#things she wants no smoke with: the bugs she’s supposed to eat

[ticktockmyclockworkhart]

my tarantula: is among the largest species of her family, has some of the most irritating urticating hairs of NW species, has fangs the size of a domestic cat’s claws, strong enough to drag around half the things in her enclosure with ease, has perfect camouflage on her cocofiber substrate, large enough to make audible intimidating hissing noises, very willing to give threat postures and lunge at anything that intrudes in her enclosure, engineered by mother nature to be an apex arachnid predator capable of taking down prey like lizards, mice, birds, frogs or even snakes

also my tarantula when a worm barely half the length of her shortest leg with a head that has been preemptively crushed wriggles slightly as it dies:

[lunaraindrop]

We Are Not the Kissing Space Twins (part 2)

Fic by lunaraindrop

Well, you asked for it! Let's find out about Steve's secret twin!

The red numbers mocked her as her digital clock blinked over to 4:27 pm.

Robin's nerves were frazzled like the feather on her band uniform.

Tonight was supposed to be a fun night! Vickie had asked her last week if she wanted to come over to her house and have a movie marathon...and a sleepover. Of course she jumped at the chance! (Steve had said, excitedly and with way too many winks that Vickie was putting the moves on her.)

Robin had not known if it was a "friend movie marathon" or a "i-like-you-makeout movie marathon", but she had prepared for both.

But then Vickie called her earlier that afternoon to postpone. Apparently, her entire family got a stomach bug, and their house was a cesspool for germs.

Bummed, Robin tried to think of something else to do.

Hanging with Steve was out. His parents decided to grace him with their *lovely* presence after four months away on "business." They insisted on having a "family dinner." Steve always gets ultra stressed when he has to do the staunchy dinners in The Harrington Dining Room with the real silver, cloth napkins, and the Fine China that cost probably as much as his car. Telling him that her "maybe date" was off was just going to disappoint him too.

Eddie wasn't going to be any fun, either. All Eddie would do would be pine over Steve, try to sneak in a smoke, and eat whipped cream out of a can.

Nancy was spending the day with Jonathan. The kids made sure they all had things to do because Steve couldn't take them anywhere.

Then she had what she thought was a great idea. She could get her learner's permit! She had studied the written test bookelett front to back, as well as gone over all the driving rules and tricks with Steve and Eddie.

She wasn't working that day, and she was completely free. Perfect timing! All she had to do was get her birth certificate.

Which...proved to be harder than she thought.

Robin paced her bedroom, probably wearing a path in the carpet.

She never caught on that her parents were reluctant to give her her birth certificate. When she would suggest getting her permit or license, they would talk about how they couldn't afford to have her driving. A car and insurance cost a lot of money. Then they would guilt trip her into not driving at all with fears of her getting into an accident. She never knew her name, but that was how she was told her bio mom died.

She would always let it go when they talked about the "angel that gave them their precious baby girl."

But she knew now that they were hiding something from her!

When she pressed until they gave in, she saw what on her birth certificate. She felt so betrayed! How could they lie to her like that?

The taunting clock on her nightstand changed to 4:30. The DMV was now closed. Not that it even mattered!

She couldn't take it anymore! Robin picked up the phone.

"Hey, Nancy? I hate to ask, but could you and Jonathan come pick me up? I really need a friend right now."

---

In the Byers-Hopper living room, Nancy blinked up at Robin. "So, you are actually a year *older* than you thought you were?"

Robin threw her hand in the air. "Yes! And they didn't tell me! Evidently, it wasn't just that I took longer than the rest of the babies to walk! Oh no, I was in the NICU for *months*! I was so far behind in my milestones that my parents decided to just tell me I was a year younger and enroll me in school a year later than everyone else!"

Jonathan dodged a flailing arm and handed Robin a cup of tea. "Here, sit down and drink this. It's my mom's chamomile. I think you need it."

Taking a breath, Robin nodded her thanks and took a sip. Then made a face. "This tastes like laundry detergent and bourbon."

Jonathan shrugged with a small smirk. "I said it's my mom's."

Nancy went into investigation mode. "Okay, so your parents adopted you three days after you were born. Closed adoption. Your biological mother died, and no information about your biological fatherm. Instead of 1968, you were adopted in 1967."

Carefully putting the mug down on a magazine on the table, Robin ran her fingers through her hair. "Me being adopted is old news, Nancy. I've known I was my parents 'miracle baby' since I was able to walk...which I don't know when that is now! Was it *actually* six months after most kids, or *a year and six months* after most kids?!?"

Nancy waved her hand to cut Robin off. "Robin! I understand. I'm just trying to understand how nobody knew this information."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "About Robin being adopted?"

Nancy sighed. "No, about how Robin could go through the whole school system and sign government NDA's without getting flagged that her birthday was wrong. I'm wondering if her adoption records say something else."

She got up to grab a notepad and started scribbling. "The information given to the Buckley's, if they can believed- sorry Robin- is that the adoption was a closed adoption. Having records sealed makes sense, but not a closed adoption. There was no father, according to Robin's parents. Just her biological mother. Who died in a car accident. So...who made sure it was a closed adoption? Who isn't supposed to be contacted? Does that have anything to do with the year change?"

Jonathan got up and pulled out his wallet. "Robin, you've never had a physical ID, right?" He showed off his own driver's license with his awful bowl cut hair picture.

"No. I haven't even had a permit yet. At nineteen! I'm so far behind!"

Jonathan nodded and looked to Nancy to continue. When she nodded back, he handed Robin his license. "If you've never had an ID, the only time you would see your birthday written anywhere would either be at school or by your parents." He turned to Nancy. "If her school records say she was born in 1967, then they knew she was a year older, but didn’t say anything... If they filled out her forms saying 1968, then they lied to the Roane County Board of Education, and they didn't check her birth certificate."

Nancy pointed a pencil at Robin. "You might have accidentally uncovered a hidden adoption scheme in Hawkins."

Robin flexed her fingers. "That's nice, you guys. Really nice. I may be a part of some big adoption conspiracy. But the fact remains, I'm a year older than I ever thought I was, and my parents lied to me about it."

Nancy and Jonathan both flinched.

Right. Comfort Robin now, investigate later.

Nancy walked over and stilitingly pat Robin’s shoulder. She wracked her brain for something to cheer the woman up.

"Well, you and Steve can actually pretend to be twins, now! Your birthdays are now only three days apart!

Part 1 here:

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 5.7k

Part 13/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"Sometimes we don't want to heal because the pain is the last link to what we’ve lost." - J.M. Storm

Masterlist

“You have to be good at something.” Charlotte shook her head, sighing her exasperation.

“Evidently, my skills don’t lie in anything we’ve tried so far.” The tangled mess of knitting to your side taunted you. You must have been capable of doing some things back in your world. Why was it that when you’d come to Runeterra, you’d been unable to do most basic activities and chores with any sort of success? Had that been the price of having magic? 

Seemed like a strange trade, but it wasn’t like you’d had much of a choice - nor would you have chosen any other option if it meant you didn’t get to meet Viktor. 

“Charlotte,” you started, a thought occurring to you, entirely separate from the topic at hand, “why are they called “the Firelights’?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “I would imagine it has something to do with firelights, but given that I’m not a member, I haven’t a clue.”

That did very little to answer your question, so you pushed on. “What exactly is a firelight?”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at you. “Are you pulling my leg, girl? How could you not know what a firelight is? Greenish glowing butt bugs that fly around at night mostly, they’re everywhere.”

You had seen insects matching that description, but that still made little sense to you. “You mean fireflies?”

From the look Charlotte gave you, you would have thought you’d asked her to eat one of the supposed firelights. With a huff, she shook her head. “You say the darndest things sometimes.” She turned towards the next tent, seeing something that caught her eye, “You wait here, I’ll be right back.”

You’d barely had time to voice your confirmation when a clear container with one of your sparks floating idly around broke through your line of sight, two small hands grasping it on either side. 

Blinking, you lowered your gaze until you came upon the proudly grinning face of the young girl you’d met on the way to Stillwater. 

“Oh, hello,” you said with a smile, relief flooding through you and making your limbs weaken. You crouched down to her height and suppressed the waver in your voice. “I’m so happy to see you’re alright. Though I didn’t expect that you’d still have one of my sparks.”

You poked the container, the spark inside zipping around as it reacted to your touch. The girl grinned wider, her helmet flopping as he tilted her head to the side.

“Isha!” A girl called from behind you, and though you’d never met her in person before, you’d heard her speak in a vision and recognized the voice instantly; it belonged to Jinx. “What are you doing? You can’t just go running off like that. Get back here!”

Your vision blurred without warning, the world around you fading into a hazy orange glow.

Isha, unmistakable in her painted helmet and little blue braids, sprinted through a war-torn landscape. Smoke billowed from all directions, and the air was thick with the acetic scent of burning flesh. Her large boots slapped against blood-slicked ground as she dodged debris and fallen bodies. The spark container, now cracked and dirty, bounced on her hip.

You watched, helpless, as she darted between clashing soldiers. Their weapons clanged in bursts of crackling energy and sprays of crimson. Isha weaved through them with a desperate grace, her eyes wide with determination and fear.

For a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of a circular structure in the distance, the ceiling blown out; this was the commune.

But before you could grasp any further details, you were launched back into your body, swaying as you adjusted to the difference in time.

Useless, as always. Warning you of things to come but not how to stop it. You clenched your fists at your side, exhaling shakily.

Isha stared up at you, her large eyes wide with wonder. It had been a long time since you’d had a vision in front of anyone who wasn’t Viktor, but you couldn’t blame her for being curious about your glowing eyes. 

You cleared your throat and straightened, trying to shake off the lingering disorientation from the vision. The world around you seemed to snap back into focus, colours intensifying as your eyes readjusted. Isha still gazed up at you, her mouth slightly agape, the spark container clutched tightly to her chest.

Before you could say anything, a blur of vibrant colours rushed past you. Jinx skidded to a halt, her long, blue braids whipping around her torso as she grabbed Isha's hand. The older girl's chest heaved, clearly out of breath from chasing after Isha.

"Sorry about her," Jinx began, her words tumbling out in a rushed stream. "She's just so curious about everything, wouldn’t know a warf-rat was dangerous unless it bit her on the—"

Jinx's rambling apology cut off abruptly as her gaze met yours. Her eyes, a striking shade of pink - so similar to your own - narrowed suspiciously. The manic energy that had propelled her forward seemed to evaporate, replaced by a wary stillness that set your nerves on edge.

“Have I…seen you somewhere before? You look awfully familiar.” 

“Oh, uh, probably not.” You had never been a good liar. “I just have one of those faces.”

She rocked back on her heels, her braids swaying as she eyed the floating sparks. “Think I’d remember a mage in the city that famously hates mages. Have you always had…these?”

She waved at the sparks, and Isha raised her container, shaking it for Jinx to see and blessedly diverting her attention, allowing you to avoid her question.

You watched as Jinx's eyes darted between you and the spark container, and you could almost taste the sour tang of her suspicion.

"Isha, give the lady her…thing back," Jinx said, her voice unnaturally slow and deliberate. Her eyes never left your face, searching for something - recognition, perhaps, or deceit.

"It's okay," you said quickly, holding up your hands in a display of innocence. "It's a gift. She can keep it."

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, surprising even yourself. But as you gazed at Isha's hopeful face, framed by those bright blue braids and the oversized helmet, you knew you couldn't bear to take it back. The spark inside the container seemed to pulse in agreement, casting a soft, ethereal glow on the child's round cheeks. Besides, you had plenty more of them, you could do with one less.

Jinx's eyebrows shot up. "A gift? You're just handing out magical…whatever-these-are to random kids?" She laughed, a sharp, disbelieving sound. "That's either really generous or really stupid. Maybe both."

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "It's harmless, I promise. Just a bit of light, really."

Jinx's eyes narrowed again, her gaze boring into you with an intensity that made you want to squirm. "Are you sure we haven't met before? There's something about you that's just so familiar."

Your heart raced, and you could feel a bead of sweat forming at the nape of your neck. You desperately wished for Viktor's steadying presence, his logical mind that could navigate these treacherous conversational waters. But he wasn't here, and you were left to flounder on your own.

"I-I don't think so," you stammered, cursing your inability to lie convincingly.

Jinx tilted her head, her long braids swaying like colourful pendulums. "Huh. Weird. Could've sworn I'd seen your face before. Maybe in a dream or something." She shrugged, her restless energy returning as quickly as it had vanished. "Ah, well. C'mon, Isha. Let's let the nice glowy lady get back to her glowing in peace."

Jinx started to turn away, then paused. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Word of advice, Sparkles. If you're gonna lie, at least try to make it believable. You're worse at it than a Piltie trying to blend in down here."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but before you could stammer out a response, Jinx was already moving. Isha waved goodbye from Jinx's side, the spark container clutched tightly in her other hand. You watched them disappear into the commune, your mind reeling from the encounter. The lingering image of your vision - Isha running through a battlefield that happened to be in your home - overlapped with the reality of her cheerful farewell.

And all it did was strike panic into your heart, with no way to stop that disaster from happening.

“Somehow, that doesn’t shock me.” You sighed, wiping your hand down your face. “Vander died but was revived and mutated into a feral wolf creature and now his adopted daughters have brought him to you to bring him back to himself.”

Viktor had filled you in, and you’d shared with him the contents of your vision of Isha. Worrying as it was, there wasn’t much that either of you could do about it except keep an eye out for trouble. If only you’d been able to get a better look at the soldiers, but with all that dust and carnage, you hadn’t been able to make out any identifying marks.

“That about sums it up, yes.” Viktor disconnected himself from the wires, floating down to stand beside you with quiet clacks as his feet touched the ground. 

“And you think you can do that?” You’d encountered him that night at Stillwater, all feral rage and brutality, like a rabid dog unleashed on a burrow of bunnies. 

He smiled, trailing his fingers down your cheeks. “I do, though I would greatly appreciate your assistance.”

“You…” you frowned, unsure what exactly he thought you could do, “want me to help?”

“I do.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand resting on your hip and tracing little circles through the fabric of your clothes. “You have the most experience with losing yourself beneath layers of pain and fear, and your ability to return my emotions has been extraordinary. You’re the perfect candidate.” 

You snorted, but could do little to cover your blush when his face was so close to yours, watching you with an ardour that made your stomach ripple. “Flatterer.” 

“Eh, it’s simply the truth.” He inched closer to you, and you tilted your chin up in response. But as your eyes fluttered closed, his lips ghosting over yours, you were rudely interrupted. 

“Huh, didn’t expect the metal fortune cookie to have a girlfriend, but I guess everyone has a type.” Jinx leaned against the entryway, arms crossed lazily. “Don’t stop on my account, I’m curious about how this works.” 

With an exasperated but tolerant sigh, Viktor stepped back. “You have a vast imagination, Jinx, I’m certain you could figure it out. But perhaps there are better uses for your time.” Jinx rolled her eyes and you coughed to cover your choke. Viktor’s eyes sparkled with mirth, and he continued, “Milá was just agreeing to aid me with Vander.”

You didn’t remember agreeing to anything, but best to present a united front, right? 

“Hard to agree when you’ve got a tongue down your throat,” Jinx grumbled, and you resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. “But how can a sparkly mage help anyway?” 

“I’d have to see him first to really get a sense of what I could do. My magic is tied to emotions, so I could potentially connect to his, but my magic is still relatively new, I don’t have the best grasp of its potential,” you answered, stepping forward. “I’d only do it if you want me to try. He’s your father.”

Jinx pursed her lips, considering your words as her vibrant pink eyes darted about the floor. With a huff, she blew her bangs out from her face. “I’ll talk to Vi,” she said at last. “Isha likes you, so you can’t be all bad. I’ll make sure she knows.”

Without further ado, Jinx turned on her heel, sauntering away with a causal “Toodles!” tossed over her shoulder.

You watched Jinx's retreating form, her braids swaying with each step. As her footsteps faded, you turned back to Viktor.

"Well," you sighed, "that was…interesting."

Viktor's lips quirked into a small smile. "Indeed.” And without missing a beat, he added, “Shall we take a walk while we give the girls some time to debate our assistance?”

You took his offered hand, beaming at him. “I would love to.”

Your eyes were drawn to a massive shape hunched in the corner of the greenhouse. Vander - or what used to be Vander - crouched behind a row of leafy ferns. His fur was matted and dull, piercing eyes peering out from the foliage, wary and wild. A low growl rumbled from his throat as you entered. Compared to the last time you saw him, this was a vast improvement - the green of the tank on his back a much more pleasant colour than the vibrant red.

Vi stood protectively in front of him, her stance tense and ready for a fight. Her pink hair was dishevelled, dark circles around her eyes. She was every bit the fiery woman you’d heard her to be, you only wished your visions could have helped her before that haunted look soaked permanently into her features. Jinx lounged on a nearby rock, legs swinging, but her casual posture contradicted the sharpness in her gaze. Little Isha sat cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by a semicircle of multicoloured pebbles she must have taken from the garden beds.

“So,” Vi kicked at the ground, her hands shoved in the pockets of her scuffed-up pants, “you’re the mage that wants to help Vander?”

“Mila,” you corrected gently, “much easier to say than all of that. But yes, I am.” 

“Right,” Vi nodded, eyes darting to Jinx who was pretending not to pay attention, fiddling with the ends of her braids.

You shifted your stance, feeling the weight of Vi's scrutiny. Her eyes, exhausted and wary, bored into you. The greenhouse's humidity clung to your skin, making you acutely aware of every bead of sweat forming on the small of your back.

"So, how exactly does this magic of yours work?" Vi's voice was gruff, laced with skepticism.

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "It's…complicated," you began, your gaze drifting to the sparks that danced around you. They pulsed gently as if encouraging you. "My magic is tied to emotions. It's like a bridge between hearts, I guess."

Vi's eyebrow arched, her lips pursing. "A bridge?"

"Yes," you nodded, warming to the metaphor. "I can sense emotions, sometimes even influence them. It's like reaching out and touching someone's soul, feeling what they feel. Though I’ve only done it a handful of times. It's recently only started to cooperate."

As you spoke, a spark drifted towards Isha. The little girl's eyes widened, her hand reaching out to touch it. The spark danced just beyond her fingertips, casting a soft blue glow on her face.

"I'm still learning," you admitted, watching the interaction and deciding it was best to be honest about your inexperience. "It's not an exact science so I can’t make any promises that it’ll make a difference."

Vi softened slightly, her eyes flickering to Vander's huddled form. "And you think this can help him?"

You nodded, trying to project more confidence than you felt. "If I could reach the part of him that's still him, beneath everything else, maybe - and I want to emphasize the maybe - I can help bring him back."

Vi chewed her lip, her gaze darting between you, Viktor, and Vander. The greenhouse fell silent, save for the gentle rustling of leaves and Vander's occasional growl. Even Jinx had stopped fidgeting, her sharp eyes fixed on her sister.

Finally, Vi's shoulders sagged. "Alright," she said. "You’re the healer,” she nodded her head at Viktor, “if you think it could work, well, we'll take all the help we can get."

A wave of relief washed over you, tinged with nervous anticipation. You prayed you wouldn't let them down, they’d had enough disappointment in their lives already.

With a reassuring nod from Viktor, you slowly made your way toward Vander, your heart hammering against your ribcage with each hesitant step.

Vander tracked your every movement. His massive form tensed as you drew near, muscles rippling beneath matted fur. A low, rumbling growl vibrated through the space, the hair at the nape of your neck standing on end.

When you were just a few feet away, you slowly lowered yourself to one knee. The cool stone seeped through your clothes, grounding you. You took a deep breath, inhaling the rich, earthy scent of the greenhouse. Your sparks danced around you, casting shifting patterns of light across Vander's fur.

"Hello, Vander," you said, barely above a whisper. You smiled, hoping to convey warmth and safety. "You've raised two incredible daughters. Strong, brave, and fiercely loyal. You must be so proud."

At the mention of his daughters, something flickered in Vander's eyes. The growl faded, replaced by a softer rumble. His massive head tilted slightly, regarding you with what might have been curiosity.

Encouraged, you continued, "They love you so much, and they haven’t given up on you. That speaks volumes about the father you were and still are."

Vander's posture relaxed slightly, his shoulders lowering from their defensive hunch. You could feel the shift in the air, the tension easing ever so slightly.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out with your magic. It unfurled from you like tendrils of light, invisible to the others but brilliant in your mind's eye. As your magic touched Vander, a surge of warring emotions crashed over you.

Pain, raw and searing, engulfed you and ripped you apart from the inside out. Your chest constricted, muscles tensing as you fought against the urge to scream. But beneath the physical agony lay a deeper, gnawing anguish that clawed at your insides, threatening to hollow you out.

Grief followed, a bottomless well of sorrow that drowned you. The sound of screams echoed in your ears and the weight of responsibility crushed down on broad shoulders.

You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to breathe through the onslaught. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your hands trembling with the effort of maintaining the connection.

You pushed further, digging deeper. That couldn’t be all there was, there had to be something else beneath, something to keep him going. You felt it then. Love. Pure, fierce, unconditional love. Love for Vi and Jinx, burning bright and unfaltering. Love for Zaun - not just the place, but its people. Vander's pride in the resilience of the Undercity, his admiration for those who carved out lives amidst a sea of injustice.

But these were all just pieces of him, to truly sort through such a complex web… The strands of his emotions writhed and pulsed, each one lashing out to ensnare you. Fear coiled around your ankles like a skeletal hand while rage burned hot against your skin. Despair hung heavy in your lungs, thick and cloying, making it difficult to breathe. Echoes of explosions reverberated in your ears, punctuated by the heart-wrenching cries of children. Your vision blurred with tears - were they yours or Vander's? It was impossible to tell where you ended and he began.

You pulled back, gasping for air as if you'd been underwater. Your lungs burned, and your head spun with lingering echoes of Vander. Sweat trickled down your temples, and your hands shook as you pushed yourself to your feet.

"He’s all tangled up like barbed wire. It's a maze in there." You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself as the world tilted around you. "But I think…I think I might be able to help unravel them. It could make it easier for Viktor to pry his consciousness out of the pain."

You’d seen that glimmer of love within him, and while it was surrounded by horror, there had to be some way to reach it and pull it out without ripping it to shreds.

Vi's eyes lit up with desperate hope, while Jinx leaned forward, her vibrant energy subdued. "You can do that?" Vi asked as though she was afraid of your answer.

You nodded, then immediately regretted it as a wave of dizziness washed over you. Viktor’s hand on your elbow steadied you, and you leaned into his touch. "Maybe," you amended, not wanting to give false hope. "It's not a guarantee, but it's a chance."

“A chance is better than what we had a day ago.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Viktor took the opportunity to cut in. "We will do everything we can to restore Vander," he said, his hand still steady on your elbow. "However, this process will require concentration and a calm environment."

Jinx snorted, twirling one of her braids around her finger. "Yeah, because this greenhouse is such a party central."

Viktor's lips twitched, suppressing a smile. "Nevertheless, Milá and I will need space to work. Perhaps you'd like to explore the commune? There are quite a few fascinating innovations I'm sure you'd appreciate."

Vi nodded, her gaze lingering on Vander, reluctant to part from him. "Right, yeah. We should…we should go." She turned to Jinx and Isha, gesturing towards the door.

Jinx hopped off her perch, stretching languidly. "Ooh, alone time with the boyfriend, huh?" she said, wiggling her eyebrows at you. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Jinx!" Vi hissed, glowering at Jinx. "This isn't the time for-"

"Relax, sis," Jinx laughed, slinging an arm around Vi's shoulders. "I'm just lightening the mood. Come on, let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into out there. Let the magic people do their magic thing."

As they left, Isha trailing behind them with her pebbles clutched in her tiny fists, you turned back to Vander. The massive creature watched you with wary eyes, but there was something else there now - a glimmer of recognition, perhaps even hope.

And you would hold onto that hope as hard as you could.

You spent the next several days immersed in Vander's tangled psyche. Each morning, you and Viktor settled into a rhythm - you'd reach out with your magic, creating a bridge of calm amidst the choppy waves and cries of Vander's emotions, while Viktor carefully probed at his consciousness.

The landscape of Vander's mind was a treacherous terrain. You navigated through dark caverns of despair, their walls slick with grief and mildew. Jagged peaks of rage jutted up suddenly, forcing you to climb hand over foot, your fingers bloodied by the time you reached the summit. Vast deserts of emptiness stretched as far as the eye could see, mirages of hope shimmering on the horizon only to vanish as you drew near.

But there were moments of beauty too. Oases of love, verdant and lush, where memories of Vi and Jinx as children played like a sweet melody. You lingered in these spaces, drawing strength from the pure joy that radiated from them.

As Viktor worked, you often had to soothe Vander. His emotions would flare up like a wounded animal, lashing out in fear and pain. You'd bundle him up in blankets of calm, whispering reassurances that echoed through the chambers of his mind. "It's okay," you'd murmur, your voice carrying the weight of conviction. "You're safe. We're here to help. Your daughters love you, remember that."

Sometimes, the intensity of it all overwhelmed you. You'd emerge from the trance gasping, your body drenched in sweat, trembling from the effort. Viktor would be there, his cool metal hand on your back, grounding you. "Take a moment," he'd say, his lilting voice a balm to your frayed nerves. "You're doing wonderfully."

As the days passed, you began to see progress. The tangled web of emotions began to loosen, threads of coherent thought weaving through the madness. Vander's growls grew less frequent, replaced by moments of lucidity where his eyes would focus, recognition flickering in their depths - and on the odd day, he would speak in short sentences.

You delved deeper and deeper into Vander's mind. The familiar landscape unfolded before you, but something new caught your attention - a pulsing thread of foreign feeling, steady and persistent.

Your curiosity sparked and you followed it, weaving through the intricate network of thoughts and emotions until you brushed against something unexpected - Viktor's presence. You hadn’t come into contact with him while buried deep in Vander’s psyche - as much as you had wanted to. This wasn’t about you and Viktor, this was about Vander. Yet you’d spent so much time moving within Vander’s emotions, wadding through his baser instincts, that they had started to rub off on you, and your ability to catch yourself before pursuing your desires was waning.

His essence was cool and precise, like the edge of a finely honed blade. But there, nestled at its core, was a swirling knot of guilt. It throbbed with a dull, aching constancy, weighing down Viktor's spirit like an anchor.

Pulling yourself towards it, you cradled the knot of guilt in your arms, finding it surprisingly heavy for something intangible. It pulsed against your chest, a living thing made of regret and sorrow. You curled around it, assuming a fetal position on the edge of Vander's mind, feeling the raw emotion seep into your core.

"Viktor," you whispered, your voice echoing through the mental landscape, "what is this?"

You sensed his spirit recoil, like a wounded animal shrinking from a helping hand. The cool precision of his essence wavered, uncertainty bleeding through. Viktor's spirit drifted closer, then further away, indecisive. You longed to reach out, to offer comfort, but the gulf between you felt insurmountable. Instead, you hugged the ball of guilt tighter, as if by shouldering Viktor's burden you could somehow ease his pain.

Slowly, reluctantly, you extricated yourself from Vander's mind. The physical world rushed back, a cacophony of sensations after the ethereal landscape you'd been navigating. You blinked, adjusting to the dim light of the greenhouse.

Vander lay on the ground, his massive form twitching slightly. His ears flicked irritably, the only outward sign that he was aware of your presence. You watched him for a moment, wondering how such a turbulent inner world could be contained in a seemingly peaceful exterior.

Viktor withdrew from Vander's mind with a sharp intake of breath, his multi-coloured eyes snapping open. He stared at you, his face carefully blank, but you could see the tension in the tightness of his jaw, the rigidness of his hands as he clasped them in his lap.

You stood cautiously, your legs wobbly from hours of sitting motionless. The small greenhouse felt thick and oppressive after the vast expanse of Vander's mind. Sweat collected on your forehead, and you wiped it away with a shaky hand. Viktor's gaze never wavered, following your every movement with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

You motioned for him to follow, not trusting yourself to speak. Your feet carried you deeper into the greenhouse, past rows of shimmering plants and budding flowers.

At last, you reached the bench tucked away in the furthest corner. You sat, patting the space beside you. Viktor hesitated, his body language screaming discomfort. After a long moment, he lowered himself onto the bench, perching on the edge as if ready to bolt at any second.

You tried not to think about the last time you'd sat here together, when playful banter had given way to heated touches and breathless sighs. The memory of his lips on your skin, his hands exploring every curve, almost derailing your thoughts. You shoved it aside, focusing on the tense line of Viktor's shoulders, the way his fingers drummed an anxious rhythm on his thigh.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead.

"Viktor," you began, your voice pitched low, "I felt something in there. Something that wasn't Vander's." You paused, searching for the right words. "It was you. Your guilt. It's eating you alive, isn't it?"

Panic flashed in his eyes before he schooled his gaze back into careful neutrality. "I don't know what you mean," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

He had always been rather obstinate about accepting help, but you hadn’t let that stop you from offering it before. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing your hand on his arm. "It's okay," you said. "You can talk to me. You’ve been there for me so many times, let me be here for you."

You watched as emotions warred across his face - fear, shame, longing. He was silent for several beats before he found his voice. "It's Sky," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I see her whenever I am…working." He laughed bitterly. "I know it's not truly her. It can't be. But…"

"But it feels real," you finished for him, well acquainted with how disorienting it can be to be unable to banish a vision you knew to be false.

Viktor nodded, his shoulders slumping. "She's a manifestation of my guilt. My failure. I should have protected her. I should not have been so reckless.”

You squeezed his arm gently, cutting off his spiral of self-recrimination. "You didn’t know that she’d come to the lab so late."

He shook his head vehemently. "You don't understand. If I had been more careful, if I had thought it through—"

“I don’t understand?” You hadn’t meant to cut him off, but you simply couldn’t get past those first three words. “Out of everyone else in this entire world, I may be the only other one who does understand.”

Viktor's eyes widened and he opened his mouth, then closed it again, words failing him. You watched as he struggled, his usual eloquence deserting him in the face of his own oversight.

"I…you're right," he managed. "I apologize. That was incredibly thoughtless of me."

The greenhouse fell silent, save for the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant hum of life outside. A bead of condensation rolled down a nearby leaf, catching the light and scattering it in a tiny rainbow. You focused on it, gathering your thoughts.

"It's okay," you said at last, your voice soft but steady. You turned to face Viktor fully, taking in the lines of exhaustion corroding his features, the way his shoulders hunched as if pressed beneath a mountain. "But you know you aren't alone in this, right? I miss her too."

The words hung in between you, fragile as spun glass. Viktor closed his eyes, his expression twisting with grief so raw it made your heart ache.

You reached out, your fingers intertwining with his. "Sky was like starlight. Brilliant and beautiful and gone too soon. But her light touched so many of us. We all carry a piece of her."

And above all else, you knew those words to be true, felt them resound in your soul.

"I’m afraid I did not know her as well as I should have. Will you tell me?" he asked, barely audible. "Tell me what you remember?"

Talking about Sky came as easily as rain did from heavy clouds - though it did not stop your heart from aching. You spoke of Sky's laughter, how it would bubble up from deep inside her, infectious and bright. You recalled the way she'd furrow her brow when concentrating, her tongue poking out just slightly. You described the feeling of her hugs, fierce and warm, as if she could pour all her love into you through that simple gesture.

As you talked, the tension slowly bled from Viktor's frame. His grip on your hand loosened, though he didn't let go. His forehead smoothed out, and his breathing evened. You could almost see the weight lifting from his shoulders, shared between the two of you now.

When your words finally ran dry, a comfortable silence settled over you both. The greenhouse had grown darker, the setting sun painting the glass walls in shades of orange and pink. A cool breeze whispered through the leaves, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers. You could have sworn you smelled her perfume, floral and clean, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

A memory surfaced, sharp and clear. That first night after Viktor had awoken from his Hexcore-induced slumber, when you'd thought you were hallucinating Sky's ghostly form. Viktor had seen her too. You'd been so caught up in the nervousness of being unwell while navigating the Undercity streets, you'd almost forgotten about that strange, shared moment.

"Wait," you said, sitting up straighter. "When we were walking here after we’d left your childhood house, I saw Sky, and you said you could see her too. I’d almost forgotten it, but…" You trailed off, watching Viktor's face carefully.

His eyes widened in recognition. "I remember," he said softly. "I thought it was a side effect of the Hexcore. Or that I was going mad." He let out a shaky breath. "I still don’t entirely know what it was, if I’m being candid.”

“That thing you carry isn’t Sky, I can feel that much.”

“That’s a relief, I would not wish to imprison her in my mind.”

"It's not her,” you reaffirmed. “But maybe it's a part of her. Something she left behind." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "What if it's not just guilt manifesting? What if it's a gift?"

Viktor's forehead pinched, his thick eyebrows bunching up. "A gift? How could my failure be a gift?"

"Not your failure," you said, shaking your head. "Her legacy. Her drive to help others and make a difference. Maybe she left that with you to carry on."

Viktor was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant. When he spoke, his voice was thick and rough. "I never thought of it that way."

"You’re honouring her memory by helping others. That’s what she wanted above all else; for everyone to be given the tools they needed to thrive, to live peacefully and free from suffering." You leaned against him, wrapping your arm around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. “She’d be so proud of everything you’ve done.”

"She would be proud of you too," he said. "For all you've managed to overcome, the people you've helped."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips as memories flooded your mind. Charlotte's joyful glow as she regaled you with tales of her daughter. Stillwater, where your shield had stood firm against the Vander’s attacks, saving those who’d have been shredded without it. And now Vander himself, his fractured psyche slowly knitting back together under your patient support.

“Yeah,” you smiled, small and bittersweet, “I guess she would be.”

Next Chapter

A/N: Missing my girl Sky :’(

Buckle up everyone, we are getting to the big stuff! Only 4 more chapters left...

[toiletpudding]

HAZBIN HOTEL FANFIC

Adam x Lute ⚠️NSFW⚠️

I did it, I made a thing. 😀

Warnings: sex, a blow job, (light cock and ball torture here, Lute's a biter and Adam's into it,) swearing, Daddy kink, dirty talk, (it's Adam so, I mean, yeah) "What's a clitoris?" -The first man, small drug use mention, both of them are stoned, not much for plot, friends with benefits are what these guys are, Lute gets aroused at the idea of murdering things.

-She was bloodthirsty as fuck in that last episode you guys.

.

.

.

Nothing to do but Fuck, Perform, and Kill:

"-and then the bitch has the nerve to call me a sexist asshole, me! I fuckin' LOVE women, they've got like, a bunch of hot holes to stick your dick into whenever you're bored, and I told her that and she..."

Lute inhaled the smoke from the bong, letting her mind wander as Adam continued to ramble on about his most recent fling. It had hardly been a day on Earth since they had found the body of one of their Exorcists. The idea that a hell spawn could kill one of her kind made her heavenly blood boil. She wanted to find whoever did it and pull their tongue out of their ass. Alas, Adam ordered her to wait, he'd said that in six months they would make sure this kind of thing never happened again. She knew he was right, and that they needed to be careful so that nobody caught on.

But fuuuuuuck was waiting boring. Lute was ready now, she wanted to charge down there and send every demon scurrying like bugs, to feel the excitement that only extermination brought these days. The adrenaline coursing through her golden veins as she pierced her victims' weak little bodies with her spear and listened to their pathetic screams.  Just thinking about it made her-

"Hey, Danger Tits." Lute turned, meeting her boss's scrutinizing gaze.

She straightened, clearing her throat, and ignoring the sudden heat in the pit of her belly. "Yes, Sir?"

"Are you listening?"

Lute nodded, "uh- yes sir, she gave you the bill for dinner."

"Yeah! Like, who the fuck do you think you are bitch, I'm fucking Adam. I shouldn't have to pay the bill-"

The extermination was one of the few things they had left for fun. And now not only was somebody trying to fight back, but Lucifer's brat wanted to redeem demons as a form of population control? It was fucking bullshit. Demons only deserved ,eternal damnation and death, and she deserved to have some fucking fun. The only thing they had left to do after building heaven was fucking, performing, and killing, and nobody was going to take even one of those pleasures away from her.

"Well? Are you gonna or not?" Lute blinked, registering that Adam's face was directly in front of hers. Fuck, the weed was making it hard to focus.

"Uuh, er...Y-yes?" She said, uncertain to what she'd just agreed to.

"Sweet." The large cushy sofa they were both sitting on creaked in protest as the huge angel sank back into it. Leaning against the armrest. He propped one foot up onto the cushion, and let the other rest on Lute's knees. He watched her expectantly, a shit eating grin on his face.

Lute stared at him, "What're you doing?"

Adam's smile dropped, "Pfft, is the pot making you stupid or something? You said you'd help me out."

"Help you with...?"

"The blue balls that dumb skank left me with, c'mon! I'm harder than a rock here! Put that thing down and show me a good time, bitch."

Lute gave him an annoyed look.

"You wouldn't have blue balls if you didn't pick one of heaven's residents"

"Well I thought she looked pretty fuckin' chill, how was I supposed to know she'd have a stick up her cunt...You gonna get my dick wet already or what?"

Lute rolled her eyes, oh well, there were worse things Lute could have said yes to, and it's not like she had anything else to do other than wait for extermination day.

Setting the bong aside Lute turned to Adam, who was smiling again.

"That's the spirit babe, now come to Daddy." A shuddering jolt goes through her, and something clenches in her belly.

Wordlessly, Lute crawled on top of the larger angel, straddling him and looking down. He was gazing up at her with the usual cocky smirk on his face, prominent as ever, even without his mask, "Well? You just gonna stare at me all night? I know I'm good looking as fuck, but c'mooon."

She could feel the eagerness underneath his robes pressing up against her, and through the way he was gripping her hips tightly, fingers kneading into her flesh.

Lute leaned down and pressed her lips against his. Adam returned the kiss, already trying to push his tongue into her mouth, and pulling her tightly against him. Lute's breath stuttered as his hands wandered up to her chest, roughly groping her breasts through her clothes.

"Fuckin nice," he mumbled against her lips, fingers finding her nipples through the fabric and tugging on them. Lute let out a small moan, encouraging him to continue.

She reached up, running her hands through the mess of brown tangles he called hair, forcing her fingers through whenever she felt resistance, enjoying the small grunts of pain he let out and how his groping became a little more erratic. Both of them were breathing hard when they broke the kiss.

"Fuck," Adam panted, rolling his erection into her hard enough that he nearly bucked Lute off. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself, pushing back against his rutting hips, enjoying the sensation of his clothed cock pressing into the heat between her legs.

Lute dipped her head, pressing her lips to the indents of his throat, suckling and biting, she clenched down on a particularly sensitive spot and tugged until his breath was hitching and he was squirming underneath her.

She let go after the skin was red and painful looking, pressing sloppy kisses up his neck and jaw, pulling him in again for another heated make-out session when she reached his lips.

The kiss didn't last long this time, before Adam was pulling away and whispering in her ear where else he wanted her mouth to be.

Never one to disobey an order Lute slid downward, positioning herself between his crossed legs. His erection was straining against his clothes now, ready to pop out like a jack in the box.

After an awkward struggle of shifting his robes out of the way, and with only a little help from Adam, Lute was finally able to pull his dick out from its confines. Despite being the self proclaimed "Dick master," his was relatively average, and only a little on the longer side. Nothing for Lute to complain about though.

Her hand was already sticky with cum, as it dribbled out of the tip of his cock in a steady trickle. Geez, he really was pent up.

Adam nudged her closer with his legs, "Come on come on come on! What're you waiting for bitch? It's not like it's gonna suck itsel- oooh, fuuuck yeeeah."

Without warning Lute took him into her mouth down to the base and held it there. Adam gripped the back of her head, clutching handfuls of her hair tight enough to yank a sizable clump right off of her scalp if he wanted to. His legs trembled and his feet scrabbled for purchase, heels digging into Lute's calves. Lute didn't move for a moment longer, seeing the First Man grovel underneath her always turned her on more than it probably should.

When his hips started twitching forward Lute began to slide her tongue up and down his length smoothly, the acrid and salty flavor of him coating her taste buds overwhelmed her senses completely.

Adam spat out a series of curses when Lute began to bob her head quickly, going down as far as she could until his mushroom cap bumped the back of her throat, and sucking hard when she came up to the tip. The brutal pace she set for him doesn't give Adam a chance to steady himself or even to make a snarky comment, he was completely at her mercy.

The fact that the most powerful Exorcist in heaven, who could incinerate her with a single finger gun pointed in her general direction, could barely even form a coherent word had her rubbing her thighs together in an attempt to give just a little bit of the pooling heat between her legs some attention.

"Don't fuckin stop Lute, don't stop," judging by the way he was thrusting his hips against her face and that his voice was high with excitement, Adam was already on the verge of blowing his load. Lute only moved faster and dragged her tongue across him more.

"Fuck, holy shit," Adam gasped, Lute could feel his hands shaking, "I'm gonna-fuck-" she stopped moving her head, letting him take control, and immediately he was cramming his dick into her mouth as much as he could, chasing after his orgasm, moaning with each thrust and-

And right when he was at his peak Lute bit down. His startled, pained scream was probably loud enough to be heard outside of the room.

"Fuckin, aaah, you crazy bitch. I was about to nut-fuck!" He pulled his dick out of her mouth to inspect it. Beneath the glistening spit and pre-cum covering his shaft, bright red bite marks indented his pale skin. When he saw them he began to laugh.

"Not yet," Lute rasped, she cleared her throat, "You're not done yet."

"Fuuuck," he laughed, "I didn't think I could get any harder, ow by the way."

"Serves you right, sir." Adam grinned darkly and pushed her hair out of her face.

"Do it again." Lute leaned forward and took his dick into her mouth again. His breathy sigh turned into a pain choke when her teeth clenched down, body as tense as a harp string. His hand tightened around the back of her skull. All it would take is one hard squeeze and he could easily crush her head into a pulp. The thought has her biting down a little bit harder.

When she let go Adam deflated underneath her, "You wanna get a facial?" He panted, "'Cause this is a great way to get a shiiiiiit!"

Lute clamped down on his cock again, her eyes on his face the whole time. Watching the way it twisted in pain and pleasure. She couldn't decide which she liked seeing more. Adam's lips were kiss-red and his eyes were closed and he looked absolutely exquisite. Albeit, It wasn't enough for Lute to grant him an easy finish. Not by a long shot.

She let go of his dick, and the moan that came out of him was like rock music to her ears. She crawled up on top of Adam once again; giving him an open-mouthed kiss. He kissed her back with less focus than before, like he was halfway out of his body.

Denied-orgasm Adam didn't last long, soon he was kissing Lute viscously, nipping at her lips hard enough to make her grunt in pain. "You know, you're supposed to help me with my blue balls, not make it worse." He grumbled against her lips.

Lute pulled back and looked him in the eye, both of their gazes were alight with desire. Eyes like glowing torches. "I've got something else for that." She made a show of sliding her fingers underneath the hem of her dress and down the front of her skin tight pants, watching him the entire time.

Adam's grin split across his face and he sat up. "Aw, fuck yes!" Somehow Lute ended up underneath him, a difficult feat when even a couch this size could barely fit Adam.

He reached up, tugging the dress's neckline down to get easier access to her tits. He fondled one of them, his other hand diving between their bodies to drag her pants down far enough that she could wiggle her legs out of them before groping at her crotch.

Lute shoved that hand away immediately. Beside math, the next thing Adam knew absolutely nothing about was the anatomy of a woman, and what Lute didn't need was to feel the stretch and burn as he stuffed his fingers inside of her dry.

Lute shoved that hand away immediately. Beside math, the next thing Adam knew absolutely nothing about was the anatomy of a woman, and the last thing Lute needed was to feel the stretch and burn as he stuffed his fingers inside of her dry.

Lute sucked on her index and middle finger briefly, just enough to get them dripping before sliding them underneath her clothes, nudging her undergarments to the side. Her fingers just barely brushed against her folds and already her breath was hitching. She focused on her clit instead, and it didn't take long before she was able to slide her fingers in with no resistance.

Adam grabbed at her chest while she quickly prepped herself, switching between massaging her breasts to pulling her nipples and twisting them until she moaned.

"Fuck, I love your tits, they're so fuckin soft. You like it when Daddy plays with'em like this, huh bitch?" His dirty talk only served to excite her even more, Lute curled her fingers inside and her thighs tensed.

Her breasts didn't hold Adam's attention long before he was pressing his cock forward, the head grinding against the back of her hand. Lute didn't need to be told twice. She withdrew her fingers and wrapped her legs around the other angel's hips as best she could. Adam sank down onto his elbows, and she was enveloped completely in his robes, her vision nothing but white and gold.

Her back arched as his dick prodded against her hole, before sliding up and brushing her clit. He thrusted, but missed again. "Fuckin-" Adam muttered to himself, reaching down to guide himself inside.

Lute's folds parted for his pole. Even after prepping herself the stretch still made her clit beg for reprieve. Lute's head dropped onto the sofa cushion.

" Oh, shit, " she hissed, words barely audible, as he slipped into her depths.

A strangled noise came from Adam's throat when he bottomed out inside of her, shudders racking his body as the sensation enveloped him. "Fuck, you could keep me warm all night like this," Adam breathed, cock twitching deep inside of her.

Lute jerked and moaned as his dick brushed against a spongy euphoric. It didn't take long before he was thrusting his hips, dragging his shaft out until only the tip remained inside and slamming back in in routine fashion. The way his veins felt, bulging along her inner walls was phenomenal.

She rolled her hips into his impatiently, wanting more, harder, faster. It wasn't until his mushroom cap snagged something particularly good that Lute let out an audible yelp.

Oh yeah, babe?" Adam jeered, aiming for that same spot. "Gonna gush on my cock? Bet it feels fuckin' good. I keep telling you my dick's the best."

He grasped the back of the couch to steady himself and began thrusting into her hard enough to rock the furniture and jostle Lute upwards until the top of her skull bumped against the armrest. The hard juts to her cervix had her head spinning. She whined as she brought her digits down to her aching clit, she grasped at one of her breasts with the other, clumsily groping herself.

"Fuck- gonna fuckin cream you," Adam panted, Lute moaned her agreement.

"Yeah?" He breathed into her ear, "You wannna get stuffed with Daddy's cum?"

His words sent a buzz down to her precious bud and twin peaks. His cock was electric and each burst of energy sent pleasure sparking up her spine. She was going to burst.

Spreading over her form like early sunlight, the orgasm caused Lute's eyes to roll back and her entire torso to tingle. Heat raised to her ears like a bad sunburn. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck! I'm- I'm-" she bit her tongue to fight a louder response, gasping as the pleasure consumed her completely.

Adam didn't stop thrusting, cradling the back of her head in one hand, the other still gripping the couch like a lifeline. He was holding her tighter, moving quicker, breath rattling in his chest, he was getting close.

Lute wrapped her arms around him, groping at his shoulders, his back, his ass, anywhere she could get a decent grip. Fuck she was ready for him to, to-

Adam's voice suddenly grew louder and he moaned with each thrust. Lute gasped as his cum painted her walls, filling her up completely.

"Fuck! Takeittakeittakeit, you fucking slut... !"

His moans broke off into heavy sighs and he gradually took more time between each thrust, slowing and slowing until he stopped altogether and collapsed on top of Lute with a throaty groan.

The only sound in the room after that was their shared breaths, they stayed that way for a while, until Lute eventually began to stir from her prone position underneath Adam. She loosened her grip around him; fingers aching from clutching onto his robe so tightly.

Turning her head so she wouldn't be smothered she wriggled until Adam finally huffed and shifted enough so that he wasn't fully on top of her.

"Aaah, that was good," he sighed dreamily.

Lute couldn't disagree, but the fluids caking her inner thighs was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "Was it necessary to finish inside, sir?"

Adam smiled, spoiled and content. "What can I say, I like usin' that hole as a cum dump."

Lute stared at him flatly, but her boss didn't notice, he was already swinging his head around. "Where'd ya put that bong, I'm starting to even out." He shifted and Lute's entire body jolted.

"Sir."

"Aw c'mon, don't tell me you smoked it all,"

"Sir."

"Oh, wait, nah, we're good."

"Adam."

"What?"

"Your dick is still inside."

"...Oh."

[paper-starz]

What would you say is the most unhealthiest coping mechanism each neighbor has for the self aware au?

OMG HIIII!! I never really thought about that, what a great question!

Barnaby- He copes with jokes but they become self-deprecating and dark after a while. Not only that, but he smokes a LOT more now. He also sleeps too much, but at least one of the neighbors could drag him outta bed!

Eddie- Toxic positivity. The poor guy just wants to see the brighter side of things, but he kinda minimizes the negative aspects. "Oh! My arm got ripped off. Oh well, guess I could lose a few pounds."

Frank- Overworking. Although it is inspiring that he and Eddie already found lots of clues about Welcome Home (and its history), Frank overworks themselves to the point of exhaustion. They are really trying to find a way out, who can blame him? He also barely eats since they are this close to figuring out EVERYTHING. Good thing Eddie's there to make them eat.

Sally- Self-criticism/perfectionism and LOTS of it. SHE's the best actress, SHE's not suppose to get caught nor make any mistakes. She beats herself up constantly, especially if she gets outta character. So, she practices in front of the mirror for HOURS, making sure that she stays in character no matter what. If she messes up, she does the entire thing over again. She barely gets any sleep because of this.

Poppy- Overthinking. She is the one that the neighbors turn to when one of them got hurt, she patches them up as best she can! But, what if they get hurt again? What if you CAN'T fix them this time? This kinds of overthinking makes her a bit of a Mother Hen, constantly watching over the other neighbors and making sure that they stay in character.

Howdy- Denial and avoidance. Poor bug-man tried flat out denying that he was self-aware. Him? In a show? Ridiculous! Of course, that denial soon went away after the first few visits with Home... then that denial turned into avoidance. He stays in his shop most of the time, making everything all nice and perfect. He's in a good mood when the other neighbors come in but as soon as good ole' Wally Darling enters his shop... he freezes. He can't move and he can't breathe and he's this close from screaming at the top of his lungs cause he can't STAND Wally being with him. The other neighbors (usually Sally) try to distract Wally while Howdy tries to pull himself together... or escape through the backdoor. He avoids Wally and Home like the PLAGUE.

Julie- Anger. Julie was never an angry girl, ever! She loved singing and dancing and having fun, but ever since she got self-aware... she got angry. How DARE Home hurt her friends! How DARE someone keep her and her friends trapped here! She gets so angry that she hurts those closest to her... Then she gets even more mad, so mad that she rips her hair out.

Wally- He has no unhealthy coping mechanisms! He doesn't even know what they are!

Home- Oh boy.... The demon house's form of 'coping' is violence. Preferably onto the neighbors. It also has some denial as it doesn't see what its doing as anything bad. It stitched Sally's mouth up because she was trying to tell Wally the truth! It's just protecting Wally! It took Eddie's eye because he accidentally slipped up again, he just needs to know that he can't make Wally upset!

[taffycandyqt]

Ex Purple Dragon with a thing for Casey PT.2

Masterlist

Request Rules

Pt 1.

You and Casey are thick as thieves. Though sometimes Casey is just thick. Everyone else can tell that you only left the dragons because you're udderly in love with him. He's the only one that doesn't seem to get it.

2003 Casey Jones x gn reader

Headcannons

Fluff, crack

Not proofread

After a while of hanging with the gang you realized that there was no way Casey would fall for you as you were.

But at the same time, Splinter's words about not losing yourself also played in your mind.

At this point it wasn't just a crush. You were actually in love with him.

And for the past little while you have been trying to drop hints but he never seemed to get it.

Or maybe it's that he chose not to.

But what did you expect?

Casey may be a bit off his rocker but he's still a good soul.

He had morals, principles, ideals.

You didn't really have any.

Maybe it was time you turned things around. Maybe you should go clean. Casey would definitely see you then!

So began your journey!

It's was difficult not drinking, or smoking ect...

Not just difficult, HORRIBLE.

The chills the, anxiety, the cravings. It sucked.

Not to mention that it made you waaaay more irritable.

How were you supposed to focus on being a "good person" when you wanted to literally kill everyone.

But through it all the turtles, Splinter, April, and most notable Casey supported you the whole time.

They helped distract you when you needed it and provided healthy alternatives like suckers instead of cigarettes. Stuff like that.

Like previously mentioned the other step in your transformation would be to practice some ethics.

To do that, you needed to actually understanding why they actually matter in the first place.

This led you to Donny's doorstep.

He gave you multiple books on the history, reasoning, meaning, and importance of morals and ethics. Along with multiple philosophical books departing the topics.

Safe to say you've been spending a lot of time in. You've been working on yourself so much you hadn't had the time to spend with Casey, April, or the turtles for a while.

And this for some reason, bugged Casey.

Which was stupid cuz you were trying to better yourself! Why would he be mad that your taking the time to do that?

He ended up ranting to April about this multiple times.

At first she thought he just missed his bestie.

But after him whining on her couch while eating her snacks she figured out what what happening.

He had feelings for you. And he REALLY misses you.

At a certain point she just got so done with his shenanigans she told him exactly what he sounded like.

He was in denial.

Like what you you mean I love them? That's ridiculous!

Eventually after stewing with these thoughts and missing you he came to terms with his feelings.

And he was nervous.

You'd been gone for so long, maybe you didn't want to see him. Or anyone for that matter.

So he went to the best person he knew for advice. April.

HER ADVICE SUCKED.

WDYM JUST CALL THEM AND ASK TO MEET UP???

Uhhhhhhggggggg.

But he does cuz what other option does he really have if your not actually there.

So he called you up. And that excited you!

You picked it up more than happy to talk to him.

But when he asked to meet up? Well, you weren't sure.

You weren't your best self yet... You still needed time!

But he was really insistent and who were you too say no?

So you met up with him. You talked about things that you missed when you were gone.

And you excitedly told him everything you've learned.

For once you felt like it was important to have some sort of moral ideal.

Not to mention the philosophy of morals book that Donny lent you kinda gave you an interest in philosophy!

Honestly, Casey was just happy to hear your voice again after so long. You've changed so much yet you were still just as passionate.

After a lot of walking and talking and catching up, you both were about to part ways.

Neither of you wanted to leave the other but you both felt like there was no other choice.

Well almost.

Just as the moment was almost over and left as a memory Casey confessed to you right there.

So fast and so confident you had to ask him to repeat himself just so you could be sure you heard him right.

You did.

All you could wonder though is how? Why? When?

You had only just started your transformation. There's no way he could feel so strongly about you now.

Casey, however, wasn't sure when he started feeling this way. Definitely before you started your whole "changing" thing.

This left you confused. He hated the purple dragons. And for good reason.

Casey didn't smoke, he was a far cry from an alcoholic, and he never approved of your more illegal ventures.

So how could he have fallen for you before now?

The answer to that question would be left a mystery.

After you two traded confessions it left you wondering if anything you did was worth it.

If this is what Splinter meant by, not losing yourself.

But you didn't feel any less like you. If anything you felt better.

You were happier, you had more energy, and you weren't as stressed all the time.

Maybe the reason you did it wasn't the right one, but if you could go back you wouldn't change a thing.

And besides, Casey loved you as you were before, and he loves you now. He's sure to love the person you become as you grow along side him.

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

Uggggg sorry if this one is absolute booty. I really wanted to finish this off but there was so much too it I feel but I REALLY didn't want to make a third part. Sorry if it's rushed or does make sense. I hope y'all like it regardless 🩷

[xxxevilfilms]

The Osaka Bowl | Chapter 6

Info: A dirty fic collection featuring Asuka getting acquainted with some of the Tekken studs and a few gals. Viewer discretion is advised, a lot of these get a little icky.

Summary: After the war between G-Corp and the Tekken Force destroys Tokyo, Hwoarang and Asuka find themselves in an unlikely partnership as they try to survive in war-torn Japan as thieving drifters.

Warnings: Breeding Kink, Implied Teen Pregnancy

Run With Me | Asuka Kazama x Hwoarang

Ao3 Link

Asuka's cheek is smooshed into Hwoarang's back, hair whipping in the wind as dirt and bugs hit the goggles he gave her. She frowns when a bot fly smashes into her left eyeshield and wipes it off on the back of his jacket out of reflex, denim already stained red and brown with blood and motor oil. From a distance, she sees a potential pit stop, a chance for food, and lightly beats her fist on his back to alert him.

“Yeah, yeah,” He responds. “I see it.”

Asuka smiles and remains patient, belly craving ponzu potato chips.

He drives off the freeway and turns into the direction of the pit stop. It's an abandoned gas station, bombed to hell, but still standing. Asuka thinks it stinks of old gasoline and burned shrapnel.

“What do you want?” Hwoarang parks along the curb.

“I want chips.” Asuka lifts the goggles on her face and sets it on her head. “Ponzu... Honey butter if they don't have ‘em.”

“You'll get what I can find, how ‘bout that?” He puts down his kickstand and hops off.

“No downstairs kisses then,” She sticks out her tongue. 

“Liar,” He pokes her nose. Asuka simpers at the touch. “Whatever you want, I'll be back.”

Asuka watches him leave, eyes following the swerve of his rear. She giggles before settling back onto his bike, gaze now focused on the clouds in the sky, floating like cotton along a great blue sea.

She recalls a time when she was no different than a cloud carried by the breeze, wind in her hair, going wherever life took her so long as it was somewhere. Such a life seems so long ago, so distant, and yet it’s barely been a year since she began living like this. She supposes she couldn't complain; she was alive at least, healthier than most people she's seen. She got away from Osaka with only a few scrapes, a broken arm, and a burn on her right shoulder; folks like her father weren't so lucky. He passed away the same night she escaped, orphaning her. She aimlessly wandered what remained of the city until Hwoarang showed up, looking for the man who started this war, but instead took pity on a little girl who bore his name.

Asuka sighs, belly suddenly hurting. If it weren't for him Hwoarang wouldn't have found her, but she can't help but feel resentful of him, whoever he is.

“I wish I was a cloud...”

Asuka watches her clouds and keeps an eye out for fellow drifters until Hwoarang walks out of the store. In his hands were Asuka’s snacks as well as some candies and lukewarm drinks. Asuka bounds off the motorcycle to retrieve her chips and whatever else Hwoarang had.

“Thank you~” Suddenly her belly didn’t hurt anymore.

“Of course,” He shoves what he doesn’t wanna carry in his bag before cracking open a can of beer. “You really love those things, huh? You've been eating them like crazy.”

“I just like ‘em, I guess.” She shrugs and tears the bag open, unwilling to elaborate. “Let’s sit down.”

Hwoarang pops a squat on the sidewalk as he sips at his beer. Asuka follows suit and sits between his legs, munching her chips like a starving child as she stares at the highway. As always, it's quiet save for the sound of a very distant air raid siren. Asuka thinks it’s a good thing; the last time they saw another human, she almost got robbed and things didn’t end too well for him when Hwoarang intervened.

“There should be a motel about twenty miles that way.” Hwoarang points to the right. A plume of smoke rises from the horizon. “We’ll bunker down there for a few days.”

“Are we still going to Okinawa?”

“For now.” He drinks again. “Not crawling with G-Corp goons.”

“Sucks that we can't go to Hokkaido anymore...”

“Fuckin’ Zaibatsu...” 

“Well, I guess it's no big deal...” She swallows a lump of chewed up potatoes. “I always wanted to work on my tan...”

“Look sexy with one,” He laughs. “Ever think about dyeing your hair, too?”

“Uhh... Kinda?” She twirls a chocolate-brown lock. “I always loved highlights more. I think blonde would look cute on me~”

“You’d make a cute beach bunny.”

“Heeentai...”

Hwoarang sniggers, causing Asuka to do the same. 

Hokkaido, their initial destination, was safe up until a week ago; when G-Corp troops seized control of it from the government. Rumour has it that Okinawa was safe, one of the last prefectures spared from martial law and Tekken Force control. The American naval base did a great job securing the area it seemed and have been shipping refugees to foreign countries for safety. Hwoarang had plans to get them to a ship that would take them to South Korea so they could stay with Hwoarang's former master.

“We should go,” He scoots away from her to stand up. “Before something happens.”

“Haaaai,” Asuka does the same and skips to the motorcycle. “Do you think your master will like me?”

“We share a type, he’ll like you fine.” He climbs one and waits for Asuka to cling on to him. “He loves big tits.”

“Dirty old man...” Asuka smirks as she grabs the decorated goggles resting on her head, finger smoothing over a Sanrio sticker. “C’mon, I'm getting tired.”

“Yes ma'am,”

Hwoarang starts the bike and drives off, making a beeline down the highway.

It's nearly nighttime when they check into the motel, a shabby, cheap little room that was just barely clean enough for their comfort. Too tired to complain, the couple shower and settle in for the night and try to relax, or at least Hwoarang does. He's lying in bed watching TV with a smoke in his mouth while Asuka stands naked in a dusty mirror, examining her figure. She smooths her hands down big breasts and wide hips as she glares at her stomach, an area of concern she's recently been agonizing over.

Hwoarang notices her behavior but doesn't complain.

“Man, you gotta big ass.” He blurts out.

Asuka scoffs. “It'd probably be smaller if I wasn't so fat...”

“The hell are you talking about?” He raises a brow. “Ya look fine to me.”

“I think I'm gaining weight...” She complains as she touches her stomach. “I dunno... Feels like my belly is getting bigger.”

“Not gonna stop me from fucking you.” He ashes his cigarette in an empty beer can. “You're getting curves, so what?”

“Fachan...” Asuka whines. “It's not about that...”

“Then what is it?”

Asuka has her concerns, knows that they're not putting in an effort to have safer sex. It was very easy to blame the junk food that she's been gorging on lately, but she knew better than to do that.

“I haven't had my period in a while...”

Hwoarang is quiet, but she can see him in the mirror, eyes dancing between his cigarette and her figure as he puts two and two together.

“So...” He sits up. “You knocked up?”

“I...I could be, I don't...” She turns to him, fiddles with her fingers. “Would you be mad?”

“I'm not mad. Just means we should get to Okinawa sooner than we thought.” He then looks at her. “You'd wanna keep it, yeah?”

“If I could.” She walks back to bed and sits on the foot of it. “Are you sure you're not mad?”

“Can't get mad at nature, baby,” He finally puts his tab out in the can. “I hate condoms, you can't get on a pill, was gonna happen eventually.”

Asuka is silent for a time, a sudden fear welling in her heart.

“When we reach South Korea... You’re not dumping me with your master, are you?” She asks. “To go find...him?”

She feels two big arms pull her into a crushing hug. Asuka grunts but accepts his touch gratefully.

“Don't be so fucking stupid.” He growls. “You're pregnant. Whatever beef I have with that asshole is second to you.” He holds her tighter. “I'm not abandoning you.”

Asuka closes her eyes and breathes in his scent, content with his answer. 

“Thank you...” She sighs.

“I'm not leaving you, doll,” He kisses her hair. “Only pussy in the world I can count on right now.”

“Even when I'm fat and pregnant, you wanna fuck me?”

“I'd rather you be fat than skinny. Skinny bitches got nothing to grab.” He places his hand on her swelling stomach and squeezes lightly. “Got a body like a coke bottle already, can't imagine how fat your tits and ass are gonna get with a baby in you.” He then touches the meat of her backside and smacks it playfully. Asuka shudders in response. “You're gonna be a sexy little mama.”

“F-Fachan,” Asuka giggles at his enthusiasm, suddenly feeling happier about their situation than she did before. “I didn't know you'd be that excited about it~”

“It's a pretty hot thought,” Hwoarang cups her breasts, holds them up against Asuka's chest to flick dusty nipples with his fingers. “Nice big fat milky tits,” He pinches them, pulls them taut to make her whine. “Gonna make it hurt real good when I suck on them.”

“Y-You’re into that, huh?”

“I guess I am,” He's bouncing her tits in his hands now, entranced by jiggling flesh and rippling skin. “Wouldn't have enough to feed the damn brat once I'm done with you.”

“Ah… I don't want you taking that much,” She plays into the fantasy, arching her back to get him to do more to her. “What am I gonna feed him when–!”

Hwoarang takes her to the bed, gives her a devious look when he climbs on top of her.

“Guess you're bottle feeding then because I ain't sharing, not when they're this fucking big,” Hwoarang holds her tits together, lips pulled into a tight smirk when he opens his mouth. “This fucking perfect.”

Asuka sucks in a breath, both tits suddenly taken into Hwoarang's mouth. He rolls his tongue up and over fading areola and stiff nipples as wandering hands knead and toy with her breasts. Hwoarang refuses to break eye contact with her, watching her eyelids flutter like butterfly wings as he pretends to take milk from her. He sucks about as hard as she imagines he would if she were actually pregnant, belly big and full with their child as he wrestles her into the bed, humping a rigid cock into her pussy as he drank his fill of her. Her breasts would be so sore and tender after he's done with her, littered with bright red teeth marks and hickeys that Hwoarang would love to kiss and lick at as he bounced her in his lap. It's so lurid and so, so dirty to think about but she can't help it and neither can he.

“Fuck...” Hwoarang spits out her breasts, tongue now swirling around a swollen nipple. “You taste so fuckin sweet, baby girl...”

“You're greedy, Fachan...” Asuka mewls, thrusting her hips against his chest. “You're gonna milk me dry~”

“Oh baby,” He kisses along the curve of her tit while his hand moves down, down to where she needs him the most. “That's never gonna happen if I'm around.”

“W-Why--” Asuka gasps, suddenly plunged by two fingers that aggressively pump her cunt. “Ah, Fachan, why’s that...?”

“Cuz this won't be the last one,” He meets her gaze as he scales her figure. “I'll keep fuckin’ you, fuckin’ this pretty pussy,” A twist and a drag over her g-spot gets her wincing. “Knocking you up, making you a mommy,” Another finger, they go deeper this time, as far as they can reach. “Watching this fat belly get fatter...” He wriggles them up and down, side to side, bringing strings of slick with him with each pump of his hand. “Until you can't give me any, when I'm good and fuckin’ ready to stop.”

“Hwoarang...” Asuka's eyes cross, pussy close to coming, but she doesn't want it, not yet. “Please, Hwoarang, fuck me, hurry...”

“Yeah? You want this dick?” He kneels between her legs, grinning like a devil as he holds a foot-long, uncut cock above her sex. It's rock hard and framed by shocks of dark wiry hair. “Want me to breed you again, baby doll? Give you another one?”

“Yes, yes,” She wraps her legs around his waist, licks her lips. “Fuck me, fuck another baby in me, daddy. I need it...”

“Oh yeah, I hear you, baby...” Hwoarang holds her hips still, teeth chewing into his lip as he angles himself. “I hear you loud and clear.”

Asuka nearly cries when Hwoarang pushes in, slides against her walls, filling her with a girth that measures his wrist. It's so big, so fucking thick; she should feel grateful that such a mighty, hefty thing bred her so well, made her fit to be a mommy.

“So tight, fucking hell...” Hwoarang is slow, yet thoughtful once he fucks her, savoring the hold she had on his shaft, balls tightly drawn as they bounce against her ass. “Got me so fuckin’ horny for you, Asu, holy fuck...” He narrows his eyes, slaps his hand on her hip like a slut. “Gonna make you cum on my cock, make this cunt squirt,” He focuses on her breasts again. Hanging low on her body, sagging ever so slightly from rapid endowment, Hwoarang makes them bounce and jiggle, ripple and wobble along a slender chest by fucking her faster than he did before. Asuka yips and holds onto Hwoarang's sides, crying and gibbering like their unborn child would do. He smacks her again and then lifts her thighs to use it like a toy, treating it like a means to an end. He's gonna knock her up again, and if she isn't knocked up, he'll just top her off, finish the job and fuck her every day with his stud cock until she's finally with child.

“Love how hot, how sweet this little pussy is...” His hips knock her pelvis, pinking her skin, ass smacked red from swollen balls. “Want me to come that bad? This slutty pussy can't get enough of it?”

“Please, daddy, please knock me up...” She cries, holds her bouncing tits to pinch her nipples. “Fuck me, make me a mommy, I want it so bad...!”

“Fuck yes, baby, lemme beat it up...” Hwoarang topples over, forces her legs against his shoulders so he can pound down into her hole, folding her in half. Asuka wheezes but doesn't complain, too out of her mind from sex and attention to talk back. “Lemme beat this little pussy up...” He sacrifices speed for power, skin spanking skin as he hammers the flat end of his cock into her womb one thrust at a time. He holds her tight and smothers her with his breath when he kisses her. It's enough to make Asuka come, come so hard that she soils Hwoarang in sweet hot cunt juice. He practically bathes his cock in it, shoving his face into her neck when the thrum in his loins get too much to take.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...!” He's so noisy when he's fucking her. Asuka loves it. “Take it baby, take it...!” She feels warmth, delicious warmth that blooms in her quim and ends at her womb. Asuka moans while Hwoarang pants, rocking his cock into her hole to wring out his balls. 

“Fachaaan... You gave me so much...” Asuka clutches his shoulders, kisses his chin and neck. “Such a manly, studly cock~”

“All for you, baby,” He huffs, wipes the sweat off his brow. “I'd do anything for you, I don't give a shit what it is.” He kisses her deeply then, thumb steadying her chin so he could cover her in love bites. “Fuck it, get pregnant, baby, make me a daddy...” A lingering peck filled with spit that he leaves on her lips makes her shiver. “Be such a cute, sexy little mama.”

Asuka revels in Hwoarang's words, delighted by his excitement, by his dedication to her. She can only pray that his master has room for three.

[desertpersephone]

Writing Patterns

tagged by no one, I just wanted to do it.

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

blue swallow motel, room 14, 7pm. hope to see you there, secret agent.

M, 3k, marmalade | bathing/washing, conversations

“So what was real?” Steam swirled around the tiny bathroom, and Otis’ toes curled into the fuzzy bath mat thrown down on tile that maybe at one point was white. Now the grout was gray and the tiles were tan and the bathmat was that old kind. The kind grannies have, the itchy kind, and he figured whoever had picked it must have thought it made the bathroom look homey.

He Peels An Orange And I Eat The Fruit On My Knees

E, 7.3k, steddie | valentines exchange, baker steve

There was something special about the early morning. It was quiet, but not quiet in the way that the evening was quiet, not quiet in the way an empty house was quiet. It was its very own kind of quiet. Almost peaceful, hazy and glowing with pre-dawn light. It had some kind of liminal feeling, both day and night or sleep and wakefulness. It was special. Except that waking up early also sucked absolute balls.

syrup sweet and lonesome

E, 17k, steddie | christmas exchange, subspace

The distant sound of cars echoed into the alley, and the frigid air of Indianapolis in the winter started to soak into his bones like cheap brandy. Steve kind of wished he had some cheap brandy to chase it away, to stoke the dying heat in his chest. With brick of questionable cleanness and graffiti against his back, Steve puffed out a lungful of smoke and stared at the phone in his hand again.

I had a feeling that I belonged. I had a feeling I could be someone.

E, 3k, 9-1-1 | eddie diaz character study, fatherhood

The day she tells him feels like the worst day of his life. Something forms in his chest. Tight. Maybe it's the worst day of their lives. She's supposed to go to college, got in at UT in Austin, and the fall semester starts in just a few weeks, and Eddie was going to put some hours in at his dad's company, and then he was going to move to Austin to be with her in a year, and they were going to start their lives — and now Shannon was telling him she was pregnant.

add salt to taste

T, 1.5k, 1/?, steddie | personal chef steve, rockstar eddie

The kitchen was so much quieter than the ones Steve had worked in before. There was no yelling, no work chatter, no fryer, no vents, no water boiling over. The only sizzling came from the one pan he had on the front burner, hot oil welcoming as he lay a nice fillet of catfish skin side down. He could feel eyes on his back, monitoring his process, making sure he actually knew what the fuck he was doing.

we're here tonight, and that's enough

G, 3.5k, steddie | christmas exchange, hard of hearing steve, steddie as dads

Snow fell outside, dimly visible as it reflected the streetlights, the heavy blanket of quiet already starting to enrapture the neighborhood. Eddie always swore he could hear it, when it was landing thick and soft on Steve’s rose bushes under the front window, or on the steps he would shovel for his husband in the morning, or on the plastic slide of the backyard play structure. But right now all he could hear was the quiet Christmas music coming from the living room stereo, echoing gently through the warm house.

Becoming. . .

G, 1.3k, stranger things | spiderman orgin story, spider!steve

Steve Harrington had never liked spiders. Of all the bugs in the world, they were the worst. He didn't really like any bugs — maybe rolly pollies or butterflies, but most of the rest? Awful. And spiders gave him the heebeejeebees.

THESE HANDS ARE GROWING COLD THEY'RE RUNNING OUT OF THINGS TO HOLD

G, 1.8k, stranger things | steve harrington character study, crochet, grief

Steve was intimately familiar with the emergency room at Hawkins Memorial by now. Even more familiar with the long, quiet halls of the nuero wing, with its big, private rooms. The rest of the hospital he knew from growing up there, being relegated to the doctors' lounge or the surgical waiting room when his parents couldn't find a babysitter, or when his mom was supposed to be off work and instead came to loiter around the hospital in hopes of snagging a new case.

rotting like a wreck on the ocean floor

T, 2.7k, 2/7, steddie | merman steve harrington, modern au

The beach after a storm was the best place in the world. There was a strange quiet to the sand and the mystery of what had been blown ashore; logs and ropes, chunks of debris lost at sea, shells and bottles and moon jellies. Eddie had developed quite a fondness for the beach after a storm, to the point that he would get up while his uncle was still sleeping to walk down the short trek to the beach and poke around. Sometimes he would find treasures -- and sometimes he would find trash.

i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me

M, 3.3k, the witcher | original character backstory, wounds and amputation

Oberyn hated taking monster contracts. He had always found that there was never enough coin on the other side, and more often than not they were either far too easy — and thusly boring — or too much effort for that little bit of coin. Humans just wanted him to be an exterminator, to come in and clean up their pests, with no understanding of the training that went in to being a witcher.

God I really like to Set the Scene don't I? I like people to Feel where we're meeting our characters before actually being introduced to the plot. Even in my smutty oneshots am taking you on a visual journey. Or I try at least.

[courtenaywrites]

when the fat girl becomes a scapegoat for her own death

I was as thin as a board as a kid, and I didn’t even pay attention to it. It wasn’t on my radar at all. All I knew was that I didn’t think I was pretty, and I hated that everyone else seemed to hate me, which in turn made me loathe myself even more. They’d kick me when I wasn’t looking. They would tell me I couldn’t join in with their games, and I would run to the corner of the playground and sob.

As I got older, and when the hormones had kicked in, I discovered what it meant to be uncomfortable in your own skin. I wasn’t a skinny girl feeding into heroin chic, I was a growing girl who had no interest in the things other girls were. Boys felt like bugs, and I just wanted a man who could entertain my interests in Shakespeare and Sylvia Plath without asking stupid questions like: “What are you? A nerd?”

I remember all the fashion magazines that would highlight (in red) areas on a celebrity’s body in where they had gained weight. Yet, when said celebrity would see the headline, they would lose all the weight, and the magazine would feel vindicated in the process. They would even go so far as to ask them for diet tips.

When I was in high school (from 2008 onwards), gossip and fashion magazines were still in their prime. My mother used to buy Closer and OK, and inside of those glossy pages were hoards of damaging statements.

In 2023, we think we have moved on, but I see the same mentality over and over again. Whenever a newspaper reports on the supposed obesity ‘crisis’, every person who struggles with their weight rolls their eyes. This kind of language reinforces the idea that being larger makes you a problem.

I recently went to the Doctor about a heart problem, and despite me explicitly stating that this had come on after a chest infection, he began talking about my body unprompted. He spoke of how “a greater body mass puts strain on the heart,” and would absolutely not listen to my concerns. In his mind, the only reason for the problem that developed after an infection is that I’m too fat. After my appointment, I saw a nurse from the surgery smoking outside.

This is a common experience. Before this, I visited a different Doctor for an issue with my periods that has been happening for fifteen years. She told me that all my symptoms were because I am fat, and all that I needed to do was lose weight and I would be fine.

Online isn’t far from this same reality as every celebrity who is criticised for being overweight seems to succumb to the pressure and returns to debut their new ‘look’. Most recently, Billie Eilish talked about her weight in a way that places her previous body in a glass cage.

Adele was fairly hostile about how people reacted to her weight loss, failing to understand what that does for representation. Formerly larger celebrities seem to treat their former selves with disdain, thus feeding into the toxic skinny mentality of the world.

I can’t escape it. When I step out my door, I am faced with gyms, people talking about the gym, diet tips, adverts for Weight Watchers, runners, walkers, cyclists, and more. The world is obsessed. No conversation can be had without someone mentioning working out or starting a diet.

It might not have been so bad if I wasn’t dismissed by Doctors because I am larger. I could be dying, but all they see is the body they have been trained to hate. When a fat person comes to their office, their glasses steam up and all they see is a scapegoat.

I am tired of waking up every day and feeling like a stranger in my own body. A ‘beautiful’ home can hide many faults. We don’t fit into eras. We are not coquettes in the pockets of men. We are not Didion-esque girls who find ourselves at a bus stop with nowhere to go, only to be offered a nice place to stay.

We are told to stop eating. We are told to “make healthier choices” such as having sugar-free frosting on your birthday cake that ends up giving you diarrhoea. Instead of celebrating, you end up staring at the cake like it’s a loaded gun.

TikTokers post videos of “gut healthy” cookies with probiotic-enriched ice cream sandwiched between them. Everything good in our world has been tainted by our obsession with frailty because Sam Levinson’s ‘The Idol’ wouldn’t work if Lily-Rose Depp was a size 20, right?

…No. Her breakdown on the stage in her blood-stained heels would be seen as piggish because it’s obviously her weight stopping her from performing, and look at the snot running down her fat face. Her mother hitting her with a hairbrush is accepted because she shouldn’t have let herself get so fat.

When my mother reads the eulogy at my funeral, they will only remember how the pallbearers struggled to lift my coffin. “Couldn’t they have chopped her up?” they’ll say from the pews while my mother talks of what I did outside of what I looked like.

Remember all of this when I am lying on the slab in a morgue and they are marking my death down as justice served.

[despair-to-future-arcs]

Is everyone ready?

MIAYA: So Himena acted as your friend and force you to do things? I'm sorry you had to deal with that.

I-It's fine, besides she really was the only friend I had and ev-even then, i-it's not like anyone else wanted to be my friend af-after everyone learn of what that women does...

MIAYA: And she mention she's the one that reveal that information?

Ye-Yes, I don't know how she found out but she did and I'm not sure why she became so mean, I st-still don't know...

MIAYA: Well... I suppose some people don't have a reason to do that and it does seem like you never had the best frame of reference...

——————————————————————–

MIKAN’S EVENTS OF TRAUMA:

Home:

Splashed with water: Date - March 20th, 2000 Description - After trying to find clothes, a women walk by noticing me and ask what I was doing; after explaining the situation - she walk me over to her home and gave me her son’s clothes to use which were bigger then me. When I got home, mom was with a costumer but when she saw me - she drag me back into my room and told me to stay, after I ask to wash myself off, she dumped cold water on me and told me to stay; she even say to use the bucket for the bathroom which after that I try to warm myself up.

Smeared with mud: Date - March 20th, 2000 Description - I ask my mom who is a prostitute to get some clothes but she refuse to pay, she drag me outside while it was raining and threw me out which lead to me getting mud on myself. She told me to go dumpster diving or steal it then close the door.

Getting burned with cigarettes: Date - April 30th, 2003 Description - I was in the infirmary and learn how to deal with burnt marks from the nurse who was treating a boy, after I got home mom was dealing with a drunk costumer who smoked. As I was leaving the room, the man confused my arm for an ash tray and I scream as I rush to take care of my arm, seems the man felt bad for it but my focus was on the arm and my mom blame me for it.

Stripped: Date - May 12th, 2007 Description - When I turn 13 years old, I got home from school and my mom wanted to me to help with 2 costumers looking for a 4 way, I didn’t have any experience with sex and was scared but went along with it as soon as my mom force me into it; we were about to start but then the couple realize that I was a minor and refuse to have sex. Mom blame me for ruining it, but I knew that I wanted to leave.

Elementary School:

Cut my hair: Date - April 25th, 2000 Description - I was late for class and a girl named Ami was advise by the teacher to throw the gum away, which then she stuck gum in my hair - after the teacher found out; she took Ami out and as student mutter to themselves, a girl who wanted to get talent in being a hairstylist decided to cut my hair and it ended up cut really bad despite me wanting to wait for the teacher.

Draw on me: Date - July 4th, 2004 Description - I fell asleep and suddenly woke up seeing the teacher yelling at a boy and girl, it looks like a boy told on them which then they reveal that I had mark on me which freak me out. The teacher help me clean it up but the

Eat bugs: Date - February 12th, 2007 Description - At lunchtime, I was getting food that the school provided and got a tray but due to mom not feeding leftovers I was really hungry and ate the whole bowl, however the same boy discover that there were maggots in the soup - he promise to get me a new bowl after I told him what happen.

Imitate animal noises: Date - February 12th, 2007 Description - When that happen, some other kids came over and say that since I ate the maggots; they ask me to make animal noises, it went from a chicken, a cow to a pig - I started to wonder if this type of attention was good or not since they seem to be having fun.

Middle School:

Dart games: Date - May 12th, 2007 Description - During a trip to Shinjuka, me along with Himena and 2 other girls stop by a billards bar called 'The Bagus' which was a billards place, Himena force me to set up the table while I was ask to sit out then they play darts with me as the target, but after that she took a selfie of me and gave a present.

Debts: Date - Description -

Beaten up: Date - Description -

——————————————————————–

MIAYA: At least after this, this might help you organize your trauma which the next one are the last 2...

Ri-Right, those happen near the end of our first year...

[doyoulike-whatyousee]

Decided to make a list of things I’m allowed to do now, since 2019 I haven’t been allowed to do many things, i didn’t try fighting against her rules until about 2 years ago, so the time frame of how long it took me to convince her is outside of the time I followed her rules without fight. So about 3 years of following these things, and max two years of trying to fight her on them.

Things I am now allowed to do:

Not spend 24/7 by her side: took 2 years. I get about 4hrs to myself. And only because she’s asleep.

Smoke on my own: 2 years. Only once a day. Twice if I can sneak a second one in before she wakes up.

Not eat with her: 2 years. And I can only decline like once a week before she gets upset.

Sleep on my own: a few months. this one was quick to happen, but she took her anger about it out on me for a year. Now I get three ish nights alone.

Go to bed when I want: 2 years. But for like a half hour to an hour while I’m trying to go to sleep she constantly bugs me. Like showing me tiktoks or talking or asking me if I want something to eat or just whining about how she’ll miss me and stuff. I still can’t nap very often though.

Decline smoking with her: 1 year. But I have to have a reason, medical related. And max twice a week.

Leave the house with a family member without her: 2 years, still scary to do. She hates it.

Things I’m kinda allowed:

Friends if they’re also hers: But also she doesn’t want to share friendships. But also I can be friends with her friends but also no but also yes and Jesus, can she just make up her mind ?

Things I definitely cannot do and will never be allowed:

Leave the house on my own or with friends: unless it’s to meet her at the bus stop. But that’s a five minute walk.

Miss “420”: this one is actually so annoying. She insists we smoke at 4:20pm every day, and am if we’re awake, she very much gets pissed off about this one if it’s missed.

Have another partner: we are technically polyamorous and in a polyam relationship but I would never date someone while dating her since that would just hurt them and she doesn’t even allow me to have a friend because of jealously and fear of me abandoning her, how am I supposed to date?

[johnwickluva]

A John Thanksgiving.

Words: 3176

John Wick x sibling! reader

Summary: Helen really wants John to invite some family over for Thanksgiving dinner with her family. Hard part is John doesn’t have any family, but he does have you and that’s the closest thing he’s got.

Warnings: weed smoking lol

John and Helen had been married for two years now. He had never been happier. Everything felt so perfect, so normal, so domestic. His wife knew little about his life before her but she still knew he was an ex assassin. It had taken a while for him to tell her but how could he not when they were planning their wedding.

Helen took it much better than expected, though she was mad he waited six months before the wedding. Her family, they were very judgemental. No matter how hard he tried John didn’t feel like he could be good enough in their eyes. He didn’t really care but family was important for her so he tried.

Thanksgiving was coming up and this year the two of them decided to host again. Last year, her family had made remarks on the lack of family on John’s side but he shut them down by saying they were busy. That was a lie. He didn’t have any family, not any he’d like them to meet at least. Yet Helen had asked once more,

“Are you sure? No friends or family you’d want to invite over?” She was careful with her words, John was a solitary man but he thought for her.

“I suppose there may be two people I could invite..” he scratched at his beard.

The way her eyes lit up made his heart soar. There was no way he could get out of this one.

That led him to where he was now. Old ass notebook with numbers important to him in it laid on his worktable. He hadn’t needed it since he retired but some people were in it he thought he’d ask. Those two people were you and Marcus. His two ‘best friends’ as Helen had put it after he explained your relationship.

Marcus was John’s first choice as he had met Helen at their wedding. He’d said yes the minute the words left the ex assassins mouth. A thanksgiving dinner at the wicks house? Now that was just too hard to pass up. The sniper asked his friend if he planned to invite anyone else and when he tossed the idea of inviting you, Marcus busted out with laughter.

“That’s a great idea!”

So here he was, dialing your number on his old rotary phone. It rang and rang to the point he thought you weren’t going to answer. He did feel a bit disappointed, it would be nice to see you and Helen would love to meet you again. Right as he was going to hang up when he heard you answer.

“Oh my God am I dreaming? Fuck you asshole! It’s been so long you haven’t called in months!” You shouted over the phone though he knew you were playing.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been busy.” He grimaced over the phone, “I, uh, Helen wanted me to ask if you’d like to come to our thanksgiving dinner this year.”

John could hear you as you shuffled around on the phone and then the sound of papers being flipped. He rolled his eyes. You weren’t doing anything, he knew it. His foot tapped as you made him more and more impatient. He knew if you could see him you’d have a shit eating grin on your face.

“Hmmmmmmm.” You exaggerated,” I guess I could come. A little upset that it’s Helen who wants me to come and not even my own big brother though.”

The two of you weren’t brother and sister. He was starting to regret asking you. You were ten years younger than him, a baby found outside in the alleyway. People always made jokes that you two were like siblings and it was true. You teased him like crazy and he kept you out of trouble. When you were ten and he was twenty you’d bug him like an annoying little sister.

John’s punishments when he’d mess up or do something that pissed off The Director, were to help the younger kids learn to fight and shoot guns. You of course were a part of that group and although you annoyed the shit out of him, he was always softer with you. Even when you were fifteen and bit his leg.

“Please be normal. Her family doesn’t know, they are a bit-“ Pretentious, egotistical, snobby, stupid fucking assholes, “Judgy?” He was trying to be nice.

“HA! Me? Not normal, yeah right. See you on turkey day Johnny!”

You hung up and John stood there for a moment. This was a big mistake. Any other day he wouldn’t care. If it was a normal dinner that would be fine but he was really starting to think of the consequences of inviting you to a holiday dinner with Helen’s family. He took a deep breath.

Shit.

Helen, of course, was ecstatic to hear you were coming. You’d met her once and it was at their wedding. She thought you were hilarious and fun but her favorite part was when you’d share stupid stories about her husband. It was nice to hear about his youth as he was very private, only sharing what he thought was necessary.

She herself wished her family wasn’t so rude but she had hope that they would soften up someday. The long haired woman was hard at work in the kitchen with John as her helper. He was a very sweet husband who demanded she let him help. If she asked he would do it all himself. He kissed her cheek as he moved to get the turkey out of the oven.

Marcus was the first one to show up and was leaning against the kitchen island with a glass of wine in his hand. People were starting to arrive. John was thankful his mentor was good with people, already charming multiple of Helen’s female relatives. Everyone was intrigued by him, their in-laws' mysterious friend..

Then he heard it. John and Marcus locked eyes with each other. His friend smirked as your booming bass approached his home. Helen looked up wondering what that noise was but based on her husband’s face she knew exactly who it was. He should have invited Jimmy.

Before he knew it you were letting yourself in. Dressed in a sports jersey, sweatpants and a huge oversized zip up hoodie you called out for him.

“Hello! Jonathan, I'm here the party can officially start!” You belted out while shutting the door behind you.

When you turned to greet him you saw everyone staring at you. They were dressed in suits and dresses. Your mouth was agape. You were always super expressive and sometimes it got you in trouble. About to ask if you were in the wrong house John and Helen ran to greet you.

She was shocked as you grabbed her shoulders and left two big kisses on both cheeks. Then you hugged John hello while also scolding him for not telling you there was a specific attire, not that you cared. They introduced you to everyone before you found Marcus. He looked dashing as ever and you told him so.

Things were going very well so far. Helen’s family questioned you about your profession, finding it very odd when you told them you were a doctor. They believed a doctor would hold themselves to higher standards but you just laughed it off because you were the best of the best.

You didn’t get to see much of John as he was busy following his wife around, hosting the holiday. Your elbow hit Marcus’s arm. He looked at you and chuckled knowing exactly what you were hinting at. Your old friend looked so uncomfortable, not that anyone but you and the man next to you could tell. He leaned down so you could hear him.

“Like a lost puppy, look at him..” He shook his head and smirked.

“I want to say it’s sickening but, I actually find it pretty endearing. She’s a very nice woman.” You watched them.

“That she is, sweet too.” He agreed.

The two of you continued to catch up until the socializing became too much. You excused yourself and went out back to smoke. There would be no way you’d get through this without it. Although you hadn’t ever been to their house you made yourself at home. The cool breeze was welcoming compared to the stuffiness inside. You pulled the pre rolled joint out of your pocket and right as you were about to light it you heard someone clear their throat.

It was Helen. You felt a bit bad because you did pull out drugs on her property but she surprised you by sitting down across from you. She seemed a bit stressed but still smiled at you. You almost had the wind knocked out of you when she asked if you would share. In a way you felt guilty like you were a bad influence on the good kid but she was older than you and you were always told to respect your elders.

You lit the joint, taking the first hit and then handed it to her. She took a small hit and started coughing. You handed her your water and she took a sip before laughing. Your hand brought the joint up to your lip to take another inhale. This was top of the line shit, you hoped she would know that. The warm fuzzy feeling started to settle in your mind and you couldn’t help but laugh with her.

“God, I haven’t smoked in years!” She sounded excited.

The two of you spent the next few minutes in silence just passing the rolled joint back and forth. Half way through it though you started talking. Like weed tended to do, you talked about life and all that jazz until the topic of John came up. She told you she was so happy you came and that she knows he’s happy as well.

You were surprised he hadn’t followed her out here. Helen explained to you that as much as she loved her family she hated that they were so rude about her husband to him himself and her. Next year they wouldn’t host, she had enough of all the tension and how everyone getting along was all fake. You agreed with her and finished the joint.

“Tell me something about him that no one else knows.” She giggled behind her hand.

Helen felt like a teenage girl gossiping about her crush but she had to ask. You brought your finger up to rub at your chin as you thought. What’s something you could say that would shock her or embarrass John. You thought long and hard before the lightbulb went off in your head.

“John can dance. Specifically ballet.”

“No way.”

“Yeah way, he had to wear a tutu!”

“No I didn’t.” You jumped at the sound of his voice.

Damn how quiet he could be.

“I invite you to my house and you get my wife high?” John questions.

“You want some? I have another.” You went to pull it out but he put his hand out to let you know he was okay.

“Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy John.” She chastised him and you almost spit your drink out.

“Yeah John.”

“I came out here to tell you the food is almost ready, not to be ganged up on.”

The two of you laughed before Helen got up to go back inside saying she should probably go inside. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and disappeared into the house. You giggled while lighting up the second joint and he continued to stare at her.

“Did she just call you a fuddy-duddy?”

“Yes. Why what would you have said? Actually-“

“Lame, loser, boring…”

“-I don’t want to hear it.” You snickered and kept hitting the joint.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments before he let out a sigh. John needed the fresh air, though it might not be so fresh with you here smoking but it was better than in the house. He thanked you for coming and you reminded him that you were always only a phone call away, to which he responded that he knew.

It was nice seeing you, John thought to himself. For how annoying and crazy you could be, he’s glad he did it, and that Helen had pushed him too. He forgot how well you two got along even if he’d only seen you interact once. Meanwhile you were smacked. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that second one. You seemed to overdo it a lot.

Something about the way John was looking at you made you start giggling. When he gave you a confused look you just laughed harder. You were almost laying on the chair as you cackled. It was definitely the weed but you couldn’t breathe from how hard you were laughing. You flicked the roach at him but he dodged it.

“What are you laughing at?” His deadpanned voice made you laugh even harder, which seemed impossible.

“You. Man you’re making me laugh, go back inside! Your lover awaits you!”

John realized he wasn’t going to get anything of substance out of the conversation and got up to leave but not without a small chuckle. You were always so weird but you were still right. He knew Helen was waiting for him and that food was ready by now. You were still laughing as your friend told you to come in for food.

“Give me a minute!” You shooed him away.

*

The air in the house felt almost hot as it greeted you when you came inside. Everyone was sitting at the table staring at you as you made your way to your seat next to Marcus. You looked at them with a raised eyebrow. Jeez, Helen wasn’t joking. Her family did seem judgemental.

“And where were you?” One of the family members asked.

“I went for a walk.” Is all you said even if you wanted to jump over the table and strangle them.

“Smells like it…” Marcus snorted into his glass.

You gave him a light smack and started to fill your plate. The talk of people filled the table but all you could focus on was how good the food was. God damn, Helen was an amazing cook, you don’t think you’ve ever eaten something so good. You thought about how to everyone else you looked more like a hungry dog

devouring your food but you didn’t care.

When you looked up you were correct. Everyone was staring at you. Some in disgust, some in awe and some in confusion. If you looked closer you’d probably see John’s temple twitch at your actions. With slow movements you kept your eye on everyone while still shoving food into your mouth. Helen hid her smile behind her hand.

“What?” You asked with a mouth full of food.

“You say you’re a doctor?” One of the men asked.

You took a big sip of your wine, your mouth was starting to feel dry.

“Yup. One of the best, actually.” Pride, that’s what you felt.

“That’s hard to believe…”

You don’t know who said it but John noticed the way you gripped your knife in your hand. This needed to end now or you’d end it in ways he didn’t want to think about at a nice Thanksgiving dinner with his wife. You stared at the man, almost snarling at him.

“Well, believe what you want but I’ll let you know that I’ve been watching you all night. The way you move your arm I can tell your shoulder hurts you. Is it a torn rotator cuff? I’m willing to bet money on it. Also that your doctor sucks.” Your grip on the knife tightened at the idea of a good time.

“Why you little-“

“Okay! Okay! Let’s just eat. The food is great, let's just focus on the food.” John’s worried voice filled your ears.

The statement was directed more at you, not Helen’s family member. With a slight grumble you let go of the chokehold on your knife and began eating again. Just like that, the whole conversation never happened as you went back into your dream of amazing, sweet and savory food.

*

The night had ended and almost everyone had left. Marcus left right after dinner saying he had something to attend to. It was just you, John and Helen, and also her parents. You were laying on their couch before you realized that you should get going as well. Your bed was calling your name.

As you were getting ready her mother and father walked up to you. You were putting your coat on. Your face did not hide your confusion as to why they were approaching you. Was it because you threatened their nephew at dinner? Not your fault the man had to challenge your skills.

“So, you and John? You’re siblings?” The mom asked.

“Yes, he’s my big brother. He was in charge of me when we were younger.” You smiled.

“In charge?” The father trailed off.

John could feel your schemes in his bones and found you just in time to hear the conversation.

“No blood relation. She’s adopted.” Leave it to John to ruin everything.

“Um you were too! We had a very big family! That was poor.” John just whacked you upside the head when they looked away.

You rubbed the sore spot while grumbling. Asshole.

The parents looked at John and smiled at him and he had to take a second to believe he wasn’t seeing things. Helen’s parents always kept a distance and never, ever smiled at him. Not even at their wedding. It almost scared him.

“We had no idea you were a self made millionaire Jonathan. All while taking care of a sibling. Good job.” Her father put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

John just stood there with his mouth agape. Helen’s parents liked to pretend that he didn’t even exist and now they were smiling and praising him. After a few seconds he shut his mouth and nodded his head. Her parents went to talk to say their goodbyes and left you and him alone.

“Ah Jonathan you have to learn how to work those people. Rich folks, they love any story that fits their narrative. Poor orphan self made millionaire? How inspiring.” You mocked.

John let out a deep chuckle. You were always good at getting people to like you, even if you were annoying and crass. It made sense, you were very smart. You yawned and gave him a hug before he pulled away to open the door for you. You’d already said goodbye to Helen but you called out one more farewell and stepped outside.

“I better be coming back next year.” You laughed when John shut the door in your face.

Helen came up to him and wrapped her arms around him.

“She’s definitely coming back next year.”

He smiled.

“Yeah. She is.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 16 - Bloody City [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 3000

Summary: Threats come closer. 

The room was so silent that you could swear even your heartbeat was audible. You tried to think through the panic running through your veins, but it was nearly impossible.

He wasn’t supposed to find out about that.  

You weren’t a profiler, but you didn’t need to be one to understand how betrayed he felt at the moment. He looked completely frozen, his sharp glare giving you goosebumps.

He had never looked at you like that before, and the anger in his eyes was more than enough to pin you to your spot.

“Spencer,” you managed you say, your voice way too weak, “I can explain.”

Silence.

“I didn’t—“ you stammered, “I didn’t read it. I would never.”

He just kept his gaze on you, raising his brows as if he didn’t believe a word you said and you wetted your lips.

“Where did you find it?”

That managed to draw a reaction from him, at least. He scoffed a dry laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s what you’re asking me right now?” he asked, “It was under the magazines on the coffee table, I thought it was one of mine.”

You cursed under your breath, closing your eyes for a moment. Of course your mother would put it there for you to take a look at it in case you wanted to.

“So?” he said, nodding at the folder lying on the kitchen island, “Do you want to tell me why you have a file on me?”

“It’s not mine.”

The bitter smile on his face was almost amused at your pathetic attempt, and it hit you right at that moment, there was no way you could talk your way out of this. This was what he did for a living, and he could tear your whole list of excuses apart, picking holes in it one by one.

“Try again.”

So people felt exactly like this when he was interrogating them. It was like his whole personality had just changed right in front of your eyes, and you weren’t even sure that you knew this person standing in front of you.

“I mean,” you swallowed thickly, “Okay, it’s technically mine. But I can explain why I have it.”

“You can?”

You pushed your hair behind your ear, your hands restless for some reason.

“The other day,” you started, “After we…. Well, when you were in Ohio, my mom dropped by. She already has a key and well, you’ve met her, she comes and goes as she pleases. I told her not to numerous times, but—“

“That’s not what I asked.”

You nodded, clearing your throat.

“Right, yeah,” you said, wringing your hands, “Um, she has this P.I.”

“You mean your family has a P.I.?” he corrected you, “Philip, you said? It’s not just your mother who uses him, you told me so yourself.”

You cussed at yourself in your head and bit on your lip, “Yeah. Yeah but he—he usually works for my mother. She’s overprotective, especially after my dad she became quite paranoid with the type of people me and Mina date. Anyways, she came here that morning, and she had this file but I didn’t read it,” you shook your head fervently, “I would never.”

He tilted his head, humoring you, “Oh you didn’t read it?”

“No, of course not—“

“Why did you keep it then?”

“I didn’t keep it,” you said, “I had to leave in a hurry so I left my mom here and I swear to you I told her to throw it away. I thought she did, I didn’t see it before just now. I wouldn’t keep it if I knew—“

“Did you know she was going to do it?” he cut you off as if he wasn’t in the mood to listen to your excuses, “Put a P.I. on me?”

You opened your mouth to say no, then the memory of her saying that at the brunch flashed in your mind, making you shut your eyes for a second before looking up at him.

That was enough of an answer for him.

“You knew?” he asked, barely controlling the fury in his voice, “You knew but you didn’t tell me?”

“She mentioned it in passing but I didn’t take her seriously,” you said quickly, “I didn’t think she would actually do it, that’s why I didn’t tell you!”

He let out a humorless laugh and walked to grab his satchel while you stood there, unable to even breathe right as your heart pounded in your ears.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” he said curtly, “I’ll break your heart if I stay here any longer.”

“Spencer please, we need to talk about it—”

“Talk about it?” he repeated, “Why? So that you can give me more bullshit excuses?”

To that, you honestly had nothing to say.

“I would’ve told you whatever you wanted to know about me,” he said through his teeth, his eyes narrowed, “Because I trust you. That’s the difference between you and me.”

You blinked back the tears, digging your fingernails into your clenched fists.

“Have fun reading that,” he motioned at the file in front of you, then walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and tugged at the roots of your hair as you slouched against the kitchen island.

“Fuck.”

                                                         ***

The next three days were an absolute disaster. You couldn’t focus on anything, you checked your phone every minute to see whether he had texted you or called you, but there was nothing. You had no idea what you could do to explain yourself, or at least convince him to hear you out, but you decided to wait until he wasn’t as angry. Maybe then, he would be more willing to listen to you and you would have gathered your thoughts together.

That was the logical thing to do and you knew that, but it didn’t help with the situation at all. You had already missed him way too much and the guilt was basically eating you alive.

You should’ve been more careful. You should’ve checked everywhere, you should’ve at least called your mother to make sure if she had thrown it away but you had done none of that because of multiple distractions. Spencer had a point, you knew it was possible, you even knew your mother had done the same thing with Kenzie and yet you had told him nothing about that.

Until it blew up on your face.

There was absolutely no way he would ever trust you again, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

Your fingers were itching to text him, but you every time the urge hit you, you tried to do anything else but that. You concentrated on work, you accepted a new client, you did anything and everything that could stop yourself from thinking about him, but all of that was in vain.

Mina and Kenzie had invited you for dinner and you had accepted it just so that you could distract yourself and feel less terrible. Around nine, Lily had insisted you to be the one to read her a bedtime story, and that kid could ask for a freaking castle and you would get her that, so of course you had said yes.

“And they lived happily ever after,” you finished the story and pressed a kiss into her hair as she snuggled closer to you. “Time to sleep, bug.”

“I have a question.”

“Hm?” you asked, “What is it?”

“Will we all live happily ever after?”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “Certainly.”

“Here?”

You tilted your head, “Here? What does that mean?”

“I heard mommy talking to grandma on the phone about you moving to—“ she scrunched up her nose, trying to find the right word, “Ven…?”

“Venice?” you asked and shook your head, “No sweetheart, I’m not moving anywhere.”

“It’s just that,” she looked up at you, “In the stories, they go away sometimes right? I thought since you found your prince—“

“You don’t need someone to live happily ever after Lily,” you said, “And in this case, I don’t need to move somewhere else to live happily ever after. Besides, things are complicated with my prince nowadays.”

“So you’re not moving away?”

“I’m not.”

She gave you a toothless smile, “Yay!” she said, “I would miss you.”

“I’d miss you too bug,” you kissed her hair, “So much. But now that we both know I’m staying here, you need to go to sleep, we had a deal.”

“Fine, fine…” she heaved a dramatic sight and you turned off the lamp by her bed, getting up from the bed. “Good night!”

“Sweet dreams, bug,” you closed the door behind you and made your way to the living room where Mina and Kenzie were still sitting by the table, drinking wine.

“Thank you so much,” Kenzie said and you waved a hand in the air as you sat down.

“Of course,” you said, grabbing your wine glass, “Mina, she asked me if I was moving to Venice.”

Mina frowned, “What?”

“Yeah, she heard you talk to mom on the phone,” you muttered, “Is that still going on? I thought we put that behind us, I’m not leaving.”

She heaved a sigh, “You know how mom gets, she’s just worried.”

“Have you talked to Spencer yet?” Kenzie asked and you took a huge sip of your wine, shrugging your shoulders.

“He knows where I am.”

“I take that as a no.” Kenzie said and you scoffed a bitter laugh.

“If he wants to break up with me, he can pick the time.”

Mina’s head shot up, “Y/N…”

“Come on,” you forced yourself to say and downed your wine before tilting your glass towards Kenzie, “You guys know how it goes. Experience talking.”

Kenzie filled your glass, “Listen, I can tell you right now that finding that out was a shock, yes. I felt betrayed, also yes. But after a couple of days, the anger subsided. When we broke up, it was— it was just my anger calling the shots.”

Mina nodded slowly, “Yeah, and then we talked and solved it.”

“Exactly!” Kenzie snapped her fingers, “Besides, after the first argument… I went to my apartment and after I calmed down I had to question whether I wanted to lose Mina over that.”

You shook your head, “It’s different.”

“How?”

“You weren’t there,” you lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke, “You didn’t see the way how he looked at me after that. Something inside him shifted and I don’t know how to change that, or fix that.”

Mina and Kenzie exchanged glances.

“I don’t think he will ever trust me again,” you managed to say, turning the cigarette between your fingers, “That is if he talks to me again. I think he might just call it quits over the phone to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything after this point, after what happened.”

“Y/N, I saw you two together even before you started dating,” Mina said, “This is not the end. It’s just some stupid obstacle in the way, that’s it.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes but you blinked them back.

“I’ve never-” you trailed off, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you know? And if I lose this, lose him, I don’t know…” your voice cracked but you cleared your throat and took a sip of your wine again, “I have no idea what to do.”

Kenzie nibbled on her lip,

“You won’t have to, just—“ she started but was cut off when your phone started vibrating on the table. You lowered your glances to check the caller I.D flashing on the screen, then gasped, jumping on your feet.

Spencer.

“Excuse me,” you said and snatched the phone off the table to walk to Mina’s study, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You hoped that it was a good sign that he was calling you, instead of just ending your relationship via text and you closed the door behind you, then answered the phone.

“Hi,” your voice sounded way too squeaky even to your own ears and you shut your eyes for a moment, making a face.

“Hey,” he greeted you and you bit down on your lip, pushing your hair behind your ear as you walked in the study.

“How—um, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he said slowly, “How about you?”

“About the same,” you answered, “I was just thinking about you actually. I wanted to call you, but…”

“But you didn’t?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders,

“I figured you might need some time away from,” you thought for a moment, trying to smile, “Well, away from me, I guess.”

He fell silent for a moment before he cleared his throat,

“Listen,” he said, “I just called to let you know that we— the team and I, I mean, we’re flying to Illinois in fifteen.”

Your head shot up, “Oh? There’s a new case?”

“Might be related to this one, we will see when we get there,” he said, “I just figured you’d…I don’t know, you’d want to know where I was.”

Even when you were quite possibly in the worst terms, he still wanted to make sure you knew about what was happening and that thought alone was enough to make you smile.

“Yeah absolutely,” you said, “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Sure thing.”

There was a pause before he took a deep breath.

“Anyway, yeah. That’s why I called. I’ll see you later—“

“Spencer,” you interrupted him, “Before you hang up, I want to say that I get why you’re upset, I really do. You have every right to be, but I was hoping…” you bit at your fingernail, “Maybe we can talk after you come back? Would that be possible?”

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, “Sure, that sounds good.”

“Yeah?” you let out a relieved breath, “Okay, great. Be careful out there, please?”

You could almost hear his small smile, “You too,” he said and hung up, making you let out a squeal and you sat down on the couch, pressing a hand over your chest.

You didn’t know it back then, but the next time you would see Spencer, it would be under very, very different circumstances.

And it definitely would not look like what you hoped it would.

                                              ***

Even though Mina and Kenzie insisted you to stay over for the night, you told them you had an important appointment the next morning. It wasn’t a lie either, you had been handling Vincent’s wedding’s possible venues since last week and finally you had narrowed it down to three, so you would be visiting those venues with him and his husband.

But that whole morning started very strange.

For starters, you hadn’t even heard your alarm go off, which was unusual, because that had never happened to you before. By the time you woke up, you had a terrible headache as if someone had hit your head with a baseball bat but you hadn’t even drunk that much last night. It felt way too difficult to even open your eyes, and your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you forced yourself to sit up in the bed.

Where was your phone?

The wind coming from the open window moved the curtain and you frowned, trying to remember when you had opened the window before a shudder ran down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.

Spencer would’ve had some scientific explanation for it you were sure, but for you, it went deeper than that. It was your instincts, warning you that something was wrong.

Something in here didn’t feel right.

And every single cell in your body made sure you knew that.

Trying to make as little noise as you could, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, blinking to get rid of the blurriness in your sight and looked around in the room for any potential weapons, then grabbed the nail file on the vanity before you opened the door. You peeked around the hall, but as soon as your gaze fell on the front door, you felt the goosebumps rising on your arms.

The front door wasn’t closed properly, and you were sure that you had closed it last night.

Your heart started pounding in your head but you stepped out of your room, still holding the nail file tightly just in case there was a sudden movement. You took another step, trying to fix your breathing but you happened to inhale deeply for a second, and that’s when you took the scent.

You smelt it before you could even see it, the bile climbing up your throat almost automatically.

Metallic and sweet.

Blood and jasmines.

You slowly lowered your glances to the floor connecting the hall to the living room to follow the small flowers of jasmines soaked in the red river of blood, leading behind the kitchen island. There were sirens going off in your head, screaming at you to run away but you took a deep breath, your whole body shaking as you stepped around the kitchen island, the warm blood soaking your feet before your eyes found the body lying completely still on the floor.

The nail file slipped from your closed fist as you stared at your ex-boyfriend Anthony, his eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling, his hair and clothes drenched in his own blood.

The shock only lasted for one second.

Then a scream ripped itself from your throat.

Chapter 17

[theannoyingmosquitoinyourroom]

im not a reddit refugee, but ill be damned if ill pass up a tag game and the opportunity to rant about smth :)

1. Name? Jason (or Jace for short) (idk take your pick ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

2. Pronouns and gender? he/they; i often use trans to refer to myself but im thinking of shaking things up a bit

3. Sexuality? idk gay ig

4. Country? Somewhere in the faraway land of Europe

5. Top 5 fandoms? rn im really into star trek, malevolent, Gaining Information On Whatever Topic, Supernatual (ive still got to finish it), old books (as in books that were printed/ written a long time ago and were kept through decades n shit and now ive somehow got access to them and that so cool) — also i feel like im forgetting something Big but i cant put my finger on it so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

6. What is your Most forbidden snack? smoked trout w honey

7. Would you pet a bug? UH YES WHEN WOULD I NOT PET A BUG???????

8. Share a weird fact/ story about yourself with the class. okay so this one time we (me and my family) were over at my grandparents for easter and when we arrived my grandma was preparing this lamb for cooking. now i need you to get me straight. it was a LAMB. a WHOLEASS SKINNED LAMB. (literally everyone was like “who is going to eat that much meat” and my grandmother was like “:0 dunno. people”) and she was taking out the head and my brain thought: “omg theres a lamb skull underneath all that meat” and THAT led to me asking my grandma “can i keep the skull” to which my grandma paused and had to ask me twice if i wanted the skull cuz she wouldnt have thought in 15363892 years id be wanting to keep that. and thats how i spent two days skinning and cleaning the skull i have on my shelf now :) (this is also the first time i tasted lamb brain and eyes)

9. What does the colour blue taste like? deep. square. its got lots of flavour. but not the pale/pastel blues

10. What is the most beutiful thing you’ve ever seen? this one time i was cycling on a hill and i looked at the view and it was so fucking beautiful and peaceful and pretty and i had to stop because in that moment i genuinely couldnt believe i lived there. i couldnt believe i was that close to this view, that i could go touch it if i wanted to. just 15 minutes away and i couldve swam in that shining lake, in 30 minutes and a hike i could be on those mountains. it was sunny and there were few clouds and i was on a thin path in the side of this hill, the grass was long and uncut, and there was a green tree on the right side, a house on the left, quite a bit away, but it was the serenity and quietude of the moment that made me realize where i was, if ykwim

11. What is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done? this is not a moment in particular, but just in general, i sometimes Dont Get what people want from me. for example, this one time i was a bit late handing in this form to a teacher, so i went up to him, handed it to him, apologized and told him why i was late, etc etc. but right before i left, he was looking at me expectantly and asked me: “so what do we say now?” and i was like. what. because i genuinely did not know what he wanted from me. so i spent a good couple of seconds sating back at him and going over our conversation again and what his question might refer to. i was certain i had apologized, so i figured out he mustve wanted me to explain why i was late. maybe he hadnt understood/heard the first time, yk? so i explained again and he was perplexed and my friend was looking at me like “whatthefuck?”. i knew i hadnt said what i was supposed to but i didnt know what else to say??????? so my friend leaned in and whispered that i needed to apologize, to which i was like “OHHHHHH” and i apologized and left but that conversation is still confusing me to this day.

12. Stupidest thing you’ve seen/heard someone do/say? *forgets every memory of other people i’ve ever had* oh i watched a flat earth debate once. i think that sums up this answer nicely

13. Hyperfixation song? ooh so lately ive been listening to a lot more will wood songs. but rn ive got a made-up remix of “Tomcat Disposables” and “Memento Mori: The most important thing in the world” (both by will wood) playing in my head

14. Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/ or username? i was making an account on tumblr and there was this annoying mosquito in my room that kept buzzing (as mosquitoes do) and i was like: “what if I was the annoying mosquito?” and then for the pfp i googled “mosquito memes” and thought this one was hilarious

15. Dream career as a child? writer

16. Dream career as an adult? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ smth to do with maths and physics but i dont know exactly what

17. Thoughts on cilantro? i prefer parsley but cilantros nice

18. Have you ever been banned from location and if so, why? no i havent been banned from anywhere (yet)

19. What is your cursed food combination? not THAT cursed, also not cursed in a bad way, but: hard polenta (meaning that after it cools you can cut it in slices) with jam

20. Trans rights? |||||||||| ||||||||||

i sadly dont know of any other people that come from r/196 so if youre from r/196 and want to introduce yourself: go right ahead :)) id love to hear from yall

“I just came from r/196” ask game

Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.

Name? Frankie

Pronouns and gender? he/they/it, transmasc

Sexuality? Lesbian

Country? USA

Top 5 fandoms? Bungou Stray Dogs, Cosmere, All for the Game, Fundiesnark (not a series but I'm too deep in it to not consider it a fandom), .....the tornado fandom? (they're my special interest)

What is your Most forbidden snack? The preserved bones at the Atlanta Bodies Exhibition. They looked so crunchy...

Would you pet a bug? If it's big enough, it is pettable.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. I like to drive around rural areas and photograph old, sometimes abandoned locations in the dead of night. I have been literally chased out of towns by foot and by car on two separate occasions. The second time this happened, "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus came up on shuffle and that's the soundtrack my friend and I tore out of town to. Also every "guy" I've dated except for my most recent ex (who has big egg energy) is a lesbian now.

What does the color blue taste like? Creme brulee

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? The appalachian mountains of Tennessee in the middle of summer. There's kudzu everywhere. On the backroads, there were several old, dilapidated Baptist churches barely hanging to the side of the mountain. I wonder how many of them were still in use.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? Short version: my friend's house almost got broken into by this dude who'd been stalking us for months while we were home alone. Instead of calling the cops, we decided to confront him with a bow and arrow (me), a hatchet, and a baseball bat (him). The plan was that if it went badly, we would simply throw his corpse into one of the many lakes in the neighborhood and let the alligators eat his remains (this was Florida). Why? Because we were afraid of having our home-alone privileges revoked. Luckily for us all, the guy fucked off and we never saw him again.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? My ex thought that Jackalopes were real. Also, a nurse I was doing rotations with apparently thought that "Witness Protection" was for Jehovah's Witnesses.

Hyperfixation song? Young Enough + Bleach by Charly Bliss

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? Profile pic; I'm transmasc and I'm currently obsessed with TriStamp. Username; It was my fake internet name when I was like 13. I won't change it because I want my mutuals to recognize me, and because I do have a viral post associated with this name.

Dream career as a child? Doctor (funnily enough I'm now in nursing school)

Dream career as an adult? Professional Jester. Not a comedian. I just want to be some weird little guy who dresses silly and you can hire me to roast your boss at work parties.

Thoughts on cilantro? Delicious

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? I honestly can't remember? Probably... but in recent memory I've mainly banned people from places.

What is your cursed food combination? Pineapple on a hotdog with grilled onions. It Slaps.

Trans rights? TRANS RIGHTS

Tagging: @rocket-mankoi @mostlymarco @atleast8courics @jazzlike39 @gemsweater72 @limbobilbo @ameliaaltare @redcrane112 @theoneofwhomisblue @twinkenjoyer @theultimatecarp and anyone else who wants to jump on

[annoyingstupidmiracle]

Say It- l.r.h

CONTAINS SMUT

Word count: 1386

It had been a long day of classes, exams, and stress about the holidays. I had made up some poor excuse as to why I wouldn’t be home for Thanksgiving break to my mom. She believed it, but the only reason I wanted to stay on campus was because of Luke. It was my sophomore year of college and I had met Luke as a Freshmen. As soon as we began dating, he had helped me experience the things I never did in high school- including my first time. 

He had been sweet throughout our relationship; taking me out for dinner, introducing me to his friends/family, and letting me sleep with him at the frat as being in the dormitories can be lonely without a roommate. We took things slow at first. After a while, we did anything any other person in a relationship would do. We had sex.. a lot. Like I’m talking on the couch, the counter, in the shower, on the floor- you name it. But every time there was something to do with school, I had to put those things on hold. I’d drink with him during their frat parties, and smoke with him when he wanted, but school always came first and eventually he stopped asking and let me keep up with my work. This week happened to be one of those times.

Today I was supposed to be going over to the frat house in order to help him study for his last exam tomorrow. It was only noon and he still hasn’t answered a single one of my texts or calls, so I made my way over to the fraternity to see if he had possibly fallen asleep. I walked into the house and it was eerily quiet. I tip toed up the stairs and finally stood outside of his room. Once turning the knob to let myself in, I was indeed met with a sleeping Luke snuggled under his comforter. Instead of bugging him, I sighed and placed my bookbag down and shut the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes and silently got in bed with him, the coolness of the sheets instantly calming any previous stress I was feeling throughout the day. My eyes fluttered shut, but opened once I felt Luke’s arm snake around my torso. 

“You fell asleep,” I said, stating the obvious.

“And now I have you in my bed.” He mumbled, his voice raspy from the nap he just woke up from.

“Was that your plan all along?” He hummed in response causing me to sigh. “You have to pass your exam to-” Before I could say anything more, his large hand slapped over my moving lips. 

“I’m stressed, El.” He whined. My mind immediately went to the first thing to remove his stress. I moved his hand away from my mouth and chewed on the inside of my cheek.

“We could always...”

Luke’s eyes opened with surprise as a smirk began to crawl onto his face. “You mean..?”

“Yes, I-” Without another second of hesitation, I was instantly pinned under the blonde boy who had a shit eating grin on his face. My hand reached up and balled a fist into his shirt before pulling him down to meet my lips in a heated kiss. 

After that, we got straight to it. His hands explored every inch of my top half before they began to take off articles of clothing. I lifted myself from the bed so he could unlatch my bra and toss that across the room along with the shirt and hoodie he also took off me. I yanked his t-shirt up and over his head to the floor as well. I could feel how hard he was against my thigh as he leaned down to begin his trail of hickies down my collarbone while also pulling his sweats off. Butterflies corralled my stomach as he did so causing my hands to reach up into his blonde locks in order to occupy them. Luke pressed against me to gain some sort of friction between us, and I just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, okay,” I breathed out causing him to stop.

“What’s the matter?”

“Please, just- do something.  I want to feel you so bad, Luke.”

Without hesitation, he reached over into the nightstand next to the bed and pulled out a condom. I pulled down my leggings in a hurry and tossed them off the bed as well. He pulled the condom over his length and laughed to himself. “God, I love it when you beg for it.” He reached a hand down to cup my jaw, forcing my face upwards as he roughly pressed his lips to mine. I gasped once I felt him slide past my entrance smoothly, letting me adjust to it. Relaxing my body, I ran my nails along his back as he sped up his pace. 

Luke grabbed the back of my thigh with the flat of his palm and pushed it up towards the headboard to get a better angle. I let out a loud moan which only led to him wrapping a veiny hand around my throat. “Luke~” I yelled, my nails feeling the skin of his back beginning to get raw. 

He slowed down the pace of his thrusts until he pulled out. I felt a sudden urge to pull him back in, but I trusted what he was doing. Luke sat up on his knees and backed up a little bit. “Turn around for me, babe.”

“Okay,” I mumbled, but did as told. I arched my back slightly and dug my elbows into the mattress. Two large hands held onto my hips as he entered me once again. An erotic groan erupted from his throat as he did so and snatched his hips into mine. A loud slap played through the room as his palm met the skin of my ass. I fell forward into the pillows, but he pulled me back up so that my back was against his chest while he thrusted deep inside of me. My head lulled back against his shoulder as he did so. 

“Talk to me, baby. Tell me how much you love me inside of you.” He growled next to my ear. It almost drew me to the edge, but I held back. His thrust changed pattern and I let out a loud moan. His chuckle soon followed before he pushed me back down against the mattress. Luke’s fingers came around and played at the sensitive bud between my legs inching me closer to my climax. 

“Alright, now say it.”

I paused, my eyes opening from their clenched state. My head turned to the side and I watched as he raised his eyebrows in anticipation. “Say what?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Ellie.” He threateningly slowed his thrusts causing my brain to go fuzzy. I had called him it once before, but it slipped. There was no other way to explain how I felt in the moment so I gave him a little nickname, no biggie. 

“Luke, baby, please.” I begged. It seemed embarrassing to even bring it up, that I had a kink, and that he liked it. 

“I’ll stop.” He said, suddenly pausing his movements. I was too close to the edge to let it happen.

“Okay fine, fine.” I breathed out. While one hand drew me close to my high, the other one pressed against my back in order to lower my body. It was the same position that got me to the biggest orgasm I’d ever experienced, and it was about to happen again. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and my mouth fell in an ‘o.’

“Say it, angel.” He grunted, growing close himself.

“Fuck, daddy, please make me cum!” I screamed out as I fell over the edge, a shaking orgasm taking over my body in that moment. Luke collapsed over me, his hand gripping the headboard until his knuckles grew white as he rode out his high as well. 

Once we felt as though we had finished all the way, we both rolled onto our backs with a long breath following. “Jesus Christ, I love you.” Luke says before his lips connect with the bare skin of my shoulder. I smile at his words and lean my head against his arm.

“Now I’m ready for a nap.”

[ikeromantic]

Middle Ground

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - approx. 2200 words. This scene occurs well after the events of the romantic epilogue. Fluff.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Bonding

“So . . . separate beds?” Mitsuhide’s wry smile was only a little bitter.

“Yes. I know it’s silly. I’d . . . I’d rather be in there with you.” The chatelaine, soon to be Lady Akechi, looked down, her expression a mixture of shame and defiance.

“It’s fine. I will have you all to myself soon enough. What is a night or two apart?”

She looked up without raising her head, trying to gauge his emotions.

Mitsuhide wasn’t having any of that. He took her chin between his finger and thumb and gently lifted until her gaze met his. “It is fine.” Then he leaned forward to brush a kiss across her cheek. With his lips almost close enough to touch her skin, he added. “Are you so eager to be in my arms again? Do you want to . . . test out the guest room? Or your childhood bed?”

He had the intended effect. She shivered and licked her lips. “You are so bad!”

“You are the one protesting our brief separation.” Mitsuhide pressed another kiss to her cheek and leaned back.

She crossed her arms. “You’re right. It’s just a few nights. But when we get back to the city -” a wicked smile turned her lips up at the corners, promising all sorts of fun.

“So forward, my little mouse. So eager. You make me wish we were home already.”

“That’s the idea.” She turned and threw him a saucy look. “Something to dream about.”

Mitsuhide chuckled. “Good night, little one.” Something to dream about indeed. He watched her hips as she walked down the hall, until she turned into her room and shut the door. She really had no idea what impact she had on him. He wondered if it was his practiced art of hiding his true emotion, or simply that she couldn’t see how beautiful she was. How desirable.

He went into the room and shut the door. It was so strange. The electronic hum of household devices. The cold fluorescent light from the street lamps in his window. Distant traffic sounds blending with barking dogs and strains of music. Mitsuhide felt suddenly very alone and very out of place.

Despite his refusal, the thought of spending one night, much less three, without his little one, felt impossible. A burden too heavy for him to bear. He needed to feel her in his arms, to fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, the beat of her heart. Her warmth grounded him in this strange place.

Mitsuhide gave a dry, soundless laugh. Who was the little mouse now?

Slowly, meditatively, he dressed for bed and lay down. He would embrace this world, different as it was from his own. He had to, because it was the one that gave birth to his beloved. And so, listening to the heartbeat of this small town, the viscous thrum of modern life, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Miyake and Sasuke arrived the following day at lunch. They met up at a local restaurant. Youko was friends with the owner and able to borrow a few tables in the back for privacy.

Minoru, the chatelaine’s often grumpy father, seemed to be on his best behavior. Not smiling, but distantly polite to the two newcomers. He thawed a little when his daughter threw her arms around each of the men in greeting.

No one said much as they ate. Youko and Minoru sat beside their daughter on one side of the table, glancing up at her strange friends. Sasuke, Mitsuhide and Miyake sat across from them, looking nervous.

It was Sasuke who finally broke the silence. He cleared his throat. “I understand your daughter told you about our time in the Sengoku. Understandably, you want proof. You have questions. We are here to give you what evidence we can.”

Minoru snorted. “What do you get out of this charade?” He gestured to Mitsuhide. “Is he paying you?”

Miyake looked as if he wanted to speak up, but Sasuke beat him to it. “No. I am here because your daughter is my friend.” He reached into his bag. “I know it isn’t much, but I brought my ninja kit as proof. These - these are smoke pellets. And that is a kunai. This is a sleeping poison, and this -” he went through the items, explaining what they were and how he made them. Detailed descriptions of the tools and materials he had available.

When Sasuke finished, Minoru looked thoughtful.

Youko smiled across as Sasuke. “You seem a very resourceful young man. And you are also the one that discovered these wormholes?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sasuke dipped his head, embarrassed by the compliment.

“It could just be you have a - a fascination with this stuff. Read a lot. Saw some movies,” Minoru said. His gruff voice held more than a hint of doubt. Even he didn’t buy his own explanation.

Sasuke nodded. “I could have. But even that would not yield the encyclopedic knowledge I’ve developed. I would go into greater detail, but I imagine you don’t have the underlying historical education to make use of most of the information I could provide. Unless . . . Are you a history buff?” His voice sounded different at the end, as if this question was important. Light glinted off his glasses, hiding his eyes. The air around him was charged, almost crackling with a sudden and unexpected energy.

“No. I can’t say I am,” Minoru replied.

“Hm, too bad.” The strange tension in the ninja disappeared as suddenly as it came.

Mitsuhide nudged Miyake. The warrior muttered something under his breath and then rolled his shoulders. “Alright, old man. I don’t blame you for doubting us. I’d think I was crazy too, or lying. But what Lady Akechi told you is true. She’s been living with my lord for the last few months. And it’s a good thing too. He smiles a lot more now. Eats too, and sleeps almost like a human.”

“Miyake,” Mitsuhide growled. “That’s not the kind of evidence they need to hear.”

“Sorry, but it’s the truth. And if you don’t mind me saying, well, even if you do, your daughter makes for one hell of a princess. She makes the servants happy to do a good job because she notices the little things. And the guards . . . they’d all die for her, and not just because Lord Akechi demands it. She’s kind and good to all of us. I don’t get to spend time at the castle, but I hear how she remembers birthdays and congratulates newlyweds and -”

Youko laughed, a sound Mitsuhide recognized. Much like his own little one, but matured. More elegance with just the same amount of joy. “It sounds like you have a following,” she smiled at her daughter.

The chatelaine blushed. “I really don’t. He’s exaggerating, mom. Really.”

“He is not,” Mitsuhide chided. “Though I don’t think that’s the kind of proof her father -”

Minoru interrupted, his gruff voice quieting the table. “It’s clear you’ve gotten to know her. My little girl.” He gave her a brief smile. “I am still . . . it’s a lot to take in. This wild story. But she stands by it and there is clearly - something true in it.”

His daughter hugged him. “I knew you’d come around, papa.”

He dislodged himself from her unexpected embrace. “I didn’t say I’m buying the whole story. Just,” he waved his hand, “some of it rings true.”

The tension at their table eased, and conversation began to flow more naturally. Youko and Minoru had a lot of questions, and were finally ready to hear the answers.

***

Kyubei followed Ranmaru through the thick forest undergrowth, barely able to make out the dirt path he led them down. This was supposed to lead to a safe house, one that Kennyo agreed to meet him in. He wished the demon-abbot had a taste for teahouses instead of abandoned forest shacks, but it could be worse.

He could be with Hideyoshi, hunting Motonari across the ports. Kyubei wasn’t afraid of pirates, but being on a boat . . . the constant roll of the ocean waves made him sick as a dog. No matter how many trips he made, he never gained any kind of tolerance for the motion. So this, the dirt and the bugs and the thick air under the trees, was a better deal all around.

“This is it.” Ranmaru stopped just before the path opened on a small clearing. There was a half-rotted shack ahead, once a shrine to some local deity, now fallen into disrepair.

Kyubei was surprised to see he wasn't’ the only one here to speak to the monk. Another familiar figure sat on the wooden steps outside the shrine. “Shingen?”

Takeda grinned up at him, pushing a lock of sweaty hair out of his face. “If it isn’t Mitsuhide’s maid!” He laughed. “Kidding, kidding! I just expected to see the kitsune out here himself.”

“He is otherwise engaged.”

“Is he?” Shingen’s smile was dangerous now. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with our missing ninja, would it?”

“If it does, I’ll send him your head,” Yukimura spoke up from somewhere to Kyubei’s left.

Ranmaru put his hands up, laughing as if this were all so silly. “It’s too early for threats. Come on! Let’s make some tea and relax. The abbot will be here shortly.”

Kyubei turned his head a fraction, just enough to see Yukimura lower his spear. “Tea would be good.” He ignored the younger warrior’s scowl as he followed Ranmaru to the shrine.

He didn’t sit, but stood near Takeda, resting his back against a tree.

Shingen, for his part, pretended to be fully relaxed. It wasn’t quite effective though. His brow held a waxy sheen, his eyes looked sunken and fevered. Worse, his breathing was labored. A rasp, harsh as a winter cough.

Kyubei watched him carefully. This was a bad situation. A dying man had fewer qualms than one that had to live with his decisions. He hadn’t realized Takeda was so bad off though, despite the reports he’d received. The Tiger of the Kai was legend. Not a man to be taken down by sickness. And yet.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Yukimura snapped, coming to stand beside his lord.

Shingen chuckled. “So protective, Yuki.” His laugh turned into a thick, unproductive cough. When he finally got control of himself, he directed his attention to Kyubei. “So. Where did your lord and my ninja go off to? And don’t tell me you don’t know. There’s too much tying their disappearance together. I’d rather not have to kill you today for lying to me.”

Another situation he wished he had his lord’s guidance. What information was safe to pass along, and what plans would the ripples of this conversation affect? Kyubei swallowed. “I suspect they have gone to visit the chatelaine’s home. 500 years in the future.”

Shingen nodded as if this was the answer he expected. “Sasuke asked me if I’d like to visit his hometown. He said - he said they could cure me.”

“And then he left without you.” Yukimura punched the shrine wall, causing the whole building to tremble.

Ranmaru poked his head out. “Hey! Careful or you’ll bring the whole thing down on my head!”

“Sorry,” Yukimura growled.

“If it is any consolation, I don’t believe Lord Akechi or Sarutobi left when they did intentionally. The information my lord left indicates the trip was meant to take place later. He was still . . . putting things in place for his extended absence.”

“That’s bull,” Yukimura grumbled, but he relaxed his grip on the spear.

They had no more time to talk it over as Kennyo’s shadow fell across the clearing. He came out of the trees like a spirit, the rings on his staff clinking. “It appears you found me. Again.”

Shingen grinned. “Well, old friend, I did have to hunt through every abandoned shrine in the province to get to this one.”

Kennyo snorted in disbelief.

“Ranmaru brought me,” Kyubei bowed. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“I have little time or patience for guests. Tell me what you want.” Kennyo crossed his arms.

“Your help with the false emperor.” Kyubei didn’t look up from his bow. “We both know Ashikaga is dead. The scribe we set up in his place, or the men around him, have gone astray.”

“I could care less. Let the exiled shogun harass the devil-king. Nobunaga and his pawns can go to hell.” Kennyo’s eyes were dark and full of anger. It radiated from him like heat from a fire.

Shingen shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I hate him too. But it’s not just him getting hit. These idiot daimyos in his retinue are conscripting farmers. Villagers. Innocent folk that should be left out of a power grab.”

The demon abbot’s eyes fell on his old friend. “And you believe this is a worse fate than what the Oda have in store for them?”

“I do.” Shingen’s gaze didn’t waver.

Kennyo’s shoulders shook and it took Kyubei a moment to realize the abbot was laughing. He shook his head. “You always were a fool, Shingen. But fine. I will tell you what I know. I don’t think you can stop what has been set in motion.”

Next: Double Dating