#''You ended up like this and you don't even have the decency to look cool?''

[bywandandsword]

I still find it hilarious that it was me, quiet little unassuming me, who ended up being the family Bad Influence and the Troublemaker

15 year old me would be both impressed and horrified

[my-thirteenth-reason]

kicking my feet and giggling (<- just got apologised to)

[signoferoda]

Bestiee loved all your stories u have written!💗 can I request a angsty one shot?? Like H has being neglecting reader nd one time she made dinner for him nd he came late nd she was so sad but she didn't said anything cause she didn't want to be a burden so h came nd sees her sleeping on couch nd dinner was on the dining table nd then apologize to her for the way he was behaving nd it ends with smut??

I don't know if u would like this idea but if u comfortable writing this I would love to read it:)

enjoy! I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long :(

***

The cool autumn air drifted through the slightly open window of the cozy apartment, carrying with it the faint scent of the pumpkin spice candle burning on the coffee table. Y/N stood in the kitchen, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. The soft hum of the oven filled the silence, a stark contrast to the lively chatter that usually filled their home.

Harry had been distant lately. Late nights at the studio had turned into missed dinners and brief, half-hearted conversations. Y/N couldn't remember the last time they'd shared a meal or even a genuine moment together. Tonight was supposed to be different. She had spent hours preparing Harry's favourite meal, hoping it might remind him of the love and warmth they once shared.

She glanced at the clock again. 10:15 PM. Her heart sank a little deeper with each passing minute. She had texted him earlier, reminding him about dinner, but his response had been the usual vague promise: "I'll try to make it."

Y/N set the table, placing the freshly baked lasagna in the centre. The salad was already wilting, and the wine had lost its chill. She sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. She didn't want to be a burden, to nag him about spending time together. She knew how hard he was working, how much he wanted to succeed. But it hurt, nonetheless.

Finally, the front door creaked open, and Harry stepped in, looking exhausted. His tie was loosened, and his hair was a disheveled mess. He paused in the doorway, his eyes immediately drawn to the untouched dinner and the solitary place setting.

"Y/N?" he called softly, his voice heavy with fatigue.

No response. He walked further into the apartment, spotting her curled up on the couch, asleep. Her face was a picture of peaceful slumber, but he could see the traces of disappointment etched in her features. Guilt gnawed at him as he realised just how much he'd been neglecting her.

Harry quietly approached her, crouching down to brush a stray hair from her face. She stirred slightly but didn't wake. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for everything."

He took a moment to compose himself, then stood and walked back to the kitchen. The sight of the meticulously prepared meal made his chest tighten. She had gone through all this trouble for him, and he hadn't even had the decency to show up on time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her this vulnerable, and it shattered him.

Harry carefully reheated the lasagna, wanting to at least try and salvage some part of her effort. As the oven worked its magic, he poured himself a glass of wine and took a long sip, reflecting on how distant he had become. He missed her. He missed them.

When the food was ready, he filled a plate and brought it to the couch. Sitting down beside her, he gently shook her shoulder. "Y/N, wake up, love."

Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to surprise as she saw him holding the plate of food. "Harry?" she murmured, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's late," he admitted, his voice soft. "I’m sorry I missed dinner. But I'm here now."

She looked at the plate and then back at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I... I didn't want to bother you. I know how busy you've been with the album."

Harry placed the plate on the coffee table and took her hands in his. "You could never be a bother to me, Y/N. I've been an idiot, pushing you aside for work. I thought I was doing it for us, but I see now that I've only been hurting you."

Tears finally spilled down her cheeks, and Harry pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I promise I'll do better. You mean everything to me, and I can't keep neglecting you like this."

She clung to him, the weight of her loneliness slowly lifting. "I just missed you, Harry. I miss us."

"I miss us too," he said, pulling back to look into her eyes. "Let's make it right, starting now. How about we share this meal together?"

She nodded, a small smile breaking through her tears. "I'd like that."

They sat on the couch, sharing the reheated lasagna and sipping the now-warm wine. The food was delicious, but more than that, it was the warmth of their rekindled connection that filled the room. They talked, really talked, for the first time in what felt like forever. And as the night wore on, the distance between them faded, replaced by a renewed promise of love and understanding.

Harry held her close as they finished the last of their meal, grateful for the second chance to make things right. He knew it wouldn't be easy, that they had a lot of healing to do. But with Y/N by his side, he felt hopeful. They had found their way back to each other, and that was a start.

[barleyo]

Prom Queen. (Re-upload)

Real Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: tumblr took this down. I'm re-uploading it because idgaf. No tags because I'm lazy, read at your own risk. Obviously reader is of age, and obviously, if you DON'T LIKE what I write, DON'T READ what I write, thanks :3

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT AHEAD

You had always dreamed about your senior prom. Even as a young girl, you thought exhaustively about how the night would go. You would wear a gorgeous gown, drink spiked punch, dance and laugh with friends, and most importantly, you would go with a cute boy.

Those dreams fell flat when your strict father outlawed prom for you. He said that prom was just an opportunity for hyped up, hormonal teens to gyrate on each other on school property. Prom was a night where girls opened their legs for their subpar dates who barely made the effort to scrounge up a corsage for them. Prom was the chance for unwanted, "happy accident" babies to be made by teenaged fuck-ups.

In short, prom was for whores. Leon would be damned if he would have a nasty whore of a daughter. It made him sick to even think of you wasting your sweet, nearly virginal body on a shit-for-brains boy whose only sexual experience no doubt came from his own right hand.

So, yeah. Prom was a nonstarter.

Of course, this angered you to no end. You could be heard sobbing each night after Leon's declaration of war on you having any fun was drawn up, but a small part of you thought it was the best.

You knew that prom wasn't like how it was shown in the movies. You wouldn't get an invitation from the hottest boy in school, you wouldn't get there in a decked out limo, and the punch would be lukewarm and watered down at best.

You wouldn't dance: you would have no one to dance with. You would sit alone at one of the tables eating fun sized candy bars aimlessly scattered on the repurposed lunch room tables in your school's gymnasium, while a horde of your peers would dance nasty on each other, being free and young.

The whole time, nobody would look at you, aside from the sly glance paired with a snicker shared between two gossiping teens, indulging in the rumors that floated around about you.

Nobody would want to dance with the girl who had an overprotective daddy that fucked her. Especially when that girl liked it.

The more you thought about it, the more you came to peace with the idea of staying in with Leon. Technically, being demanded to stay at home with him meant that you were sort of, kind of asked on a "date" with a hot guy, even if you shared DNA with said hot guy.

On the day of the dance, Leon had the decency to let you skip school. You sulked in bed the entire day, thinking about what could have been, rather than what was. He did not bother you, having enough sense to let a sleeping dog lay, but at exactly 10:00 PM , you felt your phone ding under your pillow.

'Come downstairs. Wear a dress. Not one of your church ones.'

His texts were always sharp and to the point, just like he was. Commanding. Strict.

You, as always, obliged. You put on one of his favorites, the one that always left his eyes lingering on your body a little too long. As you made your way down the stairs, you heard the faint sound of romantic music playing in the living room, which you naturally followed like a trail of breadcrumbs.

"Dad, what's all this?"

Your living room looked like a scene stripped from a cheesy romance movie. Rose petals scattered on the floor, lights dimmed low, and a tall, hot stud in the midst of it all. Your father's face was stern, but past that you could see the inkling of excitement in him.

"Your prom. I know it meant a lot to you," he said gruffly, adjusting the collar of the nice shirt he wore, "so I did what I could. Hope this'll make you forgive me."

Your feet pattered softly against the cool flooring, bringing your body along with them. You took a final look around the room and let your eyes lock onto your dad.

"I do. S'okay, I'm not mad at you, daddy."

How could you ever be mad at him? Your perfectly stubborn, grouchy, yet sexy father? Your father who—

"You know I just want the best for you, right peach?" Leon grasped you in his arms, snaking both arms around your lower waist while he rested his chin on your head. "Just wanna keep you safe."

"I know."

You both stood like that for a moment, neither speaking. The soft sound of the music slowly playing in the background was the only noise filling your sense. Well, that and the husky sound of your father's breathing. And his manly, leathery scent. His strong hands placed on your body, too.

You heard him clear his throat briefly and snapped to give him your attention, something you found yourself doing often. He liked when you listened to him quickly, made him feel respected.

"May I have this dance?" Leon asked, giving you a rare smirk when you nodded.

One of his hands stayed on your waist, while the other took your hand gently and clasped it in the air, leading you into a sweet waltz. With each step, he guided you with rigid, calculated movements. His movements were neat, as if he had been planning every moment of your shared dance.

The longer you danced with him, the closer your bodies pressed together, creating a faint friction between the two of you. In that moment, any negative emotion you had felt before faded away, leaving only the image of him in your mind.

Leon knew your signs. He'd spent a long time decoding them, and the look on your face was one he read easily. With a tilt of his head, he leaned in, a soft chuckle escaping his lips when he felt your increased heartbeat against his chest.

You made the first real move, pushing your tongue deeper into his mouth. Kisses were the only time he let you take on a dominant role. He thought it was cute, feeling your smaller tongue fuck into his mouth like you were in charge. Not wanting to spoil your fun, he softly guided you backwards to the wall, giving him a surface to work with.

"You're a bold one, I'll give you that," he said, breaking the kiss. "Can't ever actually ask for what you want, but you go wild once you get it, don't you?"

You hummed, letting him pull you up and wrap your legs around his waist. His hand slid under your dress and pushed it up, giving him a view of your panties.

"God, you're soaked. So wet f'me." Leon stuck his fingers in his mouth, slurping on them and covering them with spit before he forced them past the band of your underwear. Tight, quick circles were made around your clit, denying you of any time to think. "Nobody else can play with this, you hear me? This is all mine, you don' let anybody else have you," his voice was a warm whisper that fanned across your ear.

"I promise, 'm all yours. Don't want anyone else, only you, daddy," you swore desperately, meaning every word even if it sounded like you were just babbling on.

"Fuckin' slut." He spit a fat glob onto his fingers and spread it around your cunt, lubing you up. "Thought I raised a sweet girl. Bet you act like this for the boys at school too, huh?" Your panties were slid to the side.

His teeth clenched together jaggedly as he prodded the tip of his cock at you entrance, drawing in a deep breath when he pushed it fully in.

"No, never! I don't want any of them, just want you. They aren't good enough."

"Yeah? Greedy little cunt only wants her daddy, is that right?" The ego boost he was getting from this ran through him immediately. He wound your clit up with his thumb, quickly zigzagging on the little bud to match his thrusts. "Good. They don't deserve to feel you—"

You cunt fluttered around his length at his words, leaving him biting down on his lip.

"Just like that. Gonna make me cum if you keep that up, baby."

Your mouth hung open, pathetic mewls leaking from it. Each sound he drew out of you was nearly pornographic. He bullied your guts and hit deep, far deeper than your fingers ever could, and left you far more needy than your digits did.

"Inside this time?" You had wanted it so bad for the longest time, and instead he would pull out of you and coat your soft tummy or the fat of your ass with his ropes. "I need to feel it, please. I don't wanna be empty again, jus' fill me up," you slurred, drool spilling from the corner of your plush mouth.

"Yeah," he huffed, nodding along with you words, ready to finally jump at the opportunity, "yeah, inside. I need it too, baby, you have no idea. Daddy wants to spoil you real bad, he wants to give you all the babies you want."

Your lower body tensed, squeezing him tightly as the familiar rhythmic pattern of your orgasm set in. It felt so right in that moment, like your body was made for this exact purpose: being a warm hole for your dad to fill with his hot cum.

"Ready?" He said it more like a demand than a question, and within seconds he was creaming into you, still pounding your cunt like he hated you. "Take it, don't spill."

He kept his dick sheathed away inside of you, hoping that if he kept most of his cum in you, it would take. His brow was slick with sweat and his face was flushed. He had never looked so attractive before.

You ran your hand through his hair to get his attention. When he darted his eyes up to you, you mumbled something about wanting to go again.

"Anything for you baby. Night's still young, isn't it? We got time."

[aezuria]

*ੈ✎ two lovers entwined, pass me by

"and heaven knows i'm miserable now" —the smiths

content: leo valdez x roman! reader

╰┈▸ back cover: what if leo gets a little too tired of being the seventh wheel, wait- ninth wheel? (and meets a girl who is a d1 hater)

╰┈▸ warnings: leo and yn dont hate hate couples its a joke okay (unless its not a joke anymore pls give them love-) cursing, maybe ooc reyna? NOT canon compliant, a bit of angst but overall its silly

librarian's annotations: this is now my fav work if u guys dont like it then dont tell me pls 😣

leo was tired. sick and tired of everyone's public displays of affection! can they at least have the decency to romance each other in the privacy of their own rooms!? he did not build ten of them for no reason! there was absolutely no way they needed to suck face at the dining table. like, right in front of his food!?

okay, he was being a bit dramatic. the most everyone was willing to do in public was hold hands. and maybe share a kiss. but that was a kiss too much! and wasn't reyna supposed to off doing (cool) praetor shit!? ever since her and jason made up, leo has not been able to catch a break! can they stop eyefucking each other already!? (they are simply staring into one another's eyes)

"guys." leo swept his gaze over the dining table. he was seated at the end, giving him an unwarranted view of everyone paired up. apparently, love is also deaf, since no one turned their head to him.

"guys!" leo raised his voice. would he be heard over the sound of their unspoken conversations? heads finally spun to look at him, as if they just remembered he was there.

"can you guys like, eat? or do this-" he gestured widely. "elsewhere? and by elsewhere i mean not in front of me."

they all managed to give him the exact same look that was a mix of embarrassment at being called out, and something that said "poor leo, he's so single!" oh come on! jason made it even worse by putting a—what was supposed to be—comforting hand on his arm. "it's okay, leo. i'm sure you'll find someone one day."

this was not funny at all. and leo would know; he's the funniest guy ever! he snatched his arm away with an utterly aghast expression. "ew! get your pity off of me!" he shuddered, playing up the theatrics and wiped his forearm over jason, giving him his couple-cooties back.

the blond reeled back, laughing at his best friend's antics. "what was that for!?"

"don't act like you don't know!" he sneered accusingly.

nights were always the worst for leo. they were quiet, and not the calm, peaceful quiet when he would stay out and watch the sun set, the time before his happiness came to an end. it was an empty quiet, devoid of the laughter he caused, his thoughts become louder to fill up the silence.

(it was night when his mother died, when he had burned down the warehouse. when he had killed her. it was night when he awoke to the front door slamming, the sounds of drunken yells and glass splintering were backing instruments in an interlude of impending misery as he waits for the sun to shine once again. it was night when he ran away, with nothing more than his heavy heart and some left over change.)

leo's thoughts ran rampant with the feelings he kept in a glass box. always there, always seen, very fragile yet rarely opened. sometimes he would shake it a little too hard, and it would come crashing down like a bottle of alcohol, spilling insecurities instead of wine.

tonight was one of those times.

he doesn't know what brought it on. well, he lied; it was the sight of everyone at dinner, looking happy and complete without him. but he was used to it. it shouldn't have bothered him this much. but the more he let it stew, the more it hurt. leo loved his friends, sure, but he couldn't help but have a little bit of resentment at how easy it was for them to make up, make out. hell, even piper got a girlfriend, a mortal one at that! between traveling and fighting monsters, he didn't even know that was possible. what about him was so unlovable?

as he tossed and turned to shake off the voices in his head, he knew that this would be another sleepless night.

today was going to be a good day; leo could feel it in his gut. the skies were clear, there were no monsters coming to wake them up, and the engine was running smoothly. he had time to work on his little projects all day today! he hummed a tune as he walked to the engine room, or his work room for today, and spun a wrench in his hand. maybe he had a little skip to his saunter, a pep in his step. something about today was just so-

his gut lied to him. (maybe he was hungry?) the wrench clattered to the ground as he came to an abrupt stop. "oh. my. gods." leo paused between every word to further emphasize his disdain.

the sight was scandalous, completely and irrevocably scandalous. like, i-need-to-wash-my-brain-out scandalous. and leo was so not being dramatic this time.

percy and annabeth flinched away from each other in a half-asleep fumble, trying to act as if they had not just been caressing each other's bodies mere moments ago. (okay, maybe he was being dramatic again) this wasn't even a romantic place to do that! and leo would know, he's such a romantic guy. what was the purpose of his hard work of making bedrooms if they were just going to sneak off and desecrate his beloved engine room!?

"frank catching you two once wasn't enough?" leo huffed and bent down to pick up his dropped tool. "now i have to see the two of you fraternizing in my domain!?"

"that's not even the proper word-" annabeth had tried to hold back, but the urge to correct him was too much.

"i don't care! shoo!"

leo was so done. his perfect day had been ruined first thing in the morning! now it was late, he was tired, and he was finally heading back to his room to get some much needed rest after holing himself up all day working on random knick-knacks. a soft noise caught his attention. it was dim, the lights low since him and annabeth wanted to save electricity. he felt the familiar dread in his stomach. there was absolutely no way this could be happening.

"we shouldn't do this here..." wait, was that reyna?

"i know.. but i'm gonna miss you when you leave." no. no. NO. the direction the two very very familiar voices were coming from was right in front of the hallway to his bedroom. "please?"

leo was torn. he didn't want to walk in on them, but he couldn't spend another night in the engine room! he wanted his comfy bed right now!

he slapped a hand over his eyes and stepped heavily on the wooden floorboards, giving them a much needed warning. he heard the sound of fabric and shuffling, a satisfied smirk gracing his face.

"are you guys decent?" leo asked, still squeezing his eyes shut under his hand.

jason huffed, no doubt red in the face. "it's not like we weren't in the first place."

leo dared to open his eyes, finding that not only was his face red, but there were bruises starting to dapple his neck. ew. he did not want to think about how that came to be. "uh huh. well go and canoodle somewhere not in front of my room, please and thank you."

"canoodle?"

"reyna i told you, i don't wanna go!" you grumbled akin to a toddler, despite your status as the centurion of the first cohort. you took off your armor, dropping it to the ground haphazardly. "i don't need to see you and mister perfect canoodling in front of me!"

the praetor snorted and shook her head. "'canoodling?' you're the second person i've heard use that word this week." she paused, a thoughtful expression passing over her face. "you guys would get along well, i think. anyways, i'm not asking as a friend, i'm ordering you as praetor."

oh that was so unbelievably low! "what!? reynaa!" you stretched out the end of her name in an embarrassingly childish whine. good thing it was just the two of you here, otherwise no one would let you live it down. "i thought they were supposed to be going soon anyway!?"

"you heard me. and no, they're staying for a couple more nights. something about the engine being broken again?" she shrugged, an amused glimmer breaking through her usually serious front. "besides, we have a lot to discuss about the whole gaea thing, and who better to bring than you? you're my right hand woman."

you tried to hide a smile at her words, but sweet-talk always won you over. "ugh, fine. i guess i'll go."

something was up. you knew that from the moment she asked you to "wear something other than purple for once." who even owned anything but purple!? heck, you didn't even know reyna had different clothes outside of uniform! was that even allowed? you'd only ever seen her wear the same shirt as you, and a toga if the event accounted for it.

you sifted through your wardrobe, digging through masses of violet and coming up blank. oh well, guess its uniform time again. not that you minded all that much.

"you are changing." reyna shook her head, giving you a disappointed look only a mother could offer. this wasn't even a big deal! what was so wrong with your shirt? you rather liked purple!

"but why!? what better way to represent rome than this?" you gestured to your clothing. "aren't we talking business? also this is like the only shirt i have."

"because-"

"you just wanna look all pretty for your boyfriend." you cut her off, faking a gag. "doesn't mean i have to look pretty."

her shoulders tensed and you drew back, already anticipating her near-fatal blow.

"reyna? you know i was just kidding- OW!"

"-wait this is so my color actually." you checked yourself in her mirror. who knew reyna had fashion sense? although not much was required for a simple shirt and jeans.

she nodded and got to her feet. "suits you well. consider it my apology."

"huh? apology for what? for hitting me? aww you're so-"

"no. for what's about to happen to you." a solemn expression took over her face. she was well aware of your exaggerated hatred for couples. maybe you were just a bitter single, but she wasn't about to tell you that. she hoped you would soon be taken (not literally) and stop harassing her for her romantic escapades.

that was ominous. should you be scared for your life? "what the hell does that even mean?"

oh. now you knew exactly what it meant. as the two of you boarded the argo ii, she was immediately swept into a bone-crushing hug by jason, as if he couldn't bear to let her go ever again. you almost threw up at the sight. how could your beloved best friend be reduced to a lovesick schoolgirl at the touch of a man!? a man that had forgotten her! (and remembered, and apologized, and confessed his love- okay, you were starting to see her side quite clearly)

you turned your head away entirely, not wanting to see all that. but everywhere you looked, a new couple seemed to pop up. it was like your worst nightmare come to life. percy and annabeth? piper and some girl? frank and hazel? holding hands? since when were they a thing!? sweet hazel and shy frank? they were—admittedly—adorable, but still!

your only respite was leo looking just as exasperated as you. he must have it way worse; he had to live here with all of them. you shuddered. you were glad you weren't in his place right now.

you stood awkwardly to the side as they reunited. do they do this all the time? and everyone's just cool with it? maybe they can relate, with their taken-ness and all. ugh.

leo peeked at you curiously from the corner of his eye. your expression was as clear as day, face scrunched up in disdain as he traced your gaze to the practically infinite amount of couples onboard. he nodded internally, knowing exactly how you were feeling. but hey, he couldn't just let a pretty girl like you stay unhappy on his ship, not if he could help it!

"hey there," leo said smoothly, or as smooth as he could be after he had almost tripped on the crack between the floorboards. "i'm leo."

finally! someone had the decency to entertain you. "i know you! you're the guy that made octavian throw a hissy fit for firing at new rome!" shit, was that a weird thing to say for a first time interaction? too late now.

the brunette cringed at the mention of his possession. "uh, that's not what most people know me by, but yeah..?"

"oh? and what do most people know you by?" consider yourself intrigued.

leo perked up at your question, having been given an amazing opportunity to charm you. "well obviously it's my rugged good looks, and ingenious inventions, and-"

"we're starting dinner now!" jason called out from the dining table, before recieving an elbow to the gut from reyna and a harsh whisper from piper.

you were lost in your thoughts, zoning out as everyone spoke around you. leo's actually kinda... a tiny part of you popped the idea into your head. he was kinda, indeed. gods, i hate couples. a much larger portion of your mind seemed to yell. do you, or do you just hate being single? you asked yourself. huh. well it's probably-

a cough to your left caught your attention. it was leo. when his brown eyes met yours, you couldn't see a trace of that same boy who was described a traitor and a freak for firing at new rome. maybe something really did possess him.

"wanna know how i built this ship?" he asked excitedly. it was clear that the argo ii was his pride and joy.

"yeah!" you grinned, his cheerfulness rubbing off on you. who cares if he fired on new rome anymore? that was so last tuesday.

"so first, i had this cool metal dragon..."

unbeknownst to you, annabeth whispered across the table to reyna. "i think it's working?"

so, the dinner wasn't anything about business. you did learn a ton from leo though! that was business enough wasn't it? still, you couldn't help the pang of guilt that came with not getting anything work-related done. it was practically in your genes as a roman.

"y/n! you should stay the night!" hazel encouraged from the sofa across you. she was met with choruses of yeahs! and you shoulds! by the other girls, including reyna.

"oh!" you laughed awkwardly, trying to think of a way to politely turn them down. as much as you would love to stay and get to know them, you had a job to do. even if that job was getting all the legionnaires in your cohort to bed by curfew. (like seriously, the amount of times you've had to reel in couples you caught sneaking out was crazy. maybe that's where your hatred came from.) "i'd love to, but i have... centurion duties and all that."

"but reyna has praetor duties and she's staying," annabeth argued. her gray eyes shone with an intensity you only saw on the battlefield. what was going on?

that was new information to you. "you're staying?" you questioned your friend, who looked away with a hint of embarrassment.

"jason's leaving soon," she coughed. after being apart for so long, you could hardly blame her for wanting a little more time with him. "but that's besides the point. you should stay."

you crossed your arms, trying to come up with another excuse. "uh, i don't have clothes to change into?" it was a weak attempt, but you hoped it would work.

"i can lend you some," hazel piped up from the side, obviously eager to make you stay.

aw. she was always so nice. but you had a feeling there was an underlying motive you just couldn't figure out.

you tried again. "i don't think there's a spare room for me to sleep in."

"there's an empty one by leo," piper pointed out.

well, that was it. they refuted all your claims and left you no choice but to stay. you heaved a sigh and relented. "fine."

you weren't sure how it happened, but you ended up with leo again. so much for girls night. but you couldn't complain, leo was good company. he never let the silence stew between you guys for too long, always switching between one topic to the next, until somehow, you were both talking shit about your pathetic love lives and the insufferable ones of those around you.

"you wouldn't believe how many times i've caught these people! i swear, they can never keep it in their pants for more than two seconds! it's like, trauma at this point!" you rolled your eyes, absolutely abhorring the new legionnaires in your cohort.

leo laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. he looked over his shoulder, before leaning in as if telling you a secret. "like two days ago, i caught jason and reyna making out! he had hickies all over his neck!"

you gasped at the scandalous behavior of the two most serious people you knew. "what!? no way..."

the curly-haired boy nodded vehemently. "yes way! it was so gross."

eventually, it was time for the both of you to say your goodnights. leo led you to your room, giving you a cheeky wink before he retreated into his own. you shut the door, and threw yourself into bed.

maybe it was the unfamiliar environment, maybe it was the fact that you were way up in the air, or maybe it was leo running circles around your mind. whatever the reason was, you couldn't sleep. or maybe you chose not to, just to have an excuse to see the stars. the time when they were out was the only time you'd allow yourself a break.

you crept out of the room, careful not to make noise as you made your way out onto the deck. the air was crisp, a gentle bite against your skin. it seemed that the god of the sky was on your side tonight, for the clouds were nowhere to be seen, only the full moon of artemis and the familiar stars shone. you made yourself comfy on the floor, leaning back against the railing as you took a deep breath.

it would be another night of no sleep for leo, that much he could tell. he groaned into his pillow. he couldn't tell if it was the new crush already forming on you, or his angst from a few days before. regardless, his nervous energy made him get up and pace the room, fidgeting with a screw he found on the floor. with footsteps light, he traveled the small area, before something told him to get some fresh air. he obliged. it was better than being in his stuffy room.

as he went up the stairs to the upper level, he caught sight of a figure in the distance. leo's curiosity spiked. he walked closer, the image of you coming into view. your eyes locked on his, a soft smile gracing your face at seeing him. "hey."

"hey." leo dipped his head in greeting, and sat down beside you. "mind if i sit here?"

you shook your head and returned your gaze to the starry night sky, a comfortable silence settling between you two, with only the tapping of leo's fingers against the floor filling the air. it was different, being alone with him. he seemed different. he was quieter, more mellow.

"i hate nights." leo blurted out, breaking the peace you two had shared.

"really?" you asked softly. he braced himself with the condescending remark that was sure to come after, but it never came. instead he received a genuine interest from you. "why's that?"

the boy felt his heart beat a little faster. was he really going to tell you, a girl he barely knew, his whole life story? perhaps it was the late hour that made him want to spill everything out. or the feeling that stirred whenever he looked at you, like magnets attracting. and so he did.

and you listened without any interruption, never followed up with that remark he was waiting for, never gave him the pity he hated. instead, you followed up with your own story.

"i love nights. for me, it's the only time i really feel free. when everyone else is asleep, and it's just you and the stars. away from all the rules." you looked up. they seemed so close from here, way up in the floating ship. they twinkled like glitter, flashing heys and hellos and nice to see you agains. it was beautiful.

leo admired you the way you did the stars. they reflected off your eyes and made your irises shine, the same way fire casted a diffused glow on everything around it. maybe nights weren't so bad after all, if every one of them would be spent with you.

and when you leaned against him to rest your head on his shoulder, whispering secrets into his ear? oh, caligula would have blushed. (leo knows he sure did)

"operation get leo a girlfriend, complete!"

"i thought we were calling it operation get y/n a boyfriend?"

"whatever. operation leoy/n is a success!"

"...you know we can hear you guys, right?"

[thewebcomicsreview]

tatsuya is now explicitly telling his readers to start killing jews

Obviously I'm not posting the comic, but to save you the temptation of looking it up, the final panel is a picture of a caricature of a Jewish person getting attacked with a pitchfork with the caption "Yeet the Yid", which I'm counting as a slur for the purposes of Sinfest Racism Bingo.

Which means that I think we're really truly finally done with Sinfest's descent. He banged out "slurs" and "explicit calls for violence" in the same day. I literally can not think of anything else he could do that's categorically worse than this, short of committing a crime himself.

It's so....disappointing. I wasn't really reading Sinfest back when it was "good", so I don't mourn the loss of a once-good webcomic. But even when he finally crosses the final line that I didn't initially think he could cross, he doesn't even have the decency to do it in an interesting way. Not that I want him to be a funnier nazi or anything, but there's this deep well of pathetic to it all. "Yeet the Yid", huh? That's what you got? That's the big call to violence after months of buildup?

One of my favorite reviews of anything is the RPGNet review of a deeply racist and misogynist game called FATAL that was also stupid and boring. You may have seen the review, it's savage and great (though, content warning since it directly quotes a bunch of horrific shit), but there's an analogy from it that Sinfest makes me think of.

Oh, they want to be all evil and shocking and crap. God, how pathetically they tried. I mean, imagine opening a door to find your mother and sister raping each other with pink strap-ons. And you then realize that you've never seen their bare asses before, because you're pretty sure you would have remembered the swastikas tattooed there. And upon noticing you, they grin wickedly and give you the finger in unison. It's shocking in a way that instantly blights out all rational thought, but later, you'll have to admit the finger and wicked grinning part was kinda cool. (I...guess.) That's the feeling the FATAL morons so wish they could provoke. Instead, they're more like opening that door to find your weeks-unwashed Otaku brother in his soiled underwear, masturbating furiously to - of all the goddamn things in the world - an Archie comic. And on his bare ass is a tattoo of, inexplicably, someone else's ass, and he's disgustingly fat enough for it to be a good 14 inches across. And as he goes at it, he's quietly moaning to himself about how worthless women, [LGBT People] and [black people] are and how they should all be raped or murdered. It's still disturbing on all kinds of levels. But it's the kind of stupid disturbing that ends with you having to answer questions to the satisfaction of a prosecuting attorney.

Let that be Sinfest's legacy. A tattoo on Tatsuya Ishida's ass of the Stonetoss Guy's Ass.

[scorpioriesling]

Too Hot to Handle - Episode 8

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Characters featured: Reader, Feyre, Morrigan, Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, Amren, Cassian, Lucien, Eris, Tarquin, Rhysand, Helion, Azriel, & Tamlin

Warning(s): mostly VERY suggestive, but... ehm... light smut at the end. You're welcome. I suppose. (:

SR’s Note: Guys I know you’ve waited ages for this episode… don’t fret. I made this one juicy asf for you. Eat it up. (; Tags: @velarisdusk @lilah-asteria @starlightazriel @mellowmusings @paintedbyshadows @book-obsessed124 @kitsunetori @rcarbo1

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"To say I am utterly disappointed in almost all of you would be the understatement of the century."

Lana's voice was the last thing you wanted to hear this morning, though her lovely morning wake up calls were inevitable. Many members of the group failed to even sit up in their beds this morning -- you at least gave your host the decency of acting like you were paying attention, though your head was still throbbing from the amount of alcohol you'd consumed the night prior.

Your only comfort was Lucien's warm arms still wrapped around your waist, a feeling you never wished to escape from; his soft, sleepy breaths against his pillow confirmed that he definately was not paying attention to Lana this morning.

"In fact, I feel so embarassed by the actions of these individuals that I would like to replay the footage from last night caught on the security cameras for everyone to see."

You straighten, and catch Nesta's silvery stare from across the room. Surprisingly, or, maybe not -- Cassian is rubbing his eyes in bed next to her, not seeming to be fully awake yet either. Her eyes widen as Lana's cone projects an image onto the adjacent wall near the entryway; large enough so everyone is able to see.

"I don't think we should be back here," the soft, familiar female voice sounds as the video tape begins on the screen.

Your eyes widen, glancing to the bed across from yours where your friend flings the covers off of her, frantically shaking the male next to her to pay attention.

"Oh, come on -- no one is even back here," that cool, suave tone prods. The couple walks on, rounding the corner of the villa near the spot where you remembered finding Elain and Lucien in their... well, compromising, position. The footage is a bit grainy, and in black and white, but there is no doubt about who the two are. The audio is clear proof of that.

The girl chuckles, the stripes of her skirt swishing with each step she takes. He keeps walking, his hand guiding her on her lower back and inching lower as they slow to a stop near a dark corner.

"I feel so... sneaky," she giggles, and he smiles at her as the camera zooms in. You glance toward them again, her usually pale-freckled face tinged pink with embarassment.

"I bet there are no cameras back here," he says, his hand bracing against the wall and caging her in. She looks up at him, her hands lightly roaming over the planes of his exposed chest.

"Rhys... we have to have a green-"

"I don't care about a green light; I just want you, now," he says. She reaches up, and in an instant, their mouths are on one another. Audible gasps come from the group, and Feyre buries her head in her hands as the lewd sounds of soft groans and wet kisses are played aloud for the group to hear.

"Alright Lana, I think that's enough," Rhys says, his brows furrowed as he runs a hand over Feyre's shoulders. You look down, your palms clammy as you grab onto the top sheet. Lucien is slowly coming to, looking at you with a confused expression while he quietly takes in the scene around him.

You don't have the heart, or the courage to tell him what's happening.

"Had enough?" Lana pauses the clip. "So have I." She says, clearly irritated. "Your rule break cost the group $10,000. Right after I gave everyone gifts, too. How kind of you to repay me." Amren shakes her head from across the room, and you watch as Tarquin bites the inside of his cheek.

"Don't fret too much over it -- we're only just getting started." She continues. "Let's have a look at our next couple to violate my rules, shall we?"

The group watches with baited breath as the camera footage switches, this time panning to the shoreline. In the background, the tiki bar and dancing from the main group is seen, but in the front, well... another couple is seen. Alone. Laying in the sand.

This didn't look good.

"By the Cauldron," Tamlin whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh give me a break," Azriel snapped, and your brows rose as you squinted to make out the dark footage before you.

The camera zoomed in, catching the perfectly illuminated profile of the redheaded female giggling in the sand. Her dark haired counter part was delicately tracing his fingers up her exposed stomach -- the see through dress covered in M&Ms doing little to conceal her form.

"Tickles!" She squeaked, her fingers lacing through his before he pinned both of her wrists above her head in the sand. Her breath was coming out in short pants as he moved on top of her, his... excitement rather evident through the gold "foil" Twix shorts he was wearing.

"You have to know," he says quietly, sliding down toward the tops of her thighs where the short skirt of the dress ended. "This is my favorite," he pauses, kissing the inside of her knee. She shivers, smiling softly. "...candy," he kisses the other knee, looking up at her through his dark brows. You had to admit, he wasn't even your man, but... had it been Lucien, you would've melted like an M&M on the pavement during a hot summer day.

She seems to remember what is to come -- a few beds down, she grabs every layer of blanket, sheet, comforter on the bed and pulls them completely over herself, covering her entire body out of embarassment, surely.

"Azzie..." she squeaks, and you feel your face heating from the second-hand embarassment. You watch as Azriel is forcibly restraining himself, many of the other group members' eyes glued to the screen in horror.

He keeps kissing her legs, going up her thighs and you fight yourself in your own mind to not allow yourself to think of Lucien. You know where this is heading, but when you sneak a glance at him, he's only looking toward the projection like everyone else.

Azriel bites one of the candies on her skirt, the candy coming off and she gasps as he chuckles near the top of her thigh. "Mmmm," he groans, and her head tips back in the sand. "Delicious," he mutters, the next candy closer to her pelvis. She sucks in a breath when his hands move to hold her hips in place, his nose brushing the thin fabric.

"I... m-more..." she pleads, and he grins mischeviously. She continues to squirm under his touch as he descends on her again, his fingers moving under the hem of her dress before stalling, and she groans again.

"I'm sure you'd taste sweeter than anything I've ever eaten before, Gwyneth Berdara-"

"ENOUGH OF THAT," Azriel is up in an instant, his entire body up and off the bed without hesitation. The group seems to snap out of their daze as he throws himself in front of the projection, his arms wide as the picture distorts itself across his bare upper half. You can see why Gwyn is so attracted, but... Gods, how embarassed you'd be.

You could only pray for your sake, for Lucien's sake, what you remembered doing wasn't too bad.

"Not another moment more of that. I don't want to see it." He said firmly, the video pausing on the rather explicit frame of him hovering over her, his lusty gaze fixed on her mouth, fallen open in what looked like a moan as his hands disappeared beneath her dress.

"Don't like facing what you've done, is that it?" Lana mocks. Azriel glares at the cone, as if she were a real person and could see his reaction. "I think it's quite healthy to own up to our mistakes, especially when we know what's right and choose not to follow the rules."

Azriel scoffs, slouching back into bed and crossing his arms. "I'll honor the request and spare you the rest of the footage -- but this rule break, my my. This one is $20,000."

More frustrated gasps come from the group, glares sent toward the couple. Azriel only stares forward, his brows furrowed. Looking around, you aren't too surprised to see Helion finding the whole situation rather entertaining.

"Hey man, I get it, I mean... we've been cooped up in here, you got your girl alone on the beach-"

"Not another word about the situation," Azriel growls, and Helion chuckles, throwing his hands up in surrender. Gwyn shifts beneath her blankets, muttering something about how she'd choose the Cauldron in this situation.

"It's cool, I'm just sayin'..."

"Not. Another. Word." He bites out, and Lana lights up once more.

"No need for words, boys. We still have more couples to reprimand. This next pair didn't seem to need many before they-"

"So, what if we just, admit to what we've done," Nesta's cool, confident voice interrupted Lana's chiding, causing her purple lights to flicker. All eyes wavered between the two, and yours watched as Cassian sat up straight, leaning in to whisper hurriedly to the blonde with concern. She only brushed him off, seemingly unconcerned with whatever warning he was trying to give her. He slowly sat back against the headboard, running his hands through his hair as he stared at the ceiling.

Lucien smirked beside you. "For a guy so Hell bent on keeping everyone in line this whole time, he sure looks like a teenager who just got caught jerkin' it for the first time." He chuckles again, and you smack his shoulder. Was he really not getting it? Surely the cameras picked up on what you'd done last night -- or, what you thought you did. You weren't dumb enough to think events like those happened in a dream.

Beneath the blankets, your hand slipped under the hem of your nightshirt. You slowly inched your hand upward, careful to not raise any suspicion to the others. Your fingers drifted along your ribs, tracing them one by one, travelling closer and closer inward...

Ouch. The dull pain radiating just below your right breast was proof enough.

Definately not a dream.

"If we just admit we broke a rule, you won't need to play any more of the tapes. Right?" Nesta continues. The room is quiet for a moment, and Lana's lights move back and forth, as though she is thinking.

"While I appreciate your honesty in admitting you have broken one of my rules Nesta, the point of showing these videos this morning is for all of you to understand the humility in the actions you take. This explaination was going to come at the end of my reprimanding, but in short, it will lead to the main activity for today." She explains. Nesta sighs, biting the inside of her lip.

"We'll get to that later. For now, as you all can assume -- the next video and rule break." The screen projects again, this time as predicted, Nesta is on the screen. She walks, well... stumbles, perhaps, toward the outdoor lounge it seems. Even in the moonlight, she looks ethereal; her flowing hair perfectly shimmering down her back; the low cut, chocolatey brown dress draped across her, clinging in all the right places to accentuate her every curve. You almost wish you could cover Lucien's eyes, but there was no point. You feel a pang of jealousy when you notice him unashamedly staring at the screen like a male starved.

The camera angle changes, and you watch as she chuckles at something, then uncharacteristically trips over one of the tendrils of her dress. Your breath catches -- but, in an instant, Cassian is there, her hands wrapping around his bicep as his hands clasp around her waist. She looks up and smiles again as he guides her toward one of the plush outdoor couches, helping her into it and then sitting next to her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her slowly shaking her head in disapproval. Cassian runs his hands over his face, peeking out at the projection in horror between his fingers.

"You should have taken me on a date," Nesta drawled, clearly intoxicated as her fingers toyed with the fluff of Cassian's outfit. He arched a brow.

"A date? You were the one picking who to take on a date, not me," he retorted, and she rolled her eyes, leaning close to him.

"You still could have asked me out or something after," she continued, and he shook his head, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

"You're making no sense right now Nesta, but I love to listen to you talk nonetheless." He said, gazing at her as though she was the only female to exist in this world. Your heart warmed at the sight, probably the only good thing to come from this morning from Hell. You were happy for your friend, a silver lining, perhaps, even if she didn't remember every word and conversation had amidst the madness of the morning.

"Hmmm," she sighed, twirling her finger around the cotton-like strands of his shirt. "What is your costume, anyway?" She smirked.

He grinned mischeviously at her. "Aw, really? You couldn't tell? They gave me the marshmallow one." Nesta tilted her head back, a real, genuine laugh of excitement leaving her lips. Cassian couldn't help but join in, the sight of her usually serious composure slipping was one he was happy he could bring out of her.

When she finally caught her breath, she leaned in, so close that a few tendrils of her long hair tickled his neck.

"Well," she said quietly. "I think chocolate tastes better with marshmallows, anyway." Her eyes find his, blown wide in amusement as he pulls her in, his mouth colliding with hers. It doesn't take long for his hands to slide under the curve of her ass, pulling her on top of him as their mouths move in a tango, the cameras catching once again, every sound and groan-

"So," Lana pauses the tape. "Now we have seen three rule breaks, all in one evening. I hope you're all proud of yourselves." The room is quiet, the innocent group members shaking their heads in disapproval. Lucien's fingers slide along your thigh, his touch sending fireworks across your skin beneath the blanket.

"I do appreciate the admission of the rule break, Nesta; however, the cost is $10,000. It's been long enough now that you all know why you're here, and what my rules are."

You bite the inside of your cheek as she continues. "Which brings me to why I've tortured you all this morning. Today, we will be having workshops -- the guys will have their workshop this morning, and the girls will have theirs later tonight." This news seems to excite the group, and some of your nerves dissipate as she elaborates. Maybe she hadn't caught what you and Lucien had done, and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't be punished for it.

"Since you all seem to think it is alright to misbehave after I gift you things like bracelets and parties -- you'll attend the workshops today and hopefully understand why your small amount of remaining time here is so precious." You move to stand, ready for the morning of torture to end so you can prepare for whatever "work" she has coming your way later this evening.

"Ah ah ah," she tuts, her lights blazing. "Please, guests. I'm not finished."

You sit, the pit growing in the bottom of your stomach. You can feel Lucien's eyes on you, but you don't dare to look. You can't seem to tear your gaze from anywhere but straight ahead. Straight at that damned. Cone.

"My final thoughts from this morning included another guest who'd been in my hot seat for a minute now, and after last night did not prove themselves worthy of staying at this retreat any longer." Murmurs ripple through the group, and you watch as the male in bed alone stands, seeming to know whats coming. His clenched fists indicate his unhappiness, but it's his glare toward the bed Netsa and Cassian share that has you more intrigued than sympathetic.

"Eris, please pack your things. You'll be leaving-"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it." In one swift motion, he slings his backpack over his shoulder, wheeling his suitcase behind him. The group watches silently as he walks out, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone on the way out. Its quiet for a few moments before Lana pipes up again.

"Finally guests, we have one more tape to watch. This costs the group another $20,000 -- leaving the total prize fund at $110,000. Please direct your attention to the projection."

All heads turn toward the open wall. Lana plays the video recording.

And to your horror, you watch as your face appears before the group.

ﾟ:* ✧

“What kind of outfit does one wear to a… what did Lana call it?”

It takes a few moments before there is a response. A dreary one, at best.

“A workshop.” At least Feyre had the decency to respond. No amount of bubbliness in Morrigan’s voice seemed to uplift the majority of the group today, and it was late enough that you could no longer blame the hangover headache or morning after fatigue.

All you had to blame was your outright shame. Your ignorance that cost the group due to your actions from the night prior.

Luckily, you weren’t alone. Nesta was colder than usual and Feyre hadn’t seemed to smile all day. You couldn’t say much for Gwyn, you weren’t as close with her — but you could imagine the feeling all too well.

“Right,” Mor sighs, uncapping her eyeliner and leaning toward the vanity mirror.

Lana had said earlier to be ready by 8 for the workshop, but it was now 7:45 and you’d been ready an hour ago. You simply didn’t feel right today — the pool water was too cold, you didn’t think you could handle any more alcohol, a walk along the beach didn’t even entice you as Lucien and the guys were gone to their workshop during the daylight hours. Not to mention the walk of shame from the villa to the pool to retrieve the discarded piece of your costume from last night. That was the final nail in the depression-coffin.

So, you got ready early.

As the girls corralled on the pool deck just after 8, your spirits lifted a little as you watched the guys approaching from the beach. Tarquin… then Rhysand… then Cassian…

Lucien stopped, taking your fingers lightly and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a small smile, his reassuring gaze finding yours.

“How was the workshop?” You asked.

He shrugged. “It went well, but I would’ve rather spent my day with you if I’m being honest.” He winked, and you grinned at his cheekiness.

“You’re too much,” you added playfully, and he squeezed your hand.

“But you love it,” he said, and your breath caught in your throat. You supposed you… did, love it. There were a lot of things, lately, you’d come to… love.

“Talk later?” He asked, following the group of guys back to the villa. You could only nod as you watched him leave, unable to find the words and force them out the way you wanted.

ﾟ:* ✧

“Good evening, ladies!” A tall, lean woman stood near a crackling campfire on the white sands of the shore. Her smile was inviting, her arms open and inviting the group to come join her on the beach — but you couldn’t help but wonder why she was wearing-

“Is she wearing pajamas?” Feyre whispers, and you nod silently. Morrigan snorts from her other side.

“I swear, if Lana sent us down here for twisted bedtime stories as punishment…” she shakes her head.

“Or maybe,” Nesta’s cool tone rings out from behind. “She is sending us into some kind of freakish, bedtime-cult.” Feyre shudders, wrapping her arms around her ribs. You smack your forehead with your palm. Leave it to Nesta to come up with something like that…

“No bedtime stories, nor a cult gathering, ladies,” the woman responds cordially. She must have heard you. “Tonight’s workshop is about accountability, embarrassment, change, and growth!”

The group disbands, spreading out in a circle around the roaring fire. There are 8 terry cloth blankets laid in the sand, small pillows atop each. Assuming there is one for each person and one for the instructor, everyone takes their spot near a blanket.

However, it only takes a moment to realize that the pillows are embroidered, and the blanket you’ve chosen next to Feyre will not do, as your name is not “Emerie”.

“I think you might be over here,” Morrigan says, and you look up, hoping to meet her eye. You quickly realize she was talking to Nesta, who happily struts over to her blanket next to the blonde and sits.

It seems everyone has found their spot, and you keep searching, looking for the last open one.

“Y/N, is it?” The instructor asks. You look up, her face clouded behind the smoke of the fire.

“Yes,”

“I think you’re over here,” she gestures to the last spot, right next to her. Great, you thought. Not next to your friends, and you’d have to likely go first when doing things in a circle. How convenient.

You walk over, sitting between her and Gwyn, who gives you a small smile. Settling in, you look to her as well, noticing the faint dusting of freckles on her cheeks, and despite everything — you smile back.

ﾟ:* ✧

“As I’d hinted at before, we want to really focus on themes like accountability, embarrassment, change, and growth tonight,” the instructor begins. “Now, I heard you ladies had a rough morning, which we can talk about more later — but I want to know, does anyone have any guesses on what setting you’d see things like accountability, embarrassment, growth, and some change?”

It’s quiet for a moment, before a small chuckle sounds from across the burning logs.

“Maybe at the strip club?” Morrigan giggles, and Nesta’s hand claps over her own mouth at the response. You can’t help the small grin creeping onto your face as the instructor rolls her eyes.

“Yes, yes, very funny. I’m sure you’d definitely some growth and quite a bit of change tossed around in there,” she shakes her head. “But, on a serious note. These topics of the evening relate to the overarching theme of this workshop — a sleepover!”

To say she got more than a few confused looks would be selling it short.

“Sure, you might not always discuss things such as these at a sleepover with your best friends,” she elaborates. “But, the objective is to get everyone talking; all of you are experiencing this retreat in full, you can relate to one another and lean into each other in that way. Opening up to the people who go through these kinds of things with you will only make it easier to open up in relationships in the outside world.”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. Being questioned, prodded and having to say things you weren’t exactly good at expressing would be… well, tough.

To your right, Gwyn chewed on her lip. She seemed nervous too. You thought about this morning, how Lana played her intimate moment with Azriel for the group like that…

The thought only made you angry. Angry for her.

“Let’s get started then — I won’t truly keep you here all night,” the instructor chuckled, adjusting atop her blanket and cradling her pillow. She looked around, then settled on the girl to her left.

“Ahh,” she sighed, squinting at the embroidery on the girl’s pillow. “Amren. Let’s begin with you, shall we?”

ﾟ:* ✧

Each girl was given an opportunity to hash out their feelings, respond to the questions the instructor asked, and then go around and give one “honesty” to everyone, ending with themselves and their current partner if they have one.

Everyone so far had done so well, you were impressed by how emotional some of the women were getting. Amren of course didn’t cry, but her “honesty” to Emerie about being happy she made a new friend was really touching.

During Nesta’s turn, it was hard watching her struggle and calculate how to answer each question. The instructor called her out on it, and by the end, she was expressing her excitement over Cassian — and how much his never-ending endearment scared her a bit.

Morrigan made you smile, always. She told you she was happy to call you a friend, and even apologized to Nesta for how she acted toward her initially. It was nice to see, the full circle of it all.

Emerie took her turn, discussing her childhood trauma which clenched your heart and made you realize how hard some people have had it. You felt so terrible, you had no idea. You were happy to see Feyre comforting her as she let it all out — admittedly, feeling much better afterward.

Speaking of… Feyre did bring you to the brink of tears. She spoke of how meeting Rhys has been so special, but finding friends like you and Mor are what she will take away more than anything from this retreat.

The lump in your throat only grew at that.

Gwyn was surprising, as she brought up her past relationships and how she didn’t trust Azriel at first. That, you could relate to — Elain, of course. You saw it in her eyes when she talked about it, but when she talked about him now, a new light was brought into her face, one that you were happy she was able to find. One you hoped no one would take away, or embarrass her for, again.

“Y/N, are you ready?”

You swallowed hard. No.

“Of course,” It came out shaky at best.

All of your past. The relationships, the dynamics. The toxic ones, the good ones, the almosts — every card was on the table. But she just kept pushing. You felt that with every answer, there came a new question. Were the other girls talked to this long?

“…I see you’ve been through some difficult relationships,” the instructor says. “But, you seem very happy in your current one?”

Your cheeks flush, the silence loud against the crashing of waves on the shore. The image of Lucien flashed in your mind, when he’d been out there in those waves. So carefree, so beautiful.

“I… I am.” You say, your eyes meeting her soft gaze.

“Do you think you’d, stay with him? Outside of the retreat?” She eases.

Oh boy. Here’s the hard part. You glance around, everyone’s eyes on you. You knew the answer, what you wanted to say, what you wanted to be true — but, you refused to be wrong, to be bitten and look like a fool in the end.

“Maybe, I mean, I-“

“Ah, ah,” she urges. “I feel like that’s not really what you want to say. In here.” The instructor points to your heart, and you glance down at it, as though you can see through your clothes, your skin, your bones right to it. If you could only say what you felt, you’d tell her right now that you’d rip it out of your fucking chest and hand it to him if he simply asked.

You didn’t realize in the silence that a tear slid down your cheek, only registering the feeling when a cool hand wraps around your own. You look to your right, your eyes burning when they meet a pair of turquoise blue ones staring encouragingly at you.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” Gwyn says quietly. “All of us are here with you. You’re not alone.” She smiles, and a river of tears floods over your waterline as you look between each girl, staring back at you with just as much encouragement.

You wipe your cheek with the back of your hand, your heart beating out of control as you clutch your pillow against your chest. Taking a long breath, you look directly at the fire, its dying embers smoldering as dark as the night sky.

“I will. I have to. He’s…” Your shoulders shake as a small smile creeps into your face, a steady mantra replaying over and over in your mind. Lucien. Lucien. Lucien.

“He’s … the best man I’ve met. In a really, really long time,” you continue. “I… I go to sleep, thanking the Cauldron I’m laying next to him. I wake up, so excited to learn more about him. I talk to him like I’ve known him my entire life, I…” You breathe heavily, looking around. Nesta’s hands cover her grin, and Feyre looks to you through her teary lashes.

“Well,” the instructor drawls, her smile evident. “I’m very pleased you got all of that off of your chest, and I’m hoping now that you’ve expressed it, you’ll be open to sharing these feelings with him as well.” She says, and you smile down at your pillow, swatting away your remaining tears.

“Because it seems to me, the feelings you share with him go a bit deeper than just liking him, dear.”

ﾟ:* ✧

You slowly pulled back the covers on your side of the bed, moving as silently as possible in hopes to not stir anyone -- especially the male sleeping on the other side. His shoulders rose and fell every few seconds, the soft sounds of his sleepy snores bringing a little smile to your face.

The mattress dipped slightly when you sat on it, slipping beneath the covers as quickly as you could. It was a challenge, especially in the dark; but, that's what you got for staying up later than everyone else to shower. After the retreat, you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and walking back to the villa, you only felt positive about the relationships you had formed while being on the retreat.

As you snuggled deeped under the covers, you stilled when Lucien suddenly angled his shoulders toward you. You saw his profile, his face scrunching in the darkness. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand -- even in the dim room, you could make out the arcs of his muscled arms reaching above him.

"Mmm... Y/N..." he drawled, his voice gravelly and thick and so, so sexy from sleep. You leaned close, delicately placing your hand on his arm and leaning in to whisper against his ear.

"I'm sorry, I tried not to wake you-" He breathed deep, shifting to roll to his other side. He faced you now, but his eyes were still shut. He didn't hesitate in reaching his arms around your middle, drawing you as close as he could get you to him.

"I missed you," he said lowly, and you grinned, running your fingers through his long tendrils. He hummed in gratification, a little smile on his sleepy face.

"I missed you too sweetheart," you say.

"Smell so good," he drabbled on, breathing deep again. You giggled quietly, moving ever so slightly out of his grasp.

"Well, I just showered, my hair is still really wet-"

His brows furrowed, and he squinted his eyes open in the dark.

"C'mere baby."

You wiggled closer, and his arms fully encased you against his chest, his fingers playing down the column of your spine. You couldn't help but melt into his touch, his intoxicating earthy scent only a reminder of the spine-tingling moment you'd allowed yourselves to indulge in the night before.

This time, instead of feeling embarassed by your actions -- you allowed yourself to drift of to the memories of those wonderful, reckless, carefree moments, only hoping that when you left Lana's retreat, the two of you could share more of the same.

･ﾟ: *✧

The music from the tiki bar was blasting so loud you felt like it had transcended through the air, in through your ears, and was now embedded in your bones. The air was thick with the scent of the sea, but the sound of the waves was much too overpowered by the bass coming through the speakers.

Bodies around you moved back and forth, jumping, sometimes tilting their heads back as they downed another shot -- you knew you should have stopped hours ago. The neon lights blended together, pink and blue and yellow in the sky. You didn't care; inside, you were warm.

After the Tito's, you had to call it. You were holding up well until Lucien appeared in the corner of your eye -- and when he started talking, those inviting lips so close, practically asking for yours -- you knew you were done for.

When his hands touched you... now that's when you formulated your little plan.

You felt so needy, and frankly, you didn't care about money. Lucien was what you wanted, and the way his cock pulsed against your stomach... all it would take is some clothing removal, and there we go, he's all yours.

"I won't be able to just talk to you. When you look. Like that." He growled, his dominance sending heat straight to my core. I shifted on the balls of my feet, the gauzy fishnet fabric stretched across my chest scratching against his.

"I can barely hear you over this music," You say loudly, biting my lip and staring up at him with wide eyes. He huffs, tearing his gaze away from where my body connected with his.

When he looked at me again, his eyes narrowed. "If we go to the pool deck, will you promise to be good?" He asked, clearly agitated that he had to hold himself back. You grinned as he fell right into your little trap.

What was even better was that no one was on the pool deck. The ligths were dimmed, and the water was illuminated by the underwater glowing bulbs. Lucien sighed, propping himself on the sofa near the edge and leaning back.

You sat on his knee, and he frowned at you.

"Y/N, we said we'd talk-"

"Let's talk," you said, your arms draping over his shoulders. You leaned in, your hands playfully squeezing his shoulderblades as you let out a light giggle.

"Y/N..."

"You're so strong," you praised, adjusting your position so you straddled him instead. He sucked in a breath, his hands braced on your hips as you wiggled around on his lap.

"Y/N." He said sternly, and you pulled back, looking straight into his eyes.

"Hmm?" You hummed, your heart sinking as his expression hardened.

"We've been so good this whole time, babe," he explained, and you reached out to toy with a strand of his hair. "We're supposed to get a light first before we... well..." he trails off. You drop your hand, sitting back on his thighs as tears well in your eyes.

"You... don't... want me like that?" You ask, your bottom lip poking out dramatically. His eyes soften at your words, the realization in your reaction hitting him in full.

"No! No sweetheart, I just..." he cups your cheek with his hand, and you lean forward once more. "I need you to know I care about more than just this, alright? I care about you." He stops short, his eyes falling as he searches for the right words. Even as you toe the line of blacking out, one thing is clear; for him, you'd give up every cent of that prize fund. It means nothing -- for you, he was the real prize, and you'd won the moment you met him on the boat the first day you'd arrived.

"Lucien," you let out a breathy moan, inching closer as you grind your hips back and forth against the tent in his shorts. His eyes flutter closed, his lips parting as short breaths escape him.

"Oh... fuck, baby," he utters, his fingers squeezing the flesh of your hips as you continue your minstrations, his erection continuing to harden. Your hands brace against his shoulders as you lean in, not giving one damn about any money or prize fund while you shamelessly open your mouth, your tongue licking a fat stripe from his collarbone to his ear.

The sound that comes from his throat can only be described as primal, his hips thrusting up off of the sofa and harshly rubbing against your clit.

"Fuck," you cry out as his gaze focuses on you once more, your cleavage on display before his very eyes. The images running through his head are absolutely mouthwatering, but something Lana would never approve of.

"If I could," he pants breathlessly, continuing to dry-fuck you. "I would have... oh Gods, Y/N... I would have bent you over... the minute we walked into... the private villa..." he groans, and you tangle your fingers through his hair.

"You... you feel so good Lucien," you squeak out, before he grabs your hips and tosses you onto your back on the cushions. You let out a devilish laugh as he leans over you, his sly smile illuminated in the iridescent moonlight.

"You're not being a very good girl," he tuts, his hands lifting the arch of your back gently before unhooking your top. You gasp as he pulls it clean off of you, tossing the heart-covered thing right into the pool.

"Lucien!"

His only response is his teeth grazing your neck, sucking gently as he plays with your boobs. His fingers pull at your already hardened nipples, pinching and bouncing them while he smirks.

"Fucking perfect," he admires, his gaze now trained on the spot just beneath the right one. His eyes flick to yours only for a moment before his lips attach to the spot, kissing and biting at the skin there.

"Lucien... ahh, oh Gods yes..." you babble on, only slightly distracted by his thigh inbetween your legs, his bent knee propping him up above you. Instinctively, you drag your clothed pussy along his thigh, the only thing separating your skin from his being your lacy underthings which are surely soaked by now.

He nips particularly hard and you squeal, your fingers tugging lightly on his roots. His eyes find yours in a disapproving look.

"Don't get greedy now, sticky fingers," he says, licking his bottom lip again at the sight of your top half bare beneath him. "I'm just making sure everyone knows who you belong to."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Innata Malevolentia - Part One

Summary: there is something unsettling about Ettore that she can't quite put her finger on, and perhaps something deeper and more sinister about her check-ups with Dibs | Word Count: 3.2k ~ | warnings below the cut!

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

warnings: mentions of past non-con crimes (but vague), masturbation (f), intimate examinations, Ettore being creepy

Why do they put windows in here?

That's the constant thought that rattles around her brain, demanding an answer, but unable to find one.

She stands, by herself, arms crossed and neck craned to look up at the skylight. A box of light and cosmic colour, carved into the pitch black darkness, bathing her face in a cool, extraterrestrial glow.

It doesn't feel warm, like the sun would.

In fact it's freezing, like being dunked under a cold shower. Like that feeling when you're just about to fall from an extreme height, but your feet stay planted, arms stretched out for balance, but your weight wants to pull you down without the real force to do it.

Heart going fast, breath burning in your lungs and blood pumping around your body at such speed, it makes you feel weightless.

That's how looking at the stars and the endless abyss of the universe makes her feel.

Uneasy.

Getting closer but also further away at the same time.

If she looks at it too long she feels a bit sick, like the loops on a rollercoaster, her stomach feeling airborne for a moment.

The air conditioning nips at her arms, every little hair standing right on end. They don't even have the decency in this hellish place to pretend it's a warm, safe place to be.

How safe is she, surrounded by the most dangerous criminals, all free to roam the ship at their leisure?

Criminals including her.

There are a few people she knows she should be afraid of, and a few who are largely harmless until pushed that little bit too far, but they all have their tells.

Only Dibs has access to their records.

Only she knows what they've all done to deserve being here.

That smug-faced, cocky witch, knows everything, and says nothing about it, but carries herself as if she is any better herself. Her chin tilted up, putting on her professional facade that everyone seems to have seen through already.

The look, as if she was judging them.

But she was sick of being judged. Many had already judged her before, and doomed her to a lifetime of imprisonment because of it.

They're all monsters here.

Convicted to die on this ship, years away from Earth, from all she knows.

Not like it assisted her in any way, being on Earth. Her life had been riddled with constant failures at different points in her life, some her fault, some not.

But that's life, she muses constantly, to try and apply some reason to her existence.

Here, there's a level of freedom. No chains or bars on her cells at least. No guards to shout in her face or threaten with batons.

And yet, that feeling of being confined to a room is eclipsed by the feeling of being confined by nothingness.

She often wondered, what were her family doing right now? The little family she had left.

What was anyone back on Earth doing right now?

Had much changed?

She knew she only thought of these things because of how uneventful the ship always was. A routine set in stone, like commandments.

Wake up. Eat. Exercise. Eat. Whatever duty they were assigned. Eat. Shower. Sleep.

A monotonous, tiresome regime.

Designed to make life here as dull and boring as possible.

She's not stupid. She knows some of the crimes worthy of a death sentence.

Murder. Rape. In some cases, fraud. Which, in the same breath, seemed so tame, it could hardly be compared.

But she guessed most of them were here for murder.

It was too dangerous to think they were here for anything else. She didn't want the idea anywhere near her.

People like Monte, Tchemy, Mink. She could see those kind of people just snapping. Doing something they would later regret for the rest of their lives, and are currently paying the punishment for.

Boyse, Dibs and Nansen seemed different.

If they did murder, it would have been planned in a moment of madness.

But these were all just guesses.

One she couldn't guess for the life of her, was him.

Ettore.

An all-round weird guy. There was no other word she could think of to describe him.

Perhaps, unsettling?

In such small proximity, she sees him mostly everyday. And everytime she does, a chill prickles at her skin as she feels his eyes on her.. When she dares to look back at him, to see if he will look away, embarrassed at being caught, the pit in her stomach gets heavier when she sees he doesn't.

His blue eyes unapologetically stuck on hers, before wanding in a waving pattern all over her body, pausing at the places she might expect a man to.

His gaze would linger, but he never would.

He was like a whisper. Gone before you could even hear him approach.

In a way, that's what scared her the most. That she might be walking anywhere, in the supposed 'safety' of the artificial day or the darkness of the evening, and he might be following.

Silently.

And watching alongside it.

For what? She wasn't sure.

Was he trying to map out her movements, trying to find a set routine in her everyday life? To find ways of getting her alone to do god knows what?

Based on what she assumed about him, she made sure she was never truly by herself. Never vulnerable.

He looked like the kind to prey on vulnerability.

And therefore, women.

As he perceived them weaker, smaller, less able than him.

Not able to fight him off. Even if they tried.

Out of all the women, Mink was the easiest to talk to. To cling to.

She wasn’t even really sure how they filled their time. For what could they even talk about? Nobody wanted to talk about their crimes, or their life back on Earth. A life where everything seemed easier. Where one day they’d be told that today was their last day, and justice would be coming for them the next.

Death seemed a mercy compared to this.

Mid-spoonful of an undoubtedly terrible meal in the mess hall, Mink winces, one hand at her lower stomach.

“Period?” she asks.

Mink scoffs, shoving whatever beige looking meaty substance into her mouth, trying to act as if the pain didn’t bother her. But she just shakes her head, “I wish. Dibs’ latest checkup wasn’t the nicest”

Everything seemed to circle back to that old hag, who had shouldered control over the ship like some kind of cosmic dictator after the official captain, Chandra, died. Though she is no better than any of them, she certainly pretends to be, assuming herself to be the next kind of authority, when really, if everyone was smart enough to band together, each of them could easily do away with her.

But she was the only doctor.

And that was precious.

But why Dibs feels the need to inspect each of the women so intimately, on such a regular basis, makes a chill rattle through her body. The idea that Dibs has some kind of idea, some agenda, but isn’t telling them, is as terrifying as the endless darkness to some degree.

“What did she want this time?” she asks, pushing the inedible sludge around her plate. Though hungry, she feels little desire to actually eat anything.

Mink shrugs, “The usual I suspect. Just ‘checking on our normal bodily functions’” she replies as if quoting from the woman herself, scoffing like she doesn’t believe a word of that nonsense.

“I think she’s doing something fucking weird to us” Mink muses.

Curiosity nips at her ears as she raises her head to her fellow inmate, “Like what?”

Mink scans her periphery, checking if any of the other inmates are listening, too preoccupied with their own meals to care.

“I felt her put something inside me”

A chill settles at the back of her neck, where all her baby hairs stand on end.

Mink continues, “Boyse got a good look at what was going on. Says she thinks Dibs is trying to get us pregnant, for her psycho experiments”

Her eyes scan the table, as if trying to find answers where there are none, “She can’t do that, surely-”

“Oh yeah and who’s gonna stick up for us?” Mink interrupts, her face flat, expression cold. What she says is so unapologetically laced with the truth, but does little to take the prodding sting of panic from her.

“The people on Earth?” Mink scoffs, shoving yet another mouthful of food past her lips, “we are literally the worst of the worst. We waived the right to defense a long time ago”

Again. It’s true.

But it still does nothing to quell her nerves.

“All we have is ourselves” she adds, “and sometimes I don’t know if we can even trust that”

Having had enough, Mink leaves, carrying her tray back.

A kind of aching dread settles in the back of her mind.

For what reason would Dibs want any of them to get pregnant?

This was no place for a child, and certainly not equipped to deal with childbirth. And on top of that, who the fuck does Dibs think she is?

If she’s trying to get the women pregnant, surely, she must be getting the sperm from somewhere.

Monte was very vocal and proud of the fact he would never even touch another woman. For some inexplicable reason.

Maybe Dibs was forcing the men to do it. As she was the women and the examinations.

When her eyes scan the room, she sees him in her periphery first, his eyes like when you shine a torch in the darkness and see those two blinking amber orbs, staring right back at you. Unmoving. Like they are watching you in still and silence, as you are doing the same to them.

Even though she looks away as soon as they lock eyes, taken completely off guard that he had been staring in her direction to begin with, she still feels the way her skin prickles, feeling as if lots of gentle needles are prodding at the surface of her flesh, but not pressing hard enough to puncture.

It is like trying to hide, knowing there is nowhere to hide. Like wanting to disappear, in a place where there is only this harsh, blue light.

As she stares at her plate, the handle of her fork slovenly sliding into the beige mush, making her want to gag, she still feels it. The intensity of his gaze.

Nothing about it is warm.

He doesn’t even break as he spoons more food into his mouth, as if on auto-pilot, and completely infatuated. Like when you watch a movie and feel like you can’t blink, otherwise you’ll miss something.

It’s as if darkness seeps out of him, like a disease or a virus, flooding every inch of clear air he invades, swallowing the oxygen in the room. She often wonders about him, curiously.

How such a person, a mere man, can have that kind of effect.

Her watch beeps. Dibs wants her again.

But at least it's an excuse to leave.

And yet, she feels the intensity of his stare burning the back of her head as she does.

"Deep breath for me"

As if taking a deep breath will take away the sting of shoving that metal speculum inside her, lube or not.

She winces slightly at the discomfort, her hands forming fists where they're laying on her stomach. Staring up at the ceiling, she tries to loosen the muscles that are so tense and tight, she imagines it's not doing her any favours.

"Oh stop. It isn't that bad" Dibs says. She talks to her as if she's speaking to a child, presenting with a scraped knee, complaining that they're afraid the leg might fall off.

It only makes her want to punch her square in the face.

"What's the point of this again?" She asks, annoyance colouring her tone.

Dibs sighs, clamping the instrument open inside her, stretching her in a new place that feels like a dull ache.

"I am checking your reproductive health"

She could almost laugh at the vague response.

"So what? We can be your guinea pigs for your fertility experiments?" She adds, scoffing as she feels a swab poke at her cervix.

Dibs doesn't even have the decency to really deny it.

"I am devoted to reproduction" she explains, "the human body is an extraordinary thing. It can withstand an incredible amount of stress"

Ah, so that's why.

She wants to see if a baby can survive in these conditions.

She can't help but think that's just a bit sick.

"You are scum. All of you. This may give you some purpose in life, if you let it"

She laughs through her nose at that.

"And what does that make you?" She says, "playing god with dangerous criminals, being no better yourself"

"I did not say I was better" Dibs argues, still between her legs, with a light illuminating her work.

"And yet you feel like it's completely justified to try and get us pregnant against our will" she replies, shaking her head slightly, "you're no better than us. You're worse"

"Keep saying it and it does not change anything" Dibs sits up, reaching over to grab a clear tub. She doesn't see exactly what it is, but has an idea when she feels another instrument at her most intimate areas, pushing something inside.

Mink wasn't lying.

She was trying to artificially inseminate them. With the other prisoner's sperm.

It almost made her gag a little.

"You are a fine specimen" Dibs says, pulling the instruments she'd used out to sterilise later, "there is no reason why you cannot become pregnant in my view"

She can't help but laugh, "my body obeys me. Won't happen"

But Dibs just laughs back.

"We will see about that" she muses, "get dressed"

There's only one saving grace from being here. Away from him.

The Box.

As terrible as it sounded, it was her haven in this horrendous place.

Nobody was more shocked when Dibs announced it.

"You are not permitted to fraternise with the other prisoners. You may use the on-site masturbatory aid, The Box, should you feel the desire"

It seemed a strange thing to her, to include such a thing on a ship. For people who barely deserved to live, they deserved to at least have the privacy to get themselves off?

It was very weird.

But she didn't complain. Beats touching yourself in a cell you share with two other people.

She was only grateful she didn't have the bunk bed.

The Box could generally have a few people waiting to use it. And whenever she saw a queue for it, she grimaced and turned away, like she never intended to use it in the first place.

She knew other people had their way in it, but for some reason seeing them lined up outside waiting to have a fiddle, made her recoil back into herself.

It was almost sad that people had to wait for the supposed enjoyable experience. And having to watch them wait their turn.

Tonight though, she simply entered The Box as Boyse came out, not sparing a glance at each other when they crossed.

Not because they didn't get on. But because it offered some sense of privacy, to not acknowledge what they were here for.

Without embarrassment.

Everyone had urges after all.

It had been so long since she'd been with anyone. A long time before they even left Earth, as they certainly didn't let them fraternise with anyone within their earthly prison. Male or female alike.

At the beginning, it took her a while to get into the groove of using the Box. But now it had become second nature.

Once the door was shut, she did her business, bringing herself to peak on her fingers. Not being able to find it within herself to use the phallus on the table. It was just too weird.

Luckily for her, time passed slowly at least when she pleasured herself. Pressing her lips together to prevent any sounds from coming out. Apart from the whiny, hurried breaths that spilled from her with her orgasm, rolling in waves numbly through her limbs.

Feeling her heartbeat through her bud and a pulsing in her blood, she pulls her sweatpants back over her hips, sighing and smoothing her hair down. Pressing the button to exit, there's a lull in her horrendous situation. A brief, fleeting moment where it's just her, her feet shuffling in front of one another, her body heavy with pleasure, but light at the same time.

That is until the creaking of metal, of footsteps making their way down the ladder, bounces off the walls.

The hallway suddenly seems so much narrower, darker, with his presence.

She doesn't quite realise when he's sat down or stood far away, but now, almost right before her, she's struck by his sheer size. How tall and broad he seems in comparison. It sends a nervous chill over her bare arms, the skin beneath the short sleeves rippling up with goosebumps.

She swallows as they briefly make eye contact.

In the time she's known of him, he emotes very little. But here, seeing the faint flush on her face from the efforts of her time in the Box, one side of his lips curl up almost unnoticeably. His arms swing barely as he walks past her, his arm brushing against her shoulder, like he intended to do it.

Just the faintest touch, seems to give him something.

But it only makes her feel ill.

She dare not imagine what he could be thinking. Plotting.

She hears him murmur something deeply, a breathy laugh accompanying it.

Pivoting on her foot, her eyes find him down the hallway, where she just was, at the entrance to the Box.

"What?"

Half in, half out, his face turns over his shoulder, a faint smirk on his features as he steps backwards into the chamber.

With his messy blonde hair, once overgrown and cut himself, striking blue eyes, he would be attractive. If she didn't know him.

"Fucking cocktease" he muses, "playing hard to get, are we?"

The blood that rushed to her face before, suddenly drains.

His voice is like the purr of a cat. Calculated. A whisper, but not at the same time.

It frightens her. In a way only a man can frighten a woman with his words.

She's about to open her mouth to retort when he says.

"It's alright, I like a little struggle"

When he disappears behind the door, her blood has a chill to it.

She thinks of returning to her cell. Thinks about the fact that, since Boyse lashed out on Dibs and tried to conjure up a makeshift douche one evening, the women had been reduced to being tied down by their wrists as they slept.

The men don't.

She knows sleep won't come to her that night.

That she'll be sat awake, her wrists tied at her sides, hoping and praying that Ettore isn't fucked up enough to pay her a visit in this vulnerable state.

Perhaps, by staying awake, he won't.

She watches the doorway, hearing the faint click of skin walking on the linoleum floor in slow, careful movements. Her heart goes fast, blood pumped with pure adrenaline.

She sees his form, lit by blue, lithe, broad and littered with wiry muscle. His eyes, glimmering at her, seeing she's awake. His lips as they quirk up at the sides, like he's amused by what he sees.

Even as he carries on, walking out of view, she knows…

…that it's only a matter of time, until he has the courage to not just watch her.

And that here, she cannot escape him.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301  | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires  | @risefallrise  | @theoneeyedprince  | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya  | @urmomsgirlfriend1  | @valeskafics  | @watercolorskyy

Ettore Taglist: @bellaisasleep | @iamavailablesstuff | @the-common-cowgirl  | @theroyaldixon | @ultraintrovertedgryffindor

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Introducing... 8 am in the (fucking) neighborhood

Papyrus is back with the groceries.

Unfortunately, his Karen neighbor is still mad at him for ruining her perfect white wall.

Alas, Papyrus is in trouble once again! (or not).

You can read it down the line or on AO3:

8 a.m in the neighborhood

Papyrus finally had his groceries. After a long morning that almost felt like an entire year, the house was finally in sight. He took a look at the clock in his car. He had to meet with Undyne at 2 p.m., which meant he would have to leave at precisely 1:38 p.m. to be on time. It would leave him plenty of time to clean the groceries and wait by the door until it was time to leave.

The skeleton turned at the end of the road to park in his alley. Or at least he intended to. Because he had to stop almost immediately.

His two bins were in the middle of the alley again.

Oh no. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Please, please just leave him alone…

A terrible knock on his window made him jump out of his bones. He looked up in disbelief. Here she was once again.

His Karen neighbor.

Papyrus tried to keep his cool. Everyone said he was the most patient monster they had ever met. So he was going to honor them and be patient with her as well. He could do this. He was the Great Papyrus after all!

He forced a smile and rolled down the window.

"DEAR NEIGHBOR, WE MEET AGAIN! IS SOMETHING WRONG?"

"Something wrong? You dare to ask me if something is wrong? You ruined my wall!"

Papyrus turned around. Ah, yes. He almost forgot the amazing crack he made in that horrible perfect clean white house of hers. She was just dramatic. If he closed his eyes hard enough, no one could notice it.

The skeleton rolled his eyes. Where was he? Ah yes, being patient. He was the great Papyrus and according to Tumblr, he was supposed to be nice and always smiling, because cute boys can't be sad or have a bad day. He couldn't betray his Tumblr fans. He needed to stay in his role. Hum… What would his Tumblr fans do in these types of situations?

Oh!

He knew!

"RUINED IS A BIG WORD. YOU COULD EASILY HIDE IT. I SUGGEST YOU PUT A PRIDE FLAG ABOVE IT AS WE ARE IN JUNE, THE PROUDEST MONTH OF ALL!"

Well, for sure, Karen didn't expect that. Her face turned from angry to disgusted very fast. Did he say something wrong?

"You are one of them?"

"THEM?"

"Those people who are identifying to helicopters and wearing pink thongs in the streets. Don't you think you did enough already? You're going to contaminate the children with your… Ideology. We're respectable people in this street, you can't just show your pink string to the children and call that an identity. That's absolutely disgusting."

Papyrus shuts his mouth in a loud bone noise. He took a deep breath, then made a slow turn towards the screen of his phone, hanging to the opposite window of his car.

"DEAR TUMBLR FANS, I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS AS I WILL BE OBLIGED TO USE A LOT OF STRONG WORDS IN THE NEXT FEW SECONDS THAT ARE NOT VERY PAPYRUS AT ALL BUT HOLY FUCK. EXCUSE ME FOR A SECOND."

"Who are you even talking to? Do you hear voices?"

Papyrus forced a huge smile and met her eyes.

"JEEZ LADY, YOU ARE SOMETHING ELSE. I KNEW YOU WERE A RACIST FUCK ALREADY, BUT THAT'S EVEN MORE FUCKED UP SOMEHOW. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING? DO YOU THINK THIS IS A NORMAL THING TO SAY TO SOMEONE? DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT EDUCATION WHEN YOU HAVE THE LEVEL OF EDUCATION OF AN OYSTER."

She gasped loudly.

"I am not an oyster, you sick asshole!"

"THIS IS NOT THE POINT! YOU COULD BE A MOLLUSK OR A CRUSTACEAN FOR ALL I CARE, THIS DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING: YOUR OPINIONS ARE DISGUSTING, HURTFUL, AND DISGRADING. INSTEAD OF BEING JEALOUS OF ME AND MY GROCERIES, WHY WON'T YOU BUY SOME DECENCY TO THE GROCERY STORE? IT'S JUST TWO MINUTES DOWN THE STREET."

"I will talk to your brother about your behavior! If I can't make you realize how wrong you are, maybe he will! I can't believe how immature you are! What a shame for your kind! And gay with all of that! Poor, poor children! What an example you are for them!"

"FIRST OF ALL, I'M NOT GAY BUT ASEXUAL AND AROMANTIC. SECONDLY, I AM AN ADULT AND CAN TALK TO MYSELF. AND LAST…"

"if it can help, i don't identify as a helicopter but i for sure wear bright pink thongs. they're cute." Sans said from the first-floor window, watching the drama show playing in the street. "also, my bro is right. he's not gay. i am though. need something else?"

Karen opened and closed her mouth in shock, like a dying goldfish. She then let out a scream of rage and left, raging. Sans lazily waved goodbye at her as Papyrus, very satisfied, flipped his two middle fingers in her back. Anyway. He still had groceries to clean.

Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad after all.

Fuck Karens.

[adaptacy]

Hi! Since requests are open I wanted to suggest a second part to the fic you wrote about Johnny escaping from prison and tracking you down, obviously sexually frustrated, missing the touch of his partner and being treated with basic human decency. It would be so cool if you could make it angsty too 🥲

hiiii anon! here you go :)

no smut here but rough treatment/handling and angst.

It was gentle, but it was still a push. A push away. He remained in the same spot, though his head recoiled, and he looked down at you, eyes narrowed, irritated with your choice. "Why?" He hissed.

"It's been twelve years. You're a fugitive, Johnny. I- I have a son. We can't be doing this," you stammer, shaking your head as you keep him away with a palm against his chest. "I'm sorry."

"None of that shit matters. C'mon, darlin'. I've missed you," he stressed, pushing back against your hand and nearing your lips again, but you pulled away.

"I'm serious. I'm sorry, maybe I led you on, but... I never intended to- Can't you see? Don't you... see the problem?" You asked, your voice light, trying to remain unaccusatory. You understood him to an extent; you'd been able to make a life for yourself, and he'd been nothing but a spectator to the outside world. You were living a completely different story from his. And your paths had crossed in the past, but they weren't meant to cross again.

Hell, he was supposed to be in jail. Both of you knew that very well. Every day that he was out may be his last day before the cops found him again. You couldn't just cling onto a fading memory like that. Never knowing when your kiss may be the last, never knowing how long he was going to be in your life. That was way too much stress, even if some part of you did still love him.

You'd tried loving others. Hell, you'd married one of them. Had a kid. But it wasn't the same. Nothing ever came close to what you and Johnny had all those years ago. And when the marriage fell through, he conveniently showed up a few months later. A possibility you never could've even dreamed of being real. And you dreamed about him quite often.

With a quiet sigh, you pushed him off of you and tried to step out of the way, but he grabbed the middle of your shirt and tugged you backwards, pushing you against the brick wall of the alley the two of you were in. He was tipsy, but he wasn't drunk enough to accidentally be rough. He was doing it on purpose. "Johnny, I'm not doing this."

"Just fuckin' explain it to me again. Tell me why," he demanded, looming over you, his tone nothing short of menacing.

"I have a family."

"No, you have a kid. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"I have a life- I can't go housing a fugitive," you argued.

"I got my own place. You ain't gotta house shit."

"I hardly even know you, it's been forever," you pushed.

"So? We'll get to know each other again."

"You're dangerous, Johnny!" You snapped, heart picking up it's pace as you shook your head at him. His expression fell, his head retracting a few inches. "You killed people. Broke out of prison. You-" You huffed, finding your voice shaky despite trying your best to remain calm. "You're bad news," you whispered.

There was silence on Johnny's end, his chest rising and falling with a sort of determination as if his anger was slowly bubbling up. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

"Please, just... let me go. I shouldn't have encouraged this, I'm sorry, Johnny. I think it's best if we part-"

"No. What the fuck did you just say to me?" He snarled, and you flinched, your breath caught in your throat. His grip on your shirt tightened, and he pushed his fist harsher into your chest, his breaths coming out in rough bouts. "You didn't give a shit about any of that twelve years ago. That husband of yours fuck you that good, huh? Think you're too good for someone like me now? Think you're gonna be a good little suburban wife who can't be caught with a criminal like me?"

"I didn't say any of that. And, god, no- He's an ex, for one, and-"

"Listen, little miss picket fence, I don't give a shit about your new life. Whether yer believin' you changed, whether you think I'm nothin' more than a fugitive, it-" Johnny huffed, looking down, some unfamiliar emotion crossing over his eyes. "It don't change what we had. You wanna go denyin' that?"

"Johnny, that was twelve years ago. You-"

"It don't matter. None of it fuckin' matters. Ain't you able to see that? You wouldn't have given me the time of day if you didn't miss me."

"Of course I missed you. But you're insane if you think that just... randomly showing up as a goddamn jailbird escapee is going to suddenly have me back on my knees, you need to have a reality check. Please understand," you begged, scoffing at his inability to see clearly.

"That's all I am to you now, huh?"

"What?"

"You were the only thing I thought about in those walls. The only thing encouragin' me to break out. The only thing keepin' me fightin' back against the rat bastards who went around pickin' fights. You think you're just gonna say no?" He scoffed, looking back up as he searched your eyes for something. What exactly, you weren't sure. "Ain't you scared, pumpkin? You think yer safe from me?"

You frowned, lifting a hand and slapping him square across the face, staring him dead in the eyes. His head turned at the impact, and he stared down the alley for a few moments. "I know I am. Get the fuck off of me, Sawyer."

"The hell'd you just call me?" Johnny finally returned his sights to you, and he released your shirt just to slide his hand up to your throat, tightening his fingers around it and forcing your head back.

"Get. Off," you repeated, stern despite how incredibly intimidated you were. He could very well snap your neck like it was nothing, and he had no reason not to; he was already on the run, it wasn't like crimes were something he was scared of. Especially not murder.

"You think you can just talk to me however the hell you want? You think I won't kill you?" He growled, and you grabbed at his arm as he squeezed even more, causing genuine difficulty breathing. As you strained for an inhale, he leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear, his every huff making you flinch. "I was made for you. You're s'posed to be mine. Ain't that what you said? Promised me you'd be mine forever. I'm just comin' to claim my property."

"I'm not- an object, Johnny," you choked, but he hardly seemed convinced. "I said that because I was young, and dumb. And I was in love," you strained, squeezing at his arm. "I don't love you anymore, Johnny."

He stared for a moment, and then surprisingly, released you. You coughed, rubbing your throat where he'd grabbed you, breathing heavily. You never realized you could take breathing for granted, but you certainly had.

"You left. You killed. And clearly, you haven't changed," you muttered, taking in a deep breath as you panted. "I thought you didn't belong in prison. But I read about what you did. I... I guess I thought you'd changed. Thought you'd learned your lesson. But you're still as aggressive as ever."

"Sweetpea, I-"

"Don't. You just tried to kill me. Don't- Just... I'm going to go. I don't want to see you again. Especially not around my kid," you demanded, and his mouth hung slightly open, some apologetic rage behind his eyes.

But he didn't say anything else. Just... let you walk away.

Truth be told, he would've killed you. You knew that. He had the means to, had the reasons to.

Why he didn't, you had no clue.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Congrats on the follower milestone, Trin!! For the lil fanfic suggestions, how about Sky and Warriors bonding? I do love how you write emotional hurt/comfort, and it would be cool if Wars were the one comforting, but these are all just suggestions! No worries if you don't feel inspiration from this prompt :) Hope you're having a good day!

Tysm @unclemoriarty !! And thanks for the prompt! I love writing Wars and Sky, especially when it’s angsty ;) I hope you like what I came up with!

No warnings, just some angst

———————-

Sky brushes a hand roughly across his eyes, trying to do away with the moisture there. He doesn’t deserve to cry. Not after everything. But the Shadow’s words still echo in his mind, a sentence he never wanted to shoulder.

…and yet has for years now.

“Have you told them yet?” Crimson eyes gleam in his mind’s eye. Cool metal presses against his neck. “Have you told them that you are responsible for all their pain?

“Tell me, hero, have you informed them of the curse you allowed to take root in your souls?”

Seeing their faces had been the worst of it. Worse than the wounds the Shadow had inflicted, worse than the fear and pain. They had looked at him, questioning, confused, and all he could do in the aftermath was spew a choked explanation full of excuses.

“I should’ve stabbed him right then and there. I shouldn’t have given him the mercy of another moment of life.” That is what it really comes down to. His foolish belief that he had won, that he could spare the fading god a few more seconds to breathe his last.

Decency and morality are things he clings to. They’re what make him a hero. He has no plans to release them now. But…

He gazes out into the dim light of a cloudy day, wincing as even that much brightness assaults his aching eyes.

But in this moment he is beginning to think his decision was more pride than anything else. Or…perhaps it was just exhaustion. A yearning for it all to be over so he could go collapse in his friends’ waiting arms, safe at last.

It doesn’t matter either way. The point is that he failed. And now others must shoulder the repercussions of that failure.

“Hey, Sky.”

He jolts abruptly out of his thoughts, breath hitching. In an instant, he is on his feet. But it is only the captain standing there, looking a bit damp from the drizzling rain.

“Sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Sky shakes his head, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“It’s fine.”

He turns away, flopping defeatedly back down onto the ground. If Warriors knows it for the sign Sky means it to be, he doesn’t indicate as much. Instead, he comes to sit down beside him.

“It’s not a very pleasant day today, is it?”

Sky doesn’t answer, but he can feel the captain’s eyes on him, searching, questioning, perhaps even judging. He fights not to crumble before their scrutiny.

“No,” he croaks, finally, “it’s not.”

Warriors has turned now to gaze out into the endless gray. Sky still feels exposed, raw. Suddenly, he has the distinct yearning to claw out of his own skin.

For another agonizing thread of minutes it is quiet. Then, Warriors speaks, his voice soft.

“We aren’t angry at you, Sky.”

Sky looks down at his boots and doesn’t reply. The silence is agonizing, but speaking is far worse.

Warriors allows it for a short while more.

“Did I ever tell you how the War of Ages began?” He says, finally, still soft, far softer than the captain usually sounds.

Sky shakes his head. Warriors chuckles, short and bitter.

“I figured as much. Well, you should know…it started because of me.”

Sky’s eyes widen slightly. He turns to Warriors, but the captain is facing away still, expression carefully guarded.

“A woman named Cia became obsessed with me without me even knowing it. She attacked Hyrule to get what she wanted. I wouldn’t give in — and neither would anyone else — and in the end we defeated her. But to get there, to obtain a victory…”

He ducks his head, that hollow chuckle ringing out again. It tears Sky’s heart in two.

“It’s what it means to be a hero, Sky,” he murmurs. “To lose, to fail, if only to succeed in the end. We carry heavy burdens — every single one of us.”

Finally, he turns to Sky, a sad smile on his lips. Gently, he puts a hand on Sky's shoulder.

“But if we stick together we’ll be alright. Trust me.”

Sky swallows hard. Tears still pick at his eyes and the lump in his throat warns of the sobs that are still to come. Far away he can make out a dark haze amongst all the gray — rain approaching fast. He watches it through blurred eyes.

“I’m sorry about the war,” he says, quietly. It’s not enough — he knows it isn’t. What can he say to wash away Warriors’ guilt, his pain?

“Not your fault. And I didn’t tell you to gain your pity. I told you because I wanted you to know that I understand. And I know the others do too.” His arm is around Sky now, drawing him in, nudging away his barriers. “That’s why we don’t blame you. Why would we when we all bear our own guilt?”

Sky inhales shakily. The rain is even closer now. They will likely be soaked soon. But with Warriors warm and steady beside him, he can’t bring himself to care.

He doesn’t deserve this comfort. The war that had made Warriors a hero wouldn’t have even happened without his failure, after all. Yet, he feels incapable of pulling away.

“I’m sorry anyway,” he murmurs, thickly, because words are all he has to offer. “Even if you don’t blame me for the curse…I’m sorry.”

Warriors doesn’t reply. But he coaxes Sky closer until the Skyloftian is resting on his shoulder. And when the rain comes pouring down and Sky shatters beneath it, Warriors holds him tightly while he sobs.

[cosmicanemoia]

Things and Doubts

Amelia Shepherd x Reader (broken up)

Amelia Shepherd x Kai Bartley (back together)

Love Me Till You Leave Me part 14

You have been mustering some courage to get some of the things that you've left in Amelia's place. After some time, you finally have enough courage to get your some of your things from Amelia's place.

As you walk over to her place, you feel yourself lacking the courage 'you haven't saved up enough' you thought to yourself, but you're already there and if you back out now, you won't be able to anymore.

You still had your key and you still know the pass code, atleast that's what you think, you hoped she hasn't change the locks or the pass code, and to your luck, it wasn't.

There's one major detail you have forgotten. Someone else might be there. Someone else named Kai. "You're y/n, right?" You turn around in shock hearing that question, and you see Kai standing with her arms crossed in their chest, "Uh-- yes. I texted Amelia to let her know I'm getting my things. I didn't know someone would be here, I can come back later if I'm intruding."

K:No, it's okay. Please continue.

Y/N: Thanks. I'll be quick.

K: Take your time.

A few silently awkward moments later. Kai cleared their throat, which made you look at them. "That's pretty cool. Not making her feel guilty for not choosing you." They said, which made you confused, you scoff, "where did that come from? We don't need to make small talks if you don't want to." You chuckled. "I'm just saying. Not everyone would do that." They said, which made you stop what you're doing and look them straight in the face, "she have nothing to be guilty of. And, it is not cool. It's just the mature and right thing to do. You know, basic human decency 101. I can't remember where I've read it." You chuckled at your own joke. You can tell that they tried to hold back a chuckle but failed anyway. "Damn! I can't hate you even if I wanted to." You raised your eyebrows at them, "uh-- thanks?" Then you narrowed your eyes, they try to defend their last sentence by saying, " I didn't mean anything by it. It was just-- you, uh---" ending the unfinished thoughts that can't be formed by words in a scoff, they scoff and just smiles, "Sure. Whatever." You replied, letting them know you get what they mean.

There is this awkward silence again. The only sound is when one of you cleared their throats. When you move things, it is so silent you can hear yourself breath. And it went on until you finished packing and getting your things.

************Later that night************

Amelia and Kai are now cuddled up in bed. There is silence still, but for them, it wasn't awkward. It was just soothing. "Y/N took the last of her things earlier." Kai said, and Amelia just hummed as a response.

Kai wandered in their own mind. They would remember insignificant little moments like how they thought they caught Amelia stealing glances, looking at y/n. How would Amelia smile every time she saw y/n smiling around the hospital. How Amelia quickly turns around to avoid y/n's gaze.

Without Kai's knowledge that Amelia is already sleeping, they blurted out, "Are you still in love with Y/N?". When they got no response, they checked and looked at Amelia, 'she was sleeping,' they thought as they let out a sigh.

They tried to go to sleep, but they just couldn't. Something is bothering them, and they can't get it out of their mind. As Kai is about to fall asleep, Amelia unconciously shuffled on the bed that makes them look at her.

Since Kai couldn't sleep, they sat up on the bed to watch Amelia sleep. How beautiful and peaceful Amelia looked while she slept. While Kai watches Amelia, a smile forms on her girlfriend's lips, and then she mumbles something. Kai moved their ear closer to Amelia's mouth so they could hear what she was saying in her sleep. Their curiosity only broke their heart as they heard her say "y/n" in her sleep while she smiled and slept soundly.

Kai finally fell asleep but not as peaceful as Amelia. They fell asleep wondering what her girlfriend was dreaming about, why she said that name, and why was she smiling as she dreamed of y/n. Wondering if Amelia is still in love with Y/N.

In the morning, Kai woke up first even if they slept last and late. They caress Amelia's face as she sleeps, but it only wakes Amelia up. "You were dreaming last night." Kai whispered. "I am?" Amelia asked, confused. "Yes," Kai responded

"How would you know?" The blue-eyed girl asked. "You were smiling and humming and saying something last night. You said y/n's name in your sleep. " Kai vocalise, Amelia, who's shocked and confused, "I did? Really?" She then chuckled nervously, having an idea where this conversation might be going. "Yes," the brown eyed person replies monotonously. "I don't know. I don't remember." She depended herself. "Was it a sex dream?" Kai asks, Amelia quickly said, "What!? I told you, I don't know and I don't remember. Now let's get some coffee. " She stood up from the bed and tried to go to the bathroom to wash her face, but Kai suddenly grabbed Amelia's hand, making her fall right back into bed. They were both shocked at how their conversation quickly escalated to this. Whatever this is. Kai tried to apologize and explain themselves, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to---" but Amelia quickly cut them off and frustratedly utter "what is it?" They both let out a sigh, and there was silence for a minute.

Amelia is now standing beside the bed while Kai is still in bed, half lying, half sitting. "Are you still in love with y/n?" They finally asked the question they've been dying to know the answer to.

Both of their hearts are beating loudly on their chest. Amelia is silent for a moment, thinking how could they ask her such questions. Before she could think of a rational answer, she just blurted out, " Stop with these nonsense. Let's go get coffee... Don't ruin such a beautiful day. "

Before Kai could bother her some more, she is already out of sight, and she slammed the bathroom door, both of them shocked at the sound it made. Amelia didn't even mean to slam the door, but there's no turning back time. Kai could understand why she did what she did, but they're still waiting for and wanting an answer.

Nobody said a word on their way to the hospital. Not even a small glance in another's direction. Everyone in the hospital could feel the tension emitting from the said power couple, but they knew better than to pry. Their colleagues get out of their way as well.

They only speak with each other if they really need to, but other than that, they will avoid each other to avoid such uncomfortable conversation. Even if they both know they're still gonna have that much needed discussion and conversation, they just didn't want to right now.

There are only two possible outcome when they have the conversation. Either they stay together, or they don't.

[melpomenelamusa]

I'm here to take care of you - Caretaking

~Original story~

Hurtcember DAY 11: Caretaking

CW: Cautivery, implied abuse.

"Hey, Moi, do you want to go to Don Ruiz's store after work? They say he sells some delicious sandwiches."

The young man was slow to look up from the cash register and glare at his coworker.

"Oh, eh, sorry. It's Friday, I have to go home early."

Moi left to serve a customer on the other side of the pharmacy. Nina let out a frustrated sigh.

"Does he dislike me so much that he doesn't have the decency to tell me that he doesn't like me to my face?" she lamented.

"Don't take it personally," Gus told her, leaning on the counter. "I'll tell you a secret, just because you are the new one and you've only been working for a few weeks: Moi leaves early every Friday. I heard that his mother is very sick at home, Alzheimer's or something, and he has to take care of her. His father doesn't have a job and Moi is the only breadwinner in the house.”

Nina's face changed from an expression of indignation to one of guilt. She looked back at the dark-haired young man who was currently explaining some contraindications to an old woman, and suddenly felt a deep sadness, but also one more reason why the shy and withdrawn Moi attracted her even more.

The shift ended. Moi gathered his things, changed his shirt, didn't say goodbye to anyone, and headed to the bus stop. It was 6:05. During the ride, he couldn't stop thinking about the need to get home as soon as possible. His heart felt like a time bomb. He walked down the sidewalk as if the devil himself was chasing him until he reached his neighborhood, lonely and empty. He arrived in front of the door of his house and felt like he was one step away from entering hell.

"Isn't that right?" he thought. He turned the key in the doorknob and walked forward.

The light in the living room was off, but the television on illuminated with a blue glow the figure of his father in the armchair, with a remote control in one hand and an open can of beer in the other. Moi walked on tiptoe, but felt a chill when a voice spoke behind him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Moi stopped and turned to look at his father's irritated eyes.

"Today is Friday." 

The man looked at him with some disgust, before nodding at a key resting on the corner, taking a swig of his beer and returning his attention to the television. Moi did his best not to let out a sigh. He didn't want his nervousness to be so obvious. He took the key and walked to the basement door. The darkness that sank with the stairs threatened to swallow him. He pressed the switch and a single yellowish light bulb lit up, hanging from the ceiling. He went down. 

In the middle of the basement was a chair. And in the chair was a man.

His white skin was even paler than would be considered healthy. He was naked except for a pair of black boxers. His wrists were tied behind the back of the chair, and his ankles were attached to the legs of the chair. More rope encircled his torso, colored in bruises of various colors and ages, and even a bit of dried blood. His drooping head and long, dirty white hair hid his face.

Moi felt his chest tighten.

"Liam?" he asked, coming closer. He had no answer.

He approached the bound man and, placing both hands on the sides of his face, lifted his head.

"Liam," Moi called.

Liam opened two blue, tired eyes. There was a cut on his forehead and a trail of dried blood painted on his temple. A thick piece of tape hid his lips. Moi peeled it off as carefully as possible. Liam spat out a wad of cloth and took a deep breath through his mouth.

"M... Moi... ses…”

Hearing his name in a weak, raspy voice, nothing more than a whisper, Moi couldn't help but hug the other young man. Watching him breathe and talk for another week... It was all he could ask for.

"I-I'm going to untie you now, you… keep cool."

Moi ​​got rid of the ropes as quickly as he could and then helped Liam up. The other was so weak that he could barely stand on his two legs, leaning almost all his weight on Moi. Moi put an arm around his waist to help him stand. He could perfectly feel the ribs that poked out sharply from the sides of his friend's bare chest.

They began to slowly climb the stairs until they reached the first floor. They shuffled down the hallway, completely ignoring the man sitting on the living room armchair watching television, and entered Moi's room. Once the door closed behind them, they both felt as if they could breathe freely again.

"Get some rest here," Moi said, helping Liam sit on the mattress of the only bed in the room and offering him some water from a bottle. "Drink some, slowly. I'll get things ready for the bath."

Like every Friday, Moi entered the small bathroom on the side of his room and left the bottle of shampoo, the antiseptic soap, the sponges and the first aid kit at hand. He filled the tub with warm water and then returned to his friend, who had remained still at the edge of the mattress, just hugging himself.

"The bath is ready," Moi announced. "Do you need... help?"

Liam stood up and began to limp over to the tub.

"I'm fine," he croaked, trying to draw a smile. "This week wasn't so bad..."

"Okay," Moi replied, still a little unsure. "I left your change of clothes on the toilet. I'll be right here, call me if you need anything."

Liam gave him one last look and smile and Moi felt his heart beat faster.

“Thank you.”

After about thirty minutes, Liam emerged from the bathroom wearing a loose t-shirt and soft sweatpants. His long, straight hair fell damply over his shoulders.

“Dry your hair with this,” Moi said, handing him the hairdryer. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

Moi left the room and closed the door before heading to the kitchen. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, and Liam must have been famished after a week without eating, so he quickly grabbed the fat-free blended bone and vegetable broth he’d made the night before and a bottle of electrolyte drink he’d brought from the pharmacy out of the refrigerator. He put the broth in the microwave, making sure it didn’t get too hot.

As he walked back down the hall to his room, he saw that his father was still in front of the TV, motionless. Even without saying anything, his presence was terrifying.

“I brought dinner,” Moi announced, helping Liam to take soft sips of the broth. Moi, for his part, had made himself a couple of egg sandwiches. Both young men ate in silence, sitting on the floor.

“Let me see that,” Moi said, brushing a few white strands from Liam's face to check the wound on his forehead. It didn't look too big, which was a relief because it meant he wouldn't need stitches.

“I'm fine,” Liam replied, calmly pushing Moi's hand away. “I told you, this week wasn't so bad…”

The other man couldn't help but feel anxious. He held Liam's hand, looking at the red marks around his wrists.

“At least let me put something on your rope burns.” 

Liam smiled again (Moi didn't understand how he could still smile so beautifully) and nodded.

After covering the wounds with ointment and bandages, they both lay down on the bed and watched videos on Moi's phone. The first time Liam asked him, Moi was hesitant; but after a while it became a kind of little ritual. To distract their minds, he said.

"Maybe this way I can see that the world out there is still the same, or how much it has changed," Liam had explained.

After that, Moi didn't have the heart to refuse. They watched short videos until 10pm came around. They brushed their teeth and settled in between the sheets, getting ready to sleep. Liam was the first to fall asleep, and of course, he must have been exhausted.

Moi hugged his friend's body, pressing him against his own and making sure not to hurt him. Liam was so thin... the good thing was that tomorrow after breakfast he could take vitamins and painkillers again. At least until Moi's father took him away again.

The young man suddenly felt tears wanting to well up in the corners of his eyes. He pulled Liam, who was snoring softly, against his chest and kissed his head, momentarily catching a whiff of the fruity scent of shampoo instead of the stench of sweat and blood.

The time they spent together was so short... But it was worth it, worth every second. Moi would make sure Liam was happy and safe for at least as long as they were together. Because on Sunday night, Moi would lose Liam again and the cycle of hell would repeat itself until next Friday.

That was his punishment; but for now, he would take care of Liam. He would take care of Liam like Liam always took care of him.

Next

A new story??? Yes!!! I've had this idea for a while now and this was the perfect opportunity to tell it. I plan for it to be a short series, without formal publishing times, because although I have a general plot line, it's not strictly planned, unlike Chimeras, so if one day you have any ideas for situations with my characters, I accept suggestions! Stay tuned for the other days of Hurtcember and you might discover a little more about Moi and Liam ;) Thank you very much for reading! ☀️

[randomquadballpun]

DAY 5 (attempt no 2)

"Bacteria please, Watson!"

Sherlock and Rosie were back in laboratory mode, goggles, gloves and coats donned, while John sat at his desk with a cup of tea and scrolled through the latest comments on his blog.

Over at the kitchen table, Sherlock held open one of the growth medium-filled Petri dishes and offered it to Rosie. With a tense expression that spoke of utmost concentration, Rosie dispensed a few droplets of bacteria solution in the middle of the plate with a pipette that looked like Sherlock had lifted it straight from one of the Barts laboratories. Knowing Sherlock that possibility was not even very unlikely.

Sherlock placed the dish down gently in front of himself on the table.

"Glass pipet please, Watson!"

He extended his empty hand and Rosie placed a disposable glass pipet in there, just as demanded.

With practised movements, Sherlock held the glass tube by one end and stuck the thinner side into the hottest part of the flame until it glowed red hot and began to droop under its own weight. Once it was bent at a 90° angle he repeated the process with the very tip of the thin glass before holding it away from the flame with a flourish until it stopped glowing.

"Next you can cool it down to bacteria-safe temperatures by pressing it gently against the growth medium, but be careful to avoid the actual bacteria until you are sure it is all cooled down!", he narrated as he lowered the bend pipet tip to the petri dish were it indeed cooled down with a quiet sizzle. "And then you can spread the E.coli with gentle, circular movements, just don't press down too hard or you are going to slice up the agar." He demonstrated the procedure with his customary level of grace and finished by closing up the plate, turning it upside down and handing it off to Rosie.

"Into the incubator please, Watson." She carried it off reverently as if she had been handed a great treasure and not just a small plastic plate containing some glorified gut bacteria.

While Sherlock started cleaning up the workspace, his eyes wandered over to John for the first time in a while. His light gaze immediately spotted the cup in his hands.

"Tea, John?"

John crossed his arms in mock protest. "What? I don't get watsoned around?"

Sherlock stared at him in genuine bafflement while peeling off his gloves and chucking them into the bin underneath the sink. "No, why? Watson is Watson, you are my John!" He gave Rosie an exaggerated wink overtop Johns head before returning to the topic at hand. "Tea please, John?"

At least he had the decency to make it sound more like a request than a demand. But John had come prepared. He picked up one of the two extra cups that he had brewed before and pressed it into the other mans waiting hand as soon as he was done cleaning up at the sink.

"Here you go, my Holmes!"

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Troubleshooting, part 4/?

-> I have started uploading the first finished chapter on ao3 as well (so attempt no 1), so if you prefer to read it over there, just click here!

-> The next snippet can be found here!

-> Start reading right at DAY 0 or read the previous part here.

[slasherfckr]

Did you think you could get away with writing something about our Tommy cheating and leave us hanging? WRONG! I demand humbly request an ending to somehow fix the hearts broken in the reading of the fanfic. Please, write about Thomas sparing reader and trying to make up for what he's done. Reader is obviously very hurt and won't trust Tommy for a long time, but appreciates that he at least has the decency to apologize and that he still chose them over that victim. Thank you ;;

PS: it's totally cool if you don't wanna! I'm just being a silly little idiot. If you feel like it should remain with an up-to-interpretation ending or just don't feel like it, then so be it! <3

You ask, you shall receive. Here's a follow up to the last Thomas fic.

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Cheating!Thomas Hewitt x GN!Reader (pt.2)

You awaited the, hopefully, quick death Tommy and his chainsaw would bring you but it never came

You instead heard a heart stopping, blood curdling scream over the roar of the saw

You opened your eyes and looked over to Thomas cutting the victim down. Blood spraying all over you in the process

The sound of the chainsaw soon died out and you were left just staring up at your....you weren't even sure what to call Tommy anymore

You were so mad at him for betraying your trust in the most brutal way. But deep down, you still loved him. You just didn't think you could ever forgive him for what he's done

Thomas put down his saw and slowly turned to you, his eyes refusing to meet yours. He got down onto his knees and reached out for your hands

He held your hands in his for a minute before he raised his head up and looked at you

There was so much pain and sorrow in his eyes. Your heart broke at the sight. You wanted to hold him. To comfort him. But then you remembered why this was all happening

"Listen....Thomas....You cheated on me. You hurt me really bad. I....I just want to know. Why? Why did you do what you did?"

Thomas was about to sign you an answer but then Hoyt opened his mouth

"You two can fucking talk about that later. Right now, you need to go get a damn shower and Thomas needs to clean up his mess. Now get to it.'

You rolled your eyes at Hoyt but did as you were told anyways. You didn't have the energy to argue with the old fuck. Besides, maybe a nice cool shower would help straighten your mind out. So many thoughts were running around in your head, you couldn't think straight at the moment

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

You were up in the room finishing drying your hair with a towel when there was a knock on the door before it opened

Thomas came in and sat on the bed. Your heart was dreading what your next conversation would entail

You took a deep breath and grabbed his hand

"Thomas I want you to be completely honest with me. Did you have sex with that person because you don't love me anymore? Or because I can't give you everything you want in a relationship?"

Thomas' eyes went wide and he shook his head. You felt a little relieved that it wasn't your fault what has happened

"So....what happened?"

Thomas signed to you what happened

Apparently, they tried seducing him to try and escape. He told them he already had someone, they somehow convinced him that you would enjoy seeing him being so intimate with another person, that that was a common kink people had; to watch their SO bang another person. He immediately knew he fucked up when he saw your crying face down in the basement

You shook your head at Thomas. You felt bad he had been tricked so easily by a victim but on the other hand, he could have easily gotten you to double check

"They weren't wrong. That is a kink people have but it's not one of mine. This is why it's important to ask if you're unsure about something.... I'm sorry Thomas, I just can't forgive you...."

Before Thomas could react, you continued

"But that doesn't mean I don't love you still. I'm willing to give you another chance but you have to earn my trust again, which might take a very long time.....are you willing to work through this with me?"

You barely got the last word out before you were crushed by a bone crushing hug by Thomas. He quickly pulled away, nodding his head as he stroked one of your cheeks

You got up and gathered what little things you had in his room

"Well I'll be in the guest bedroom if you ever need me, Tommy."

You gave him a small smile before leaving the room

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Ahhh sorry if it wasn't that good! Literally could not think of any other way on how/why Thomas would cheat honestly. Hence why the first fic was left so ambiguous. Hope this eased some heartbreaks the first one caused!

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 3

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

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There's a lot to unpack in the Eden interview episode. It goes smoothly at first, with Twilight and Yor being able to provide rehearsed answers to the questions. But things start to fall apart when Yor is questioned about her cooking skills, a question she obviously wasn't prepared for. And here we get another instance of Twilight choosing human decency over bettering the mission by sticking up for Yor when Swan starts criticizing her. He could have easily kowtowed by saying something that would make them look better, like agreeing with Swan's remarks and saying that Yor is taking cooking lessons or something. Doing that would have increased their chances of passing the interview, which was the most important thing for the mission at the time. But instead, he drops the fake smile and looks visibly annoyed at Swan while emphasizing Yor's good qualities.

He then catches himself at his sudden emotional instability, internally asking himself why he got so upset when she's not even his real wife. But of course, this was not the last time during the interview where he'd lose his cool.

Things get back on track for a bit when they move on to questioning Anya, and she muddles through with her humorous responses. But when asked what she thinks of her parents, Anya responds with the most competent and articulate answer she'd given yet – saying that she'd score them at 100 percent and wants to be with them forever. Clearly this was not an answer they had rehearsed, as Twilight and Yor look surprised at her response. The three of them had probably not been together very long by that point, and yet Anya already thinks so highly of them. Unlike her (fake) parents who have ulterior motives behind their roles in the family, all Anya wants is to live happily with a family she loves. While she has to hide the fact that she can read minds, she has no reason to hide anything else, like the fact that she loves her parents. She wouldn't want to be with parents she didn't like, so there'd be no reason for her to lie at the interview if she didn't really love them that much…an early sign of what naturally good parents Twilight and Yor are.

When Swan decides to cross the line by asking Anya whether she loves her biological mother or her new mother more, Twilight doesn't hesitate to show disapproval and request another question. Even though he just had to correct himself when he lost his composure during Yor's questioning, once again his compassionate side pushes his "for the mission" reasoning aside.

When Anya starts crying, Yor immediately jumps in to comfort her. Unlike Twilight, she isn't hindered by having to go through all the internal reasoning with herself about whether this would harm her facade. Nor does she seem to care that Anya might actually prefer her real mother, or even give any thought that her actions might ruin the interview, and ultimately her chance at staying Loid's wife – all she cared about at that moment was that this child she was becoming fond of was hurting and she had to do something. This is also the first time we see Yor's scary "mama bear" mode, a rare side of her usually sweet and polite personality…a side that only comes out when someone is threatening Anya or other people she loves.

On the other hand, after slipping up twice, Twilight manages to keep calm for a while, going over and over in his mind how this is all for the mission, and Swan's insults don't matter since they're a fake family. But just as Yor is ready to go full assassin on Swan, Twilight snaps first and launches a punch right at Swan's face, internally yelling at himself to hold back. In the end, he diverts his punch to the table, as well as a deus ex machina mosquito, that allows him to provide an excuse for his unexpected behavior (though I'm still curious what Yor would have done to Swan had Twilight not acted first. Most likely the table would not be the only thing broken).

At this point, Twilight must have known that their chances of passing the interview were shot. His excuse about the mosquito was flimsy, and Swan was obviously angry at them as they started to leave the room. And yet, instead of making an attempt to salvage any chance they might have left of leaving a good impression, Twilight decides to bluntly tell the Eden interviewers exactly what he thought – that they wouldn't want to attend a school that belittles the feelings of children.

I don't think I even need to mention that this is a prime example of how, as much as Twilight insists that everything he does is "for the mission," we as the audience know that this is not the case. Even though, as I mentioned before, sometimes it's ambiguous as to whether he's speaking his true feelings or not, this is one of the times where it's obvious that he is. Even this early in the series, it's clear that his philosophy isn't "for the mission" but more like "for the mission, as long as my morals aren't too compromised." He was willing to toss aside all the work he had done at that point – adopting Anya, marrying Yor, practicing for the interview, keeping up a perfect happy-family facade – because he values his morals more than his mission, even if he himself won't realize it.

When the Forgers dejectedly return home, Twilight shows what a non-judgmental guy he is (something I'll discuss more later) by scolding himself for letting his emotions get the better of him instead of putting any blame on Anya (despite the fact that earlier he said he was nervous because he had to depend on others for the success of the interview). And, when Anya apologizes, he comforts her rather than show any trace of resentment.

Meanwhile, Yor has a bit of a "Twilight moment" where she starts to realize that if they don't pass the interview, the life that they had begun to build would be in jeopardy...but quickly tells herself that she doesn't actually care, only that it could interfere with her work. But as expected, it won't be long before she'll be unable to continue divorcing her own well being from that of Loid and Anya.

On that note, when the Forgers find out that Anya could still get accepted to Eden if another student drops out, Yor fantasizes about killing the father of one of the students so he'd have to relinquish the spot. She of course quickly rejects the idea of killing innocent people, but it's interesting that, as the series goes on, she stops thinking only of her cover up and assassinating as a means to solve her problems. As I mentioned before about her losing her fascination with weapons, as she embraces her mother/wife role, her connection to her Thorn Princess identity slowly starts to fade.

Continue to Part 4 ->

<- Return to Part 2