#not usually a computer fucker

[tooweirdfortheworld]

thats hot

why did no one tell me quantum computers looked like that

[transingthoseformers]

What medium/program do you use the most in your art?

Lately? It's been a while since I've sketched on paper, but lately I've been using this shitty little art app called Artflow

There are features you have to pay to unlock but I never pay for

This is immensely funnier when you know my brother pays for one of the Good Adobe art apps on the computer but I never use them because I've gotten so used to drawing with my finger on my phone

[stargirlygirl]

Rut Suppressants pt.1

Alpha!Shoto x Omega!Fem!Reader

Summary: You find out that Shoto's been taking rut suppressants ever since you've been together. You take them off him and get to see a new side of your husband.

Word count: 5.2k

A/n: This is PART 1 of 2. Part 2 is hyperlinked. The second part ties up all the little plot points touched on here.

🚨Warnings: Smut, 18+, NSFW, p in v, masturbation, oral sex

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You were typing away at your computer, responding to some dry work emails about tomorrow’s presentation. You had been working in a small team to design a new marketing strategy for your company’s latest hero gadgets. Of course, you had been pulling the weight of the team, you little hard worker. Or maybe your HR team didn’t hire the right candidates, you decide. It was easy enough though. The hard part was just getting your colleagues to look like they knew what they were doing by 10am tomorrow.

After responding to another email of “What does this mean?”, you heard the front door click open, grocery bags scraping against it. Ah, your mate is home. Finally, you smile. You set your desktop to sleep before leaving the study. As you walk down the hallway, half-white half-red hair comes into view. He’s got his back to you. Black shirt clinging to his sweaty muscles. Must of been to the gym too, you thought. You rest your shoulder against the fridge, arms crossed underneath your chest, taking in the sight of you husband. He’s going through the bags, rummaging through them restlessly, clearly on the hunt for something.

“Need some help?” You smirk.

He turns around, blue-grey eyes wide. His expression visibly eases, slightly opened mouth forming a closed smile. “No, I’m fine. How was work?” He returns to his scavenger hunt in the bag right at his feet.

“Fine. I’ve got it under control for tomorrow’s meeting.” You push off of the fridge and come up behind him, hand on the edge of the island bench. You look over his shoulder, curious about what he could possibly be looking for. Shoto always gave you a kiss whenever he came home, regardless of what had happened during patrol or of what you were doing. For him to neglect you like this was rather odd.

“You didn’t do all the work again, did you?” His voice had an edge to it… Interesting.

“You know how it is—”

“Well, it shouldn’t be,” he almost growled, “You should all be doing it, not just you.” He cussed under his breath.

Okay, this was getting weird. Agitated over you working hard? I mean yea but, he usually reins it it, accepts that this job is just that for you, a job. One that you’ve talked to him about leaving. Swearing? Not Shoto. Only when y’all are… you know.

“Shoto, babe, what’s up?” Standing directly behind him, you run your hand through his locks. He hums.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, “you whine.

You watch as he starts going through the fourth bag, pulling out a small box with the label “Rut suppressants. Take as needed. Maximum dosage: five per day."

This little fucker. You snatch it out of his hands immediately, sprinting from the scene into the back of your apartment.

“[Y/n]! [Y/n] stop!” You can hear him coming after you, the sound of his feet hitting the floorboards. “Give that to me now!”

You’re running frantically, heart pounding in your chest, hands getting sweaty around the evil cardboard box. You dash into your shared bedroom, slamming the door shut. Fuck! Where should I hide it? You look around, [e/c] eyes settling on the dresser. You race over to it, emptying the contents of the box into the first draw, beneath your bras and panties.

“[Y/n]!”

Shit, he’s close to the door. You slam the drawer shut and run-stumble into the ensuite. Leaning against the door, you lock it. Okay okay, think! Think! The door knob rattles.

“Y/n! Open this door right now or I swear—” The silver handle is shaking now.

The toilet! You open the lid and crush the box in your hands; it makes those crinkling noises before you toss it into the trash bin and flush the toilet. At that moment, the door bursts open.

Shoto’s chest is heaving. His eyes are unfocused, frenzied. He’s panting… with anger you decide as there’s no way that lil sprint could of worked up the number 3 pro hero that much. He stalks towards you, grabbing your wrists and leaning down to meet your eyes.

“What did you do with it?” His tone shocks you. His voice is so low now… and hoarse. It throws you off. “With-with what?” You breath out. You’re pretty puffed. “Don’t play dumb. You didn’t actually flush ‘em down the toilet, did you?”

His face is now inches from yours. You remain defiant, eyes staring back into his. The heat radiating from his left tickles your skin. “Um… well yea, yea I did. They’re um, yea, they’re down the toilet.” He laughs. More like barks. His breath hits your face. All you can smell is his sweat interlaced with his fresh scent.

“You’re so bad at lying, you know that?” He smirks, straightening back up. His muscles pull taut as he runs pale fingers through that snowy, silky hair. You watch as he looks around the bathroom. “Where’d you really put ‘em?” He looks back down at you, scrutinising you beneath his gaze. Your ragged breaths now hitch. “I don’t—”

“Don’t deny it!” He shouts. You shrink back instinctively.

You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s always so controlled. Even when you’re in heat, he’s always got it together. Always able to draw back or change the pace when you need him to. That’s why you took the pills off him in the first place. You’ve been getting suspicious for months now since the two of you got married that he’s been on rut suppressants. It just didn’t add up. After your first heat together, you had actually asked him about his ruts so you knew when you had to return the favour.

“I don’t really rut, babe.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, heterochromatic eyes averting from yours.

You laughed in response. “You don’t rut?” Your eyebrows raised. “Should I be concerned or…”

“No,” he said shyly, “it’s not like that.”

You waited for him to continue, watching as his eyes fluttered from object to object.

“I don’t get very intense ruts.”

Your brow was still quirked. “You don’t get ‘very intense ruts’? Like, you don’t get super aggressive and horny when you rut.”

His muscles relaxed upon hearing that. He looked back at you now. “Yea, it’s a minor annoyance. Nothing to worry about.”

You relaxed too, seeing that he was more comfortable now. “Trust me.” He took your hands in his larger ones. The temperature difference of both something you weren’t used to yet. “You don’t ever have to worry about control with me.” He gave you a sweet reassuring smile.

“Are you sure? I mean—”

“Trust me.” He squeezed your hands and leaned over, planting a small kiss on your lips. You grinned as he pulled back, trusting his word, however odd it seemed.

Had he lied to you? When you had announced to your friends that you and Shoto were (finally) getting married, they had warned you about that post-wedding baby fever. The endless marathon sex you two would be having once your cycles synced up. You had been waiting your entire relationship for that to happen and it hadn’t. So, once you two tied the knot wink, you had been hoping that the talk of ‘pups’ would come up, but it just hadn’t. That’s when you had begun to think something was off. Even if he didn’t have “intense ruts”, he would still be feeling the urge to breed you, wouldn’t he? Or maybe he just didn’t—

“Where did you put my suppressants?” He stared you down, thin brows furrowed. “Babe…” You can see that he’s getting really agitated. His hands are trembling at his sides. Maybe you should try something else. Something else that’s gonna get you the result you want.

“Make me.”

At this, he frowns even more. “Make you what?”

“Make me tell you.” You take a step forward, feigning confidence, coming close to him again and tilting your head to the side, challenging him.

He scoffs. Those beautiful eyes, like solar eclipses, flickering away from you for a moment. “Make you…” He says quietly. He stares at you even more intensely now as he’s thinks it over.

It’s time to get cocky. “Yea, make me.” You stretch up towards him, arms wrapping around his neck. “I want you,” you move to whisper in his ear, your lips brushing his earlobe. “My sexy Alpha,” you run both of your hands through his hair now. He groans right back into your neck, large hands palming your lower back. “To make me submit to you.”

In an instant, your over his shoulder, his palm smacking your right cheek. He’s carrying you out of the ensuite. You’ve done it now hehe.

As he crosses the threshold, you notice the door knob was coated in ice, hanging there, limp. Looks like you’ve gotta add fixing that to your to-do list tomorrow. He throws you like a stuffed toy onto your plush bed. His shirt’s already coming off, rippling contours all for your pleasure. Yea, make that ‘to-do next week’. Large hands already besides your head. Lean arms, meaty thighs, delicious toned frame caging you in. You’re forced to stare into those mismatched eyes. Not like you’d want to do anything else anyways.

Your breaths intermingle, just like your scents. He just stares at you, pupils dilated. Afternoon light from the adjacent windows making your figures glow. You love the way it streaks through his hair, and he loves the way it catches on your full lips. He thumbs your lower lip, pulling it down to reveal your teeth. You lower your chin, taking his thumb into your mouth. You circle your tongue over top of thumb before tasting the pad of it. It’s cold, like a popsicle you suck on in summer. You can think of another ‘popsicle’ you’d rather be sucking on right—

“I… I-I don’t…” His brows are knitted together once more. Pupils wavering between dilated and contracted, showing off those blue and grey hues you love so much. You stop what you’re doing with your tongue, opting to place both of your hands on his cheeks. His thumb leaves your mouth but rests on your chin.

“I don’t know if… if this s-safe.” You can’t stop yourself from giggling a little. What a cutie. “Pookie, of course this is safe. I was made for you. You know that, right?” You smirk. You’re a feelin’ like a cocky little shit today btw if you didn’t get that. This man’s shyness inflating your big dick ego.

“Of course I do but…” He averts his gaze, looking at your ear instead. “But?” You continue. However, he doesn’t respond. He just moves his hand from your chin and tucks a strand of [h/c] behind your ear which has suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room.

“You don’t wanna hurt me? You do wanna hurt me but don’t wanna admit it?” You tease. “No! No, of course I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes shift back to yours. “Shoto.” You squeeze his cheeks gently. “I’m your omega. If you hurt me then you can just make it better.” You bring his face closer to yours. “You can make it better, can’t you?” You whisper.

He gulps, his adam’s apply bobbing up and down with the motion. “Y-yea,” he replies, voice low, “I can.” That last part coming out with more confidence. “Good, then don’t make me dom you, Alpha. That’s kinda embarrassing for you.” You giggle whilst leaning up to him and finally, kiss him.

You both moan into it, feeling the relief washing through you two. But quickly, it’s not enough. It’s far from enough. He growls into your lips, changing his tilt. You follow his lead. You like that. His tongue grazing your bottom lip and your lips parting immediately for him. The tangle that ensues is soul-gripping, bone-shaking, mind-blanking, breath-taking… Your fingers are gripping his locks. His fingers are gripping the hem of your thin white tank top. Saliva, don’t know don’t care whose, if dripping from the corners of your mouth. His exhale is your inhale and vice versa. He catches your lower lip between his teeth. This sharp canines sending tingles throughout your entire being. There’s nothing that gets you slicked up like a lip bite from your Alpha.

He pulls away, you two panting. Not that the reprieve is sufficient or long-lived. Soon his lips are sucking and nipping your earlobe and that sensitive spot beneath your ear. You whimper out his name. “Shoto”, “Alpha”, “Daddy”, maybe “Babe” or “Honey”… yea, those, they’ll be the only words you know for the next week. He nips at your mating mark, the beautiful white scar just above your left collarbone. He continues biting it, almost re-piercing the scar. You can’t help the moan-mumbles that tumble out of your mouth. Already, your wetness is soaking your blue lace panties and beginning to slide down your inner thighs. “Fuck,” Shoto breathes out into your other ear. You shudder at the word, one hand sliding down to his shoulder.

He continues at it, licking and sucking and kissing and biting at your neck. Soon, his fingers are tearing through your top. You mewl at the sensation of him ripping the torn, flimsy fabric off your body. His hands reach for your bare breasts, cupping them completely. Those long fingers begin pinching at the sensitive flesh. Your body responds instinctively, moaning, tiny hands (cause you’re small af obvs) grasping his wrists, breaths catching in your chest and throat. He fingers your nipples before bringing his mouth down to you, lips ghosting the hard peaks between his fingertips. He takes one into his mouth, eliciting a whimper. His warm tongue circling your nipple as you did to his thumb, but just so much better.

You’ve barely gotten started and yet, you know never get enough of this. No matter how many times he’s done and will do this to you, and so much more, you’ll never be forever satiated. You just can’t be.

He moves to the other, keeping your now wet left breast covered by his cool palm. Fuck, you love that. More moans spill from your mouth as he continues his ministrations. That slick is at your knees, probably. You can’t really tell cause it just feels like a wet, sticky mess down there at this point.

“Shoto,” you whine. He groans in response. “Hurryyyyy up,” you drag out that ‘y’ as you mewl. You shudder as he chuckles against your tender skin. Tender from his bites and sucking, of course. “You want me to go faster?” He pulls away from your breast, face coming back close to yours. You whine and nod your affirmation.

“But if I go faster,” he strokes your cheek softly with the back of his index finger, “you’ll miss out on all the fun.” His finger trails down to your chin, gripping it tightly but playfully with his other fingers. Damn, you’re getting wetter by the second. He’s doesn’t usually tease you during your intimacy.

He just smirks at you before moving back to his painstakingly slow kisses and sucks on your breast. He only moves down to your ribs once he’s satisfied and you’ve probably soaked the bed sheets with how much he’s turning you on. It’s driving you insane. Shoto’s hands wrap around your ribs, feeling their rise and fall, and their ridges. “Beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing each rung. He keeps those eyes on you. All cocky. He knows what he’s doing to you and he likes how pathetic it makes you for him. And you can’t help but like it too.

After thoroughly kissing and touching every part of your torso, your arms, your everything really, he’s finally fingering your low waistband. You sigh relief and begin wriggling, trying to get those pants off as fast as possible, but your Alpha is still having none of it.

“Be patient,” he growls as he squeezes your inner thigh, your flesh perking up between his fingers. “But Alpha—”

“I said,” he stares you down, this dark look in his eyes, “be patient.” You whine, “Yes Alpha.”

Hearing your compliance, he loosens his grip on your thigh and begins kissing your hip bones and skin just above the band. Fuck, he’s really killing you this time. I thought alphas were all, “Let’s bang. Now. Hard.” when they’re rutting but, I guess not. Maybe, Shoto didn’t completely lie to you by hinting at that his ruts were different to other alphas. Or maybe, he just wants to tease you for once.

You’re brought back to reality when you gasp reflexively to him biting into your inner thigh through your wet pants. Wet as in soaked and clinging to your hot skin.

“You’re not focusing on me.” Shoto’s voice is low, raspy. Fuck, you love it when he talks like that. Especially just after he’s woken up and you two have some fun together before getting up—

“And you’re not even focusing on me right now.” He bites even harder into your thigh, breaking through the fabric and pulling little red dots to the surface of your now red, marked flesh. “I,” you breath out, so it sounds like ‘hi’ and not ‘I’, “I thought you wanted me to be patient.”

“I want you to do both. Can you manage that? Or is that too much for my little girl?” He’s got a shit-eating grin across face. Since when was your husband such a tease, and such a good fucking one at that? It’s the years of pills, you decide.

“N-no, I can’t manage. Help me m-manage.” You imagine that you must look like some blubbering, whimpering mess right now, and you’re not even naked yet. And he’s not even naked yet. “Okay,” his grin widens.

Licking those glorious lips, those lips that you want on yours and not the ones on your face if you know what I mean wink wink, he pulls away from your thighs. He gets up from the bed, taking off his grey sweatpants and briefs. And fuck, you’re not ready for what meets you. For real. Swollen, hard, precum dripping down the shaft.

He smirks at you as he grabs his cock with his hand, moaning on impact. His other hand comes up to his face, finger pointing to the side of his mouth. At this point, your sitting up, thighs to calves, legs spread wide, dragging your [e/c] up and down his body.

“You’re drooling.”

I would say that you blushed at hearing this, but you’re already red as fuck in the face with how hot he’s been making you. You’re embarrassed and laugh it off, hand coming to wipe that spit from the side of your mouth. Yea, that was definitely yours and not his from earlier. That had already dried. “W-well, how can I not when,” you take a deep breath in and look back up at him, “when my husband looks this good.”

“Have I got your attention now?” That rasp. That will be the end of you. Or the end of these bed sheets, whichever comes first. You nod feverishly. “Good girl.”

Ah fuck. He’s praising you. Fuck. That’s it. If that dick isn’t in you within the next three minutes, who knows what will happen next. You start shuffling over toward him when he stops you.

“No. You stay there. I want you to watch.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles, amused by your reaction as you realise what’s going on. Is this how this twisted fucker wants you to help you be patient? By not letting you touch him? And by not touching you?

“I can’t. No. Babe. No please.” You’re shaking your head vigorously, already raising from the bed when his hands find your shoulders and push you back to sit down on the edge. “Watch.” His voice is commanding, absolute.

You’re forced to obey your alpha and sit there helplessly as he pumps his veiny cock with those veiny hands. The precum now all over his dick with even more leaking from the tip. His dick that should be in you right now. His eyes are trained on you, observing every stuttered breath you take in, every time you bite the side of your lip, how focused you are on how he’s pleasuring himself. That feels even better than his hands ever could. Fucking hell.

“Can I—” You start.

“No. Just watch.”

“Not you but my—”

“No. Watch.” His tone is stern. His voice strained.

Fuck. If your hands were bound then this would be so much easier, but no, you’re forced to hold back from touching yourself by your alpha’s command and your own self-discipline. You doubt that you’re even allowed to rock your hips right now.

You watch as his movements get faster and now he’s panting. His eyes half-lidded and tongue darting out across his lower lip every so often. You can see the sweat beading on his chest. You start whining, wanting to be the one touching him like that. What you wouldn’t give to just… just have him right now.

“Please,” you begin. Which becomes a slew of please daddy, please, please let me touch you, please, I’m sorry that I took your suppressants, I’m sorry okay, I’m sorry Alpha, I’m sorry that I wasn’t being patient or f-focusing on you, please Alpha, please let me touch you, please, please, please, please… You don’t stop. You can’t stop. All you can do is sit there, slick drenching the sheets below you even though you’re lower half is still clothed, and plead for your alpha to fuck you.

His pale hips jerk forward and you can tell he’s really close. Would he even let you swallow it? But he stops. He stops and comes over to you, collapsing onto you, arms around your shoulders and neck. “Shoto,” you squeak, but it’s muffled by his weight falling onto you. He huffs into your ear and you just rub his back.

“Tired already,” you jest, but he’s not in the mood to play you anymore. “Enough. I can’t cuddle my wife?” He mumbles grumpily into your shoulder before taking the flesh between his teeth. You hum, “You can always cuddle your wife, but I’d like it more if you fucked me.” He chuckles low, right below your ear. You feel it vibrating through his throat. “Yea, I bet you would.”

He holds you a little longer before pulling back, peeling his sweaty body off yours.

“Alright, I’ll give you your reward,” he smiles lazily, even showing off one side of this pearly whites. You squeal with delight. “Finally!” “Oi, settle,” he says as positions you so that he’s between your legs, spread wide, slowly pulling both pants and panties off you. Oi? “So, you’ve been on patrol with Dynamight—”

“Don’t mention him,” Shoto growls. He’s been doin’ a lotta that today and you like it. A lot. “Or anyone else right now. It’s just you and me.” You nod submissively. You really should stop riling him up sometimes. But you can’t help it. You’re a cheeky little shit after all.

The relief that engulfs you once those dreadful clothes are off brings out a sigh of pleasure from you. He doesn’t make you wait any longer. He’s already at the source of your heat, lapping up your slick like it’s the elixir of life. To him, it is. You whimper and mewl as his tongue makes its’ way between your folds. It feels so warm and wet, perfect against your swollen lips. You relish in the feeling on what he’s doing to you. Shoto eats you out like he’s been starved. Greedily, hungrily, in a frenzy. Without a break for air, he keeps going. That tongue, those long digits curling inside of you, his lips, all making you shake and mew. The whimpers and words leaving your mouth are unholy and impure, some real nasty shit. Only he can get you like this. Only he can have you saying shit like, “Fuck me however you want, daddy.” Or, “Knot in me, alpha! Breed your little omega!”

Once he’s had his fill, he moves away from your core, grabbing your hips and flipping you over, onto your stomach. His fingers are back at your folds, playing with your clit and teasing your entrance, drawing more filthy moans from you. You feel him move on top of you, straddling you. He withdraws his fingers, replacing them with what you’ve been craving for this entire time. You moan loudly as he fills you up, completely, inch-by-inch. He groans as you draw him in, tight walls clenching around his girth. He stays still for a few moments, allowing you to get comfortable, before he sets a brutal pace. You hands are by your shoulders, gripping the sheets as he fucks you. You’re body is shaking, contorting to his every rough thrust in and out. It’s got your mind absolutely filled with how your mate can do this to you. You can’t even form a sentence. You mewl, over and over, to the sound of your skin slapping harshly together. Your mingled groans and moans all that dirty shit dripping from your mouths fill the room. It’s humid. Sweat coating your bodies. Your hair is stuck to your forehead. Your favourite part — besides from how tight he’s gripping your hips, likely (and hopefully) leaving bruises on your soft skin — is how deep he gets. His tip reaches that perfect spot, making you curl your toes and bend your knees, before he draws back out, and he does it again and again.

“Sh huff sho huff shot huff to,” you moan. He grunts out in response. “Sho huff sho huff I huff.” Fuck, you can’t even get the sentence out. That’s how brain fucked, how body fucked, this man’s got you. “What?” He growls. He’s breathing hard, you can hear it, it makes you drip even more and he can feel it. “Use your words, baby. Moan What is it?”

The filthy sounds of him pounding you fills your ears. The squelching of your juices around his length. You can’t even remember what you were trying to say. Oh! That’s right! “I-I whimper Shoto whimper Sho fuck moan I’m moan I-I’m gonna,” your voice is quiet and breathy, but he still hears you clearly.

He can feel your thighs beginning to shake, the way your pussy tightens and then releases, and he knows what you mean. “I know,” he grunts in response. You continue to moan, feeling your climax coming in hard n’ fast. You gotta know if— “Just hold on for me, alright. Just huff just hold on.” You whimper in response. Not cum yet? You don’t know if you can do that. “I’ll try—”

“You will wait for me.”

Your moans and mewls get louder as you get closer, as does his growls and grunts. Even if you can’t wait for him , it doesn’t really matter, you still benefit, whether he punishes you or not. Not that he’s ever punished you, but this rut seems to be bringing out a side of him you’ve never seen before. And you’re living for it.

He picks up the pace. You never even realised he had this kinda stamina. But, you should of known. He is THE pro hero ‘Shoto’. It feels impossibly more pleasurable. It’s like he’s surrounding you. Every thrust is godsent. You couldn’t escape the pleasure of this moment, even if you tried. Your orgasm is building and building, threatening to drown you any second now.

“Shoto!” You cry out. You’ve got tears in your eyes. Your shaking, trembling, convulsing as you climax. You squeeze around him hard, sending him over the edge with you. You’re sobbing and screaming at this point, as you feel his knot swell and plunge into you. Thick, white, hot ropes spilling into you. Filling you completely with his seed. Fuck. You ride out the high together, him rocking into you and you rocking as much as you can manage back into him. Breathing out, he leans down, pulling you back and laying you two on your sides. You groan at the movement, still experiencing those last minute tremors from your orgasm. His legs intertwine with yours, arms wrapping around you. He strokes your head, drawing you close into him as you both calm down. You sniffle and he takes this opportunity wipe the tears from your tears.

You giggle, “Thanks, honey.” The words dampened by your sudden emotional outburst. “Anything for you, love.” He kisses the side of your forehead and moves to grab the blankets and pull them over you two, up to your chin. You snuggle back into him, hands grasping his forearms, a mindless smile spreading across your face. “You’re not done with me yet, are you?”

He remains silent for a few seconds, before groaning into your hair. It still smells like fresh cut strawberries in the midst of all the scents filling the room. “Only if you tell me where you hid my suppressants.”

“Than I’m never telling you!” You squeal. There ain’t no way you’re gonna give up this side of your alpha just yet. “Hey, that’s not what you should be saying.” His voice is low, bordering on a growl. “Sorry for not following your script.” And now you’re the one wearing a shit-eating grin.

“You know,” he shifts, now leaning over you and narrowing his doe eyes at you, “if you insist on acting up, then maybe I will just have to fuck you through this rut of mine.” “I hope you do,” you smirk even wider. “’Course you do,” he grumbles, laying back down again, nose buried in your hair.

You two lay in silence until his knot goes down, and he can finally pull out. He turn you back onto your stomach and pulls the blankets back, drawing out slowly, making you moan. His cum gushes out, further drawing moans from you. You can feel it dripping down your the back of your thigh. Shoto watches, enjoying the sight. Though, before he’s realise it, he’s got his fingers inside of you, finger-fucking that cum back into you. You can’t help but start whimpering and moaning even louder as you feel him fingering you.

“Shoto…”

He draws his fingers back out, letting the cum drip out again. He’s tempted to slide them back into you so that no more escapes, but he refrains from doing so, knowing that you two need to talk a bit more about kids than just “Do you want kids? Yea, I want kids. Do you? Yea, sounds good.”

He clears his throat, “I hope you’re ready, baby.” He wraps his hand around your waist and turns you over, onto your back. Your eyes find each other. The sun’s setting, illuminating how wet and dewy and bruised your soft flesh is. You breathe out, smiling happily.

“I’m ready.”

[clockwayswrites]

Masked in Amity

CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)

Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.

“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?

“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”

“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”

“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”

“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.

“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”

“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”

Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.

“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”

“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”

“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”

“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”

Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”

Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.

This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”

The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”

“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…

Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”

Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”

“So you want to leave me in the past?”

“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”

“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.

Danny scrambled off also.

“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”

Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”

“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”

“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”

“And then left.”

“So I could help other people!”

“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”

Danny closed his mouth with a clack.

Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”

“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”

“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.

“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”

“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.

Maybe he really was just a caged beast.

“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.

As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.

--

AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.

[evilminji]

You know how in Naruto, Sealing is a Finicky Art?

It's like computer coding, calligraphy, and symbolism had a super-powered/reality bending baby. You gotta think in VERY ADHD twirls and swirls too be any good at it. Which is why the Uzumaki rocked it so hard. But I digress.

Is Complexe AF.

Bends Reality and is EASY to fuck up.

Wanna bet? The BEST way to learn/use it? Is to copy already functioning examples? But Oh! How do you KNOW they are functioning? Safe? Well OBVIOUSLY, your Skilled At Seals teacher looks at it first! THEN gives it too you!

Using random seals you find in the dirt is how you get splattered across three different countryside in peices, after all. Possibly take out a nearly Town or two while your at it. No One Is THAT Dumb... RIGHT?

Enter Stage Right o/~☆ Humanity, Everybody! *polite, if strained, golf clapping*

They ABSOLUTELY Are!

Especially Ninja!

Ninja who, after fuckin MURDERING A WHOLE ASS VILLAGE OF SEALING MASTERS, decided to pick through the rubble! Because THAT is gonna work out GREAT! After all... it's not like you just KILLED the fuckers who could tell you what IS and IS NOT functional!

Was that once the "hazardous advanced class' sealing failures" bin? Or was it the "super awesome candy and rainbows" stash!? You don't know. NO ONE DOES NOW. You fuckin KILLED THE PEOPLE WHO DID.

They had their own REGIONAL Sealing Script.

You know, the one they taught to THEIR STUDENTS. Not outsiders. The students you KILLED, you absolute fuck nuggets. But hey! The threat of the Super Scary Sealing Masters is no more! Good job. You've successfully burned down the library. It can't hurt you ever again.

But NOW? You have piles upon piles of GIBBERISH.

You can only VAGUELY tell the novice seals from the master's. And even then? Do you have any idea what most of them DO? Nope. And after a certain point in training? The shaky, uncertain hand writing becomes smooth enough, that it all blends together in "Seals".

Now... what is the SMART thing to do?

Curse your hubris and the atrocities your fear allowed you to commit, obviously. But BEYOND that, Don't Touch Them. But we're Ninja. So WE are all suicidal idiots. The less smart but still Reasonably Precautionary thing to do? Study the amateur Seals. Learn Sealing from other masters.

Crack the Regional Script and slowly, painstakingly, work through each seal as we sort out what is and isn't safe. What can be salvaged. What can be used and how.

A process that will likely take years if not decades.

But of course, that's not GOOD ENOUGH for certain grabby handed, power hungry, short sighted, fuck weasels! No, no. It much EASIER to just throw human life into the blender until profit pops out! Completely IGNORING, of course, that SOME of these?

Could very well be the "Too Dangerous To Ever Use/Will Destroy Us All/Take Them All With Us" type of Seals that Kage usually LOCK UP. The kind you CAN'T destroy once you've made them, because the fall out would be WORSE. And?

Even if you are a murderous, middle management, go nowhere in your life, BASTARD of a ninja? Sometimes you can look down at the massive, intricately detailed, killer off nation's before you. Something that was WRAPPED in locks upon locks upon chains upon seals. And KNOW in your selfish, survival at all costs little heart... You DO NOT want anyone to fuck with this.

You CAN NOT let anyone fuck with this.

NO ONE can be allowed to touch it.

Not for ANYTHING.

You may fear S Class Kage and Missing Nin and what all else they may do to you. But THIS? Your eyes can't even properly FOCUS on it. It's like a tunnel that's lined with poetry, stretching all the way to the Earth's core. It's perfectly flat. It moves, a gentle rotation. But is that just your eyes, tricking you?

So much ink, it swallows the scroll, and this is when it's COMPRESSED.

How many nations?

How many NATIONS must this monstrosity span, when free?

It must have taken a Master decades, if not their entire life, to complete. Possibly a family, several generations. But... but gods it is a work of MADNESS. No wonder it was sealed. It speak, you... you THINK... of Death...

Of it's KING.

Something BEYOND the Shinigami. BEYOND Death and the Purelands.

Who the FUCK would try to summon something beyond GODS? Did they think they could control it? Chain it like the bijuu? You're so cold inside. Because you KNOW. You fucking KNOW, the ambitions and arrogance of those above you.

They'll think they can.

They won't listen.

You... you have to take this and RUN. You stand no chance. But no chance is better then oblivion. Anything is better then standing by and watching it happen.

You obviously don't make it. You never expected too. But at least... at least you won't have to watch whatever THAT is... arrive... fuck...

At least you TRIED.

And? Because leaf Ninja, specifically certain teams, have the MOST Shit luck imaginable? They arrive, having crossed paths with several other teams, on the way back home (yay! Warm food and real beds!) Just in time to see a desperate looking ninja from one of the small villages get fuckin pincushioned. Drop what is VERY clearly an Uzushio Scroll of considerable size and SEVERE SSS+ DO Not EVER Touch Grade Type Markings, and then some joining from that same village go to grab it.

Notice them.

You know... the multiple LEAF NINJA. Who TOO THIS DAY, wear the UZU swirl on their uniforms as a mourning tribute to the DEAR AND PRECIOUS ALLIES they could not save. The Uzushio Allies. Those ones. The ones that were, in fact, from Uzushio.

LIKE THE SCROLL YOU ARE HOLDING.

By the WAY! How DID you get that Scroll? Doesn't seem like something our dear friends would just HAND over, now does it? You didn't happen to LOOT THEIR FUCKIN GRAVES did you? Cause we sure would be MAD about that!

:)

Real Mad.

Dude obviously panics. Because that? That is a VERY pissed off bunch of Ninja, many in the bingo book, one of whom is Very Clearly throwing off BIJUU CHAKRA. And just said "my family's" Ha ha... Oh Shit that's an Uzumaki.

So he decides to USE THE SEAL.

What does it do?

He doesn't know! But it's probably SOMETHING big and impressive, right?

Yes. :) Yes it Does.

*Crack*

The SKY cracks. Like a pane of glass, struck by a hammer. Spiderwebbing as far as the eye can see above them, all from one central point, directly above the seal. The cracks there are concentrated. A point of impact. And through the cracks... something GREEN shines.

Brighter then the daylight around it, yet darker in color then the blue of the sky. Lazily whisping out like escaping mist. Time seems slow as their eyes all whip up wards. Even with senses beyond the normal human base, it is... inconceivable. SOMETHING winds back. They can not see it.

But they can feel it.

Like changing pressure as a storm rolls in.

*Crack!*

Green overtakes the blue. The sky a Kaleidescape of shards, held together by stubbornness alone. Reflecting a calm day that seems IMPOSSIBLE in the face of what's occurring. There should be wind. Great pressure changes in the face of so much FORCE, but the trees are eerily still.. utterly silent..

Nothing dares bring attention to itself.

Some distant part of their minds try to gather the thought that... that it could be an illusion. They... they should check. But they can FEEL it. Like a weight draped gently but without mercy upon their shoulders. It did not slam. But... but they can not move. Can barely breathe. It is beyond killing intent.

It is simply...

DEATH.

*CRASH!*

At last, the sky gives way. A fist, the size of towers punching through. It... it is almost elegant. A ring, almost in the shinigami's visage, wraps itself in a howling and snarled menace, around a great shining finger. A glove protects almost delicate looking, claw tipped fingers. The fist pulls back. Shard of sky falling, Floating, suspended in their moment of destruction, a glittering frame for the gapping wound that has overtaken everything.

Death...

Death has Green Eyes.

A crown of ice and starlight, pulled straight from the coldest north, hair that drifts like the drowned. His skin is that of a corpse. His breath a coldness that seems to suck all warmth from the world. There is no rage, no great irritation, his face merely twisted in slight annoyance. Mild displeasure.

And yet it feels like their greatest sin.

It BURNS.

They are ants. Less then ants. He... He LOOMS so TALL. The Green BURNS into their eyes, into their veins, chokes their lungs. The silence stretches. Those great eyes, the eyes of a GOD, move from them. To the man with the Seal.

He dies instantly.

Shit.

They... they need to... to...

Naruto wanders over and picks up the scroll, completely ignore the Giant Sky God Of Death and how all his friends are frozen in primordial fear. He roughly shakes the dirt off the delicate old relic, then squint at it. Figures he's holding it upside-down. Flipping it, he squints harder. Tilts his head and hums.

"Oh!"

He holds his hand up, turning to look at the terrifying Deity From Beyond Comprehension.

"It's me! I'm the Uzumaki! But, uh, I didn't actually summon you? Our stuff got stolen. Which really sucks!" He looks down again, brings the paper nearly to his nose trying to make out some thing. "Uuuuuh, huh. Got it! Can you get smaller? I don't got any BBQ or anything ON me right now, but Choji's Family makes REALLY good food! We can go out to eat? Ooh ooh! Maybe RAMEN! You like Ramen, right?!"

"Yep, Definitely one of Shouta's."

Rumbles The Actual Fucking King Of Death, shaking the trees and ground under your feet. As you probably stare at your fellow Leaf Nin like WTF.

"Sure, man. Give me a second."

And suddenly? He's leaning forward. Shrinking and twisting in ways that are painful to look at. The sky is... is not healing, so much as UNcracking. Rewinding itself to a pristine state. Until only a large, floating, armored God in black and white floats above you. Glowing.

One that... that is apparently FRIENDS with the Uzumaki Clan.

Because of course he is.

Naruto's introducing his Toads. And teammates. You almost feel bad for Hatake. But like? Better you then me, buddy. THEN? Death? Decides? For some inconceivable reason. "You know what? Im'ma just turn into a human WITH NO CHAKRA NETWORK. Reeeeeally freak out the locals."

And now Leaf is INCHARGE of entertaining A GOD until he decides to leave.

Or (presumably) Else.

And!! Because life loves to kick ninjas IN THE BALLS (for their stupid, STUPID life choices, YOU FUCKERS) it just HAD to be the One God? That can SEE DEAD PEOPLE. Because it's not like ninjas have Death Related Traumas or anything!

*internal ninja screaming*

Feed the guy some BBQ! Stat! Please Akimichi! Save us!

@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Nova Genesis

Part One

Summary: tensions rise as strangers board the ship and turn Dibs' entire operation on its head to obtain critical evidence. But not everyone feels the same at the prospect of returning to Earth | Word Count: 4.5k~ | Warnings: mentions of Ettore's crimes, swearing, mentions of violence, threatening behaviour, masturbation (m)

A/N: A birthday present for @dreamymoomin @in-a-mountain-pool, my fellow Ettore fucker (affectionate 😘). Have a very happy birthday <3

For the last several days, Dibs was irritable. There was something she wasn't telling them, and none of them had the interest nor the energy to ask. But something had spooked her, and that was never good. She stopped the weekly examinations for the females, and started destroying the samples from the males. Both of which were things she previously cherished as part of her twisted experiment for a child.

The rest simply followed their daily routine as usual, just without the lingering, judgemental glances from Dibs, replaced with a sense of unease and confusion when she’d shut herself in her office for days on end. It was a good and happy coincidence that at least without her help, they knew how to look after themselves. 

Loud alarms startled their otherwise quiet lunch. Some didn’t move an inch and others merely looked around, eyes wide with fear, not knowing what to do with themselves. And the second they felt the ship quite literally jolt, as if something had docked against them, Ettore had a sense of where the situation was headed. No more than fifteen minutes later, the doors where they had boarded the ship, opened once again, revealing quite shockingly a band of official looking people.

Several armed guards stood like pillars beside the army of lawyers and technicians, prepared to both shut down the operation and steer the spacecraft back towards Earth. They held their weapons casually, their gazes insistent that violence would occur should the team be threatened in any way.

“If you all know what's good for you, you'll let them do their work. And you'll all get to go home.”

Ettore watched with a stoic expression, as if uncaring and neutral at the idea of returning. He highly doubted that everyone shared the same opinion about the prospect of returning to Earth, to their prisons, where they all knew too well. 

His eyes watched with a deep interest as the team split off to start their investigation around the prisoners, starting with downloading the encrypted files Dibs had attempted to hide. Each one potential evidence for the twisted doctor's misconduct.

He watches one of the lawyers particularly closely, unable to admit to himself exactly why he finds her interesting to look at. They all wear casual clothes, something he has not seen since leaving Earth in the first place, and now something that seems so undeniably foreign and alien.

Her lanyard displayed both her name and her title. Legal Representation.

She started by organising individual meetings with the prisoners, for them to air their grievances, with evidence of course. Documenting each one regarding their treatment, health and level of punishment. Some were forthcoming and some, predictably, were not. And could she blame them? For so many months, years even, distrust was just another fact of life up here. 

Dibs watched with frustration her life work being dismantled and dissected. At first her attempts at justification were met with cold looks and shakes of their head from the legal team, eventually turning into silence. They were there not to debate ethics but to enforce the law and protect the rights of those who had been under her control.

The little lawyer, Ettore so affectionately named her in his head, was diligent about her work. And when he spotted her next, she was deep into downloading onto an external hard drive the encrypted data on Dibs' computer in the infirmary. He couldn’t deny, it was strange to have other people wandering the ship. The otherwise wide and meandering hallways now felt cramped, with barely two people able to stand side by side while letting another pass. It felt suffocating. And he knew it was only a matter of time before someone snapped. 

His jaw clenched as he watched her from the doorway, attempting to make sense of the software Dibs' had so often fiddled with to make it near impossible to infiltrate. And he wondered with a sense of defensiveness and perhaps immaturity, or naivety, that this woman was pushing change, and he wasn't sure if he liked that.

She let out a pleased sound when she cracked the last layer of security, and Ettore laughed through his nose.

“Suppose she didn't account for someone like you, hm,” he mused dispassionately and somewhat uninterested. A flash of irritation gnawed at him when she didn't look up from her work to address him.

“‘Dr Dibs’ didn't account for a lot of things,” she started, her tone neutral, “nevermind taking accountability.”

His eyes darkened, roving over her form behind. She was easily smaller. If he really really wanted, she wouldn't be able to fight. But did he want her to?

She finally paused and swivelled on her chair to face him, her expression insistent, making his darkened thoughts pause for just a moment.

"You don’t seem too thrilled about the prospect of going back to Earth. Most would be eager to leave this place.”

It wasn't a question, but he could smell that she wanted an answer. And normally, he would have entertained her. But her expression, coupled with her expectancy for him to bend, made him huff and turn away.

“Content with staying here and giving Dibs sperm samples for the rest of your life? Not that I think that's the part you dislike.”

She mumbles that last part under her breath, turning back to the computer to check its download progress. And while her back is turned, something is stoked in his eyes. That was an incredibly dangerous thing for her to say. Especially to him. To someone like him.

He shoves his hands in his scrub pockets, mostly to touch himself.

“And what is there to go back to?” He inquires, watching with interest when she turns back to him halfway. He raises his eyebrows, tone somewhat mocking, “something about the devil you know.”

She gives a breathy laugh, “suppose it's comfort in its own way. Wouldn't you rather live than just survive?”

He narrows his gaze, stubbornness enhancing his disbelief.

“You really believe that it's just step off this ship and poof, everything's fine?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Why would I want to go back to a world that forgot me the second they sent me up here?”

She sighs. “It'll be what you want it to be, if you keep thinking like that.”

He has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. These lawyer human rights fucking types will always cling to some kind of hope, however naive. It was a word long flung out of Ettore’s vocabulary, not that he was usually the hopeful type. She sighed through her nose at his lack of response and turned back around, typing quickly and practised on the keyboard. Her messy, plaited hair fell down her back, and for a brief, fleeting moment, he thought of what it would have been like to grab the end, and twist it over his fist he’d be strong enough to subdue her, that was for sure. Even thinking about it, he ran his tongue over his teeth.

He wondered if she knew what he was here for. Did she know the ins and outs of what the jury said about him? Or what the judge condemned him to? Or was he just another tick box on her list, just another name? Did she either understand the man he was now, or what he was capable of? It both thrilled and unsettled him in equal measure. He watched her slender fingers move across the keyboard, thinking, how would she react when she knew how dangerous he really was. 

Would she still carry that same determination, or would fear finally colour those idealistic eyes?

He smirked slightly, thinking that he had met many women like her that used her indifference as armour over her, shielding her from the darker truths of the world, or perhaps, just the darker truths of his world.

“You’ve read my file, haven’t you.”

His voice was low, almost a growl, daring her to acknowledge the monster many believed him to be. She paused, her fingers halting mid-type, and her lips parted. For a moment he thought she might turn around again, but she wet her lips and continued typing.

There was a firmness in her voice that surprised Ettore. “I've read your file, yes. I know what you've done.”

“And?”

“I’m not giving a glowing review on your crimes.”

He gave a huff of a laugh. “No need to get antsy, sweetheart.”

She turned her head, her face calm with an expression that belied any fear in him. “My job isn’t to judge, it's to defend human rights, yours included.”

Ettore's smirk widened, his eyes narrowing as he processed her words. "That's a neat way to put it. Defending human rights, even for someone like me? Must make you feel pretty good, huh?"

Her expression remained unchanged, her resolve as firm as ever. "You think I do this for my health?"

Before Ettore could respond, the sudden clang and shout from the other end of the corridor cut through their conversation. Both turned toward the noise. A group of guards hustled past, their faces tense, moving toward the source of the disturbance.

Ettore's attention briefly flickered to the commotion, then back to her, a victorious smirk on his face. "Looks like not everyone's as cooperative as I am."

She cocked her head, “and you’re being cooperative are you?” she asked firmly, with a harsh rhetorical edge. “Anyway, it’s not about that. It’s about your safety as a whole-”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried an unmistakable edge. "And what if I wasn't safe? What if I was the one out there causing trouble? Would you defend me then?"

She met his gaze, unflinching. "I defend the rights of all prisoners, no matter their crimes."

"Theoretically, right?" Ettore pushed back, amused.

"Practically."

Their intense exchange was suddenly interrupted by the return of the guards, escorting a handcuffed prisoner between them. The man was shouting, struggling against the restraints, his eyes wild with desperation.

"Fucking assholes! You're all just dressing it up as justice!" he yelled as he was dragged past them.

Ettore watched the scene unfold, his expression unreadable. Once the noise had died down, he turned back to her, his voice low. "Not everyone believes in your justice. Being out here…it changes people, makes them into monsters."

“I don’t believe that.”

Ettore's smirk faded, replaced by a contemplative frown. "Maybe you should. The monsters are real. And sometimes, they're closer than you think."

His words lingered in the air, thick with an ominous undertone, he turned and walked away, his steps deliberate and heavy against the metallic floor. She watched him go, his broad silhouette gradually merging with the shadows of the spacecraft's corridor. It was only when he disappeared from view that she realised she'd been holding her breath, her chest tight with apprehension.

She exhaled slowly, trying to dispel the tension that had coiled inside her during their conversation. The exchange had revealed layers to Ettore she hadn't fully appreciated before, depths of cynicism and a hint of something darker, perhaps a warning or a challenge. His parting words echoed in her mind, a reminder of the complex human narratives woven into the fabric of this mission.

Her eyes lingered on the corner where Ettore had vanished, the unsettling feeling of his presence still palpable in the air. She was left with a profound sense of the weight of her task, not just to administer legal justice but to understand and navigate the human elements at play. The reality of Ettore's warning, that the monsters might indeed be closer than she thought, settled heavy on her shoulders as she turned back to her work.

The mission to dismantle Dr. Dibs' operation continued, but a quieter but equally dangerous plan was brewing among a faction of the prisoners. These were men and women who, for various reasons, fears of retribution on Earth, lost ties, or simply the terror of facing their past crimes, had decided they were better off lost in space. They saw the arrival of she and her team not as a rescue but as a threat to the precarious stability they had found, or rather forged.

Ettore, caught between his newfound interest with his little lawyer and his inherent distrust of returning to a world that had discarded him, found himself pulled into this group’s orbit. Monte led the group, not particularly charismatic but he was seen as trustworthy, had quickly identified Ettore’s influence among the prisoners and sought to leverage it, despite their dislike for each other. There was something in Monte that was also as antsy as Dibs, as if he feared returning to Earth not because of the consequences, but because it meant confronting ghosts he had long buried.

With them, huddled in secret within the confines of the storage room, Mink leaned, arms crossed, as if she were still on the fence and could be persuaded. 

“This ain’t redemption,” Monte started, his eyes firm, “up here we’re forgotten, nothing but fuckin’ dust. Back there, we're monsters on display.”

Ettore scoffed lightly, “and what? Hijack the ship? You think that ends well for any of us?”

“You know Dibs wants ‘em gone too.”

“We’re not killing them,” Mink interjected.

Monte glared at Mink, his frustration evident. "You think I don’t know we can’t kill them? We take control, redirect the course. We can find a place out here where they can't just drag us back to face whatever hell they've cooked up for us on Earth."

“So they’re hostages,” Ettore added bluntly. “They’re not like us. They'll come looking for them."

Monte nodded, his voice steady. "Then we make it too costly to come after us. We send a message back, make it clear we’re not their lab rats anymore, not their spectacle."

Mink shifted uncomfortably, her arms still crossed, her gaze flickering between Monte and Ettore. "Okay, stop measuring dicks for one second. We're talking about potentially starting a war here. What if they send the military after us? We're equipped to handle guards, maybe, but not a fucking assault."

The two men beside her fell quiet, and Ettore glanced down the hallway as if to check they nobody was listening in.

Mink filled the silence, her decision torn in two different directions, “And what about the others? The ones who might want to go back?"

Ettore rolled his eyes slightly. "Sometimes you gotta make the hard choices for people. Look at where trusting Earth got us in the first place." 

His point didn’t at all mean to sound like he was supporting Monte, so he hated the little nod of agreement he gave. The way his eyes lit up.

But Monte caught it, misinterpreting Ettore’s reluctant agreement as support, his own resolve hardening. "We were discarded, forgotten. If we don't take a stand now, when will we ever?" he speaks erratically, as if even now pleading his case, “I killed a man. His family won’t rest until I’m buried. Talking won’t change that.”

Mink and Ettore remained silent. But their expressions could not be any more different.

“It won’t change it for you two either,” Monte added with venom, “You think any of us got a fair shot down there? You really trust this lawyer, these people, to make it right? Open your fucking eyes. She's here to make herself feel better, not to save anyone."

Ettore, who had been following the exchange silently, felt a surge of concern. His thoughts briefly flashed to his little lawyer, her conviction that the law could serve justice, her determination to fight for their rights. It contrasted starkly with the raw survival instinct that drove Monte.

“So that’s it then,” Ettore mused, “you want violence.”

Monte turned on Ettore, his gaze fierce. "If it’s violence they understand, it’s violence they’ll get."

Ettore met Monte’s fiery gaze with a steely resolve of his own. The tight confines of the storage room seemed to shrink further, suffocating under the weight of impending decisions. Decisions that could very well define the fate of everyone on board.

“You want to lead us into a war we can’t win,” he countered, “you’re gonna fuck all this up, and for what?”

Monte's breathing was heavy, his chest heaving with each breath, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He looked as if he wanted to say more, to argue that his plan was their only chance, but the fight seemed to drain from him second by agonising second. 

“Fine. We’ll see what your lawyer can do. But if it doesn’t work, if they don’t listen...” His voice trailed off, leaving the threat hanging, an unspoken ultimatum that they all understood.

After a week of tireless work aboard the spacecraft, tension simmered under a deceptive calm. She and her team had catalogued countless files and dismantled numerous experiments, yet they were still not close to gathering all the evidence they needed before the planned return to Earth. The ship was suspended in the vast silence of space, a temporary lull in their journey both literally and metaphorically.

Ettore leaned against the doorway, the threshold between their ship and the prisoner's felt so inescapable. The distance between their daily lives aboard the ship was not lost on him, and a cynical remark bubbled to the surface, and he couldn't help but run his eyes over her as she made her way past him to go to her own quarters.

With a sardonic twist to his lips, he approached her, his voice carrying just enough edge to be provocative. "You look tired, sweetheart. Must be tough, being so close yet so far from all the answers you need.”

She merely glared at him sideways, and despite her composed exterior, there was a fatigue in her eyes that spoke volumes about the strain they were all under.

“It's part of the job. And Dibs hasn't exactly made it easy.”

Ettore chuckled softly, the sound more mocking than amused. "Sure, but at the end of the day, you get to retreat to your safe corner of the ship, away from all of us. Sleep better thinking you’re not surrounded by monsters?”

Her face remained impassive, but her eyes hardened slightly, a hint of steel beneath the surface.

He huffs. “Maybe one night you should try sleeping over here, see how dangerous we really are. Maybe then you’d get all your evidence faster.”

There was a moment of silent acknowledgment between them. It was a threat. One meant to hit deep. If she was smart, she'd see the larger threat beneath it.

"Just remember, justice feels different depending on which side of the ship you sleep on.”

She cocked her head at him, but not in question, her eyes remained steadfast and firm. It was as if she merely wanted to see a different angle of him.

“Maybe it’s less about where I sleep,” she muses, “maybe it’s understanding the lay of the land, hm? Knowing where the landmines are buried.”

Ettore’s expression shifted only barely, whether she caught it or not, he couldn’t tell. She had obviously been interviewing all the prisoners. And if he had to guess about who was likely to blab about this plan Monte had cooking, it was most likely Boyse. They’d notoriously disliked each other.

But a subtle smirk rose to his lips. She was trying to prod him, thinking he was the leader in all of this. Where she could not be more wrong.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart.”

Her jaw tightened at that. And his warning was cryptic enough and yet clear enough to read the hidden meaning beneath. There were dangers lurking within the ranks. Uprisings. That not only jeopardises the mission, but their lives as well. She felt her heart thud hard in her chest, feeling right now more than ever, that she did not belong here.

With a thick swallow, she sighed, trying to appear calm, “I appreciate your concern for our safety.”

Ettore gave a half-smirk, recognising her diplomatic reply. And though he was tempted to say more, to see how she’d squirm, he pushed off the wall and turned his back to her. He recognised he had shared too much with her, a crucial piece of information, but something that also revealed a concealed trust for her. 

When he turned back to glance at her, he felt a smug pride in his chest, she was still watching him. And her eyes flickered upwards when she felt she had been caught. And the little lawyer scurried away back to her haven, with not another word.

She returned to her quarters, the sound of the door sealing behind her echoing slightly in the compact, utilitarian space that served as her temporary sanctuary. She slipped out of her shoes, feeling the cool metal floor beneath her feet, a small comfort after another long day of navigating the tight corridors and tighter tensions of the spacecraft.

After a long and decompressing shower, she moved to her small desk, where she activated her datapad, to record her nightly entries for the team back on Earth, to update them on the progress.

Day 23.

Looking at herself on the screen, her hair wet over her shoulders, she felt she looked tired and more weary, compared to when she first arrived. And wondered briefly how the prisoners had not yet gone mad. 

“The evidence we need to solidify the case against Dr Dibs is…extensive and…elusive. She’s trying to hide things, which doesn’t help, behind walls of useless other data she thinks we’ll miss. The crew’s morale fluctuates, as expected. They are under immense stress, given that the cooperation of some of the prisoners has been divisive at best.  Boyse’s interviews are particularly interesting. She’s afraid of going back to Earth, seeing as there is little support for her. But she seems rather excited to see Dibs see justice for the horrendous things she's done to them. She made me aware of a former prisoner, Elektra, who died shortly after childbirth due to lack of proper care. The baby... also did not make it. Boyse has made it very clear that the experiments and examinations on the women have both become more frequent and more desperate after this incident. Mink tells a similar story, albeit with some details redacted. Unfortunately, Dibs disposed of the bodies shortly after their deaths, so they won’t be recoverable.  They both heavily dislike most of the men on board, with the exception of Tcherny. He seems keen on returning to Earth. Mostly because he has nobody there to judge him anymore. Monte…has refused interviews. And too refuses interaction with any of us. Ettore. Well, he was cryptic today, as usual. I believe he is the type of person to lure people in just to watch them try and escape him.”

She paused, with a heavy sigh, running her hand through her hair. Stress gnawed at her temples. And something else tugged at her gut. Something she could not mistake as sickness.

“He refuses to say anything outright. But we must tread carefully. It’s clear some, if not most, of the prisoners do not wish to return, fearing retribution and violence, or whoever awaits them who will not share in our opinions of them. I can’t help but…wonder why we are here.”

She couldn’t concentrate after that. Her thoughts involuntarily drifted to Ettore. There was something undeniably compelling, beyond the complexities of his personality. Her racing thoughts could not keep up with her mouth, it felt.

“He’s an enigma. He has strong features but…manages to control them under a mask. And yet, there’s an intensity in his eyes that’s so piercing. The way he looks at me sometimes…it’s unsettling. And yet I can’t find it in myself to look away. And his voice, even when he whispers it’s…”

“The monsters are real. And sometimes, they're closer than you think."

She swallows, her fingers resting on her throat as if to feel her own pulse.

“It carries a weight, one that commands attention. Like a threat but also…like he’s testing me, measuring my reactions…”

“Maybe one night you should try sleeping over here, see how dangerous we really are.”

“...like a predator.”

She paused, clarity rushing back to her like a wave, pulling her under and robbing her of breath. With a quick flick, she turned off the video, taking a moment to really consider her words and her runaway thoughts. Why was she focusing so much on his physical details? She argued perhaps that it was the amount of time she’d spent with all of them. But she shook her head slightly, trying to steer her thoughts back to reality.

After a moment of pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes, the stress and internal conflict caused her to hastily climb into bed, hoping perhaps that the sweet escape of sleep might rid her of these thoughts. As she lay back in her bed, staring up at the ceiling of her quarters, the ship's constant hum a soft backdrop, she couldn't help but replay their interactions. There was an undeniable tension there, something that went beyond the usual professional dynamic. Was it just the stress of the mission making her over analyse, or was there something more, something real and tangible in the way he moved and spoke that kept drawing her thoughts back to him?

Ettore too, lay awake, lost in turbulent emotions. His mind replaying his interactions with her, each moment etched into his memory. The way her eyes narrowed in concentration, the subtle shift in her posture when he spoke of their harsh conditions on the ship before their arrival, and particularly, the flickers of fear when he would tread into dangerous territory with his words alone. Not even having to be near her. He was captivated by those expressions, those nuances, and the challenges they presented. 

In the quiet solitude of his cell, Nansen asleep in the top bunk, he allowed his hand to slide beneath his scrubs, eyes slipping shut as his hand lazily stroked his length to full hardness in no time at all. He indulged in the image of her. Her intelligent, alert eyes seemed to follow each word he said. Always evaluating.  Evaluating him.

And fuck, did it feel good to be picked apart by her. 

He returned to the same recurring thought he’d had every night, that if he pushed her boundaries, how would she react when truly tested? He wanted to see her rough, unguarded. Would she shrink or rise to the challenge? The mere thought of breaking through those defenses to a place where she might react out of sheer instinct, rather than reason, was intoxicating. 

With a stuttered moan, and coming hard into his hand with a jerk of his hips, the challenge was set, and Ettore was eager to see it through, to discover just how deep the layers of his little lawyer went.

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Dark But Just A Game

You and Roman play tag. (5k)

Tags - noncon, one shot, smut, dark!Roman, maybe even slasher!roman??? unprotected piv, creampie, fingering, finger sucking, come eating, oral sex (f!receiving) violence, manhandling, inappropriate use of a box cutter - no gore though, i promise. i'm too squeamish to actually injure characters and deal with describing that. lack of aftercare, typical Roman sexism, Roman taunting, gaslighting, intimidating, lying, bullying. Takes place on Halloween. If you need more detailed warnings, message me. Fic help - MY BABY @endlessthxxghts!! thanks for having it in you to edit this A/N - I had fun with this creep!!! I plan to do more dark!roman in the future where he’s your creepazoid landlord stalker guy. Probably not as extreme as this fuck. This is my early Halloween treat for all of you 🎃 hope everyone has a safe and fun holiday!

If you’re interested in the music I listened to while writing this

“Can I leave now?”

Roman looks up at the ceiling and shakes his head as he sighs. “No, and quit asking me. You’re not leaving until I’m done.”

Fucker. 

You’d never noticed before just how uncomfortable the couch in Roman’s office is, but after laying on it for the last three hours, you’re painfully aware. The material is scratchy, it’s uninviting. More for show than comfort, no doubt. Roman’s at his desk typing, scrolling, doing god knows what on his computer. What does he even do, actually? You’ve worked with Roman for a long time now and you hear him talk a lot about work, but as far as doing work - actually working, he does fuck all. “You never do anything, never, and now you’re…?”

“Watching porn, nuisance. Very important. Now fuck off.” 

You don’t doubt that he really is watching porn, honestly. This is the third time you’ve asked Roman what he’s doing and you have yet to receive a legitimate answer. He’s got you stuck here in his office as he works - or whatever it is he’s doing - until he’s done. The rest of the building emptied out hours ago but Roman kept you late, insisting that he’d need you for something. Yet so far, he hasn’t needed you for anything. But you can’t leave, though. Per Roman’s instructions, you are not allowed to leave the building by yourself. 

He couldn’t give two fucks usually, but knowing that you park in the garage, where it’s less secure than the rest of the building, Roman likes to walk you out when you’re all alone. There’s been incidents in that garage before. Nothing severe enough to actually do something about it or - more likely - nobody at Waystar really cares to. Nobody except for Roman, who insists on making sure you’re never alone in that garage. He doesn’t know why that is exactly. Maybe he’s got a soft spot for you. 

Your phone died a half hour ago, and you left your charger in your car. Roman’s minimalistic analog clock reads eleven-something; you can’t exactly tell the time with the way the silver hands lay on the white background, the glare of the lights, and how the numbers aren’t even labeled. “Do you even like that clock?”

“What clock?” You point to it. It takes Roman a second to peel his eyes from his monitor, and then he squints at it. “Huh. That clock. Never noticed it before.” And his attention is back on his screen. Roman looks handsome even under the harsh, bluish light from his computer, the rest of the room pretty dark. He had you turn off the overhead lighting an hour ago. It was giving him a headache. 

“I’m ready to go, Roman.”

Roman huffs. “Jesus Christ. I. Know. God, you’re like a fruit fly. Always buzzing in my fucking ear. What, am I keeping you from something? Costume party? Fucking - I don’t know. Passing out candy?” 

“No, but–” 

“But what?” 

“I’m tired.” 

It’s the truth, you are tired. And you did have plans, too. It’s Halloween, and you love to watch the same three slasher movies by yourself every year with a bowl of shitty microwave popcorn and some fun-sized candies. You’ve got a variety bag of candy in your car you picked up earlier in preparation, actually. But as the hours passed being stuck in Roman’s office, you gave up on that plan. You’d really just like to go home and sleep.

“Then take a nap,” Roman says. “I’m not even making you work. You’re getting paid to sit there and bitch to me. I can make you shred papers or something, though. Is that what you want?” 

“I shredded your papers yesterday.” 

“Then I’ll make you shred the blank ones. Scroll through Instagram and shut up.” 

You roll your eyes. What a fucking asshole. Roman goes back to his screen, and you take some time to watch him. He just…stares. At nothing. The screen doesn’t change, it’s just that same blue-white light reflected on his face. Roman’s eyes are glazed over, his brow is pinched together. He just seems not totally there right now. He’s probably rereading the same email over and over again, but you do that too. Focus too hard on trying to be productive that you end up moving in the opposite direction.

Fuck this. Roman will keep you here until sunrise at this rate, so you pack up your purse. “I’m going to my car,” you say, walking across the room. 

Roman glares at you. “Don’t,” he says, pointing in your direction. “It’s Halloween and there’s nutjobs out there. Do you know what could happen to a girl like you in a parking garage all by yourself?”

You scoff, “Fuck off. You’re ridiculous, Roman.” 

Roman bites down on his smile to hide his amusement. You’re his first assistant to take none of his shit, who bites him back. What Roman lacks in size and personality, he makes up for in power and status, and he uses that advantage to bully anyone lower than himself. Never works on you, though. Roman wonders how he could change that. Everyone’s got a breaking point.

“I’m leaving.”

“No. If you leave without me, so help me god I will - I don’t know. I’ll hunt you down. I am asking you to give me just like, five minutes. Can you wait five minutes?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Five minutes, my ass.” You take your hand off the door handle and lean against the frame. “What’s this about hunting me down?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I’ll hunt you down.” Roman rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Sounds fun. Like tag,” you smirk. You adjust your bag on your shoulder and saunter towards Roman at his desk, then tap his shoulder. “You’re it.” 

Roman says your name in a threatening tone. “Do you think I’m kidding? I’m not fucking with you. Go sit down.”

You tap Roman again, then open the door. You dangle one foot out of the frame, giggling as you threaten to run. “I’m going to my car.” 

Roman sighs and leans back in his rolling chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Always a game to you, huh?”

“Not always. But right now, yeah. Play with me, Roman. For like, five minutes.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh. “I have some Halloween candy in my car. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, really? Anything at all?” Roman watches you nod, a mischievous smile on your face. Whatever you’re thinking, he’s thinking worse. “Hmm. Enticing. Yeah, alright. I’ll fucking play game, fucking show you. I’ll even give you a headstart, hm? I’m feeling generous.”

“Really? How long?”

“Don’t know yet, so you better run fast. But–” Roman pauses, mulling an idea over in his head. “You can’t use the elevator.” 

“What do you mean, ‘can’t use the elevator’?”

“Sound it out,” he mocks. “What do you think it means?” Fucking asshole. You roll your eyes as you play with the door a little, swinging it open and closed little by little. “Those are my terms.” Roman folds his arms across his chest.

“Are you gonna use the elevator?”

Roman makes a face and shakes his head. “Of course not. We’re gonna play fair and square. You run, I run. But faster, obviously. So you better get the fuck out, sweetheart.” 

“Okay. You’re on,” you smile. “Peace out, then.” 

And that’s it. Roman watches you leave. He cranes his neck a little to watch the direction you turn, and like a good girl who follows his rules, you go for the staircase. 

Roman never had such complicated feelings about a woman before you came along, which says a lot given the fact he’s never had a normal relationship with a woman either. He’s perturbed by your fierceness, your independence and confidence in the face of everything you put up with at Waystar and from Roman himself. A dirty joke in the car, a pinch on your ass cheek in the elevator. It does nothing to get under your skin or make you squirm. Your happiness, that stupid smile you wear. Your laughter and your sense of humor. He wants to break down all of those parts of you, just to see if he can debase you to his level. So tonight, he’ll humor you and play the game, if that’s what it takes. Just for shits and giggles. What other opportunity does he have to do this, anyway? If you get away, win the game of tag, so be it. But if you don’t, you’re his to do with what he wants. He’ll get you in his arms and he’ll…he’ll…

Roman closes out the windows on his Mac, then shuts the computer down entirely. He smiles a little at the small Snoopy figurine you put on his desk one day after he mentioned liking the character. You told him it made sense, that you could see it. Him liking Snoopy’s character, that is. Roman opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a boxcutter, turning the tool over in his hand. There’s not even a good reason for him to have it. But he’s not gonna do anything, of course. Obviously he’d never do anything real. He’ll just…freak you out a little. It’s Halloween night, after all. If there was any time for a spook and all that. 

Roman holds the boxcutter tightly in his hand as he stands up. He leaves his jacket on the back of the chair, his phone on his desk. He shuts off the lights and follows after you, taking sure steps as he walks that first hall. He turns down the same staircase that you did and peers over the ledge where he can see that you’re running your way down. The door behind him shuts loudly and startles you, an excited giggle escaping your lips. He wishes he felt excitement like that too.

Roman guesses you’re about seven levels below the top floor where you started when you enter the closest door to yourself. He repeats the floor number to himself through whispers, pacing his way down the steps. Bits of his hair are falling out of place, tickling his eyes and the bridge of his nose. 

Roman barges through the same door you entered and scans the dark room for your body. It takes him a second for his eyes to adjust, but he thinks he sees it - your shoe poking out from behind a desk as you crouch. He tiptoes closer to you, peering over more desks and boxes of paper to see if he can spot you, or if his mind is playing a trick on him. He curses when the floor creaks under one of his steps. “God - fuck,” he hisses. 

You hear him in front of you. There’s quite a distance between you and him yet, but you’re a sitting duck just waiting here. In the trash bin under the desk you’re hiding behind you spot a plastic water bottle still a quarter full. Quietly, gingerly, you pull it out and toss it in the corner of the room so that Roman’s attention turns to where it clattered.

You crawl around the cubicle, then rise to your feet to move quicker. Roman inspects the water bottle, then the desk where he thought he saw you. His footsteps are getting louder, so you sprint as quietly as you can into one of the nearby cubicles, your back against the wall as you hold your breath.  

With wide eyes, you watch Roman walk right past yourself in the cubicle. You feel giddy at the thought of winning this game, so giddy you have to cover your own mouth to stifle a laugh of excitement. You poke your head out of the cubicle a little and watch Roman turn to the left, then make a mad dash for the exit and sprint back down the stairs. 

Roman had thought about going back to the staircase so that you’d have to meet him there, but he decided against it - the game doesn’t last as long that way. He lets you run down the steps so that you tire yourself out a bit and he walks the other direction until he’s standing in front of the elevator he promised he wouldn’t get on. Roman presses the button with the arrow pointing down and smirks to himself, flicking the switch of the boxcutter, poking the blade in and out, in and out. The elevator dings and the doors open, Roman takes it down to garage level. 

He waits. Flicks the blade up and down, up and down. 

-

That blue P for parking sign has never looked so beautiful. You catch your breath for a second at the bottom of the stairs, then look up to see if you can see Roman. He’s not there, but you don’t believe he didn’t hear you leave that one floor you played cat and mouse on. Maybe he went down a different staircase, he does know the building better than you do. After catching your breath, you cautiously open the door to the garage. Roman perks up when he hears the horn of your car beeping repeatedly as you unlock it, fidgeting with the button on your keys. “Fuckin’ obnoxious,” he mutters to himself, waiting for you to walk far enough away before pressing the ‘door open’ button on the elevator so that you don’t hear the sound. 

Relief watches over you as you make it through the parking garage, all cold and damp and smelling of concrete and oil, and no sign of Roman. You look around - It’s eerie in here, a liminal with its fluorescent lighting, but not quite bright enough to light up the dark atmosphere. Each floor is completely empty, save for your car. You smile as you reach your vehicle and open the back door, your heart pounding, exhilarated that you outran Roman as you toss your belongings onto the seat.  

You feel it before you hear it. Warmth against your back, a bulge against your ass. A hand over your mouth, fingers and thumb harshly digging into the hollows of your cheeks. Your eyes widen as you squeal in fear and excitement. 

Roman has you held tightly against his chest - he wins the game. But he realizes that he didn’t actually think this far. Didn’t think about what he’d do once he had you in his arms. If he’d catch and release, or if he has more in mind than that. As Roman contemplates, you start to squirm and panic - this has gone on too long. You don’t even know that the person holding you is Roman, so you thrash against him. It only serves to excite the man, to hold you tighter so that he’s hurting you. 

“Hey, shhhh...shut up. Shut the fuck up. Stop - fuck - fucking squirming. It's me, okay? Relax. It’s just Roman.” The identification doesn’t calm you much. Something about him feels off. “Tag, remember? I got you. You’re it.”

Roman waves to you in the window opposite to your position, wiggling his fingers as he wears a bizarre smile, the shadows on his face making him look all dark and severe. There's something in his hand, too. Metallic and sharp-looking.You don’t register what it is until he presses it against your side and you can make out the object. A boxcutter. Roman threatens to push it further and you gasp, though with his hand over your mouth you don’t breath in much air. “I told you l’d fucking show you, didn’t I? Hey - didn’t I?”

Roman tugs your blouse up your torso, grazing the tip of the blade up and down your ribcage. You watch it happen in the window, tears springing up in your eyes. This doesn’t feel like a game, and if it is, you want no part of it. This feels...this feels scary. Roman’s taking it too far, and it feels real. A few tears roll down your cheeks, down the back of Roman's hand. You don’t wanna play this game anymore.

“Tears, huh? That didn't take long. Should check Guinness. See if you broke a record or something.” Roman lightly draws the blade over your skin, writing his name in sloppy cursive letters. R-O-M-A-N. He could press hard against your skin and his signature would be carved into you permanently. “I know, I know,” he whispers. “Are you regretting this?”

You nod. Roman's palm is becoming damp with your warm breath, your tears collecting between his hand and your skin. You try to pull him away from you so you can speak, but he holds on tighter.

“I asked you before if you knew what could happen to a girl like you in a parking lot like this. Wanna guess now?”

Only now does Roman remove his hand from your mouth, but he holds it just as tightly over your chest. You shake your head, “No,” you answer, voice wobbling. Good, Roman thinks. You want to scream, tell him that this isn’t funny. You’re scared and you want to be done with whatever this game has turned into. But you don't have enough of a voice to say anything but no. A quiet, pleading, shaky, and useless no.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Roman begins. “Some bad, bad man will snatch you up, just like this.” He gestures to you with the boxcutter. He smiles, “He’ll drag you somewhere nice and quiet, where nobody can hear you scream. Like this.” He points to the rest of the garage. “He’ll bend you over-” Roman keeps the blade at your side and forces you down, down so that your chest is pressed into the backseat of your car. He puts a knee on your back, trapped like an animal underneath him as he presses his weight into you. Roman bends over and pushes some hair out of your face, twirling it around his slender fingers. You struggle to breathe, both with his weight on your chest and your hyperventilating. He continues, “And he’ll have his way with you. Fuck any hole he wants, shit - maybe he’ll even make a new one. Like I’m gonna do with you, right?”

It’s here where you realize the game is over, ended long ago, and question if it was even ever a game to Roman. Your gut churns in anxiety, you feel like you’re gonna puke. Is Roman gonna fuck any hole of yours he wants, or is he gonna make a new one? But being paralyzed in fear, and all you can do is hope that this’ll all be over soon, or maybe it’s just a dream. You’ll wake up in bed all sweaty and sticky and out of breath, but you’ll shower away the thought of this. 

“You could end up on the news tonight,” Roman taunts. “It’s a scary, scary fuckin’ world out there. You have no idea what some sickos are capable of.”

Roman considers what he wants to do to you. He could leave you here and you’d be sufficiently frightened for Halloween, be your real life slasher movie. But you’re so scared, so pliant, so devoid of all confidence and bite and spirit. Roman wants to continue to exploit that, beat it down.

He tugs down your pants until they’re around your knees, then slides the blade of the boxcutter beneath the waistband of your panties. You cry harder, panicking and choking on your sobs. “Shhh,” Roman shushes you, cutting the fabric of your underwear before ripping it off of you completely. “Deep breaths, sweetheart, don’t cry. It could be worse, you know? It’s not the real thing. It’s just a game. That’s all it is. We’re just playing a game. I am just trying to show you what’s out there.” 

You thrash again. “Hey,” Roman snaps and smacks your ass hard enough to leave a print. He stands behind you, no hands on your body and impressed that you stay like that. Roman spreads your legs, exposing your cunt to himself. He slides the blade of the boxcutter back down and drags the tool up and down your folds, patiently waiting for you to become wet. “You don’t fight back much,” Roman murmurs. “Why is that? You’re just like, f- oh. Answered my own question. Fight, flight, or freeze. You’re a freezer.”

“I’m scared, Roman,” you whimper. “You’re really scaring me.”

Roman scoffs. “Oh, you’re scared? Imagine how scared I am, knowing some sick fuck could do this to you. Legitimately,” he adds. “It breaks my heart, honestly. You’re lucky I know what’s best for you, sweetheart.” 

Roman puts the boxcutter into his pocket and touches you himself instead, first spitting on his fingertips before cupping your mound. He hums in sick satisfaction at feeling the pool of arousal at your core. “Do you know how fucking soaked you are? A worse man wouldn’t get your pussy wet like this. He’d fuck you dry. Think about how good you have it with me.”  

Roman toys with your pussy, making lewd noises as he rubs it, taps it, cups it. You’re only getting wetter, but you won’t make a sound, instead biting on a seatbelt, tears falling from your eyes squeezed shut. You’re not so subtle, though. Roman notices the subtle rocking of your hips, whether you realize you’re doing it or not. “You’re allowed to moan,” Roman murmurs as he strokes your folds. “I’d really like to hear you.”

He gives you a moment to find your voice. He’d even take a breathy sigh, if not a cry of pleasure. 

Nothing. 

“I said,” Roman begins, brutally pushing just two fingers into your slick entrance, letting you feel how his bony knuckles stretch your pussy. It hurts, oh, Roman knows how it hurts you. “I want to hear you. You know how much I hate repeating myself.”

You let out a soft whimper in response, the noise landing somewhere between pleasure and fear. 

“Good girl,” Roman praises, pulling his fingers out of you almost all of the way to admire the way you’ve soaked him, digits all coated in your creamy ribbons of slick. He pushes them back in and curls them repeatedly, brushing against that sensitive place inside you, the added pressure of being on your stomach intensifying it all. In the deepest part of you, you can’t help but to want more, another finger or maybe even his cock. And that makes you cry harder, and fills you with a unique sense of disgust you’ve never felt before. 

Roman curls his fingers rhythmically in your pussy, twisting and spreading them, getting your cunt ready for him to fuck. He didn’t plan on doing you this courtesy, but again - Roman’s got that soft spot for you. That, and the slick, wet noises you make for him, the way your body looks all laid out on your backseat, goosebumps on your bare skin as you push yourself against his hand Roman’s not entirely ready to give this view up yet.

After a time, it’s over. Roman pulls his fingers from you and you whimper, choking on your quiet sobs. Roman wedges one arm beneath your stomach and pulls you up, then shoves your purse under you so that you’re propped up for him nicely. You summon the courage to look over your shoulder at what he’s doing. 

“You’re in good hands,” he promises, meeting your gaze. His eyes are dead but wild like an animal, a little bit of sweat sparkling on his forehead, hair all out of place. Roman snaps and points, “Eyes forward. Now.” 

He unbuckles his belt and takes his cock and balls out of his pants and underwear so that they’re resting over the waistband. Roman rubs his thumb over the sticky tip before squeezing the base of his cock, then pumps himself a little, working his cock to full length. He spreads your cheeks wide, slick hole puckering as you wait to be filled once more. “You’re a mess.” Roman slides his thumb up and down your gash. He gathers your arousal and pulls you up by the neck with one hand, then shoves his thumb into your mouth with the other. “Taste it,” he says. “You fucking want this.” 

You barely have time to register the flavor of your own arousal before Roman’s pushing you back down again and lining up with your entrance. He gives you no warning before pushing inside you unceremoniously. 

“Roman,” you cry, reaching for the seat belt to pull yourself away from him. Roman lets you pull yourself far enough so that his cock pulls out of you almost all of the way, then pulls you back down on it. 

“You can’t run from it,” he coos, beginning a steady pace. “You have to take it. No use fighting.” He draws in and out of you slowly as he holds your hips and rubs circles into your skin. Still crying, Roman soothes you, “Shh,” he hushes, shoving his thumb back into your mouth. “You’re fine. I’m being gentle for you. A bad man wouldn’t fuck you slow like this, would he?”

To Roman’s credit, he is being gentle with you. His thumb feels unfamiliar in your mouth at first, but quickly becomes a comfort to you as you suck it, use it to pacify yourself. You stare at a fallen piece of candy on the floor and focus on the details of the wrapper, see what you can’t read to block out the feeling of Roman inside of you. I’m not here. This isn’t happening.  

“Yeah, not so bad, is it?” Roman pants, hips rocking against yours as he fucks you in two. “You could have it worse. So, so much worse.”

Roman pumps in and out of you at a steadier pace now, so deeply and so intentional so that you feel all of him. His hand on your hip, squeezing you, the weight of his body as he slams into you in a non-rhythm, no fluidity at all.  You’re drooling, slobbering on Roman’s thumb as he fucks you and all you can do is take it, every punishing thrust he delivers onto you. 

For Roman, it’s becoming too much. He can’t keep himself together and release is inevitable. Roman knows time is moving slowly for you but if it weren’t, he’d be a little embarrassed at how quickly he’s falling apart. Figuring there's no point in staving it off any longer, Roman lets himself feel everything he wants to feel. He’s grunting, moaning, growling as he loses himself in your cunt. “Oh fuck, I’m - fuck, fuck you, fucking…bitch. Fuck.” 

Roman’s stomach and balls tense as he quickly approaches his release, groaning loudly as he spills into you, coming so hard he feels dizzy. He pulls out of you to pump his cock through his orgasm, painting those last few ropes of his spend onto your twitching pussy. Roman leans against the driver’s side door of your car as you catch your breath on the backseat, still staring at that piece of candy. It’s over. It’s done. 

When you prop yourself up on your elbows, Roman shoves you back down. “Nope, you stay there. I’m not done with you yet,” he says. “Gonna make you come for me.” 

Another sob escapes your throat and you cry hard. “Please,” you beg. “I’ve had enough, Roman. I just wanna–”

“Go home,” Roman mocks your voice. “I know, I know, I fucking know. But I’m a gentleman, aren’t I? Would you prefer I leave you high and dry? Come on. Use your head.” 

Roman drops to his knees, joints cracking as he gets into position. He spreads your lips and presses a kiss to your center, all swollen and covered in his come. He licks you from clit to asshole, then rounds the tight muscle with his tongue before dragging it back down. He moves his lips and tongue in tandem to bring you pleasure, working you steadily until you’re letting out those little whimpers of ecstasy. 

Roman moves his face as he devours you, his scruff scratching your inner thighs while he licks all of his spend out of your hole. The sweet and heady taste of you and him together is addicting, the warm scent of your most private, sensitive place. Roman will smell you in his facial hair later and get himself off to the thought of this but for now, he focuses on making you come all over his tongue. 

You buck your hips into his face as he eats you, Roman smirks at this. He moves lower so that he’s sucking your clit, causing your legs to shake at the sides of his head as he eats you like the first meal he’s had in days. He holds you firmly in his grip, nails digging into your flesh like he could rip it off your bones while his tongue swirls over your clit. You reach behind yourself out of desperation, searching for a part of him to hold onto when you come. Roman takes your hand in his, giving you a place to land. 

You’re seeing stars. Climax is inevitable, and there’s no point in fighting it off. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You stop swallowing your own moans and let yourself make noise freely, allowing the pleasure to build. It’ll be over soon. 

You sob when you come, all that emotion breaking like a dam. Roman uses his tongue to fuck you through it, push you to the point of discomfort and overstimulation. Roman turns you over in the backseat and pulls you up, up to examine you. Face and eyes all puffy and swollen, soaked with tears. Body shaking uncontrollably. Roman pouts as he wipes your eyes, you poor, blubbering mess. 

He helps you into the driver’s seat of your car, buckles you in and tightens the seat belt. Roman leans over you to reach into that bag of Halloween candy and grabs a pink lemonade flavored Starburst. Roman smiles, “My favorite,” he mumbles, unwrapping the candy and shoving it into his mouth. “Alright. Drive safe. Watch out for Michael Myers, I don’t know. See ya Monday.” Roman shuts your door and pats it twice, waving behind himself as he walks away.

TYSM for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog with kind thoughts or send me an ask or comment ♡

I know that usually I tag my Roman readers, but given how triggering this fic could be to some, I'm not doing that. I'll see you all next time with stepdaddy!roman ♡

[hazelfoureyes]

i have a bit of a fun ask :) can u put ur spotify on shuffle and write a fic with vox based on the first song that plays? plz plz HAZEL PLZ

Please please please know I am still getting my sea legs with Vox! So don’t go into this expecting my usual… uhhh skill? Confidence? also testing the new tag list system

「Warnings/Promises: Val exists, Vox x Fem Reader, stalking, pastry decimation, casual sexism」

Stalker’s Tango

From the moment you stepped out of your home, he was eagerly watching.

The security doorbell camera on your porch let him see you wore black pants and a white blouse. Perfect. A white pocket square in his suit jacket pocket to complement. “Wonderful choice as always, babe.” He spoke softly to the screen; to you.

He followed every move, jumping with muscle memory speed from traffic camera to home security camera to shopwindow full of screens.

When you stopped to go into a bakery, he was there in the cctv cameras, fisheye view of your order of cold brew coffee and a croissant. “Impeccable taste.” A confident laugh between you two as he shot off a text to craft services, two words, ‘Croissants. Now.’

“Could you possibly warm that?” You asked the young man behind the counter.

Another text. ‘Heated.’

He watched you at the bus stop. A man sat beside you and smiled at you. You offered a kind smile back. “Who the fuck is that?” He zoomed in, taking a screenshot to send to Velvette, ‘Find socials for this pissant.’

When you stepped onto the bus he sighed, relief the man was no longer bothering you but also with a heart heavy. You didn’t belong on the bus. Why couldn’t he just buy you a car? No, better, He should send a driver to pick you up daily. A personal chauffeur. You shouldn’t have to bother yourself with driving.

No, he was thinking too small. You should live in the tower. Angel Dust used to, why couldn’t you? A moment of fantasy.

Perhaps he’d walk in to find you in your pajamas. What ever could they be? He searched your online shopping history and couldn’t find a single purchase for sleep wear. Your lack of home television and a computer limited him to only watching you from your stoop and beyond. He buckled, what if you didn’t wear anything to bed? Why didn’t you let him see you at night? What did he need to do for you to trust him in your home.

A knock at the door he didn’t acknowledge. His sole focus was you. A book? You minx. Always playing hard to get. He knew you got the e-reader he sent. He watched you take the package from the doorbell camera, after all.

“Sir,” a small and slightly pathetic voice spoken through the door, “I’m getting word from downstairs they’re not sure how to keep croissants warm in the studio.”

Another zoom, what were you reading? He’d have the author on Vox programming, sure to take photos like old chums for you to see on your bus stop bench ads.

Vox rose slowly from his chair, eyes on you as he backed away from his desk.

A change in routine. You cut through Jekyll Park. No cameras.

Vox hurried to the door, huffing as he flung it open, “Have you never heard of a warming lamp?”

“They don’t have any… normally they only offer cold items.”

“Fine then have,” he pointed at a random employee walking by, “that fucker stand there with a toaster oven”

The eel demon shrunk, “Well he works for us not for-.”

The screen that comprised his head filled with static, eyes a swirling rage of red and black, “He works for the Vees. He goes where we tell him.”

He slammed the door, taking a moment to recompose himself before turning to face you. He didn’t want you to see him like that.

Spinning back, charming smile cocked on his face, “Alright where are you?” He strolled up to the displays and returned to his seat, scanning around until he found you again. But he wasn’t finding you. He couldn’t do anything about the park’s lack of cameras, it was pentagram city property, or else he’d have staff in there within the hour. Normally not an issue though, you never cut through that way.

Sixty seconds. Where were you?

Ninety seconds. Where were you.

One hundred and eighty seconds. Where were you!

Vox’s chair fell over as he stood with a panic, hitting the speed dial for Security. As the phone was answered and he began to instruct them to the west entrance of the park, you emerged from the tree lined path and tossed your empty coffee cup and food bag into the recycling bins. You’d just slowed your walk to enjoy your breakfast with a pretty view.

“Nevermind, false alarm fellas.” A nervous chuckle as he pulled at his collar. “Sir we’re not all me-.”

He hung up and leaned on the control panel. He should have sent a text. In fact maybe he still should.

Good Morning sinners! Reminder—- you’re only safe when you’re under the watchful eye of VoxTek Security Cameras.

A mass push text to every VoxTek phone in pentagram city. He watched you look at your phone and then up to the camera pointed directly at you from a light pole. A satisfied hum, “Good girl.”

As his view switched to the VeeTower camera system he danced into the elevator.

Vox’s foot impatiently tapped, staring directly into the eyes of the VoxTek employee holding the toaster oven in his hands. The fishy looking demon was squirming as the heat bled into the metal casing and burned his palms.

“Oh! I didn’t know I paid you to arrive late!” Val’s voice carried across the set.

You gripped the handles of your tote bag, “Val I’m sorry! The bus got a flat tire and I had to walk.”

A hiss as Val leaned down to get eye level with you, “Sluts lie as easily as they open their legs.”

“No, Val.” Vox interjected, tone stronger than he had intended, “She’s telling the truth. It was on the local traffic report. Cut her some slack.”

“I don’t watch that shit.” A sigh, exhaling pink aphrodisiac laced smoke into the air between you three, “Fine. If amorcito says so.” Val smiled to Vox before sending a sneer back to you, “Now fuck off to the dressing room.”

He walked away to shout at someone else, so you took the opportunity to say, “Thank you.” You offered a little head bow, grateful for back-up in your lie. Vox had already been trying to sneak off the set when you started speaking to him, causing him to sheepishly spin around on his heels. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but I see you all over the place. You’re Vox, right?” You extended a hand.

His screen flickered, blue background now with a gradient pink starting from the bottom, a blush rising up his face, “I see my reputation precedes me.” A false bravado as he gestured to himself. He moved the croissant to his right hand so he could shake yours.

“Well… your name and face is on everything. So, yes! I guess so.” You shook his hand, “Oh, I had a croissant too.”

He beamed, “Ya know what they say, great minds and all that. I was just having a little breakfast after reading. I hear they have some on set today in craft services.” You perked up, looking to the food table and the man holding the toaster oven.

“My lucky day! If only they had iced coffee. It would be perfect.” With a polite smile you took a step away, “I gotta go or Val will kill me. Nice to meet you!”

Vox stood still until you were out of sight. His hand crushed the pastry before he launched it across the room, mumbling about coffee before looking back longingly in the direction you’d left in, “See ya later babe.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

[ventismacchiato]

16 behind the lens — chat going crazy !

scaramouche x g!n reader

˗ˏˋ scara point of view ´ˎ˗

“Welcome everyone,” Scara greeted as he pulled up the game lobby, and as usual, he was the only one ready, “Why are all these fuckers late?”

“Let’s all agree not to snitch on me this time,” he mutters, “Last time you guys snuck into Albedo’s chat and told him to vote for me,” he continues as he adjusts his camera. He’d put more effort into his outfit that day for a certain someone, causing him to start later than usual.

xingyunclouds donated $15

so tell us about this y/n?? 😏

A small smile crept onto his face at the mention of y/n, much to his dismay, which didn’t go unnoticed by the chat.

“Don’t embarrass me tonight. They said they’re watching this stream,” he grumbles, stifling his emotions as he busies himself with decorating his character, “Also, it’s none of your goddamn business.”

ventismacchiato donated $20

HE'S BLUSHING CAUGHT IN 4K

“Everyone here?” Tighnari calls out. They were all streaming from their respective rooms in the house.

“Guys, should I leave the cheese hat on or not?” Childe asks instead of answering, his voice in Scara’s ear as he ran around the lobby.

“Just start it,” Heizou says, and Scara could hear the smug grin on his face, “You guys are going to lose anyway.”

“Play nice, Heizou,” Kazuha reprimands as the game starts to load.

“You know he’s ruthless,” Star answers, and Scara gets a tight feeling in his stomach. It’s been a year since he’s heard Star’s voice properly, but instead of how it usually unsettled him it felt oddly familiar. Perhaps he was tired.

“Shut up,” Scara remarks, ridding himself of those thoughts.

“Make me,” Star easily responds, which makes Scara pause and everyone else crack up.

“The fuck,” he mutters, “Y/N isn’t going to like that.”

“Get ready to listen to them fight the entire game,” Venti sings.

“Everyone mute until voting,” Tighnari instructs as the game loads.

“I swear to the archons if I’m imposters with Childe again I’m killing myself,” Scara complains as he mutes himself from the main chat, knowing Childe would start defending himself if he heard Scara’s comment, “He’s always been shit at lying. One time he ate the cake I baked for Y/N and lied to me about it with frosting smeared on his cheeks.”

The screen on his computer loads and instantly his chat is flooded with laughter as he and Star’s characters appear under the screen as the imposters for that round.

frzenhans donated $420

THEY ARE NOT GONNA GET ANYTHING DONE LMAO

“I take it back, I’d rather have Childe,” he mutters, joining a private call with Star.

“Hey partner,” Star calls out, laughing in his ear. It tickled his nerves.

“Shut up,” he says on instinct, “Do not be the cause of my first loss.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Star chuckles as they load in, “Who should we kill first?”

Scara trails behind Venti in the game, “Wait until two of them are together so we can double kill,” he offers, pretending to do tasks beside the blue character.

“I think Heizou saw me vent,” Star confesses.

“It’s been two minutes why are you this dumb?” Scara sighs as a meeting is called as expected and they all join the main chat.

Much to his surprise, Star defends themself with ease.

“I’m pretty sure Heizou vented in front of me,” Star falsely accuses, “I can’t be for sure though but he got there pretty quickly when my back was turned.”

“YOU BITCH!” Heizou yells into the mic, “You know damn well—”

“Babe,” Kazuha hums, “Deep breaths.”

“The fucking audacity,” he continues, “You’re the one who vented right in front of me!”

“Let’s just end the meeting, Heizou is trying too hard,” Scara interrupts.

“If this happens again we should vote out Heizou,” Tighnari says as the game resumes.

“I hate you all,” Heizou huffs as they all go on mute once again.

“I’m going to kill Venti,” Star says in his ear.

“Why don’t we sabotage first and double kill?”

“But he’s literally right in front of me, I’ll let Heizou find the body,” Star adds.

“Alright,” Scara muses, tailing behind Heizou, “I’ll do tasks with him.”

He follows Heizou into the Medbay, where as expected, was Venti’s dead body.

They both join the main call and are immediately hit with accusations. None against them though.

“WHO KILLED MY VENTI,” Aether cried out.

“It can’t be Scara since he was with me,” Heizou thinks out loud, “Childe has been real silent.”

“That’s because I cannot figure out how to do shit in this game,” his best friend whines, “I would never kill Venti.”

“Can anyone back up Heizou’s location?” Star questions.

“He wasn’t with me, he’s lying,” Scara answers, his lie garnering a gasp from Heizou.

“I swear to the archons above if you guys believe him,” Heizou starts, getting riled up.

“I’m with Scara on this one,” Tighnari hums.

“No, don’t do this. Kazuha please,” Heizou wails, “You guys are making a mistake!”

“I’ll vote for Childe,” Kazuha softly laughs, not able to rid of his fondness for the other male even during a game.

“Simp,” Aether comments, “I’ll avenge you Venti.”

They all place their votes, and apart from Heizou and Kazuha, it’s unanimous.

Heizou gets voted out.

“Why did we slay that,” Star comments, their giggles ringing in his ear once the two of them are back into their private call. He shakes the light feeling that it fills him with. Absurd.

bongohat3r donated $2

not him gaslighting

“I’ll admit we worked well together,” Scara hums, distracting himself from having Star directly in his ear by walking around the game’s floor plan.

“Why can’t you just admit we make a good pair?” Star asks, taunting him and following behind him.

“We don’t,” he sighs.

“We would make a great pair!”

“Mute yourself I’m sick of your voice,” he grumbles.

“You’re in your denial stage.”

“Enough, Y/N is watching.”

“You talk about them often,” Star muses.

“Jealous of my love life?” Scara smirks as they pull off a sabotage.

“Nothing to be jealous of,” Star huffs.

“You’re not slick.”

“I just think me and you fit better.”

“Is that the hill you want to die on? Because I can make that happen.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Star retaliates as they both walk into a room with Aether and Childe in it. Aether doing his tasks and Childe attempting to.

Words go unsaid as they silently agree to go through with a double kill, easily slicing their friends. A discussion wasn’t needed to know they should self-report. They worked too well together, it made his stomach churn.

“I literally saw Kazuha go in for the kill,” Star says as soon as the call loads, “I’m betting it’s him.”

“How could you accuse me of such a thing?” Kazuha muses and Scara can hear the smirk on his lips, “It was obviously you.”

“Well, there were two bodies so it’s Kazuha and someone else,” Tighnari comments.

“Unless he killed one then let the cooldown run and killed the other after,” Star thinks aloud, “We all know Childe still doesn’t know how the game works.”

“See, now you’re thinking too highly of me,” Kazuha laughs, “I can’t pull that off.”

“You didn’t because we’re going to vote you off,” Scara replies.

“Guys,” Kazuha starts, and it’s like Scaramouche can hear his pout, “This isn’t fair!”

“Life isn’t fair,” Tighnari says as he puts his vote in.

The victory screen loads in and Star cheers in his ear.

“We did pretty well, didn’t we?” Star asks, eager for his approval.

“I guess we did, good job,” he muses, hoping Y/N stayed until the end to see him annihilate the others.

“Scara complimenting me?” Star sarcastically gasps, “A dream come true.”

“It’s more of a nightmare.”

“Are you insinuating you think of me while you sleep?” Star says, their voice in a low murmur in his ear. Scara finds himself swallowing and his cheeks growing warm.

“Stop being a perv,” he manages to croak out, joining the main call so he wouldn’t have to be stuck alone with Star for longer than he had to. He wasn’t flustered, just annoyed.

“I TOLD YOU GUYS,” Heizou shrieks as soon as everyone loads into the main voice call.

“I believed you,” Kazuha answers, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

“I’m so sorry, Venti,” Aether calls out, “I couldn’t avenge you bestie.”

“It’s alright, you served well,” Venti solemnly says.

“Can we go again I think I figured out the controls this time,” Childe ponders.

“I’m killing myself for getting duped by the duo who despise one another,” Tighnari sulks.

Scaramouche tunes them out as he gives his attention to his chat, which consists of them all complimenting his and Star’s skills. He tears his eyes away from it, calling back on all the out-of-character comments they made throughout the stream.

In response he opens up a new tab and pulls up Star’s stream, listening to how they were praising his skills. He hastily exits it.

“Let’s do another round,” Aether huffs, determined as a new game loads in.

Scaramouche exits his zoned-out state and gets back into his streamer personality, masking the incoming fleet of emotions.

He couldn’t help but steal a glance at his phone every now and then, expecting a certain someone to get his mind off everything.

No new notifications…

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

hope u guys liked the scara pov 🤭

ik u can have ten ppl in among us but i was too lazy to edit all that and realized too late so 🤷

lmk if u see urself in the twitch chat HAHA

zhangrenlin on ig as scara

guys my among us knowledge is limited it has been years so dont come for me if i got shit wrong

author’s notes — BRO THESE EDITS TOOK FOREVER YALL DONT EVEN KNOW I DID EVERYTHING FROM SCRATCH INCLUDING THE CHARACTERS SO PLS LOOK AT THEM 😇 was rlly fun tho i was looking forward to editing this chapter the most

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @heehooyeslol @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @i9tto @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @orbitscara @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos [1/3]

[layton-heritage-posts]

those six hours had me prepared to book a flight to germany so i could throw a computer at you in person

Context: This poor fucker had to help me hack my 2ds via discord. This process usually takes an hour at best. Mine took 6 hours. Here’s a little best of:

[catboybiologist]

Alright I can't finish this all in one sitting, but here's at least a bit of.... something? A word vomit? A prelude to smut about the eroticism of the machine? For all you robot, mecha, and spaceship fuckers out there. @k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl that means you

Pappy always said that manufacturing biological transportation was nothing knew. I mean, shit, humanity's been breeding horses for how long? To him, not much was novel about what was going on in the shipyards way out by Neptune when I was a kid.

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- something to interface with the hull, move the new titanium plates and particulates into place, have a living, growing mass interfacing with the steel so that the ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous interface with the hull full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, and integrating with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, and let them suffer and rot after disposal. So as far as the official record was concerned, they didn't have brains.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on a... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship. They were pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

But I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chasiss I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I approached Roseanna on the catwalk above her, marveling her alloyed scales. I could almost see her shudder in anticipation as my footsteps vibrated through the air above her. I took the steps down, and hit the trigger to open her top hatch.

When the news got out of the Navy scuffling with a rebelling mining station, an electric air raced across the station. Some went about their day as normal. Some resigned themselves to picking at the leftovers after the dust had settled. And some, like me, knew that they could get the finest pickings.

I strapped in to the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as the tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, that was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. But whatever reason that was, the best pilots were still the ones that knew both their ship, and the ship's brain. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers rooting them into the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on. ...?

"We got a scrap run."

^_^

:)

^_^

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and what Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

My hands gripped the steering. The hanger's airlock doors opened in front of me. My neck length hair started to float as the station's gravity shut off. I hit the switch to unlatch from the supports above. For a moment, we hang there. The dull crackle of the idling plasma burner is the only sound that resonates through Rosie's hull.

Go time.

I punch the boost.

[digenerate-trash]

Inner city freaks!!!!!

this is the last one I'll be doing for a while. peace.

Disclaimer Bailey has been heavily influenced by @ashersanity here's the Link they got to my man's first.

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Bailey 

Bailey is uncharacteristically needy when you guys are alone. It's strange how much he wants to touch and hold you. he's also very quiet when this happens and if you speak up, he will pinch you pull on your hair, or bite you to get you to shut up. 

he's really into making sure you're trapped with him at all times. He’ll pull you out of school if you've been avoiding him too much. 

he's installed a lock on the outside of your door. He uses it to keep you in at night and sometimes on days when he thinks you'll be up to no good. 

Cockwarming, constantly. If he calls you into his office it's to cockwarm him while he works. 

No other orphans get to come near you. Ever. he's broken Robin's wrist over this. 

Constantly objectifies you calling you “valuable” “precious” and “pet” 

Your debt is just to keep you in check and struggling at this point. he's stopped renting you out and instead keeps you captive on the weeks you can't pay.

Bailey swears he's not as bad as the rest of this stupid town but when the mood strikes him he's breaking into your room in the middle of the night to wake you up and fuck you. He usually gags you but a part of him wants the other orphans to hear you screaming and crying. He’ll leave bruises and worse if you struggle.

Even people who have offered to buy you out for outrageously high prices are turned down by Bailey always telling them that someone is paying double what they can afford. 

Bailey of course gets to the point where he can't even let you leave. He can't handle it anymore. People keep asking about you. People keep wanting to take you away. He eventually just snaps. Starts telling people you died. Rips down missing posters in hopes this whole town forgets you ever existed. Anyone who comes sniffing around is taken care of. And you stay with Bailey. In his cornered-off apartment in the orphanage. Just a couple of doors down from your old room. 

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Leighton 

Creep. Dudes a super creep and it only gets worse when his obsession rolls in. 

Huge corruption kink and if you start off innocent he just adores ruining you. 

he's not really subtle about how he feels either. You get detention twice as much. Your pictures fill up his computer files very fast. He even brings you to the brothel for dates and makes you sit on his lap while he gropes you. 

He gets his way through blackmail mostly. Man is not strong.

Forced fem looking as. No matter your gender he just loves you in girl clothes. He even likes to tear leggings/tights at the crotch for easy access. 

Is always feeling you up. can't keep his hands off of you. 

Will keep your panties/confiscated clothes separate from other students because they're just oh so precious to him. 

This man licks panties. All the time gets off on it. 

He will force you to have sex with another student and film it. Especially if neither of you are into it. he's a real freak about reluctant sex. 

Hell makes you blow him under his desk. But hell yank on your hair the whole time.

If you get the chance to blackmail him first he's not taking it. Instead, he's going to try and worm his way out of it. If he can't do that he's going to seethe. Dude is not comfortable with you having the upper hand

Piss kink. (can't explain it.) 

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Avery 

Also a forced fem fucker. Doesn’t matter your gender he's getting off on the idea that he has control over everything you do including how you address yourself when you're with him. 

Will use money to manipulate you. 

Constantly talks about marrying you??? Especially if you've been the ideal little socialite 

You boost his image at parties and he's a big fan of that. At first, he denies having feelings for you. he's just paying you after all it's all for show. Bet it gets harder and harder to let you climb out of his car and head back to the orphanage. 

He even offers to buy you outright from Bailey but Bailey knows you're more valuable if you keep getting Avery's money every week. 

Big on controlling you and who you talk to. Isolates you and takes up all your time on the weekends and even during your rides home. He purposefully keeps you for longer than necessary 

At High Rage Avery is a monster. Dude is constantly cornering you. Even when you break up with him he still shows up for your “dates” outside of the orphanage and tries to grab you. 

he's constantly trying to force you into his life even when you're being defiant. He will break your wrists/fingers to get his way. 

He knows he can't fight Bailey outright but his offers to buy you get more aggressive. 

When that doesn't work he withholds money from you even if you go on dates with him. He makes it harder for you to get regular work by trashing your reputation. He’ll make sure you have no one to rely on. And within a couple of weeks when you're desperate and broke. 

Avery will be there outside the orphanage. Ready to take you on a date. Just like always. 

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Quinn

Quinn has so many things wrong with him. 

You barely notice Quinn. he's not a big presence in your life until he wants you. 

Then suddenly you're the mayor's new intern. The pay is good and you don't have to whore yourself out so it's really a good gig. 

Baley hates your job but hell never tell you why. 

Quinn is pretty touchy. Likes to hold onto you tightly and show you off like a little pet. 

he's also big on making sure you work in his office with him. Even if you don't have any work to do. he's keeping you in the office with him. 

he's always very careful that the door is closed and music is playing while you both work. 

He stares a lot. Way too much to be healthy. You start to question whether he is actually getting any work done. 

He also makes sure that you have anything you want while you work with him. Coffee, breakfast. Anything you like he insists. 

it's only when you've been working for a couple of weeks that he finally asks you something that's a bit off. Personal questions. That makes you uneasy. 

He brings up that he knows Bailey charges you rent every week. And he says he can start to cover it if you just do him a couple extra favors on top of your regular work.

This quickly spirals into late-night ‘meetings’ where he ends up fucking you over his desk while the building is empty. 

he's careful not to leave marks. you're as clean and neat as you were when you walked in and he's so very careful as he pets your head before letting you leave. 

Over the next week, you get a promotion and a raise. You start working more late nights. 

[beesmygod]

i feel like if you were a west coast state in the 90s you had a serious chance of contracting california-itis and are now cursed to say "dude", "bro", "hella", "fat", "tight", "bruh", and other phrases usually reserved for when you ride a skateboard and wear your hat backwards to look extra cool. but instead of being that, you're a 33 year old keebler elf looking fucker who sits at a computer all day

[chaethewriter]

Jack Champion x gamer gf! reader

J. Champion with a gamer gf headcanons

a gym rat and gamer girl in love.

A/N: incredibly short and silly, because this was just on my mind.

◇ even before he had asked you if he could be your boyfriend, he knew about your gaming addiction— obsession.

◇ no matter where he saw you, your eyes were always set on a screen.

◇ whether that be on your PlayStation, computer or even the Nintendo Switch.

◇ he knew you liked gaming, but when you started dating, he truly got to meet gamer you.

◇ you stayed at his house often, it was almost your second home.

◇ the main reason being: the two of you were glued together.

◇ it doesn't matter what either of you were doing, as long as you did it together.

◇ moments when you sat somewhere with your phone being opened on Genshin, waiting at the gym while he was training.

◇ this also meant your stuff being in his bedroom.

◇ your Nintendo Switch for example.

◇ whenever the two of you were free from any work and college, you would be lying down on the bed, resting your head into his lap.

◇ you would be playing any form of tactical strategic game as he ran his fingers through your hair.

◇ he would watch the way your nose scrunched up as you glared at the screen to figure out how to ambush the enemy without getting your team killed.

◇ the movie he had put on the television long forgotten as he watched you in admiration.

◇ he would give commentary as he watched you, asking you things that he saw as he was genuinely interested in the stuff you like.

◇ "babe? What does that icon mean?"

◇ "do you get to dress up your main character?"

◇ "is there a reason why you put the arrow users behind the sword users?"

◇ he knows he might sound dumb, but he was genuinely wondering.

◇ you looked like you knew what you were doing, as if you put all of your energy into it.

◇ it was cute.

"Are you sure I can try? I mean I don't want to ruin your rounds-"

"Jack, babe, it's fine! I will help you." You were playing 'fire emblem three houses' on Jack's lap, but you couldn't help but feel a gaze burning into your skin. You had looked to the side, watching how he watched you with interest. You knew that look, he was curious, eager to try.

So you told him he could.

You were still in his lap, the Switch in his hands as yours were on top of his to guide him.

"What I always do is keep the bow user behind with the healer, before that I usually put mages, then axes and polearms and swords. I usually put cavalry on their own as they're pretty strong. Sometimes I leave them with healers, as they also have another weapon to use so that the cavalry isn't all alone."

He had no idea what you were saying and it was noticeable in the way he was playing.

Attacking a cavalry with a bow user, but he was getting there.

You couldn't tell him off, though. The way he was fully concentrating in the game with his chin resting against the top of your head.

◇ when the two of you were at your home, he would sit you on his lap as he watched you game.

◇ one of his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you in place, his other hand occupied by his phone.

◇ his phone was long forgotten though, as he watched you carry in your valorant match.

◇ you play without a headset when Jack is around so that he doesn't feel closed off or ignored.

◇ this is how he hears the toxicity of Valorant though.

◇ genuinely gets angry when you get insulted.

"Bro, why you assuming aimbot? Not my fault I can actually aim." You groaned into the mic as your fingers aggressively tapped on the WASD keys. You got into yet another toxic match and it was pissing you off.

"Make me a fucking sandwich, fucking bitch."

Now that made Jack furious. The grip on your waist got tighter as he cussed the other player out into the mic. He wouldn't let anyone get off the hook so easily, not when they degraded his girl.

"Who do you think you are, fucker? Treating women like trash? You're so fucking pathetic." His voice was hoarse as he spoke, venom laced into his words.

◇ worries when you play any game that involves communication via the mic after hearing what words are exchanged.

◇ call of duty, apex, valorant.

◇ any shooter games.

◇ he just worries that the words will get to you, but seeing how much you enjoy the game, as well as the way you knew how to reply to such comments he just knew you would be okay.

◇ that wouldn't stop him from being the overprotective boyfriend, though.

◇ eventually, Jack actually wanted to spend his time gaming with you as well.

◇ you were over the moon when he had told you that.

◇ your gym addicted boyfriend? Wanting to learn about the game world?

◇ you knew you had to start easy.

◇ something cute, interactive but romantic.

◇ minecraft.

◇ he knew about minecraft. He had played it a couple times with friends, but that was years ago.

◇ he had bought the game on his phone and you helped him with his own avatar!

◇ fun fact: the name of your shared world is actually your shipname.

◇ he hits all the flowers he can find for you.

◇ his entire inventory is filled with different kinds of flowers.

◇ follows you around like a lost puppy when the two of you go hunting.

◇ wants to be your knight in shining armor, but only has flowers to smack the zombies with.

◇ screamed when a creeper blew up not so far away from him.

◇ gets distracted by the most stupid things he can find.

"do we need this web?"

"rotten flesh? Should I take it?"

"this polar bear reminds me of you babe!"

"babe help! I lose you."

"can you come get me? I think I'm lost."

◇ he loves to spend his time building you guys' house and he acts like that's actually what your house will look like.

◇ "hmm, I actually want the dinner table to be here, since you like sitting down and facing that way, right"

◇ you told him it's just a game, but he wants it to be as accurate as possible.

◇ he squealed when you tamed a cat and called it Butters.

◇ he spends time fixing cute dates in minecraft while you're busy with college: picnics, mini zoos— since he knows you're more of an indoor person.

◇ you thank him with a lot of irl kisses.

◇ all over all, he's trying for you and he enjoys spending time with you, no matter what. <3

◇ BONUS

◇ he is so jealous whenever he catches you playing gacha games.

◇ why? He always catches you drooling at some hot animated characters.

◇ sits far away frowning, arms crossed as he watches you giggling at your phone.

"Babe! I'm the real deal! He doesn't exist!"

◇ he just wants attention, pls tell him you love him. <3

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

first i just wanna say i love whenever you post I’ve literally turned on post notifs now ‼️🫶🏾

my request is just like a scenario or HC’s of if auron were ever to get jealous teehee

Jealous Auron.

First off he doesn't get jealous he gets even - Auron glaring at a man that was flirting with Rook in front of him.

He'll act indifferent to the person stealing rook's attention bc as YB said before he KNOWS Rook would never.

But still doesn't mean he can show off a bit like giving Rook presents using an anonymous name, giving them their collar they love wearing (since it went with everything), and more.

Also it helped the Rook ignored the person trying to flirt with them.

He was chuckling when he saw Rook cut their conversation short to go and talk with him.

But in all he knows that they'll come back to them, let anyone dare try and take them away from him. See how you'll end up with blood spilling and getting your dirty laundry aired by him.

Auron also claims that he doesn't get jealous he gets even.

Scenario:

Auron was starting to get annoyed by this meeting he was in, that new guy, James was pissing him off. He knows Rook is a really beautiful person but if this fucker keeps looking he's going to-

"Auron? Sir. Your input on this?" Turning his head Auron gave a smile, Rook was looking in his eyes. Confused on why he was acting such a way in a meeting nonetheless.

"Amazingly put together as usual Rook, go ahead and go with the plan. Sadly I need to contact someone at the moment, excuse me everyone." Everyone felt nervous seeing him getting up and leaving, Rook sighed as they knew he was mad at someone. Doesn't help that someone keeps looking at them with confusion.

"okay, we got the approval John, Derrida, and Angela please start your part." The three nodded and left the meeting room, Rook continued to give everyone a task or role to play in the movement of the new project. James, had the role of writing everyone's progress on their part of the project and helping if needed for someones part.

After finally getting the blonde out of their hair Rook started to walk to Auron's office. He was probably brooding and working on some emails that he decided to finally work on. Trish nodded to them as soon as she saw them, shooting the older woman a smile they walked through those big doors.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Saying as they walked to his desk not waiting for an answer and sitting on it looking at him. A sigh was their response as he placed his pen down from writing whatever he was.

"Hm, that would be good." So they did talk about; James, the new project, their relationship and how Rook won't ever leave him because they chose him. Only him, no one else. Auron knew he really shouldn't be jealous but he did know he has a lot of baggage in this relationship.

"Auron." Turning his head to look at Rook he felt a small kiss be placed on his forehead. "Your cute when your jealous." Giggling filed the room and Auron sighed again.

"Wow, bullying me when I want comfort. What a lucky man I am." Sarcasm was dripping on his words and Rook just ignored that. Peppering kisses all over his face and Auron liked the attention, then he had to stop them. "As much as I love the attention you give to me so easily. You need to go check up n your team." An eye rol and sighing was his answer as Rook got off his desk.

"Okay....One more before I go though!" Leaning down Rook pecked his lips and walked back to the door. Auron smiled lightly then looked back at the computer and papers he was working on.

[smolbonbon]

I will take care of you

Solar/Moon fanfiction

The prequel from Whether you like it or not you're stuck with me.

Compared to the Sequel this is a cozy fanfiction with shenanigans.

I hope you enjoy it <3

On the same night, Ruin was saved from the prison. Moon's steps echoed through the lobby while he was heading to parts and service. He wanted to see if he could track Eclipse's magic in a way before he called it a night. Eclipse always had a way to distract them.

Moon had to focus on so many things at the same time. Moon didn't know where to start and who to trust aside from Solar and Sun. Sure, he trusted Earth and Lunar but the last thing he wanted was to scare his smaller brother. Moon knew how easily Lunar gets locked up when it comes to Eclipse. And Earth didn't need to be more involved in their problems than she already was.

Then there is Ruin, the crescent Lunar animatronic doesn't know what to think of them. Solar and he were quite confident about the fact that they could have been behind in making Eclipse. It's weird, Solar got knocked out and the footage of it was just gone. Ruin was the only one who was near him. But then again, there is no reason he could think of why they would do this. Maybe it was when Ruin was still infected?

Moon sighed as he moved his hands to his face. "One at a time, Moon." He muttered to himself. He can't start to spiral when he has to keep track of so many things. Moon focused on his to-do list and saw Solar send him the details of coding that he needed for the bodyguard. Well, that's for later.

Solar and he parted the tasks, the dusk animatronic mostly doing the mechanic details and Moon focused on doing the coding part. Solar is capable of programming but it's not his strongest suit. Also, it feels unfair to him if Solar does all the work.

Moon opened the door to the entrance from Parts and Service and sat down to start the computer.

Even if he's more than willing to do so. This fucker is a work alcoholic and if nobody stopped him, then Solar would work himself to the bone.

The blue crescent animatronic didn't know what he would have done if it wasn't for Solar's help. He had done so much for them even if he never had to.

A soft smile appeared on his face but before other thoughts came to his mind he shook his head and sighed. No time for that, the blue animatronic thought to himself. He stretched before he got up from the weird computer.

Parts and service were not his favorite place. It was cold, the room was always bad lighted and it gave him a weird gut feeling. Speaking of the cold, it was more chilly down here than usual.

He walked over to the locker and pulled out his key. Moon kept his tools in the locker since anyone could come down here and just snatch his stuff. As he opened the locker, he took an old keyboard out of it and went back to the weird computer. There was no way he would start looking for Eclipse with the three-button keyboard.

If you could even call that a keyboard. Moon looked at the time and it was 11 p.m. Maybe he would work until 3 a.m. and then call it a night.

Moon groaned as he walked to the daycare. He found nothing! No hints, nothing the computer could pick up, how is that possible? Eclipse didn't seem like himself, he was more clumsy and confused. The crescent Lunar animatronic didn't believe Eclipse was focused enough to not make any mistakes.

Moon opened the door and watched Solar drinking his coffee.

"Hi, Solar." The crescent Lunar animatronic mumbled and Solar raised his brow as he faced Moon. "Well, you sound happy." He sarcastically vocalized "No luck?" Solar questioned while setting his mug down.

"Nope, nothing." Moon sighed and let himself fall into the chair next to his companion.

Solar was about to say something but got interrupted by squeaks from the chair. Solar saw Moon spinning in his chair.

Solar watched him amused and waited for him patiently to spin it out from his system.

"Having fun there?" The dusk animatronic asked while the chair kept squeaking until Moon stopped.

"Sorry, I'm listening now." Moon said while getting comfortable in the chair. "You're good I think you needed this." Solar rasped out and the Lunar crescent animatronic watched his mug.

"I wanted to make myself a coffee." Moon mumbled. "Well, then go make yourself coffee." Solar suggested and Moon leaned lazily back in the chair. "Nah I'm too lazy."

The dusk animatronic thought for a moment and then handed his mug to him. "You can have the rest." Solar told him and Moon took it. "Are you sure?" Solar shrugged and grinned. "I had more than enough and besides If I drink more I might run around like Lunar when he had sundrops."

Moon cringed at the memory and then drank his coffee. It certainly wasn't the first time Solar and Moon shared a mug. There were times when Moon accidentally grabbed Solar's mug instead of his own while working. But it didn't bother them.

Their bond grew strong, especially after Moon and Solar worked on the satellite together. The things they went through together in a month were unspeakable. Side quests the celestial animatronics had to do for British Monty so they worked along which resulted in Solar tackling Moon so he didn't attack the British gator.

The amount of times they end up falling asleep on each other while they took a break from working. But that never changed, Lunar and Sun could prove it with the pictures they took for blackmailing.

Moon tasted the sweetness and licked his lips, he remembered how much of a sweet tooth Solar was. Which was ironic who would have guessed a grumpy animatronic like him was actually a sweet tooth? The blue crescent animatronic also liked the sweetness but not as much as Solar did. "Thanks, Solar." Moon rasped out.

Solar shrugged again. "I don't mind." The Solar bot spoke out.

"Anyways the computer was not able to find anything, don't you think that's weird? Eclipse was completely out of it even Ruin thinks so." Moon mused as he continued. "How is he able to hide his magical signature so well?"

The Solar bot thought about it. "Maybe it's Eclipse's creator who is hiding all the evidence?"

Moon moved his hand over his face while letting out a groan of frustration. "That could be it." He mumbled. "We still have zero process of who made Eclipse."

Solar leaned his hand on his shoulder and the crescent animatronic gazed at him. "How about we focus on our other project and come back to Eclipse's creator later?" Solar suggested. "Yeah, you're right. We should make sure Lunar is safe." Moon replied.

It was around 4:30 a.m. when they finally decided to stop. Both of them could barely keep their eyes open, they didn't want to mess something up and possibly destroy their process.

Moon headed to the theater. He saw Sun was cuddled up in a pile of pillows with his cats sleeping right next to him.

Moom yawned as he pulled the donut-looking pillow to a dark spot and a blanket. If he just laid on the ground again then Earth would scold him. He cringed at the memory when Earth found him lying faceplant on the ground. She sure gave him a fifteen-minute lecture on why it's bad for your back to sleep on the ground. Let's not forget about how Sun started to continue lecturing him about how many germs there were on the ground. Sun literally forced him to watch a documentary of germs.

Moon woke up his head was buzzing, and his wires felt all twisted and messed up. His fans were on full blast like he was overheating and yet he was shivering like a leaf.

Moon groaned and pulled himself up but he had to take a second before getting up, everything was spinning.

Oh boy, he probably caught something. Moon groaned and laid back on the donut thing as he pulled the blanket over his face. His joints hurt and felt like they were locked up. The crescent Lunar animatronic knew he wouldn't be able to work if he felt like this.

His vision was blurry and for some reason, he felt very anxious. But there was no reason to be, it wasn't the first time he caught a virus or something.

"Hey, computer, what time is it?" The grumpy Lunar bot asked. "It is currently 12:40 p.m., Moon."

Moon sighed, the theater would open soon and the last thing he wanted was to interact with Karen's. Also, Solar send him a message to come to the daycare.

So he made his way slowly to the daycare, there was a ringing in his ear and the light made his eyes hurt. Solar was already glued to the computer as he opened the doors.

The room was filled with kids and they were running around and screaming, like usual. Lunar was having a tea party with the other kids while Earth was comforting a child and Sun was preparing for snack time.

Solar drank his coffee as he tipped something on the keyboard. "Hey, Moon." The Solar bot spoke.

"How are you doing?" Solar asked while watching him. Moon sat down on the chair next to him and squinted over to Solar.

"Actually I'm not feeling good. I think I caught something." Moon rasped out.

"Yeah, you really don't look good." Solar said bluntly and Moon grumbled "Thanks, Solar."

Solar grabbed another mug and handed it to him. "So does Ruin."

"Geez Solar why so rude today?" Moon replied drowsily. "Huh? Wha- no that's not what I meant. He's also sick."

Moon took the mug and looked into it and tried not to grimace. Coffee was the last thing he wanted to drink. "It's tea, it should make you feel a bit better." Solar replied as if he could read Moon's mind.

"Thanks, Solar." Moon shivered as he drank a bit. "So Ruin is also sick?" Solar nodded. "They woke me up earlier and asked if I could do a diagnostic check on them."

Moon leaned in the chair as he listened. "Don't you think it's a bit weird that you both got sick right after our rescue?" Solar asked and Moon thought about it.

It was weird, maybe there was something in that prison that made them sick? "What do you have in mind, Solar?" Moon tilted his head as he asked.

"Well since I didn't get sick, despite being right beside you. I believe the barrier which kept Ruin in there was infected with some malware." Solar stated.

"I think you're right. " Moon spoke while placing the mug down and Solar shrugged

"So you believe the barrier infected us through the electric shock?" Solar nodded.

"Where is he anyway?" Moon questioned while looking around. "They're in the room beside mine, on the couch." Solar replied.

Moon coughed as he shivered and the dusk animatronic looked at him quite concerned. "You know you kinda look worse than they do." Moon deadpanned him. "Yea, you don't say, Solar." He mumbled.

"Moon, you know I don't mean it like that." Solar spoke amused as he pulled a blanket out from the drawer.

His frown turned to a grin. "Yeah, yeah I know." Solar stood up and wrapped a blanket around his shoulder. Solar moved his hand to his forehead.

"Computer can you do a diagnostic on Moon?"

Moon coughed into his elbow as Solar stood in front of him. The computer scanned him and then stated: "His temperature rose to 39,6°C"

Solar smiled fell and started to think.

"I recommend taking off his coat and pullover, so his fans on his back can work better." Spinard continued.

"I prefer not to take off my clothes here though." Moon mumbled and Solar looked at him. "Why? You used to walk around shirtless all the time."

Before Moon could answer him they heard Sun walking towards them. The bright animatronic could tell immediately Moon didn't feel well.

"Hey Moon are you okay?" The crescent Lunar animatronic nodded. "Hi Sun, yeah I'm okay, just caught a virus." Sun took a huge step back and distanced himself from them.

"Wuss." Moon verbalised and Sun pouted. "Hey, I have to take care of kids, I can't get sick. You know how many kids we get and I can't leave Lunad and Earth alone!" He did have a point but Moon just shrugged.

"Don't worry, brother I'll get out your rays in a minute." Moon uttered as another shiver struck his body. Sun smiled softly. "If you need something I can make Lunar get it."

"Thanks, Sun." Moon replied drowsily. "I'll look after him." The dusk animatronic spoke and Sun tilted his head. "That good I honestly was worried to leave him alone."

"Sun you don't have to worry about me" Moon mumbled and Sun's smile twitched. "Sure brother. " Sun spoke and before the crescent Lunar animatronic could ask him what he meant, they watched the bright animatronic turn around as he announced to the kids. "It's snack time!" They watched the kids running to the table and sat down enthusiastically.

"I guess I'm heading to the Parts and service." Moon mumbled, he felt the same anxiety as when he woke up. The thought of being alone made him nervous. Solar tilted his head. "Parts and service? How about we go to my room?" Solar recommended. "Like I said before I'll take care of you."

"I thought you meant checking up on me. Don't you want to keep working?" Solar shrugged. "I can work later. I wanna make sure you're doing okay." He spoke softly and Moon felt his cheeks lighten up. He looked to the side and hoped Solar didn't see his red face.

Solar moved to the door Moon followed but his head was spinning and his vision blurred. There was a loud ringing in his ear again and he then realized his vision was turning black. Moon grabbed on the chair and called out for Solar.

He couldn't hear anything but the ringing. Solar turned around to Moon's call, he saw him fainting, and before he hit the ground Solar animatronic caught him.

"Moon?!" Solar spoke alarmed, Moon's body fell limp against the dusk animatronic. He started to shake Moon and slapped his face softly. Solar realized he was shutting down since his fans were going quiet "Computer! Diagnostic Moon right now."

Solar picked Moon up as the computer stated. "His temperature has risen to 40,3°C. Solar you have to cool him down immediately."

Earth jogged towards Solar since she saw Moon fainting. "Solar? What happened?"

"Moon fainted, he has a high fever and I'm bringing him to my room. Send someone with icepacks." Solar rushed explaining while opening the door after Earth nodded he sprinted out of the daycare.

"My gut feeling was right to not leave you alone." He mumbled grumpy while running to his room. As he opened the door Ruin was sitting on the couch and looked at Solar a bit startled.

"Hi Solar-" Solar climbed through the tunnel with Moon. "Not now, Ruin. Moon passed out."

Solar felt his fans blasting and tried to stay calm as he took off Moon's coat and pullover.

The panicked bot pressed the button on Moon's chest to open his chestplate, Solar grabbed cables from the Arcade machine which is a working computer and plugged them into his chest.

Soon after Lunar climbed through the tunnel and brought icepacks. "I'm here, Solar!" The smaller jester yelped. "Okay do me a favor and put them on his forehead." Lunar nodded as he climbed quickly up on Solar's bed and leaned it on Moon's forehead.

Solar pulled Moon's pants up where his ankles were. "What are you doing, Solar? Is he going to be okay?" Lunar asked concerned. "He is going to be fine if I do this right. I'm freeing all his fans so he can cool down."

"I connected him to the computer so I can see better what is going on and it alerts me right away if something changes." Solar continued explaining.

Lunar nodded as he held the ice packet on his forehead. Solar glanced over to the monitor and then looked back to Moon.

"Computer can you do another diagnostic on him?" The arcade machine made a noise as the computer scanned him. "His temperature is going down his current temperature is 39,8°C. He should shortly turn back on."

Solar sighed relieved as he sat down next to Moon. Ruin then climbed through the tunnel as well and fidgeted with their hands. "Solar? What is happening to our companion?"

"He also got infected with the same virus but for some reason, he caught it way worse than you." Solar stopped for a moment and then turned to the computer. "Hey, Spinard can you do another diagnostic on Ruin?"

"Yes, of course, Solar. Ruin is currently okay, his temperature is still at 38°C but his fans aren't overheating." Solar let another relieved sigh out and leaned back to the wall.

"Well, that's rather weird." Ruin spoke. "I honestly thought you would have it worse since your body was fixed recently," Solar said thoughtfully.

"What does it have to do with that, Solar?" Ruin questioned out confused and tilted his head. "Well your body got fixed recently and your firewall could be distracted by that." Solar tried to explain but when a quiet click was heard, Lunar kicked him in the back.

Solar flinched and turned around to him grumpy. "Lunar-" The smaller bot smiled innocently. "I can hear his fans turning on," Lunar told them.

"He is actually rebooting." Spinard affirmed and Lunar shrugged. "The same thing."

The celestial animatronics waited for him to wake up but nothing happened after a while they could hear Moon snore. Lunar sighed and slapped him. "Wake up!" Moon groaned. "What the, what happened?" Moon rasped out. "You passed out because of overheating. How do you feel?" Solar questions concerned.

Moon pulled himself up and Lunar took the ice packet from his forehead. "I still feel like shit but not as bad as before," Moon mumbled and looked down. "Why am I shirtless?"

"Your fans were suffocating." Solar vocalized and Ruin side eyes the wall. Moon trembled and rubbed his arms. "Am I really overheating if I'm freezing?" Solar grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Moon's shoulders. "Yeah, it's normal."

Lunar looked worried up at Moon. "Are you going to be okay?" He asked and Moon glanced down to his younger brother. Moon smiled softly at him. "I will be all right, thank you for your help."

Lunar shrugged "It's whatever. Please stay here you scared us." Moon leaned back on the wall. "Oh, I'll definitely. I'm not going anywhere. I prefer not to pass out again."

The computer cleared out its non-existent throat to get their attention. "Solar, I have found out why Moon overheats so quickly."

The dusk animatronic gazed to the arcade machine.

"It seems like Moon didn't clean his fans in a long while and they're not working completely anymore."

Solar turned slowly his head back to Moon and the dark crescent animatronic suddenly felt like he was in danger.

Moon let out a nervous chuckle and looked at the three animatronics staring at him. "Oh boy." Ruin spoke while dramatically covering his mouth.

"Moon.." Solar scowled and before he could say something Lunar pushed a pillow directly on his face.

Ruin fidgeted with their hands as they watched the interaction. He yelped as Lunar suffocated his older brother with the pillow. "Before you overheat I'll strangle you!" Lunar hissed.

"Lunar!" Moon muffled while he tried to pull the pillow away from his face.

Solar picked up the smaller animatronic and pulled him away from Moon. "Lunar you gonna make him faint." Solar muttered and he blew raspberries at them. "Rightfully deserved." Lunar mumbled.

Moon sighed annoyed by his younger brother's shenanigans but he had a point. There was a ping and Lunar checked his messages. "Let go of me, Solar." The dusk animatronic let the small animatronic down.

Lunar brushed his clothes straight and crossed his arms.

"Earth and Sun are worried and it's about naptime so I'll go and help them." He said unamused while looking directly at Moon. "You better sleep with an open eye if you don't clean your stupid fans."

Moon put his hand to his chest. "I promise I'll clean them." Lunar squinted at him and pointed his finger at him dramatically. "You better clean them before the others come up here." Then the small animatronic turned around and left.

Solar looked at Moon pissed and the British animatronic glanced between them amused.

"Okay, I get it! I will clean them up." Moon defensively spoke while fighting a smile. "You better."

The dark crescent animatronic moved around and remembered that his chest plate was still open. Moon cringed at the feeling.

"Do you still need the cable plugged in?" He asked while covering his chest with the blanket. The situation made him feel exposed.

Solar thought about it, he was still worried that it might backfire. The fact his body overheated and he was unconscious for a few minutes worries him. "Hey, Spinard can you alert me if his body temperature rises or if there are other problems?"

"Of course, I shall alert you if there are any concerns." The computer agreed. "Thanks."

Solar moved his hands to Moon's chest, the dark lunar animatronic felt his face heaten and then Moon glanced over to Ruin. He realized they had been watching them the whole time. Ugh, he hoped Ruin didn't notice his bright faceplate. Solar pulled out the cables and Moon sighed while closing his chest plate.

"Are you just gonna stand there or will you sit down next to us?" Solar asked while looking over to the smaller jester.

"O-Oh, no, no I'm fine. I'll rest my eyes on the couch over there." They clumsily pointed to the yellow couch in the balcony room. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm sure. It was entertaining to watch but um.. you see the sickness makes me feel very woozy so I'll take a small nap!" Ruin fumbled with his words and smiled.

"Whatever suits you." Solar shrugged. "But you two have a wonderful afternoon. Ta ta." The silly jester hummed as they climbed out through the tunnel.

Moon and Solar glanced at each other.

"Entertaining to watch, huh?" Moon repeated and Solar huffed.

"Well, we deal daily with a lot of shit. I guess from an outside view it's very entertaining." Solar grumpy mumbled.

Moon groaned and leaned back as he cuddled into the blanket. Solar sat down next to him and watched him.

"Solar aren't you worried you will get sick as well?" Moon questioned, the dusk animatronic thought about it and then shrugged. "If I get sick then so be it."

"Besides I have to make sure you don't get strangled by Lunar." Solar teased, Moon rolled his eyes and smiled softly.

When Solar moved his arm back to the wall, his hand accidentally touched Moon's hand but neither moved their hand away. The dark crescent animatronic felt his faceplate brighten up, usually he didn't mind Solar's touch but for some reason it felt more.. welcoming?

Moon drew circles in his hand while looking to the side.

Moon felt like butterflies were stuck in his wires, it was not unpleasant, far from it. The dark crescent animatronic knew he had been feeling like this a while around Solar.

He remembered when Monty asked him if he was still AroAce but Moon didn't know.

Is this what romantic love feels like? Is it just a crush? Do Aromantic people experience crushes? Aside from gray and demiromantic people. Does he like him in a queerplatonic way? Maybe he's demiromantic, he the feelings didn't instantly start more after their bond grew.

Solar grabbed his hand and the dark crescent animatronic let out a strangled noise. Then both of them hear a loud whirr. Moon pulled his hat down with his other hand, how dare his body work against him?

Solar turned his head to the glowing animatronic, he immediately let go of Moon's hand and cleared his non-existent throat.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that." Solar spoke nervously.

"No, you're fine. Just startled that's all." Solar watched him. "I don't mind." The dark crescent animatronic mumbled and Solar smiled.

There was a moment of silence.

"But we should really clean your fans." Solar mused. "Now?" Moon asked.

The dusk animatronic shrugged. "I prefer if we do it now before your cables melt." Moon grunted embarrassed and crossed his arms. "Alright, we will do it now."

Moon felt the weight of the matress lift and he watched Solar getting his tools. He didn't realize he was staring at him until the dusk animatronic spoke. "So with which one do you want to start? We got one on your back and then on your ankles.

"I guess we can start with my ankles." Moon grumpy mumbled and Solar grinned at him. "Oh c'mon Moon, I'll be quick."

"Just let me do it myself." Moon groaned and covered his face. The dusk animatronic shook his head. "Not gonna happen I have the feeling that your vision is blurred."

Moon raised his brow. "How did you know?" Solar laid his tools on the desk and went towards the grumpy animatronic. "Moon, you're squinting a lot. It's not hard to tell."

Solar helped him to get up and walked to the desk. Moon sat down on the desk and sighed.

"Besides it's better if we do it now before Lunar comes back and strangles you." Solar teased and he rolled his eyes.

"So you wanna do this while being asleep or awake?" Solar asked and Moon thought about it. The thought of being shut down made him shiver but not because he doesn't trust Solar. Far from it, Moon trusted his friend with all his heart.

Heck, Solar could even do experiences on him and Moon would trust him completely. The blue crescent animatronic knew Solar was more than capable of taking projects in hand and making the right decision. Moon fought the urge to smile and shook his head.

"What does that mean?" Solar questioned confused. Moon perked up and realized he didn't really answer his question. "I want to stay awake."

The motives was due to his memory loss. Moon still feared to shut down only to wake up with no memories. Many accidents happen while being fixed and that gave him more anxiety.

Solar pulled the cables from the Arcade machine and cleared his throat. "So if you stay awake I'll have to connect you to the computer again."

Moon groaned and opend his chestplate. "Because you have to turn off the fan which you are working on." Moon spoke annoyed and Solar nodded.

After the dusk animatronic connected him to the computer and he tipped something until there was a beep sound. Moon felt his fans on his left ankle turn off, Solar then grabbed the screwdriver and pulled his pants up. He unscrewed the vents and gently pulled it out.

Dust instantly met Solar and he coughed. "Geez Moon when was the last time you cleaned it?" Moon didn't response his question. Solar raised his brow while glancing up to him. "Maybe a few months ago?" Moon mumbled and Solar frowned.

"No wonder you passed out." Solar scowled and Moon chuckled nervously while fidgeting with his hat. "I clean mine at least twice a month." Solar continued.

Moon let out a little: "Oh."

The dusk animatronic shook his head and started to clean out his fans. Both of them didn't say anything and the noises from the daycare of kids screaming and talking filled the silence.

"Doesn't it get annoying to work in here when the children are screaming?" Moon wondered out loud and Solar hummed. "It does but I have this function installed. Basically like noise cancelling headphones, so I can easily blend it out."

Moon glanced amazed to Solar, this animatronic has numerous smart ideas. "That's really clever, Solar." Solar shrugged and looked to the side. "Not really. I just got inspired when I saw a kid walking around with headphones."

Moon raised his brow and clung onto the blankets. "So? You still managed to build it."

Solar felt his faceplate heaten up. "I guess I did." He smiled softly while trying to focus on cleaning the vents.

After Solar cleaned the last vent on Moon's back, he got awfully quiet. The blue crescent animatronic was sitting backwards on the chair so it gave Solar easier access to his back.

Solar stopped and moved to the lunar animatronic. He noticed Moon's eyes were closed and his head was resting on the cushion from the chair.

"Hey Spinard, is Moon okay?" Solar whispered. "He is fine, Solar. Moon is currently sleeping." The Solar bot let out a relieved sigh.

"If there was a problem I would already have told you, Solar." The computer spoke out sassy.

When Solar was finally finished with cleaning he picked Moon gently up and moved towards the bed. The blue crescent animatronic clung onto Solar while he tried to lay him down.

The Solar bot let out an amused chuckle. "Moon.. let go off me." As he glanced to Moon he was looking direct at the dusk animatronic. "Join me?" Moon asked carefully and Solar raised a brow. "Are you sure?" He questioned while feeling his cheek lighten up and Moon only smiled at him with half lidded eyes. "If you don't mind?"

Solar felt flustered and let out an amused huff. "I don't mind."

The dusk animatronic moved in the bed and wrapped the blanket around them. He felt Moon arms wrapping around his back and Solar hesitantly hugged him while leaning his chin on his head.

"You're really great you know that, right?" Moon mumbled and Solar smiled fondly. "Moon, just go to sleep." He muttered light-heartedly.

The dark crescent animatronic didn't take long to nod off and Solar followed soon after.

__________________________________

Sun and Earth checked up on Moon.

Earth: "Aww look they're cuddling again!"

"They sure are."

Sun chuckled as he took pictures for blackmailing and Lunar followed them.

Lunar: "Ew cooties."