#sorry this show continues to render me incoherent forever and ever

[lewis-winters]

There’s something about the fact that Fitzjames asks for the crew to use his body for food and Crozier deciding to deny him and bury him instead, vs. Goodsir poisoning and killing himself to poison the mutineers that he knows will eat him whether he wanted them to or not… Idk what it is exactly but it feels like a heck of parallel

hhhhmmmm something something the different shades of salvation hnnngghhhh something something is it salvation or is it rot hhhuurrrgghhhgglleeee something something james fitzjames was poisoned too and the mutineers are implied to have eaten him despite crozier's efforts anyway did he help bring salvation through death too aaaaaaaAAAAHHHHH something something did they BOTH bring about salvation, in the end??? in their own way? huh???? DID THEY?????

[nightshade-minho]

-Sleep? What’s that?-

Warnings: unprotected sex, degradation, master kink, praise, breeding kink, mentions of cheating, light exhibitionism, roommates au. jisung makes an appearance.

Word Count: 1.7k

Seungmin couldn't take one more second of this torture.

This was the fourth consecutive night where he lay awake, your moans gracing his ears and leaving him with blue balls.

It wasn't like you were being very loud...the walls were a little too thin in this apartment ever since he'd moved in. Even his headphones couldn't quite mask the sound of your moans right. He tossed and turned in bed, the fact that this was going to be yet another sleepless night making him grumble in frustration.

Usually, after you masturbated, you'd turn right around and go to sleep. However, a room away, Seungmin found it terribly difficult to fall asleep...the raging boner he was usually left with made sure of that. In the mornings, he'd always consider bringing it up...he prided himself in his straightforwardness, but somehow when it came to you, all that was thrown out of the window.

It didn't help that you looked especially cute in the mornings...all messy hair and blushy cheeks, clad in your soft pyjamas and bunny slippers.

He sighed, covering his ears. At that very moment, you let out a whimper that sounded so heavenly, that Seungmin just couldn't take it anymore.

He threw the covers off, standing up and walking over to your room quickly.

He threw the door open. You screamed as you scrambled to cover yourself with the blankets, pulling your fingers out of your pussy.

"Seungmin, what the fu-"

"Shhh." He said irritably. "It's 2:30. Let's not wake all the neighbours up."

You sputtered in disbelief, clearing your throat. "I...um, please don't barge into my room like that...you woke me up so suddenl-"

"Cut the bullshit. I know what you're doing in here, Y/n. In fact, I've known for the past four days. Either stop, or choose another time to do it. One that doesn't prevent me from getting my valuable hours of sleep."

"I..." your cheeks heated up, as you adjusted the covers. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. You're like a 13 year old girl who discovered how to touch herself for the first time. It's all you've been doing."

You felt the embarrassment heat up your cheeks as you finally looked up at him.

Wait.

Your eyes landed on the bulge in his sweatpants, making you let out a loud gasp. Was that a boner?

Seungmin flinched at the sound, following your gaze to his pants. He rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic about it. When you're forced to be exposed to someone's moans for hours on end, this is what happens."

You rubbed at your flushed cheeks, unable to believe that this was actually happening.

Somehow, though...the embarrassment and humiliation you were feeling was slowly drifting into arousal as he continued glaring at you. You opened your mouth and then closed it, wondering if you should just say it.

"What? Spit it out."

You remained silent. Slowly you moved the blankets off of you, Seungmin raising an eyebrow as you did so.

"Wow. You've gotten bold."

His eyes slowly travelled from your face to your soaking pussy, bared to him. Unable to hide the small groan under his breath, Seungmin decided to throw all caution to the wind as he climbed onto the bed.

"What do you want, hm, princess? Don't you think this is a little too slutty, even for you?" He chuckled. As another second of silence passed, Seungmin's smile slowly disappeared.

"I can't read your mind, slut. Speak up, or I'll make sure you regret it."

Your eyes widened. "Um, I'm sorry. I...I want you."

"You do, huh? How exactly do you want me?"

"In any way. Please, I just feel so sexually frustrated and I haven't had a good orgasm in months." You whine, pouting at him.

"Fine. All you want is an orgasm, right? I'll help you get yourself off. Acting like a fucking bitch in heat." He mumbled under his breath, moving further up your bed before grabbing you, pulling you onto his lap.

You looked down at him, the arousal making your whole body feel hot. You couldn't believe you were going to fuck your roommate. It felt a little wrong, but to be honest, you didn't really care.

His eyes slowly travelled from your face to your pussy, narrowing as he felt your wetness soak through the material of his sweatpants.

"Fuck, you're a little whore, aren't you?"

You sighed softly as he grabbed your hips, forcing you to grind down on him. He groaned under his breath at the feeling, lifting you up slightly to pull down his sweatpants.

You gulped as you noticed he wasn't wearing any underwear, letting out a small squeal as he pulled you down, letting the head of his cock brush up against your folds.

"We don't even need any foreplay, do we? That little wet cunt is dripping and ready for my cock~"

You nodded desperately, swallowing as he smirked, his grip on your waist becoming rougher as he slammed you down onto him suddenly, a guttural moan escaping you at the action.

The sudden intrusion rendered you speechless as you gripped his shoulders, your eyes clenching shut. His gaze softened a little as he observed your expression.

"Aww, looks like the little baby isn't used to being stuffed with cock like this? That's okay, darling." His grip on you tightened as he stood up suddenly, taking you over to your window and pressing you up against it. "From now on, you're my little whore and I'm going to teach you just how to be a good cocksleeve for your master, okay?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he started thrusting into you, lips attaching to your neck. The moonlight washing over his face made him look so ethereal. He couldn't possibly be human. As his thrusts grew sharper, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, but you knew you had to. You wished you could stare at his beautiful face forever.

"Can't speak, darling?" He cooed, lips trailing down from your neck to your collarbone. He pulled down a strand of your top and started marking you up, leaving soon-to-be bruises all over your chest.

"That's alright. I know I'm fucking you dumb." He pouted at you, fake sympathy filling his face. "It's alright."

He looked down at the spot where you were connected, the sight of your pussy sucking in his cock drawing a grunt out of him. "Fuck...you're a good girl, aren't you? Taking in my cock so well."

The validation was all you craved. You mewled softly, your eyes big and needy as you clenched around his length, letting him know you were close. His hips stuttered as he realized he was nearing his high.

Seungmin narrowed his eyes suddenly as he looked past you. He brought his hand up to grab your cheek, moving it to the side and forcing you to look outside.

"Isn't that the dude you were seeing? Why's he here?"

Your eyes widened as you saw the figure holding a bouquet in his hands, dawdling about in front of your building. Jisung.

"Fuck- I broke up with him ages ago when he cheated on me. Why's he- oh fuck, Seungmin, right there-"

"Shh." He placed a finger on your mouth to silence you. "I'm your master now, baby. And listen to me..." He frowned as he recalled all the times Jisung had been a dick to you, cheating on you multiple times and being a general ass. Yet you always went back to him, falling for his feeble apologies. Not this time. Seungmin was tired of watching from the sidelines. He couldn't let you get your heart broken again.

"...you're not getting back together with him. You need to show this dick that you're over him, once and for all." He growled, watching as the man below entered the building.

"Seu- I mean, M-master..." You whined as he hit your sweet spot repeatedly. " We should stop- he's going to be here any second now- fuck!" You cried out as his cock relentlessly abused your pussy, making you moan incoherently.

Seungmin's ears perked up as he heard the doorbell ring, a smirk growing on his face. "Ah, finally. Now baby, what do you say to getting rid of that bastard once and for all?"

You couldn't respond, letting out a breathless whimper as Seungmin peeled you away from the window, still fucking up into you as he walked through your apartment to the front door. You didn't have the strength to protest anymore, your face buried in his shoulder as your ears registered the sound of him opening the door.

Seungmin found himself relishing the pure shock on Jisung's face. Fuck, he wanted to take a picture of his expression. This was what the asshole deserved.

"Sorry, Han. Get it through your thick-headed skull- she deserves better than you."

Seungmin aimed a particularly rough thrust right at your sweet spot at that very moment, and you keened, your orgasm washing over you so suddenly and solidly, you were almost blown away. The man let out a groan at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, his own high approaching rapidly.

"I think it's safe to say her taste in men has evolved." Seungmin said apologetically, slamming the door on Jisung's shell shocked face.

He pressed you up against the door, pounding into you as he chased his orgasm.

"Ah...I'm going to cum in you sweetheart- fuck, my good little princess, aren't you?"

You nodded slightly, your body weak. You could barely formulate a thought, let alone a sentence as Seungmin rammed into you, his cock feeling like heaven itself.

"That's right. And you'll always be my baby, my angel...shit- I’m going to fill you up with my cum. Maybe you’ll have my babies. How does that sound?" Seungmin hissed as he stared at your fucked out face, falling over the edge as he came, painting your walls white.

He collapsed against you, slowly dragging the two of you down to the floor in exhaustion.

You opened your mouth, a million words resting on the tip of your tongue as you stared at Seungmin, his breathing rough as he came down from his high. His fingers brushed against your entrance as he pulled out, pushing his cum back into you. “Now, now. Wouldn’t want to waste any of it...” He mumbled, lifting his finger to your mouth for you to suck. His gaze was soft as he gathered you close to him, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he shushed you.

"You don't have to talk now, baby, it's fine." He stood up shakily, taking you to his room and laying you on the bed. He got in with you and spooned you, kissing the crook of your neck.

"You're mine, from now on." He whispered, stroking your skin as he nuzzled closer.

"Only mine."

[crackededges]

Starry-Eyed

Pairing/s: Analogical

Warning/s: Kissing, implications of anxiety, and self-deprecating thoughts. If there should be more, feel free to let me know.

Summary: One night, Virgil finds Logan alone, gazing at the glittering sky. It takes Virgil every ounce of his being not to fall for the starry-eyed nerd in front of him, not knowing that he already has... 

Genre/s: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Word Count: 4366

Author’s Note: Leave it to me to make a Moceit ficlet and write this monstrosity after. Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated.

AO3

*****

“It’s getting pretty late…” Virgil stood solemnly across from Logan.

The night was warm. Warm enough to make the air heavy with musky scents of nature. From the sickly sweet smell of freesias to the shallow whiffs of grass, every little detail stood as an unashamed reminder of spring.

The evening breeze grazed his skin, wrapping him in its sultry embrace when he found Logan, seated on the ground, lost in his own head. The surroundings sighed. It was a delightful change from the usual cold nights that blew mercilessly at whoever was found awake and rattling with restless thoughts.

Restless thoughts like Logan’s.

Logan stiffened. He looked to the source of the voice, and let his muscles loosen once he recognized the figure in front of him. A short, relieved exhale could be heard escaping his lips. If one were to be quiet enough, maybe they’d hear Virgil’s curiosity spark in weak but volatile bursts.

“Virgil,” he began. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Virgil stepped closer. The grass brushed against his shoes, delicate but assertive. He usually didn’t like the sound. It was much too unsettling, especially at a time where darkness enveloped each corner with its presence, rendering anyone weak and helpless. But at that moment, it was the least of his worries. 

It wouldn’t be a part of his worries for quite a while. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Virgil stood beside him, making sure to maintain a comfortable distance. “You’re usually so strict with your own schedule.”

In one swift move, Logan brought his hand up to inspect the watch on his wrist and his eyes went wide. “My apologies.” He looked around, clearly disarranged. “I didn’t seem to notice the time.”

“Distracted?”

Logan looked up. “Pardon?”

“Were you distracted by something?”

His gaze retreated to the ground, shame and embarrassment flooding his face. “Yes…” He admitted. “I suppose that would be a good assumption.”

Virgil cracked a smile, finding amusement in Logan’s sudden loss of order about himself. He glanced at the sky above them. A dark blue canvas had covered its entirety with clouds bleeding into the thick veil, sporadic and untamed. Stars were scattered across the heavens, enthralling in their unaligned pattern. It provided balance in some way. A solitary flaw in a sea of flawless elegance. Now that was a sight to see. 

“I don’t blame you,” Virgil said. “The sky’s pretty clear tonight.”

“It is.”

“It’s rarely like this.”

Logan sighed, melancholy lacing his tone. “Unfortunately.”

A wave of empty silence passed. Logan cleared his throat, clearly not wanting to tolerate the awkwardness that hung in the air. “Speaking of nights, I should be preparing myself to sleep now.” He took one last glance at his watch before heading in the opposite direction. “Thank you for reminding me, Virgil.”

Virgil turned to look at him, his face tightening. He weighed his options, creating thousands upon thousands of reasons that spoke against what he was about to do. Yet... 

“Wait.”

Logan stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder and Virgil could’ve sworn his heart fluttered inside his chest, repeatedly colliding against the walls of his ribcage, when he was greeted with curious eyes he would willingly lose himself in.

“Virgil?” Logan asked, soft and cautious. “Is there something wrong?”

Virgil’s mind scrambled for something to say, desperately hoping that incoherent gibberish wouldn’t erupt from his lips. Luckily, they didn’t. “Like I said, the sky’s rarely like this. And it’s a weekend. It wouldn’t hurt to stay up for a little longer if you want to…”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see how that would be a logical idea.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

Logan stayed bolted to where he stood, unwavering. Virgil sighed. “Things don’t always have to be logical, Logan-”

“I highly doubt that.”

“And I saw the way you were staring before I interrupted. You seem so... intrigued.”

Strangely, Logan’s voice diminished, possibly subdued by the last word. “What about it?”

“Nothing. It’s just that…” Virgil paused, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t see you like that often. It’s a good break from being…”

“Unapproachable?”

“Stoic.”

“‘Stoic’?”

Virgil nodded.

Logan opened his mouth, hesitated, and said, “Should I take that as a negative observation?”

He shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I don’t think you should. You have a lot of self-control. That’s admirable.”

Logan stared at the ground, his face contorted into something Virgil couldn’t read. A crease formed between his eyebrows and that was enough of an indication for regret to start seeping into Virgil’s handwoven cloth of conscience. With an uneven voice, he quickly added, “Unless you don’t want to be called ‘stoic’, then just forget I said anything. I’m sorry if-”

“No.” Virgil cocked his head to the side, feeling the pricks of fear disperse and disintegrate. “It’s fine.” Logan turned to properly face Virgil. A hint of a smile could be seen upon his lips. “‘Stoic’ it is.”

It was Virgil’s turn to exhale with relief. 

Logan went and sat back down, letting meaningful silence pass between them aside from the faint rustling against the grass. Virgil shifted his footing. He tried to decide if his presence was still welcomed or not.

“Virgil?”

Virgil glanced back. “Yeah?”

Logan smiled. His next words were enough to make Virgil numb from the long-lasting buzz of excitement that jittered through his bones. 

“Would you like to join me?”

***

That was how it started. Every week, after all of the strain, after all of the fatigue, the worry, the tightness that slithered and branched from every shortcoming, they found themselves in the same spot at the same time. There was never any formal discussion about it. Neither of them told or urged the other to meet them there. A specific time was never set. It simply happened. Every week, there was an itch in the deepest parts of Virgil’s insides, slowly but surely growing until it was impossible to ignore. He needed to be by Logan’s side, and he feared trying to form a sensible reason behind it.

Maybe he didn’t need a reason. Maybe they could continue this small routine of theirs, forever gazing at the endless sea of stars above them while ignoring Virgil’s agonizing feeling of wanting more. So much more. More of Logan’s presence. More of his demeanor. More of his calming voice that cascaded along crevices of Virgil’s uncertainty and distress, filling them with nothing but mellow security. 

He wanted what lay beyond civil words and shallow smiles, but he would be a fool to say that it wasn’t far from his reach. Wanting more was a luxury he couldn’t afford. And what he had in that spot, beneath the stars, was all he could ever claim as his.

If that was the only thing he had in his grasp, he was going to savor it.

Logan had just finished discussing Sirius A, the brightest star that could be seen from Earth’s sky. Earlier, he pointed towards three stars spaced uniformly from one another. They eventually led to a ball of light that seemed to outshine the rest, grand and dignified with its superiority. 

Virgil thought it was lucky.

“Do you remember the other day?” Virgil asked, poking through the wall of silence between them. That was another thing. Silence was rarely tense; never rigid. In some miraculous way, Virgil found comfort in the lack of noise. With Logan next to him, taut air was left with no room to settle. And Virgil was thankful. “When you said you were unapproachable?”

“I rarely forget things, Virgil.”

“I know.” A shaky hand ran through his bangs. “I just wanted to be sure.”

Virgil felt Logan’s stare. He didn’t dare to meet it. “Yes, I remember.”

There was a pause.

“Is that seriously what you think of yourself as?”

Logan turned to him, giving a confused look. Something dangled behind his voice. Hurt. Hurt that wasn’t his to carry. He couldn’t understand how the word could have affected him. Maybe he was tired. That must be it. 

“Yes,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, it’s just that…” Virgil’s hand traced against his jeans, taking a stray thread and holding it between his fingers, a faux expression of focus plastered on his face. “Don’t you think that’s kinda harsh?”

“Being unapproachable?”

“Calling yourself unapproachable.”

“I don’t think so.” Logan reached up to adjust his glasses. Virgil still didn’t look at him. “It’s merely an observation. I know the others find it particularly difficult to consult me for dilemmas. Making an assumption based on their selective interactions was a logical thing to do.”

“Do you think we see you as unapproachable?”

Logan frowned. An answer stood stalling upon his lips. Maybe he didn’t like that. Maybe the question wandered to a place where it shouldn’t, and he couldn’t decide what to do with it other than wave it away like a fly that was much too adamant for its own good. “It would be a reasonable assumption…”

Virgil finally looked up and met Logan’s eyes, shiny with doubt. He barely noticed how close they were to one another, and that revelation almost made him choke. He took a breath and finally said, “Look, take it from someone who rarely leaves his room half of the time and hisses at anyone who tries to make any form of social interaction. You’re not unapproachable.”

Logan blinked, but their gaze didn’t break other than that. He stared into Virgil’s eyes, examining them. Waiting for something to falter. Something to hang back, show delay, and possibly give him a reason to believe otherwise. After a while, he turned away. Virgil had punched the air out of his arguments. When he spoke, his voice sounded lost. 

“Is there any logical evidence for that claim?”

With that, Virgil inched closer. He placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. The touch seared into his skin, but he didn’t pull back. He didn’t shy away. His hand stayed, rubbing fond circles on Logan’s back. Logan didn’t protest.

“You’re a lot of things, Logan. Unapproachable isn’t one of them.”

***

Logan's eyes rarely left the glittering sky. Virgil never complained. In fact, he found delight in it. Logan was in the middle of explaining the expansion of the universe, but Virgil couldn’t help but steal a small glance. He was glad for that. Studying the way Logan’s face lit up from uninterrupted immersion, a jolt of warmth danced without rest.

That was Logan’s effect on him, and it was certainly going to be the death of Virgil one day.

“I never got to ask why you were interested in space so much.”

“Hmm... ?”

Virgil shuffled, his shoulder brushing against Logan’s. They were lying on the grass now. What Virgil once considered as a comfortable distance was thrown out the window, forgotten, and replaced with a new meaning. He cleared his throat. “You always seem so excited whenever space is involved. I mean... I’m pretty sure that’s the reason why the two of us are here every week, isn’t it?” Among other reasons. “Why?”

“It’s big.”

Virgil snorted, nudging Logan slightly. “That’s why?”

Logan laughed at that. Virgil had heard Logan’s laugh before. No, not the stringent one that he uses around the others for the sake of emitting laughter. He had a real one. Raw and vulnerable. He heard it every time he was done with another one of his rambles about the origin of certain constellations, laughing off the far-fetched beliefs made by the Greeks and the Babylonians. He heard it after Virgil recounted an instance with Roman, on the brink of losing his mind after being told that he needed to have facial hair before he could shave, let alone use a godforsaken sword to do it. He heard it when a firefly strayed too far and found itself landing on Virgil’s nose. He wasn’t a stranger to Logan’s laugh. Even so, that didn’t stop his chest from stirring with endearment every time he did.

Logan shifted. “There’s something intriguing about large things, Virgil,” he began once the lighthearted jests had died down. “There’s always more to learn, more to explore, more to understand. Even with that in mind, space is something beyond that; it’s beyond our understanding.” He gestured vaguely towards the sky. “It’s a seemingly infinite void that holds non-Earthly phenomena and continuously expands even before we’ve had the chance to witness it all. Space alone proves that our knowledge compiled after millions of years is only a speck in our universe.”

He paused, taking in the view in front of him, relishing in it as if it was the only time he could do so. His eyes reflected the same fervor that spilled and oozed from his words. “Many think it’s overwhelming, perhaps terrifying, but I think it’s interesting. I even think it’s, dare I say it, beautiful.”

Logan sighed. A smile hung on his face, reaching past his cheeks and up to his eyes. Seconds later, his smile fell. He cleared his throat as a faint blush started forming on his face. “My apologies for rambling. I got quite carried away-”

“You don’t need to apologize, L.” Virgil’s hand trailed to Logan’s, squeezing it gently. At the corner of his eye, he could see Logan’s smile reattach itself, and Virgil couldn’t have been anymore lovesick. 

“I agree,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at the sky anymore. “It’s beautiful.”

***

One night, it was different. The usual balmy and cordial breeze had come and gone, leaving nothing but tight air that stung Logan’s nose. Virgil laid on the ground, frigid and quiet. There were no cynical remarks. No skepticism towards the constellations and the history they held. No glint of clever retorts. Not even a dismissive chuckle that acted as a sign of Virgil’s confusion from the overwhelming buckets of knowledge Logan threw onto his lap. 

Something was wrong. 

“Virgil?” Logan finally asked, having decided that he couldn’t withstand the sudden shift of the air between them. “Are you alright?

It took longer for Virgil to respond. Much longer. “Kinda…” His voice was worn and raspy. “Just had a rough day today.”

Logan sat up, facing him. He could see the restraint on Virgil’s face, clear as day despite the low glow of the night that only highlighted the sharp lines of his caricature. The view tugged at his chest, almost wounding. Since when did he feel like this towards another’s sorrow? Was it the way Virgil was clearly being selective with his words? Did he not trust him enough to be more open... or was it something else? Something he had yet to understand… like the dark veil above his head that held more questions than answers. Whatever it was, it tugged harder when he noticed Virgil turn away. It only added to his pain.

“Would you still be able to tolerate my presence for today? If you would rather be alone, that’s completely understandable-”

“No.”

Logan paused. Virgil tried to sneakily wipe his eyes, but it failed to get past Logan.

His expression softened. Virgil was struggling, but Logan didn’t want to be another stone for him to carry on his already weakening back. 

“You can stay,” Virgil said, his voice as quiet as a whisper. His face remained hidden. “Only if you want to.”

Virgil didn’t give him time to respond when he continued with, “If you don’t, that’s fine-”

“It’s okay.” 

Virgil’s chest rose unevenly. He looked up, exposing his tear-stained face, and caught Logan’s comforting gaze. For a moment, maybe that was all he needed; a look that held sincerity without an ounce of selfishness. 

He didn’t want to look away. He was afraid to. 

“I’ll stay.”

In a heartbeat, Virgil leaned into him, his face gently pressing against Logan’s shoulder, warm with tears. Logan wasn’t used to it, to say the least. Consoling someone was far from what he usually knew. Normally, he would leave the emotional complications to Patton. He knew more about emotions than Logan ever could. Quite frankly, Logan found himself vexed by it which meant that it would be doing both of them a favor. But today was different. Virgil was different… and he’d be damned before he’d catch himself sending Virgil away to someone else.

With his lack of experience, Logan only did what he felt was right. He wrapped his arms around him, placed a hand on the back of Virgil’s head, and he held. He held, and he held. He held Virgil close as if he had all the secrets of the world kept in his pocket. No. It was more than that... 

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Maybe what they had was beyond wanting. Beyond the usual things they craved from one another. At that moment, they held each other. They held without wanting anything in return.

Logan and Virgil sat on the grass, the sky twinkling without pause, and against all odds, they would stay. As long as Virgil needed him, as long as he had more tears to shed, they would stay.

In the midst of it all, Virgil’s words broke through, wobbly but certain.

“I’m really happy you’re here…”

***

A week passed.

Logan wasn’t there.

At first, Virgil didn’t know what to make of it. More days passed... and he still didn’t know. He knew the reason behind his absence. Thomas had started on another project. As a result, both Logan and Roman were whisked away, tucked back in their respective rooms, drowned in schedules, blanketed in pressure, and wrung dry with expectations as high as the stars. Virgil was no exception. That’s the thing with him... he’s never excluded entirely, is he? The sudden change in the flow of things left him winded; it left him gasping for air more than it usually did. Was it because of the anxiety that came with it all? Was it the tension and weight that he had to endure that disrupted the calmness of his days? Or was it... 

No.

No, it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be. Logan had every right to shift his attention to something else. After all, it was for the betterment of all of them. A victory for Thomas was a victory for all. If Logan wanted to dedicate his time to something that was clearly more productive and more worthy of his effort, who was Virgil to stop him?

Still, the pain that clawed in his chest didn’t cease.

Virgil didn’t expect Logan’s absence to be as hollow and bleak and... empty as it was. Surely, a little more than a week wouldn’t hurt much, would it? Oh, how wrong he was. As the yesterdays bled into tomorrows, something deep within him ached. It twisted and crumpled into a misshapen mess of longing and yearning. Yearning for the slowly expanding void to disappear until it morphed into a dismal hum, forever to be ignored and overlooked. He wanted it to shrink into what it should have been: something to pay no attention to.

He wanted... but he couldn’t afford wanting. He never did.

Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could pretend it didn’t bother him. He could pretend that the barrenness Logan left didn’t gather into a thunderstorm, raging and merciless. Menacing and violent. He could ignore how it lashed against his skin, the icy wind thrashing to and fro until he turned numb. He could lie. He could hide. He could find another way to ease his mind.

He could do that.

But if he could... then why was he sitting on the grass, looking out into the darkness, desperately wishing to hear who Orion was and why he was considered as such a great hunter from a voice of familiarity?

Why was he here?

“Virgil?”

It was Virgil’s turn to stiffen, but he didn’t turn and look to the source of the voice. He didn’t need to. The way his heart leapt to his chest served as undeniable evidence.

“It’s late,” Logan said, words drenched in fatigue.

“I know.”

There was a pause.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“This sounds familiar.”

Logan smiled through his words. “It does.”

Silence stretched. It stretched much longer than they would have liked. Logan shifted uncomfortably. “Virgil, why are you here?”

Virgil’s chest rose. His mind scraped every corner for a reason. When he turned up empty-handed, he replied with, “I’m not sure.”

They were met with silence once more. Logan took one step towards him. Then another. And another. He sat down, and the warmth of his presence was probably enough to tip Virgil over the edge from his precipice of constraint. For a while, they stayed like that, scared of saying the wrong things and making the wrong moves. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe talking wasn’t worth their time anymore. Maybe Logan had decided it was for the best that they stopped. For the best... 

Why did the best always seem to hurt the most?

“I’m really sorry if what happened last time put you off.”

Logan glanced at him. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know.” Virgil scratched the back of his head shamefully. “I thought I scared you or something.”

“I don’t get scared.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I... don’t think I do.”

“Why do you always-” Virgil stopped and took a breath, letting his head drop into his hands. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Virgil-”

“Did I upset you in some way?” His tone started to waver like how a gate shook and rattled before bursting open, letting loose whatever creature that panted for freedom.

“Of course, not.” Logan’s next words were soft. Light. Delicate. “I was busy. You know this.”

“I do.” Virgil sighed. “I do know. I’m sorry. I just…”

For a while, Logan looked at him. Thoughtful and evaluative. He still had a hard time grasping why he cared so much about the words that left Virgil’s mouth. It wasn’t even merely the words anymore. With every action, every mannerism, every breath that filtered through his chest, he was left to dangle on a limb, desperately trying to understand more. Perceive more. Absorb more than what Virgil was letting on. Maybe, by some miracle, he could finally decipher the weird language of Virgil, and he could offer him what he wanted. What he needed. The chances of Logan actually giving him that were ridiculously low, but for Virgil, he would try. As long as Virgil’s mind went rampant with whirlwinds of disquiet, he would try.

Again and again, Logan would try.

Virgil lifted his head, still avoiding Logan’s gaze. “I’ve never had something like this.”

Logan’s brows furrowed. “Like... what?”

“This.” Virgil gestured to the space between them. “Just talking and listening and looking and…” He paused, taking his time to consider his next words. He ran a nervous hand through his bangs. “It’s always just been me, y’know? I’ve never had anyone else to talk to and help forget that the rest of the world exists. It’s nice. It feels nice. I guess I was just... scared.”

“Scared…” Logan repeated hesitantly. “Of what?”

A weak laugh escaped Virgil’s lips. “Of losing it in some stupid way.”

“Virge…” Logan began, but the rest of it trailed off.  It wasn’t important. Not anymore.

It all started with a touch on Virgil’s shoulder. Just a small pat that said Logan was there. But it burned. It burned with aching. Tenderness. Affection. Everything that was stripped from them after so long came together in one touch, crowding around like a whirlpool. Before they even noticed, Logan wrapped his hand around him. Virgil clung onto it, holding as if his life depended on it. Logan came closer, taking the gesture Virgil threw his way and wrapped him with another hand. His embrace formed a port, a cover, a shelter to shield him from the raging storm of the world outside of their little spot. Logan would do that for him. He had no doubt about that.

When Logan was close enough, he rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil turned to him slightly and he let their foreheads touch with a warmth that spread like a wildfire. Logan still had his arms around him, his heat infectious in the best way possible. Virgil couldn’t believe it. He almost didn’t want to. He feared for the sun to rise from its dark and desolate chamber, shedding its light and revealing what they had to be nothing but an illusion. He didn’t want the sun to rise. He didn’t want the night to end. He didn’t want to open his eyes and be greeted with the same stony loneliness he was used to.

But he wasn’t. He opened his eyes, and there was Logan. And Virgil couldn’t have asked for anything else.

Virgil spoke. It was soft and breathy, but Logan was close enough to hear it. “Are you still busy?” He finally asked, his lips lightly grazing against his. “Do you need to leave?”

“No.”

Virgil swallowed thickly. “Can you stay?”

Logan squeezed him tighter as if proving a point… and he smiled. “As long as you want.”

His smile was contagious and Virgil couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth quirked up. After a while, he lifted his head and was met with blue eyes as dark as the night sky. His smile faded. So did Logan’s. The air quivered between them, shivering with uncertainty. But amongst all the doubts that clouded the moment, they were certain of one thing and one thing only.

Virgil leaned forward. Logan met him halfway. Their eyes fluttered shut before their lips met in complete and utter adoration for the other. Logan’s lips were sweeter than Virgil expected, but that didn’t stop his stomach from spinning and twisting into knots in the slightest. Why would it?

When they broke away, Virgil opened his eyes again and was surprised to see the same starry-eyed look Logan always had when he was lost in the stars above. Virgil couldn’t do anything else but lean forward for more.

Perhaps space wasn’t the only thing that Logan found captivating.

[lazy-safetastic-13]

The Cold Shoulder

Oooooh drabbles! In most fics people generally understand and accept the fell bros pretty quickly since they know how there world is, but it’s kinda odd that the fell bros are up to sharing so quickly. So how about a story were everyone is just really suspicious of them cause there lv expect undertale pap (and or blue I don’t care). Spicy cinaroll please, I need more of this paring. I don’t care if fell Paps is a hard core douche or just tunsundere, you do you man XD. Love your stuff by the by, bottom uf sans forevermore! (Derp this ended up long, my internet has been spastic so sorry if I sent it twice)

Me: This is the only time I am doing this because I fear that you will not see this post if I do a regular post instead. ;v;)  I don’t know if I’ll be able to even tag you ^^”)

Hopefully you are notified! :O

So to reiterate (just in case): I don’t do submission requests as I mostly take requests from ‘asks’ when I ask for it. So when I ask for prompts in the future, just through my ask box is fine. The Submit box is for works you guys want to show me other than tagging. :)

That’s all, and sorry for the long wait too!! ;v;)

AND YES MY FRIEND. BOTTOM UF!SANS FOREVER! XD

Pairing: Spicycinaroll

Words: 1, 061

Ever since they decided to leave their universe and live with their counterparts, of a world much nicer and peaceful than theirs, eyes were on them constantly whenever the two brothers were out on some errands around town.

They paid it no mind. Or more like, Fell naturally glared in their way for them to stop and Red just settled with having his hood up.

They were currently making their way back after some grocery shopping, and Red wanted to snap at the townspeople once and for all. If anything actually, it made him want to go back to their own universe. Well … it was a trial anyway. If it didn’t work out, they’d just visit from time to time then.

No doubt their LV, especially Fell’s, makes everyone around them so wary. Even if there were … tolerating their existence.

“I don’t understand why they are still staring at us like we’re dangerous when it’s been practically 3 months and we haven’t done shit! I mean, while it’s understandable that I, the great and terrible Papyrus, is to be feared by all regardless of the universe,”

“Naturally.” Red added with a smirk that caused his brother to brighten despite the angry scowl that seemed to be permanently plastered on his face—only the ones who knew Fell well would understand the slightest of changes.  

“This was just ridiculous.” The tall skeleton marched faster. “These monsters won’t last long in our world that’s for sure.”

“Heh, well, it’s our fucking LV after all. And this place is just all about rainbows and cupcakes.”

Fell guffawed at the statement and the two continued to take shots at the world in comparison to theirs as they made their way back.

It was at least something to ignore the others around them.  

Once home and opening the door, the tension left Red. And a brief glance at his brother, shoulders sagging much like what he just did, the latter had been on guard as well. It will be quite a habit to break if they really did plan to stay.

But the time will come if it did. For the time being, the two brothers proceeded to take off their shoes after one of them closed the door.

The sound alerted one of the occupants in the house of their arrival, and Papyrus was the one to greet them as he came out of the kitchen. Sans was still at work, so he had informed them that he’d be coming home late.

“How was your trip?” Papyrus walked towards them in order to get the paper bags Red carried. While the short skeleton said that he could handle it, Papyrus took it regardless.

Fell answered the question. “They don’t like us.” A simple and matter-of-fact sentence that had Papyrus frowning as the latter carried the rest of the bags and headed to the kitchen.

Red sighed, rubbing his nape nervously.  “They were staring, but it wasn’t as bad as before when they were talking behind our backs.”

Papyrus’ frown deepened, looking to be on the borderline of actually getting mad; a rarity for the usually cheerful skeleton. Red decided to change the subject. “But never mind that sweetheart, I’m more than looking forward to that new recipe you’re thinking of making for tonight’s dinner.”

“I made absolute sure we got all the ingredients you requested.” Fell piped up from the kitchen which made Red chuckle. His brother had been actually quite excited to learn what Papyrus was planning to cook up.

The short skeleton looked up as Papyrus stayed quiet, and his eye sockets widened when he saw the latter tearing up. “H-Hey, it’s okay Paps. No need for the waterworks.”

“I-It’s just … not fair.”

“Yeah?” Red looked back and met eye contact with Fell. The latter simply nodded, and began heading upstairs to give them some privacy. “Let me hear it, love.”

Papyrus wiped his tears, his grip on the paper bag loosening; having unconsciously tightened it earlier and the crinkling of paper could be heard. “It’s been 3 months, Red. 3 whole months.”

Fell made the same comment earlier, and Red sighed again. “I know, Paps. I get it, really. But what you gonna do right? Our LV is just too high to be normal in your world.” The short skeleton smiled as he gently took the other’s free hand to his own. “‘Sides, not like they’re doing anything bad than give us a cold shoulder.”

“Well, I suppose that—” Papyrus paused, squinting down at the skeleton whose grin widened even more. “Was that a pun, Red?”

Red shrugged his shoulders as he looked away, trying and failing to look innocent. “ … Maybe.”

The moment those words left his mouth, the short skeleton let go of Papyrus’ hand as the latter moved to put the bag down. Before Red could think about teleporting, a blue bone swiped across him that made his body heavy and immobile.

Oh shit. Red found himself sweating as Papyrus trapped him, his back against the door.

The tall skeleton leaned down; gloved hands placed on either side of the short skeleton’s head, and regarded him with the most serious look he could muster.

“So … You think you’re so cool, huh? Just because you made that joke?”

Red was beside himself with delight. If he could move, he’d be actually giggling.

“It’s snow joking matter, Red. So you need to chill with the puns.”

Once Papyrus’ magic wore off, the two skeletons silently stared at each other, before bursting in uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh my-Oh my fucking stars Paps! That was,” Red held his stomach. “Awesome!”

“Nyehehehe~! I was worried that I was going to end up laughing too soon.”

“Aced it, sweetheart.” The short skeleton wiped the tears that formed in his eye sockets. “Stars, I’m so proud.”

“Ugh, don’t tell Sans, Red. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Red grinned, “Well, I can for a pri—”

The short skeleton stilled as Papyrus kissed him. Their tongues intertwined, but the kiss didn’t last long.  

Papyrus smiled widely as Red’s face flushed and was rendered speechless. “Don’t worry, Red. We’ll continue after dinner.”

Not ‘can’, but ‘will’. And Red was the one left babbling incoherently as the tall skeleton laughed and decided to get started on making dinner.

Get dunked on.

XD Finally finished this. Hoped you like it. 

[spookypastatoo]

Smile.jpg

I first met in person with Mary E. in the summer of 2007. I had arranged with her husband of fifteen years, Terence, to see her for an interview. Mary had initially agreed, since I was not a newsman but rather an amateur writer gathering information for a few early college assignments and, if all went according to plan, some pieces of fiction. We scheduled the interview for a particular weekend when I was in Chicago on unrelated business, but at the last moment Mary changed her mind and locked herself in the couple’s bedroom, refusing to meet with me. For half an hour I sat with Terence as we camped outside the bedroom door, I listening and taking notes while he attempted fruitlessly to calm his wife.

The things Mary said made little sense but fit with the pattern I was expecting: though I could not see her, I could tell from her voice that she was crying, and more often than not her objections to speaking with me centered around an incoherent diatribe on her dreams - her nightmares. Terence apologized profusely when we ceased the exercise, and I did my best to take it in stride; recall that I wasn’t a reporter in search of a story, but merely a curious young man in search of information. Besides, I thought at the time, I could perhaps find another, similar case if I put my mind and resources to it.

Mary E. was the sysop for a small Chicago-based Bulletin Board System in 1992 when she first encountered smile.jpg and her life changed forever. She and Terence had been married for only five months. Mary was one of an estimated 400 people who saw the image when it was posted as a hyperlink on the BBS, though she is the only one who has spoken openly about the experience. The rest have remained anonymous, or are perhaps dead.

In 2005, when I was only in tenth grade, smile.jpg was first brought to my attention by my burgeoning interest in web-based phenomena; Mary was the most often cited victim of what is sometimes referred to as “Smile.dog,” the being smile.jpg is reputed to display. What caught my interest (other than the obvious macabre elements of the cyber-legend and my proclivity toward such things) was the sheer lack of information, usually to the point that people don’t believe it even exists other than as a rumor or hoax.

It is unique because, though the entire phenomenon centers on a picture file, that file is nowhere to be found on the Internet; certainly many photomanipulated simulacra litter the web, showing up with the most frequency on sites such as the imageboard 4chan, particularly the /x/-focused paranormal subboard. It is suspected these are fakes because they do not have the effect the true smile.jpg is believed to have, namely sudden onset temporal lobe epilepsy and acute anxiety.

This purported reaction in the viewer is one of the reasons the phantom-like smile.jpg is regarded with such disdain, since it is patently absurd, though depending on whom you ask the reluctance to acknowledge smile.jpg’s existence might be just as much out of fear as it is out of disbelief. Neither smile.jpg nor Smile.dog is mentioned anywhere on Wikipedia, though the website features articles on such other, perhaps more scandalous shocksites as ****** (hello.jpg) or 2girls1cup; any attempt to create a page pertaining to smile.jpg is summarily deleted by any of the encyclopedia’s many admins.

Encounters with smile.jpg are the stuff of Internet legend. Mary E.’s story is not unique; there are unverified rumors of smile.jpg showing up in the early days of Usenet and even one persistent tale that in 2002 a hacker flooded the forums of humor and satire website Something Awful with a deluge of Smile.dog pictures, rendering almost half the forum’s users at the time epileptic.

It is also said that in the mid-to-late 90s, smile.jpg circulated on Usenet and as an attachment of a chain email with the subject line “SMILE!! GOD LOVES YOU!” Yet despite the huge exposure these stunts would generate, there are very few people who admit to having experienced any of them and no trace of the file or any link has ever been discovered.

Those who claim to have seen smile.jpg often weakly joke that they were far too busy to save a copy of the picture to their hard drive. However, all alleged victims offer the same description of the photo: a dog-like creature (usually described as appearing similar to a Siberian Husky), illuminated by the flash of the camera, sits in a dim room, the only background detail that is visible being a human hand extending from the darkness near the left side of the frame. The hand is empty, but is usually described as “beckoning.” Of course, most attention is given to the dog (or dog-creature, as some victims are more certain than others about what they claim to have seen.) The muzzle of the beast is reputedly split in a wide grin, revealing two rows of very white, very straight, very sharp, very human-looking teeth.

This is, of course, not a description given immediately after viewing the picture, but rather a recollection of the victims, who claim to have seen the picture endlessly repeated in their mind’s eye during the time they are, in reality, having epileptic fits. These fits are reported to continue indeterminably, often while the victims sleep, resulting in very vivid and disturbing nightmares. These may be treated with medication, though in some it is more effective than others.

Mary E., I assumed, was not on effective medication. That was why after my visit to her apartment in 2007 I sent out feelers to several folklore and urban legend oriented newsgroups, websites, and mailing lists, hoping to find the name of a supposed victim of smile.jpg who felt more interested in talking about his experiences. For a time nothing happened and at length I forgot completely about my pursuits, since I had begun my freshman year of college and was quite busy. Mary contacted me via email, however, near the beginning of March 2008.

To: jml@****.com From: marye@****.net Subj: Last summer’s interview

Dear Mr. L., I am incredibly sorry about my behavior last summer when you came to interview me. I hope you understand that it was no fault of yours, but rather my own problems that led me to act out as I did. I realize that I could have handled the situation more decorously; however, I hope you will forgive me. At the time, I was afraid.

You see, for fifteen years I have been haunted by smile.jpg. Smile.dog comes to me in my sleep every night. I know that sounds silly, but it is true. There is an ineffable quality about my dreams, my nightmares, that make them completely unlike any real dreams I have ever had. I do not move and do not speak. I simply look ahead, and the only thing ahead of me is the scene from that horrible picture. I see the beckoning hand, and I see Smile.dog. It beckons to me. It is not a dog, of course, though I am not quite sure what it really is. It tells me it will leave me alone if only I will do as it asks. All I must do, it says, is “spread the word.” That is how it phrases its demands. And I know exactly what it means: it wants me to show it to someone else.

And I could. The week after my incident I received in the mail a manila envelope with no return address. Inside was only a 3½ inch floppy diskette. Without having to check, I knew precisely what was on it. I thought for a long time about my options. I could show it to a stranger, a coworker… I could even show it to Terence, as much as the idea disgusted me. And what would happen then? Well, if Smile.dog kept its word I could sleep. Yet if it lied, what would I do? And who was to say something worse would not come for me if I did as the creature asked?

So I did nothing for fifteen years, though I kept the diskette hidden among my things. Every night for fifteen years Smile.dog has come to me in my sleep and demanded that I spread the word. For fifteen years I have stood strong, though there have been hard times. Many of my fellow victims on the BBS board where I first encountered smile.jpg stopped posting; I heard some of them committed suicide. Others remained completely silent, simply disappearing off the face of the web. They are the ones I worry about the most.

I sincerely hope you will forgive me, Mr. L., but last summer when you contacted me and my husband about an interview I was near the breaking point. I decided I was going to give you the floppy diskette. I did not care if Smile.dog was lying or not, I wanted it to end. You were a stranger, someone I had no connection with, and I thought I would not feel sorrow when you took the diskette as part of your research and sealed your fate. Before you arrived I realized what I was doing: plotting to ruin your life. I could not stand the thought, and in fact still cannot. I am ashamed, Mr. L., and I hope that this warning will dissuade you from further investigation of smile.jpg. You may in time encounter someone who is, if not weaker than I, then wholly more depraved, someone who will not hesitate to follow Smile.dog’s orders.

Stop while you are still whole.

Sincerely, Mary E.

Terence contacted me later that month with the news that his wife had killed herself. While cleaning up the various things she’d left behind, closing email accounts and the like, he happened upon the above message. He was a man in shambles; he wept as he told me to listen to his wife’s advice. He’d found the diskette, he revealed, and burned it until it was nothing but a stinking pile of blackened plastic. The part that most disturbed him, however, was how the diskette had hissed as it melted. Like some sort of animal, he said.

I will admit that I was a little uncertain about how to respond to this. At first I thought perhaps it was a joke, with the couple belatedly playing with the situation in order to get a rise out of me. A quick check of several Chicago newspapers’ obituaries, however, proved that Mary E. was indeed dead. There was, of course, no mention of suicide in the article. I decided that, for a time at least, I would not further pursue the subject of smile.jpg, especially since I had finals coming up at the end of May.

But the world has odd ways of testing us. Almost a full year since I returned from my disastrous interview with Mary E., I received another email:

To: jml@****.com From: elzahir82@****.com Subj: smile

Hello

I found your email address thru a mailing list your profile said you are interested in smiledog. I have saw it it is not as bad as every one says I have sent it to you here. Just spreading the word.

(:

The final line chilled me to the bone.

According to my email client there was one file attachment called, naturally, smile.jpg. I considered downloading it for some time. It was most likely a fake, I imagined, and even if it wasn’t I was never wholly convinced of smile.jpg’s peculiar powers. Mary E.’s account had shaken me, yes, but she was probably mentally unbalanced anyway. After all, how could a simple image do what smile.jpg was said to accomplish? What sort of creature was it that could break one’s mind with only the power of the eye?

And if such things were patently absurd, then why did the legend exist at all? If I downloaded the image, if I looked at it, and if Mary turned out to be correct, if Smile.dog came to me in my dreams demanding I spread the word, what would I do? Would I live my life as Mary had, fighting against the urge to give in until I died? Or would I simply spread the word, eager to be put to rest? And if I chose the latter route, how could I do it? Whom would I burden in turn?

If I went through with my earlier intention to write a short article about smile.jpg, I decided, I could attach it as evidence. And anyone who read the article, anyone who took interest, would be affected. And even assuming the smile.jpg attached to the email was genuine, would I be capricious enough to save myself in that manner?

Could I spread the word?

Yes, yes I could.