another, shifting their position. Their hands held as they kept parting, still linked, and coming back together, a more intimate yet striking dance. And as the notes struck their final climax, Midori let out a humble laugh while he held onto Chiaki, pushing his body against his as he dipped the Captain, still chuckling while facing one another. So close he could see the small beads of sweat onto their forehead, and feel his hot breath on his cheeks.

There was a loud cheer, he heard his name a few times as congratulations : they were not the only one to have formed pairs, and the party ambiance had been perfect, letting everyone let out some steam. Midori took the few moments of pause to remain in place, taking in his senpai’s position and expression in. He was already blushing from the effort, his fluttering feelings buzzing into his chest.

“ Senpai, I― ” He cut himself. Oh, he was getting ahead of himself ; he cleared his throat, helping the other up on his feet before letting go and straightening his jacket. “ I ... am going to get a drink, if you also want one ... ”

[justauthoring]

Precious To Us [2]

In other words, you’re Seijoh’s manager.

This chapter, Oikawa’s fangirls.

A/N: Here it is! The second part! I had one person request an idea (thanks @minigranger) and I definitely plan on writing it soon but I love the trope of manager vs. fangirls that I can’t help myself. As usual, please send in ideas :)

Listen, Oikawa’s fangirls are mean.

They just are.

It doesn’t really matter to them that you’re a first year, if they’re supposed to be your seniors, they would probably still be bitches even if you were their seniors and in second/third year.

They seem to think Oikawa’s theirs, even though, of course, he isn’t and if asked, he definitely would deny.

And they see you as a threat.

A big, big threat.

Who gets to see Oikawa everyday? You. Who gets to see him practice every day? You. Who gets a front row to seat to every one of his games? You. And who does he flirt with? You.

It doesn’t matter if you reciprocate the flirting or not -- which of course, you don’t -- they’re jealous and they blame it all on you.

Honestly, the first month of managing is fine. 

Now that you know who Oikawa is and you’re around him more, you do notice the fangirls, but they don’t really bother you and you’re too focused trying to learn the ropes to really care about their constant presence. 

You know you’ve heard some of the other members, namely the third years, complain about them.

About how annoying and distracting they were when it came to practice, or just the mere fact that Oikawa seemed to revel in the attention and love.

You’ve heard them, but you don’t really say anything otherwise because they’ve never done anything to you so you don’t really care either or.

Besides, even if you do think it’s tad bit pathetic, you can’t deny they’re devoted and you guess, in some ways... good for them?

But when you don’t stop being manager, and the rest of the team, namely Oikawa, don’t get sick of you like they all expect them to, and a month passes and you seem to just be thriving, getting a long with everyone, and finally getting the hang of everything?

That’s when they attack.

You’re already late.

And even if you know none of the boys or even the coaches will be upset with you, you do like to be punctual and you absolutely hate being late. So, you’re rushing, practically sprinting through the halls as you try to gather your bearings and organize everything you need to.

You’re already thinking of what drills Oikawa will have the team do, and what you can do to help. Maybe you could bring up some of the notes you’ve made? You’re not a hundred percent on the terms, but Iwaizumi has been helping you, and you’re sure you’ve picked up on a few of the techniques and things you think the boys could improve on.

You didn’t want them to think you’re imposing, but this was the job of the manager wasn’t it? They always reminded you you were more then just a water girl, and that they greatly appreciated anything advice you had for them from an outsider point of view, so maybe--

Landing with a loud thud, a groan leaves your lips as you feel your chin smack against the concrete floor beneath you. It takes you a second to gather your bearings, baffled at how you were suddenly on the ground, and trying to ignore the pain at having bitten your own tongue. But the second you hear laughter, you realized exactly what had happened and your head turns around to stare at the three girls stood above you in bafflement.

They’re laughing at you, quite loudly and obvious mocking you, but your eyes narrow in bafflement when you realize you’re positive you’ve seen them before. You just can’t place your thumb on it. They’re not in your class, one of them doesn’t even seem to be in your year, and you don’t think you’d remember some random face you’d passed in the hall, so--

That’s right. You’ve seen them hanging around Oikawa before, and the one older girl had even snuck into practice one day.

Slowly pushing yourself to your feet, you move to gather your stuff, only for it to be kicked out of your grasp.

“What the--!”

“Listen.”

You blink when the older one, clearly the leader or whatever, is suddenly directly before you, barely a breaths away, glaring down at you.

“You need to quit being manager for Oikawa-san’s volleyball team.”

And your eyes widen, baffled, lips parting as you shake your head; “I don’t--”

“I think you perfectly understand,” the girl behind her sneers, eyes cold.

“We don’t like how close you were with Oikawa-san.”

“And we’re sure Oikawa-san’s sick of seeing your ugly face every day.”

You’re stunned silent. Honestly, you’re not really sure what to say.

“We’ll give you till the end of the week,” the head girl smiles, but it’s a sickly sweet, filling you with dread. “Okay?”

She doesn’t wait for you to respond before her and the other two are walking off, clearly proud of themselves if they way they walk and hold themselves is anything to go by.

It’s takes you five minutes to gather yourself before you start making your way to the gym again for practice.

Part of you wants to just skip and go home but you know the boys would be concerned, more then they probably already are given how late you are, and really, it would just cause more issues in the end anyways.

Besides, you’re never one to skip anyways.

You don’t cry. You’re not really sure why because you definitely want to, but the tears never come and then you’re suddenly in the gym and everyone's rushing towards you in concern, questions leaving their lips rapidly as to why you were so late.

You brush them off, and it almost works, before Iwaizumi takes notice of the dried blood on the corner of your lip that you’d regrettably missed when cleaning yourself up earlier and the scrape underneath your chin.

“What happened to your chin, Y/N? You’re bleeding.”

He steps towards you, but you brush him off.

“I just tripped is all. Bit my tongue.”

You smile and hope it’s enough to convince them, but even if Iwaizumi looks like he wants to argue, Oikawa’s already pulling him back onto the court.

“You’re so clumsy, Y/N-chan! You really do need to be more careful!”

Some of the boys laugh and you do too, forcing yourself to pretend like everything’s fine even though you can physically feel yourself shaking.

But even as he’s being dragged away, Iwaizumi is still eyeing you and you don’t let him grow anymore suspicious then you can tell he is. You send him a soft smile, and then turn, making your way over to the coach to see where you can help for the day.

And it continues on like that for week. 

By the next day, every seems to have forgotten you being late and only Makki makes a teasing comment about the cat themed bandaid on your chin to which you begrudgingly shove him away with a shrill “it’s the only ones we have!” and you seem more like yourself then you had the day before that by the second day, even Iwaizumi has relaxed.

By the end of the week, even he seems to have forgotten about it.

But you haven’t. 

And it being the end of the week has you scared.

Kindaichi seems to notice your weird behaviour in class, especially now that the two of you tend to stick together now that you’re acquainted. But you brush him off every time he asks, saying you just felt ill.

He seems to believe it fine.

Luckily for you, nothing happens.

You’re on edge all day expecting something to happen, but nothing ever does.

Aiko, the third year and clear ring leader of that little group, never approaches you. In fact, you don’t see her once all day, which that in itself isn’t odd since you’re in different years, but you had expected to see her lackies -- either Makoto, a first year like you, or even Nami, a second year.

But you don’t.

By the final bell, you’re relieved.

It was just a mindless threat. It didn’t mean anything clearly, and they had just been poking fun, and honestly you were fine with that -- so long as you didn’t have to deal with them again.

You’d just have to be more wary of the fangirls. Maybe they weren’t as kind as you thought you were, and clearly they thought you posed some kind of threat (even though you definitely didn’t) so you’d just keep it in mind and--

“I’m pretty sure we told you by the end of the week.”

It’s a harsh thud, you don’t fall to the ground like you did last time, but you do thud against the lockers which dig painfully into your back. And regrettably you let a small cry in response, which pales in comparison to the cry of pain that leaves your lips when one of them grab a chunk of your hair and tug, hard.

Pushing at the hands that grab at you, you spin, not surprise to see the same three as before, sneering down at you.

Aiko spits down at you. “Clearly you didn’t listen.”

“I’m not gonna just quit,” you whisper, feigning the confidence to speak up for yourself. Your eyes narrow up at her, even though your heart is racing madly against you chest, and shake your head adamantly. “I love managing the volleyball team, and it’s not even because of Oikawa-senpai! I love being will all the boys, and I won’t let you--!”

“You really are just a slut.”

You’re stunned silent, lips left parted.

“Listen, I gave you a week, you didn’t listen.” Aiko scoffs, shaking her head as she brushes her hair back, glaring down at you. “I’ll show you what happens when I don’t get my way.”

She strikes you hard, across the cheek, and naively, you think that’s it. You can handle some punches and kicks, because you really don’t want to give up the one thing that’s made you happy for the first time in a long time. Even as the hits continue, and your body starts to ache, you think,

I can handle this.

But still, you end up skipping practice that day. You blame it on the fact the fact that you just didn’t want to have to explain why you looked so battered and messed up, knowing this time no amount of lying was going to get you out of this one. Because, really, it wouldn’t just be Iwaizumi suspicious this time -- all the boys will be, and then they’ll probably talk to the coach and...

and, it’s just to much a fuss for you. So, you skip, sending a text to Oikawa explaining that you weren’t feeling well and you’d be back Monday and to please apologize on the coaches behalf for you.

But you don’t go back the next day.

When you open your locker the next Monday, your homework that you’d finished during lunch to previous day to get a head start is ruined. Completely and wholeheartedly ruined.

And when you glance around, the first thing you see is Makoto from across the hallway, smirking at you.

But you don’t have any proof.

So, you suck back the tears that threaten to fall, and sulk to your first class where you know the teacher will be less then pleased.

And of course she isn’t, but she simply sighs and tells you that if you don’t have it in by tomorrow, she’ll have to give you a failing grade. 

Embarrassed and upset, you walk to your seat, ignoring Kindaichi’s watchful gaze as you sink into your seat.

But it only gets worse from there.

The second class starts, a note is tossed onto your desk.

You eye, confused, glancing around for who threw it, only for everyone to be faced forward, before glancing briefly at Kindaichi’s whose watching your curiously.

Slowly, you open it.

Is it true you actually slept with all of the volleyball team?

Laughter echoes, but when you look up, there’s three girls staring at you, all mockingly.

Kindaichi leans forward, trying to grab the note but you pull it from his grasp, avoiding his gaze.

He cannot see that.

And when the class ends, you narrowly avoid Kindaichi who calls for you, rushing out of the class, only for someone to bump into you the second you make it out, shoving harshly into your shoulder.

“Slut.” The voice sneers.

Your lips part, and you glance up, feeling your vision blur, but when you glance around, you suddenly notice the looks everyone’s giving you, and the way they laugh and sneer at you.

But what really makes you break is when you turn, feeling like everyone’s against you, and find Kindaichi staring at you with parted lips, obviously confused, and you just can’t hold it back then, turning without another word, and running off.

The day continues like that, and after lunch, which you spent alone hidden in a bathroom stall, you see Iwaizumi and Oikawa ahead of you, smiling when they notice you.

They look as if they want to talk, but you know then you absolutely cannot like that happen, for multiple reasons, so you turn around quickly, running off in the opposite direction despite the way they call after you.

You don’t go back to practice like you said you would.

And neither do you Tuesday.

When Wednesday rolls around, and every laughs at you when you walk pass them in the halls, or sneers at you, or looks at you like you’re the most disgusting thing, you go to the office when you realize you can’t handle this any longer.

No matter how much you love being on the team and managing the boys. 

Little do you know, in class, Kindaichi notices the odd coloured paper in your hands and curiously, maybe even worriedly (because there’s a sinking feeling in his gut) peers over your shoulder as subtle as he can, lips parting when he reads the header.

Permission to quite a club form.

“I think Y/N’s going to quite the team.”

It’s the first words he says when he enters the club room that day, and it makes everybody pause.

Silence echoes, and slowly, unsurely, Yahaba shakes his head; “what-what are you talking about, Kindaichi? I thought Y/N said she just wasn’t feeling well, which is why--”

“I saw the form this morning,” Kindaichi shakes his head, “I know what I read.”

Oikawa shakes his head. “Y/N would’ve talked to us first if something was upsetting her. She wouldn’t just--”

“Haven’t you guys heard the rumours going around?”

It’s Kunimi who speaks this time, his voice the similar drawl it always is, but if you look at him close enough, it’s easy to tell that he’s concerned. Upset even. And he looks disgusted as he speaks, eyeing Kindaichi first, almost knowingly, before turning to the other boys.

Iwaizumi’s brows furrow; “what are you talk--”

“I think someone’s been bullying her,” Kindaichi frowns. “It started at the beginning of the week. Y/N came in with her homework ruined, which I thought was weird, because she always is so careful with her work and makes sure it’s done early. And then someone tossed this note onto her desk but she wouldn’t let me read it, and she wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me all class. Then, when class was over, people were... well--”

“There’s a rumour going around that’s she’s slept with all of us.”

It’s Kunimi who finishes it, Kindaichi’s face beet red, which quite a few of the boys mimic seconds later when Kunimi finishes.

But Oikawa? Oikawa just looks pissed.

“What?”

Kindaichi blanches, looking absolutely terrified; “I thought you knew! I didn’t--”

Oikawa storms past him, Iwaizumi quick to follow, and then Mattsun and Makki are right behind them. The first and second years glance at each other, before slowly following them, and sure enough the third years are heading straight for the gym, to which none of them are surprised to find you there, a form in your shaky hands as you stare at Coach Mizoguchi.

You turn to them with wide eyes, clearly having hoped to finish before any of the boys started practice. But Mizoguchi looks relieved. “Thank God you boys are here,” he breathes, standing up to which you try to stop him, but he isn’t listening, “Y/N wants to quit, but I really think she should talk to you first,” he’s looking directly at Oikawa, “she won’t tell me why. And please Y/N,” he turns to you, “I think you should reconsider.”

“We’ll talk to her,” Oikawa cuts in, voice oddly low before you can say anything.

Mizoguchi smiles, nodding at you before making his way over the gym obviously in search of Irihata. Instantly the tension thickens when you’re left alone with all eyes directly and solely on you.

It takes a second to find the words. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to any of you about it, but I...” And your voice falters, even you can’t help the way your voice quivers. “I think it’s best if I just quit.”

“You’re not quitting.” It’s Iwaizumi who speaks this time, and his voice is so firm, so sure, even if you’re not sure how to argue against it.

“But I-I--”

“You don’t need to quite,” Oikawa shakes his head, stepping towards you and pulling the form from your grasp with ease. You watch with parted lips as he simply rips it right in front of you, tossing it aside without much care, before glancing back at the rest, namely the other third years, turning back to you. “Now, tell us, who told you you had to quit?”

And your eyes bulge. How did he--

“Kindaichi and Kunimi told us about everything,” Iwaizumi starts, moving towards you, as your eyes fall to the first years, watching the way they both, even Kunimi, stare after you in concern. “We know someone’s been bothering you, so, just tell us.”

“We’ll help you,” Watari adds with a smile, hesitantly speaking up.

And you pause, unsure. But then you stare at them all watching you carefully, and see how all of them care so much, more then you ever thought they did and you’re reminded of why you’d refused to quit in the first place. Reminded of how much you love managing the volleyball team and no matter how much you were scared and hurt, you didn’t want to lose it all.

Lose them.

“It’s... It’s a few, three actually, of Oikawa-senpai’s fangirls,” you mumble, voice low, head turned downwards. “They... They don’t like how much time I spend with him, so they... they told me to quit and when I refused, they...” You don’t need to finish.

There’s a pause, before a slap echoes. 

“Somehow I knew this was your fault, Shittykawa.”

“Ow!” Oikawa cries, “Iwa-chan, it’s not like I...” But he seems to pause, lips parting as he glances down at you, his heart breaking slightly at the tears in your eyes.

Stepping forward, he pulls you into a hug, and you let him; “I’m sorry, Y/N-chan, I didn’t know they were hurting you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda is,” Mattsun comments, stepping forward as he smiles down at you, ruffling your hair. “It’s easier to blame him anyways.”

“I agree,” Makki laughs.

And even you find yourself laughing lightly.

“Really, Y/N-chan? Even you too?”

“Sorry.”

Then, everyone turns serious; “I’ll talk to them,” Oikawa frowns. “What they did isn’t okay. I won’t let them get away with it. They’ll never bother you again, Y/N.”

And you’re surprised by how serious he is.

But things do get better.

Aiko never bothers you again, nor does any other one of Oikawa’s fangirls.

Oikawa even makes her apologize, and even you have to admit the absolute mortification on her face makes everything a lot better.

The boys try to stop the rumour, but it’s easier said then done, though, the fame of it all does dwindle and you’re not snided in the hallways so much anymore.

It’s kind of hard to when you usually have one of the third years walking you to and from class anyways.

Besides, they’re your friends, and even if everyone else hates you, they don’t.

And that’s all that matters to you.