#a WHOPPING 3 followers will see this but that's fine.

[marvelfilth]

Off the deep end (18+)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: ghostface!Sam Carpenter x f!reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, dubcon (just to be safe), knife play, spanking, fingering, choking, degradation, mention of blood, alcohol and weed

Summary: "You're going to spread your legs for me. If you're wet, I'll do whatever I want to you. If you're not, I'll leave."

Masterlist

The floor almost vibrates with how loud the bass is, making your ears ring as you frown in search of Tara. She disappeared some time ago to look for another drink, claiming she was good enough to go on her own. You can already feel the ass whopping you're about to be put through for losing sight of her.

You bump into another drunk frat boy when you finally see her, immediately fastening your pace when you notice some asshole wrapped around her.

You already regret the amount of tequila you've drank throughout the night.

In reality, recent news of Ghostface attacks should've kept you locked at home, preferably with sharp objects by your side, but Tara practically begged you to join her at the party, claiming she needed someone to keep her company since she didn't want to third wheel Mindy and Anika, and follow Chad around while he's trying to find Ethan a girlfriend, so you quickly agreed, feeling the need to let loose after months spent panicking about the killings.

The killings that somehow always revolved around Blackmore ever since they transferred there.

You tried not to think too much into that, but soon enough Mindy deemed you trustworthy and gave you a quick, but intense dive into their story. You understood it all a bit better after that.

And installed a security system.

So yeah, you needed that drink, a couple of them, actually.

"Hey." You get her attention and pull at her hand, but she resists. "It's time to go." You say, watching the way she's blinking slowly, heavily leaning on the arm of the asshole.

"I'm fine. You can go, don't wait for me." She giggles and tugs him up the stairs.

You stop for a second to take a deep breath before following them. Her palm is sweaty in your hand when you tug her back, catching her as stumbles down the stairs.

"Y/n, what the fuck?" She groans, trying to pry away.

"Yeah, what the fuck?" The asshole pushes you against the wall, leering over you before he's sent flying down with a precise punch to his jaw.

"Sam, are you insane?" Tara shouts over the loud music and marches away with a huff when her sister sends her a seething look. You make a move to follow her, but sag back against the wall when you see Chad hot on her heels.

Your attention is pulled to the older woman when you feel gentle fingers cup your jaw. "Are you okay?" Sam asks, her eyes flickering all over your face. Your chest tightens and you fight the urge to lean into her soft palm and press kisses all over her fingertips.

You sigh, nodding. "You got here just in time."

There's a groan coming from the floor and Sam snaps her eyes back to the man, her expression darkening as she makes a move to him.

You get in her way, catching hold of her wrists before she could move any further. "Let's just go, okay? He's not worth it."

Her jaw clenches and you can clearly see the debate that's happening in her head.

"He was going to hurt Tara. He hurt you." She snarls, her eyes trained on the whimpering man.

"And you stopped him. Let's go check on Tara, okay?"

She relents, begrudgingly, and dutifully follows you outside.

The fight between the sisters is anything, but pretty.

You really don't want to stay to see the rest of it, so you wave Mindy over and tell her your uber is waiting around the corner. She looks skeptical for a second, but then there's mentions of therapy and her attention is pulled back to the fight as she mutters something about calling her when you get home safe.

You nod and quickly disappear around the corner, happy to delay the inevitable confrontation. Sam might've been worried at the party, but it doesn't mean she won't chew you out as soon as she's done with Tara. You just hope she won't be as angry tomorrow.

Luckily you live not far away, so you're not even worried, whistling some tune as you make your way home, your eyes dropping slightly from alcohol and exhaustion. Sober you would've thought it to be way too fucking dark and creepy to be walking alone down the alley to your apartment complex, but you're tipsy on tequila and tequila always makes you a little too reckless, so you throw caution to the wind and continue your way.

And then you see something out of the corner of your eye and freeze, when you realize that a man just turned to follow you down the alley. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see him pull out something shiny from his pocket.

You start moving faster, almost jogging the rest of the way and turn around before rounding the corner.

The man is gone.

You make it up the stairs in record time considering your wobbly knees, and sag against the door once you're finally safely inside.

It's nearing midnight, you note, sending Mindy a quick text before making your way to the bathroom. You are tired, but not tired enough to wake up feeling gross after a night out, so you take your time under the hot stream, washing away the smell of alcohol and weed.

And then you hear something fall in the kitchen.

You frown and step out of the shower, drying yourself in the process. You open the door and peek outside, barely breathing to make sure you don't miss anything strange.

When nothing happens again you sigh, wrapping the towel around your still wet body and go to the kitchen to investigate. If your pan fell from its hook again you'll have to ask Chad to come over and fix it for you.

You freeze when you see it swinging from side to side on the hook, clutching at your towel as you turn around to grab your phone, only to run into a solid, cloaked form.

"Hello, Y/n."

You barely register the distorted voice before you're being yanked by your hair and pushed against the counter, a knife flashing in your line of vision.

"Your parents didn't tell you not to walk alone at night? Especially when there's a serial killer on the loose." They continue, pressing the edge of the knife to your neck.

You look up at the Ghostface mask. Dread fills your chest and you shake in their hold, eyes filling with tears while you think of a possible escape, but your body goes numb and your mouth won't open, so you just stand there, gaping at the imposing figure.

"Pathetic little thing." They growl, before placing the knife against your chest and slicing your towel away.

You blink when it falls at your feet, and the sight suddenly spurs you into action.

You grab the pan from behind you and swing it hard against the intruder, but they easily avoid it, catching your arm in an ironclad grip and turning you around to press you against the cold countertop. You hiss through gritted teeth and throw your heel as hard as you can against their kneecap, sending them tumbling to the floor in a heap of black fabric.

You don't get a chance to run too far when they catch your ankle, making you fall face first on the floor. You're turned on your back before weight settles on your hips.

"Maybe not so pathetic," the voice sounds almost pleased before they pin your hands above your head.

You're suddenly all too aware of your state of undress when you feel their eyes on you. You try to squirm, but they don't budge, the Ghostface mask tilting as they look you up and down.

You grow embarrassingly red in the chest, trying to think of something, anything to distract the murderer from you, but you're not sure there's anything good enough to get their eyes off you at the moment.

"Who's blood is that?" You blurt, eyeing the knife on the floor.

They tilt their head to the other side. "Not yours."

You suck in a sharp breath, wincing at your stupidity.

"Okay…" you whimper, closing your eyes, "are you going to kill me?"

They pick up the knife and raise it over your chest before lowering to trail the blade over the skin of your breasts.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"I would've killed you by now if I wanted to," they say and release your wrists to take hold of your neck, not squeezing, just resting fingers on the tender skin of your neck.

The gesture sends shivers down your spine.

"Aren't you pretty like this?" The knife point barely grazes your nipple and you bite your lip, stifling a whimper. You push against their shoulders, digging your nails into the robe as you try to keep them away, squirming in their hold.

"Let me go, please." Your whispers turn desperate when their fingers squeeze around your throat, making it hard to breathe. "Please, I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

You nod feverishly, not trusting your voice.

They pull away, the weight on your hips completely disappears when they shift to sit to your side, trailing the blade down to your belly button.

"Then we'll play a little game." They chuckle and you open your eyes, waiting for them to continue. "You're going to spread your legs for me. If you're wet, I'll do whatever I want to you. If you're not, I'll leave."

You stop breathing altogether, suddenly hyper aware of the wetness pooling between your thighs. You shift unconsciously, edging away from the Ghostface in hopes of escaping before they inevitably notice your arousal. You're shaking, your sole focus on the person that made you tremble with a few simple touches.

You don't know what you feel more, repulsion or arousal, but then their fingers wrap around your jaw and you know you don't have time to debate your feelings.

You have to do something, and you have to do it fast.

"Don't even think about it," they growl, getting dangerously close to your face.

In a flash, they have you on their lap, legs spread on either side of their hips as they push you down hard against their thigh. You moan loudly, rocking your hips against their dark pants, leaving a trail of wetness.

"Fuck," you whimper, clawing at their shoulders, "please…"

They slap your thigh, stopping your movements with a heavy grip of your hip bone. "Please what? Please stop?"

Your head falls in the crook of their neck as you whine, desperately trying to move.

Fuck this. You'll think about the consequences tomorrow.

"Don't stop." You breath against the mask, tugging their gloved hand up to your neck.

Their fingers wrap around the back of your neck and then you're pushed down on your stomach, your legs bent at the knees and forced apart before they deliver a hard spank on your ass, making you cry out against the hardwood floor.

"Such a slut."

Another spank.

"Whoring yourself out to a stranger, a murderer."

You try to rub your thighs together, your pussy clenching when they land another slap to your reddening ass, the sound echoing through the room. Suddenly, they pull away and there's shuffling of the fabric before a pair of leather gloves lands in front of your face.

Your hips buckle in anticipation.

"Don't get too excited," they chuckle, before landing a palm against your wet center, making your whole body twitch.

You pant, reveling in the feeling of their soft fingers gently soozing the pain, gliding through your folds to settle against your slit. You hold your breath, waiting for them to finally push inside and fuck your brains out when another loud spank echoes through the room, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"You look beautiful like this, fuck," they breath out, spreading your lower lips and teasing your entrance, pulling quiet moans out of you.

Your whole body is on fire and you can feel your arousal leaking down your thigh before it's caught by a hot, wet tongue.

"Mhm," the person, a woman, hums and you realize she just threw away the mask with the voice changer in favor of tasting you.

You don't have a chance to say anything when her tongue slides up your slit, lapping at the wetness and dipping down to tease your throbbing clit with the tip of her tongue. Your knees buckle, your body shaking from pleasure. She tugs your head by your hair, pulling you up against her front when you nearly fall, her fingers gliding down your stomach to disappear inside you in one deep thrust. Your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back against her shoulder as she sets up a fast rhythm, her other hand reaching across to play with your breasts.

"Faster-" you whine, burrowing your nose in her soft hair, clawing at her forearm.

She pulls her fingers out and lands another slap on your inner thigh in warning, and turns her head to bite down at the juncture of your neck, making sure to leave a mark.

"Open your eyes, baby, look at me," she whispers and you think you recognise the voice, but her fingers on your aching nub feel too heavenly to place it and your eyes are too heavy to listen to the command, so you whine and tug her face back to your neck, moaning when she litters it with wet kisses.

She circles your clit with her thumb so slowly and softly, barely applying pressure before diving back in and curling her fingers inside of you, making you come in two hard thrusts.

×××

"Did you get home safe yesterday?" Mindy asks, nudging you with her knee.

You look up from your book, squinting against the sun, your hand flying up to fiddle with the soft fabric of your turtleneck. "Yeah. I sent you a text, right?"

Mindy groans, falling back on the soft grass and nods, throwing her arm over her eyes. "I called you, though, but you didn't pick up. Got me worried for a second."

You wince, hiding your face behind the book. "Sorry. Fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow."

You don't mention the fact that you don't remember ever going to your bedroom, let alone falling asleep. The last thing you remember from yesterday is Ghostface wrapped around you, taking you apart. You stifle the urge to run your fingers along the fabric that covers your bruised skin. It's really not the time to think about it.

She rolls her eyes before looking over at you. "Lucky you. I really hate you right now."

"What did I do?" You ask, affronted.

She pushes your shoulder, sending you a dirty look. "You should've seen the look on Sam's face when she realized you already left. If she was angry with Tara before, she turned positively livid when she realized you went alone. She wanted to follow you, but Tara intervened, calling her overbearing and overprotective and it got even worse. We had to call an uber because Tara refused to get in Sam's car, and Sam didn't even look at her when she drove off to God knows where."

You put down your book. "She didn't go home?" You asked, tugging at your bottom lip.

"She did, a few hours later and drunk out of her mind," Mindy rolls her eyes, exasperated. "They really should talk one of these days or I'll stab them myself."

You chuckle, but your mind is still stuck on the revealed information. You decide to think about it later when you notice Tara stomping in your direction with Chad by her side. "Hey." She mumbles, still clearly in a bad mood.

You send them a small wave and tune out their conversation, butting in only when necessary and mostly keeping to yourself, trying your hardest to focus on the words in your book and not on the way your whole body aches.

"By the way, I'm kinda grounded so we're hanging at my place tonight." Tara's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you groan, burrowing your face in the book.

Fucking great. You can already feel the headache coming. Sam is going to have a field day and you won't even be able to retaliate while your body is still hyper sensitive from being fucked out of your mind.

Someone pinches your side. "Don't be too sad, Sam promised booze," Chad says, sending you a wink.

You let out a soft laugh, your head falling on his shoulder in the process. He grins, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you in a bone crushing hug. You sag against his chest, content to bask in the warmth of your friends' company, until you feel someone boring holes into your forehead.

You look up and see Tara's questioning look, her eyes flickering between you and Chad, and you roll your eyes and shake your head at the smaller girl, jokingly pushing him away and standing up to go to your last class of the day.

"You coming?" You ask and she nods, following a step behind you, hesitating to start a conversation.

You sigh. "Tara, you know I have zero interest in Chad."

She runs into you when you suddenly stop, and scrunches up her nose, hiding her eyes behind her hand. "It's not that," she grumbles and snakes her hand around your elbow, tugging you through the crowd. "I wanted to say thank you. You know, for yesterday. I was really stupid."

You look at your friend, your heart squeezing in your chest at the vulnerable look she sends you. "Anytime," you whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and she finally relaxes.

×××

"My favorite person!" Quinn beams from the couch when you step inside the apartment, holding a bag full of snacks. "Hey there, girlfriend." She presses a kiss to your cheek and takes away the bag, leading you to the kitchen.

Everyone is already here since you were the one to go to the store. Your last class passed without a hitch, and even though Tara kept sending you weird looks every now and then, you figured she was just jealous. That was the main reason why you pushed her in Chad's direction when she tried to join you.

You're more than happy to see them sitting side by side on the small couch, hunched and giggling over something on his phone.

You blush when you notice Sam standing in the corner, leaned over the stove, slowly stirring something in a boiling pot. Even you can admit she looks like shit from the night spent drinking, her hair a disheveled mess and her eyes bloodshot.

"All these snacks and you're still the best one," Quinn smirks, throwing away the paper bag and taking the food to the living room.

You snort and give her the finger.

Sam whirls around with a spatula in her hand and sends a dark glare to the back of Quinn's before looking you up and down with an unreadable expression on her face, taking in your attire, her eyes lingering on your neck.

You stifle the urge to fiddle with your shirt again and curl your hand into fists, nails digging into your palms.

"Y/n." She eventually mumbles in greeting and turns back around to rummage through the fridge.

"Sam." You look around and decide to settle on the counter. "What are you cooking?"

She tenses, the muscles of her shoulders straining under her tank top as she holds her hands in the air, mid way to the fridge. She sends you a look over her shoulder and takes out a bottle of orange juice.

"Pasta. Want some?" She asks like she's just trying to be polite and not actually offering you a meal.

You look down at your feet, your mood dampened by a single sentence. You feel like you deserve the cold shoulder. "I'm good, thanks." You hop off the counter and turn around to leave.

She catches your wrist. "Not so fast."

You try to not pay attention to the way your skin gets hot all over at the simplest touch, fixing your eyes on hers. You think you can drown in their depth.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." You whisper, placing your palm over hers, and gently squeeze her fingers.

Her eyes darken and she looks down at the motion, her lips parting slightly.

You pray she'll let you off easy.

"Y/n, you need to see this." Mindy calls out, gaining your attention.

Sam blinks, her brows furrow. "We'll talk later," she promises and leads you to the living room and tugs you to sit next to her on the soft cushions, her fingers still wrapped around your wrist. You sag against the pillow and focus on the TV.

"Another fatal stabbing happened yesterday just before midnight. A man in his early thirties was stabbed seventeen times…"

"That's your neighborhood, right?" Tara asks, her face a picture of concern. "You always go down this alley."

"Yeah," you gulp, staring at the photo of the man who followed you yesterday.

The grip on your wrist turns almost possessive, and you turn to look at Sam, choking on your breath when you see a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Your chest is starting to feel too heavy, and your breathing becomes labored. Suddenly, you're back at the apartment, with Ghostface pinning your wrists and the blood on the knife now makes perfect sense.

Ghostface wasn't there to hurt you.

She saved you.

___________________________

Do we want a part two?

[riacte]

🥁 Welcome to the first ever "Choose an unhinged Renchanting moment" ✨ALL STARS EDITION✨!!! 🥁

In which winners of the previous nine (!!) polls and the Last Life burning tower scene will battle it out for ULTIMATE UNHINGED RENCHANTING MOMENT!! Deliberately made to cross over from 2023 to 2024 to wish for a new year full of Renchanting <3

If you don't want to read my lengthy and dramatic sports guy commentary you can skip to the poll right at the end.

Now, let's introduce our beloved competitors! With some clips sponsored by @ani-craft, thank you as always <3

Starting from Round 1, the OG, the beginning of this series in Feb 2023— congrats to "Ren calling Maidtyn "very very sexy" completely unprovoked"!. Now, fellow Tumblr users, this is a historical moment because the Maidtyn trend was the Tumblr response to Martyn being active on Tumblr, and it snowballed into the Mint Mistletoes of MCC19 wearing skins of maid dresses (and a butler suit). This is the tangible impact of the Tumblr fan community on MCC. And of course it's about maid dresses.

Round 1 was quickly followed up by Round 2, and narrowly winning by FOUR votes is... [drumroll] "r/place (2022) when Martyn helped place a pixel of blush on RK Ren"!. Truly a chaotic moment that somehow became a highlight even in the overall chaos of those few days.

But the numbers really peaked in Round 3, aka. the Limited Life edition when Martyn's lore stream repeatedly dropped bombs on us. 100% of these moments are from Martyn, by the way. But which unhinged moment was the most unhinged? Which moment will win like Martyn? Unsurprisingly, the most popular option are those two words that basically sum it up— "UNGUIDED HAND". An unhinged moment that won with a whopping 404 out of 1913 votes.

Things did not calm down after Limited Life. Some might say the moments only became more unhinged. 2.5 months after LimLife ended, Round 4 began. Most of these moments are also from Martyn. Most unhinged of all: "Martyn declaring in a low voice: 'Third Life never ended for me'." Yeah it sure didn't, buddy.

Fast forward to September 2023. Treebark Week 2023! Surely the perfect moment for a poll! Also, I need to add that I was so excited about Round 5 that I posted it before TBW ended and... let's say it immediately got worse the day after I posted the poll. My hubris for assuming it was the end... Anyways, Martyn's Tumblr shenanigans kick in once again. Congrats to "Martyn saying nothing about an ask that claims his character is in love with Ren", which also ended up being a significant post to Scurvyblr. For reasons.

Two months after TBW, the pining gets exponentially worse. And I do mean exponentially. Enter Round 6, which has a lot of insane moments, but there was one clear winner, a moment that swept with 32% of the votes— everybody clap and cheer for "Martyn's 50 word 3L AU drabble - "Luck be with ye.... Hand"!! At the time of writing, that post has 4.1k notes. Martyn's just like us. He's writing fanfiction and that's so real of him.

Merely ten days later, fires are crackling, demons are giggling— it's the Decked Out open day! And we got a Renchanting feast! Round 7 emerged from That Iconic Burning Stone Box and was dedicated to moments the stream day. With 39% of the votes, the unhinged moment that swept was "Ren to Martyn: You have very fine lips there and a wonderful neck for kissing". Honorable mentions go to Martyn's Twitch chat (for surviving), Martyn's viewers (for clipping it with varying degrees of "what did he just say??"), and of course, False (for locking them in and kickstarting whatever the improv demon roleplay was).

A few weeks later, the flames have died down— or have they? Round 8 enters with a steel chair and Ren has more unhinged moments now. Martyn's Tumblr takes home another win with "Martyn reblogging a post that calls Ren his “Minecraft boyfriend”!! This is the third win that's from Martyn's Tumblr blog. You love to see it.

Last but not the least, Round 9 from last week! It's finally Ren's turn to dominate. Our winner is.... "Ren mentions going to sleep and dreaming of Martyn’s 'beautiful, beautiful eyes'"!! Appropriately clipped with the caption "Insane".

But that's not all! In Round 1 + 2, I purposefully excluded the altar scene and the burning tower scene because I felt those two would sweep. Now, I think the altar scene is still untouchable but the burning tower seems almost normal now. (As normal as an unhinged moment could be.)

A new unhinged moment has appeared! Challenger approaching! Last Life Ren purposefully sets his tower on fire after knowing Martyn is watching him and Martyn runs to save him while screaming "Ren, what are you doing to yourself! Stop burning yourself!".

Okay, okay, my dramatic commentary is done. Hey, I'm not a Renchanting fan for nothing. Here's the poll. Have fun :D

Much love to all of you <3 here's to another year of unhinged Renchanting moments!

(Also sorry the r/place should be in 2022 not 2021)

[doodle17]

The Brainiacs DTIYS

Ladies and Gents, we have reached a whopping 200+ followers! 🥳🥳🥳🥳Can you believe it? I sure can't! I just quickly want to thank everyone for the follows and getting me here. I never knew people would enjoy my silly little scribbles this much!

Before I get on to the big thing, I'm going to quickly say that NO I have not forgotten comic requests. In fact, I'm almost done with the first one! Just adding the finishing touches :)

Now, on to the thing I'm sure you've heard about - or not - either way, this is something I've been planning for a good while, and that thing is...

DOODLE88'S 200 FOLLOWERS PSYCHONAUTS FUTURE DTIYS!

I'm assuming you may know what the rules are, but in case you don't, I'll leave some answers to questions you may have...

For this DTYIS (draw this in your style), you don't have to have it shaded or lined exactly like the original. You can make it lineless, painted, traditional, or just a sketch with color! (This is a draw this in YOUR STYLE, after all)

- Try to keep the outfits and designs as close to the original as possible. Don't outright change their designs.By designs, I mean hair and other accessories. You can change proportions like head shape and size to fit your style.

- You can slightly alter poses and facial expressions if you want.

-The special # to be used will be "the braniacs 200 follower DTIYS"

-@ me in the post!! I want to be able to see it!!!

-PLEASE REBLOG THE CRAP OUT OF THIS! I want as many people to see this and participate as possible!

- Please, don't be weird.

This'll be going on for 3 months! Deadline will be July (14) 11:59 Mountain time, and winners and whatnot will be announced 4 days to a week afterward. If you are unable to complete the illustration before the deadline, but want to submit it, its perfectly fine to just enter an unfinished illustration or sketch. It's highly unlikely it will get a winning spot, but it might get an honarable mention! :) Speaking of which...

There will be 3 winners and a few "Honorable Mentions"! 3rd place gets a traditional sketch, 2nd place gets a digital sketch with color, and 1st place is a full and complete illustration! Honarable mentions get shoutouts with an @ and a link to their illustration. When winners are announced, said winners can send an ask or DM me a request of what they want. You can read some of the rules I have when it comes to requests and most things in general on my pinned post. Request can be anything*!

I can't wait! This is so exciting! Good luck to everyone participating, I'm excited to see what you'll do with this!

*It doesn't have to be Psychonauts' themed unless that's what you want. It can be of an oc, a character you really like, etc. It can really be anything as long as it follows my rules

!!PLEASE REBLOG THIS!!

[amazingmsme]

It’s a Tie

AN: Here’s today’s fic! Robin & Steve are so wholesome, I hope y’all enjoy this one! 

Robin and Steve had a special kind of friendship. One full of playful competitions, insults, and teasing. They wouldn't have it any other way.

Right now, they were in the middle of one of their arguments, shooting retorts back and forth. They both gestured wildly, voices going shrill from embarrassment while trying to defend themselves.

"You're out of your damn mind Buckley, you're way worse than me."

"Um, I don't think so! Have you even heard yourself when someone goes for your knees? You screech like a banshee," she giggled, reaching for his knees to prove her point. He jerked away, but not before she latched on and began squeezing.

"Noho dohohon't!" he squeaked, tucking his legs close to his chest. She looked at him with a smug grin and he huffed.

"That's not fair. Besides, your hips are way more ticklish. You snort endlessly if I even just look at them," he teased. Her cheeks flushed bright red, an annoyed squeal of protest slipping past her lips.

"What a load of horse shit! I do not!" she shrieked, hiding her face in her hands. He took the opportunity to squeeze her him and her body convulsed, a loud snort escaping.

"You're so mean! There's only one way to settle this once and for all," she said with a serious tone. Steve matched her energy, schooling his features.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" he asked, arching a brow.

"We see who can last the longest getting tickled," she said nonchalantly. Steve's face fell.

"W-what?"

"You heard me," she challenged. Steve glared at her, their eyes locked in an intense staring contest.

"No way."

"Then I guess I win by default," she chirped happily. Steve's mouth hung open in shock and he held up a hand to protest.

"Now wait just a minute!"

She looked at him expectantly, and he caved.

"Alright fine, but you're going first," he said pointedly. Robin swallowed thickly.

"Fine by me. I'll start my watch," she said, pushing a few buttons to start a timer. Her hubris made her jump the gun, and she only realized the mess she was in once he fixed her with a look.

He wasted no time and dove for her feet, skittering his fingers across her socked sole. She barked out a loud laugh, kicking her legs on his grip.

"Yeah you seem real composed right now," he taunted, slipping off her socks to get at bare skin. A snort interrupted the bout of giggles she found herself lost in. She fell on her back, her hair fanning out around her. He followed her down and plunged his hands under her arms. Her laugh got a little wheezy and she pounded a fist on the ground.

"Okay Ohohokahay Ihihi gihive!" she cried out. He eased up, ruffling her hair as she sat up straight.

"Wow, a whopping 2 minutes and 3 seconds," he said sarcastically. She shot him the bird.

"Let's see you do better," she challenged, resetting the timer and starting it. She pounced on him, straddling his waist and kneading his sides. Bright laughter immediately filled the air as he rocked back and forth, gripping onto her wrists for dear life.

"Ohoho fuhuhuck!"

"Aww what's wrong? Too ticklish? Might as well give up now," she taunted, slipping her hands under his shirt. She scratched her nails against the now exposed skin, pushing his shirt up even higher. She pinched each rib on both sides of his ribcage, adding a hysterical note to his laughter.

She made a show of taking a deep breath and bent down to blow a raspberry on his belly. He screamed and curled in a ball, shoving at her face.

"Mehehercy! Plehehease!" Robin stopped the timer, but blew an extra raspberry just to torment him further.

She gasped when she saw the timer.

"No fuckin' way."

Steve sat up, crawling over to see. 2 minutes, and 3 seconds.

"It's a tie."

"Huh. Guess we're evenly matched."

Steve sighed. "Guess so."

[freyayuki]

Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia Rem Tokimiya Banner

The Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) event just started in the Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia (DFFOO) mobile game. This event came with 1 banner.

Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) Banner

The Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) banner features the following chars and their weapons:

Ceodore Harvey from Final Fantasy IV - Burst or BT only

Rem Tokimiya from Final Fantasy Type-0 - 15cp, 35cp, Ex, and LD

Seifer Almasy from Final Fantasy VIII - 15cp, 35cp, Ex, and LD

Seven from Final Fantasy Type-0 - 15cp, 35cp, and Ex

Have everything on this banner except for Ceodore’s BT, Rem’s LD, Seifer’s Ex, and Seifer’s LD.

Rem Tokimiya from Final Fantasy Type-0

Rem Tokimiya from Final Fantasy Type-0 (#ad) is a support with pretty good buffs and auras. She can battery. She can heal. 

With her LD, Rem does a follow-up attack every time she moves. One of the things that really sets her apart from other supports is her ability to swap her turns with another one of her allies. 

This form of turn manipulation is especially useful for slower chars. For example, Rem has very good synergy with Machina Kunagiri from Final Fantasy Type-0. 

Whenever Machina uses his special HP attack that he gets after using his BT+ finisher, he will delay himself. Rem can swap their turns so Machina can move more often.

Seifer Almasy from Final Fantasy VIII

Seifer Almasy from Final Fantasy VIII is a debuffer and delayer who can also deal decent enough damage. He’s pretty good but I don’t really need him. I already have built chars who can debuff and delay.

Thoughts about Rem Tokimiya and Seifer Almasy

Seifer is the returning or old LD on this banner. I’ve been able to get by just fine without him so I’m certain I can continue getting by without him although it would be nice if I could get his Ex and LD. His Ex is actually one of the few that I’m still missing.

Rem would be nice to have too. Don’t really need her either though even if I do have a fully built and maxed Machina. I’ve been using Machina ever since I got his Burst to BT+ 3/3 so pretty sure I could make do without Rem.

Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) Banner Tickets Pulls Results

Didn’t want to use gems on this banner but since I was pretty interested in Seifer and Rem, and since I was missing a few things on this banner, decided to try my luck with tickets. Currently only have 403 tickets on hand.

Got the usual bronze and silver trash as well as some gold dupes. When I was down to 383 tickets, Rem’s LD showed up.

It came from a gold orb. Also got a dupe of Seven’s 35cp on this pull.

Was really pleased to see Rem’s LD, of course. In retrospect, should have stopped throwing tickets on this banner after getting Rem’s LD. Should have just walked away now while I still had 300+ tickets. 

But I was still missing Seifer’s Ex and LD, and since I still had tickets, decided to keep going for a bit longer.

Didn’t think this banner was gonna troll me so much though. Because guess what? 

I proceeded to get multiple dupes of Rem’s Ex and Seven’s Ex and yet I couldn’t get even a single copy of Seifer’s Ex.

Heck, it even felt like I hardly got dupes of his 15cp and 35cp. I don’t need them but it was frustrating how it seemed like all I kept getting were weapons for Seven and Rem with barely anything for Seifer. 

Sometimes, I’d even get draws with 0 golds which was also really frustrating and upsetting, especially as my ticket count started dwindling.

Then, a bit later on, I got a gold orb which turned into an LD. Unfortunately, it was the wrong LD. 

Yeah, that’s right. Just got a dupe of Rem’s LD as well as a dupe of Seifer’s 35cp.

Argh! How utterly frustrating. Why couldn’t that LD have been Seifer’s instead? Still had 276 tickets left when this happened. Should have stopped pulling already but couldn’t seem to help myself.

Kept pulling but all I kept getting were dupes and bronze and silver trash. Then, to my surprise, I got a 10-draw that gave me a whopping 6 golds. Too bad they were all dupes.

The third time I got an LD, it was from a gold orb and it was yet another dupe of Rem’s LD. Even got a dupe of Seven’s Ex to go with it.

Ugh! So freaking frustrating. Was down to 140 tickets when this happened. Really annoyed that I ended up spending so many tickets on this banner. If only Seifer’s Ex and LD had the decency to show up.

Really should have stopped pulling as soon as I got my first copy of Rem’s LD. She was the prize on this banner anyway. 

And I’d already established that I don’t need Seifer and could get by just fine without him. Sigh. I really regret this now. 

At least I was finally able to stop wasting more tickets on this banner. Really need to recover my ticket stash now.

Conclusion

So, what about you? Did you pull on the Starting Out (Intersecting Wills) banner? What do you think about Rem, Seifer, and all the other chars featured on this banner? Feel free to share your thoughts and opinions by leaving a comment below or by reblogging or replying to this post.

Notes:

screenshots are from my Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia game account

[ave-paris]

Part Four: Words Words Words

It’s Voyant time, baby.

So what even IS Voyant?

Voyant is an amazing tool which allows for digital text analysis, with so many different features and functionalities to allow you to view through a text. For example, you can see (as in our case) word occurrence, you can play with word links (words most often next to each other), you can create word clouds, make charts, and just deep-dive into the text itself.

So I uploaded my corpus to Voyant and started my work.

Some notes on methodology:

1. I used a stopwords list to prevent our most common words from being “it’s” and “a”, etc. Unfortunately, Voyant’s function to edit the stopwords list wasn’t functioning with the word cloud tool so it’s not really useable (as two of the largest words are “I’m” and “don’t” which doesn’t really tell us anything, nor look too pretty), however it worked for graphing so that’s what we’ve got for visualization!

2. I, somewhat arbitrarily decided that our stopping point for analysis would be words under 100 occurrences, though for graphing I chose 300 for readability.

“Get on with the results!” I hear you cry. Fine, fine- I’ll fold.

Here’s the graph that was generated- it doesn’t make much sense right now though, so let me explain, but before I do, here’s the link to the interactive graph so you can follow along! (Aside: apologies for the color scheme... it was not my choice. It is just as rough on me (colorblind) as it is you, I promise).

The most common word was... love. Yes, you heard that right, love, with a whopping 2083 occurrences, that love. In a community so driven by darkness, nihilism and horror you’d think it would be quite the opposite... but I have a theory, which we’ll get into later.

However, ‘love’ was mostly the fault of Crush and Letters to Sartre (good for them!), as well as The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin although to a lesser extent. That’s a pretty good ratio though, right? 3/8 isn’t bad.

Paris was also mentioned quite a lot, in 6/8 texts, however being that many of these texts are French this is unsurprising.

So here’s the top 10 (actually 11 because I thought it was neat) list:

Love - 2083 (primarily Siken and Beauvoir, Nin)

Time - 1926 (Kafka, Tartt)

Life - 1592 (Wilde)

Mother - 981 (Plath)

Heart - 772 (Siken, Nin, Baudelaire)

Paris - 559 (Beauvoir)

Happy - 530 (Beauvoir)

Books - 460

Dark - 393 (very well distributed, though a lot in Crush)

Father - 394 (Nin)

Strange - 362 (best distributed word of them all!)

Some other neat observations:

The words ‘fear’, ‘dead’, ‘god’, and ‘afraid’ all have roughly the same occurrence rate- 234, 234, 233, 233, respectively.

‘Tired’ and ‘sad’ had the same occurrence rate at 190 counts.

Other entries:

1 2 A 3 4 5 6 7 8 O B

[theoldsouls]

I'm just putting this out there, whether whoever reads this and believes me or not. I have lived several lives; and tragically for me one has been noticed by posterity and bastardized and twisted into something phantastical and otherworldly and corrupt that I cannot even search my own name without cringing.

My name is Hamilton, in that life. Having once been honest about that online left to a string of bad events - as people felt entitled to a part of me because they thought they knew me - and I let them, desperate to find old family and friends. I let this need blind me to a lot of things.

I'm not here for that purpose anymore. Do not seek me out for want of a father figure, a lover, or anything more than someone you'd like to get to know. I'm still a normal person. Whatever people know of me might not be true. How can you claim to know or love or hate a person if you've never talked to them? No, I'm here to have a safe space to talk of my memories, to debunk some things, to just talk this into existence and let it be. I'm not here for drama. I'm not interested. But trying to move on and be silent as I'm dunked on as the punchline of a joke is something I can no longer watch and idly sit by.

My inbox is open to all those who are curious and respectful. Do not say things to me that you wouldn't say to a stranger. Thank you.

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 1)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, homophobia (f slurs and d slur), panic attacks, toxic friends, mentions of attempted suicide/getting told to kill yourself

Word count: 6,377

(A/N): ok, so I definitely got carried away with this, so I had to split Thursday into two parts. If I kept it in one part, it’d probs be like 10k-11k words long lmao

You woke up feeling strangely more refreshed than usual. Glancing at your clock, you saw that you actually woke up about thirty minutes before your alarm went off. You got a whopping twelve hours of sleep, a stark contrast from your recent sleep schedule consisting of no more than four hours a night. You felt like you could rule the world with how much energy you had. Sure, you felt anxiety pooling in your stomach like you usually did and you had a terrible dream about Haley rejecting you and getting completely outed to the entire school, but that did not stop you from throwing your covers off your bed and walking down the hall to the kitchen with the most confidence you’ve had since starting high school.

When you got to the kitchen, you saw a dead looking Uncle Schlatt slumped at the table chugging coffee and a chipper Philza trying to make conversation. Usually, you would’ve joined Schlatt in being dead inside, but today was different. You were filled to the brim with energy that you haven’t had in years. As you walked through the door, their heads turned towards you.

“Mornin Dad, mornin Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle merely grunted before going back to guzzling down his coffee. Your dad smiled at you, “well, looks like someone’s well rested.”

“Yeah, I got like twelve hours of sleep last night.”

“Glad to hear it, hun. You really needed it.”

“Glad to hear someone’s feeling well rested,” your uncle grumbled into his coffee. 

“Schlatt, don’t be such a downer all the time,” Philza rolled his eyes at your uncle. 

“Fuck you Phil, I’m a ball of fuckin sunshine. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, Dad, I don’t know what you’re talkin about. Uncle Schlatt’s the heart and soul of this house. Even if he doesn’t live here.”

Schlatt gave a booming laugh, “suck it Phil. And that, (y/n), is why you’re my favorite niece.”

“At least I’m someone’s- wait. I’m your only niece.”

“Still my favorite niece!”

You grinned happily, that was better than nothing. “Love ya, Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle’s cocky grin turned more sincere and he diverted his full attention to you, “love ya too, kid.”

“Love each other quieter, you woke me up.” Wilbur’s tired voice complained as he walked into the room and slumped into his chair next to Schlatt. Schlatt clapped a hand onto his shoulder and rustled his hair.

“My man! How’s Sally, huh?”

Wilbur flushed red and started sputtering as Philza turned his confused gaze to his son. “Who’s Sally, Wilbur?”

You couldn’t leave your brother high and dry when he accepted you for being yourself so readily yesterday, so you quickly jumped in for him. “Sally’s just one of his friends at school. They’re job shadowing together for their project. Right, Wilbur?” You turned towards the flustered man with a somewhat forced smile and raised eyebrows. He looked at you with immense relief and nodded vigorously, his hair flopping onto his forehead. 

“Yes! We’re planning on job shadowing our band director, he said that it’d be a good idea if we want to major in music.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me about her before! You should invite her over for dinner, I’d love to meet her!” Oh, your dad did not buy your terrible excuse for Wilbur, that man is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out lies. Poor, poor Wilbur. 

Despite the blush remaining on his cheeks, Wilbur seemed to think that Philza actually bought his weak excuse. “I’ll invite her over soon. Does Friday night next week work?”

Philza grinned cheekily, “yes! I can’t believe you haven’t brought her over sooner if you’re close enough to job shadow with her!”

At this point, Schlatt’s face was cherry red with his almost failed attempt to hold in his laughter. “I’m not missin this. Me an’ Tubbs are comin over next Friday.” 

Wilbur still hasn’t noticed that they hadn’t bought it, you thought he was more perceptive than that. Eventually, Philza started to make breakfast and conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as everybody waited for Techno, Tommy, and Tubbo. Deciding to pull out your phone, you scrolled through your notifi- wait. Why did you have forty-two messages from Adrian and Sammy? Why did they make a groupchat with everyone except Annie? Furrowing your brows in confusion, you opened the group chat. What you read made your breathing catch in your chest and your skin blanch, it wasn’t a dream. Everything was real.

Sammy <3

(y/n) you fucking pervert

How could you do this to us????

Adrian <3

We’ve given you everything and yet you’re still a disgusting person. 

Fucking faggot

We thought we could fix you, but you’re broken

You’re always going to be

Sammy <3

And now, you’re gonna go to hell with all the other dykes and fairies.

It’ll probably be heaven for you, surrounded by perverts like yourself

You’re staying far away from Annie

Adrian <3

You’ve put her through so much shit and now this

We swear to god if you talk to her again we’re gonna make you wish you would’ve gone through with killing yourself freshman year

We’re leaking the pictures slut

You felt your anxiety melt away into betrayal. So they were yours and Haley’s stalkers? How dare they try to leak Haley’s pictures. They could leak yours, you didn’t give a shit if yours were leaked. You could learn to live with it, you always did after all the shit you put yourself through throughout the years, but Haley’s? She didn’t do anything. Even if her rejection was painful, you still deeply cared for her. She didn’t deserve that. You, however, did for not being normal. For making people around you uncomfortable with your presence. 

(Y/n)

That was you guys?????

Why the fuck would you do that

I trusted you 

All of you

Sammy <3

We trusted you too dyke

But you’re a two-faced bitch

And to think we actually thought you were our friend

Were you only friends with Ann and I so you could get into our pants?

I’m disgusted

You’re a fucking pervert.

Adrian <3

We shouldn’t have talked you out of suicide freshman year

You fucking deserve it

Make Annie’s life easier and just swan dive off a roof

You’ll be doing everyone a favor

(Y/n)

Listen, I don’t care if you leak my pictures.

Just don’t leak Haley’s

She has no part in this

I’ll leave you guys alone if you delete Haley’s pictures

Hell, I’ll do anything for you if you could release them after the final volleyball match today

It’s Haley’s time to shine and she deserves the attention as team captain

She’s worked so hard to get there all of high school and leaking my nudes would take the attention away from her

Let her have her moment

Sammy <3

For once she has a point

She probably manipulated the poor girl

Who knows what the fag would’ve done to her if we didn’t expose her

Adrian <3

Fine, we’ll delete Haley’s pictures and we’ll wait until after the game

But we’re leaking yours

You deserve it for what you did to Annie and Haley

“Kid, are you okay? You’re kinda pale over there buddy.”

Looking up from your phone, you saw everybody’s eyes on you. They each looked concerned, but Wilbur even more so. He was the only one in the room at the moment that knew about your panic attacks. He stood up from his spot and walked over to you with long strides.

“She just remembered the homework in stats that we forgot about. Techno asked us in the group chat about it, we were just about to go and see if he could help us.” 

“But Wilbur, I thought you took statistics last year.”

“No, that was algebra two, I’m taking stats this year,” that was a lie, he was in pre-calculus this year. “C’mon (y/n), lets go finish that assignment.” 

He grabbed your shoulder and hauled you into a stand before grabbing your hand and practically dragging you up the stairs and into Techno’s room. Said pink-haired teenager looked up angrily. “What’d I say about kno- (y/n)?”

Wilbur closed the door and locked it behind him. He dragged you over to Techno’s bed and sat you down on the edge before kneeling down to look you in the eyes.

“(Y/n), can I touch you? Is that alright?”

After you shakily nodded, he grabbed your hand and placed it over his chest. “Breathe with me.” Like yesterday, you tried to copy his movements, but it wasn’t working. Your panic attack was just getting worse by the minute. Techno pushed Wilbur aside and took his place kneeling in front of you and grabbing your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“(Y/n), can you tell me five things you can see around the room?”

When you didn’t move your wide eyes away from Techno’s face, he frowned and gently squeezed your hand. “You can get through this. What’re five things you can see around the room?”

You reluctantly tore your eyes away from his face and peered around the room. You hadn’t noticed that your blurred vision had tunneled until you realized that you couldn’t see anything in your peripheral vision. Your unseeing eyes flicked around the room. 

You tried to swallow, but you couldn’t do anything through the lump in your throat. With a shaky voice, you gasped out “I-I can’t breathe. I-”

“Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Follow me.”

You tried to breathe with him, and you eventually got to the point where you could speak. Your eyes flicked around the room once again and slowly recognized your surroundings. 

“You… Wilbur… Desk… Window…”

“That’s good, just one more.”

Your eyes flicked around the room, “...Book.”

“Look back at me, you’re doing so good,” when you looked back at him, he had a small smile on his face. “Nice job. Now, four things you can feel. Can you do that for me?”

You shakily nodded and looked at your hands and around your surroundings. “Bed… Pants… You… Carpet.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“You… Birds… Breathing.”

“You’re almost there, I’m so proud of you. Two things you can smell?”

“Toast and… and burning?”

Despite his confusion about the sudden burning smell, he continued to smile at you. “Good, last one. One thing you can taste?”

You licked your lips before scrunching your nose slightly, “...snot.”

“Wilbur, can you go get her a few kleenexes and a glass of water?” Techno asked his brother without taking his eyes off you.

Wordlessly, he swiftly left the room. “Are you feeling better?”

You panted as you reached up to rub at your teary eyes, “yeah, how’d you know what to do?”

His smile turned slightly bashful, “I did some research last night. I’m glad I did, that was a bad panic attack. Can I- can I ask what caused it?”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him, letting him scroll through the messages while you brought up your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. You felt tired after that attack, however you had a little bit more energy than you usually did. Only a little bit more. It was probably because you slept for half the day and through the night yesterday. You watched your brother scroll through your texts with tired eyes. 

He was emotionless as he scrolled, making you somewhat scared about what his reaction would be. He probably hasn’t gotten to the whole “go kill yourself” or the stalking parts. Judging by his set jaw and labored breathing, he was pissed already and he didn’t even get to the bad parts yet.

In the middle of his scrolling, Wilbur came back with a box of tissues, a glass of water, and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. When you hardly moved to grab them, he sat on the bed beside you and handed you a tissue. After cleaning up, you took the glass of water and started to slowly sip at it. “Thanks, Wil.” 

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. When he looked over Techno’s shoulder at your phone, you saw his eyebrows furrow. “Tech, what’s-”

He was interrupted as Techno shoved your phone into his hands and stood up to start pacing around his room. “Read it yourself.” He sounded more monotone than usual. He was absolutely furious.

You watched Wilbur’s face as he read through your messages. Unlike Technoblade, he looked furious. His eyes were set ablaze as his entire face turned an angry red. “(Y/n), what the absolute fuck? Why didn’t you tell us this was happening?”

Shrinking in on yourself and pulling your knees closer to your chest, you murmured out a small “sorry.” You saw him quickly turn his head to you as his face softened. He pulled you into a full hug.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is, it’s all their fault,” he spat with disgust. “How’d they even get your nudes? Did you send them to anyone?”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, “that’s the thing, Wil. I’ve never taken nudes before. They took them through my window. I deserve it.”

You felt him freeze up and heard Techno pause his pacing to stomp over to you. He tore Wilbur’s arms off from you and held you out at arms length by your shoulders. He looked the most angry than you’ve ever seen him with his furious eyes burning into your own and his mouth set in a firm frown. It was terrifying to see him that angry.

“(Y/n), you don’t deserve a single fucking thing that’s happened to you. You were manipulated and gaslit by a group of self righteous assholes. You. Do. Not. Deserve. Anything. That. Happened. To. You. Do you understand me?” 

Despite your fears of him, you were determined to protect your friends. “But I do deserve it though. I was a bad friend to them. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t be a good friend to them when they were always helping me. I’m just not a good person in general. I deserve it for not being normal.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Technoblade, that’s enough.” Wilbur cut him off with a firm tone, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“No it isn’t Wilbur. It’s not enough until she realizes how fucking toxic they are. What they’re doing is gaslighting. You’re in a psychology class, you should know what that is. Give me the definition of it. Now.”

“It’s when someone manipulates another person for their own personal gain… I’d know if I’m being gaslit, and I’m not. They’re just telling me the truth, they keep me in check. I could put more effort into my appearance and personality. I could stand to lose a couple of pounds.” “How do you not- ya know what? Listen. Just listen. That’s the definition of being gaslit. They’re constantly putting you down and making you self conscious about every. Little. Thing because they need to put someone down to fuel their own damaged egos and they laugh at you when you show that you’re hurt by their comments. That’s not a healthy friendship, (y/n). It’s toxic. 

“Real friends would never, and I mean never, do that to you. Real friends would never tell you that you looked like shit when you’re as beautiful as Aphrodite. Real friends would never out you to the entire school when you weren’t ready. Real friends would never tell you to lose weight because they wouldn’t care about what you look like. Real friends care about your well being and they look out for you. They love you for you.”

You fell silent as you contemplated his words. Were they really that toxic? You were planning on being a psychology major in college, so why didn’t you notice that they were actually always against you? You learned in your class that manipulative people are naturally cunning and sneaky, but you couldn’t help but feel stupid. You thought that they were helping you when they were clearly toxic. It was right under your nose and you didn’t even see the signs. What kind of psychology student were you if you couldn’t recognize the obvious signs of manipulation? 

On one hand, you were filled with betrayal. But on the other hand, you felt molten hot anger overwhelm and swirl around your entire body like a cyclone absolutely decimating everything in its path with its violent winds hurling in a blind rage anything and everything without a care of the outcome. You felt the burning hatred of a thousand suns rise up from deep within your being, filling you with a hatred that you didn’t know you were capable of. 

They fucked up your entire life, not you. They were the ones with the ugly personalities, not you. They were the ones that needed to improve themselves, not you. They were bad friends, not you. They laughed at the pain they brought upon you purposefully. They completely humiliated you. They betrayed your trust. They took pictures of you without your consent. They fucked up your relationship with Haley. They violated Haley. They fucking stole her dignity from her with those disgusting pictures they took of her. They were truly vile creatures undeserving of any mercy. Not that you were actually considering being merciful, that would be too good for them. They deserved everything you were going to throw at them. You were going to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of your past self. 

You felt yourself practically vibrate with fury as you held Technoblade’s intense gaze with one of your own. “Those bastards fucking used me for years. Literal years and I thought they were there for me,” you gave a sardonic laugh, your voice shaking with anger. “I-I’m gonna fuckin kill them the next time I see their sorry asses. Make them feel what it’s like to get tossed out of a car. Make them feel what it’s like to constantly get beaten down.”

Techno’s hands gripped your shoulders in a vice grip as his eyes sparked with a crazed delight and he grinned widely at you, “that’s the spirit! You’re gonna rain hellfire upon them, beat their asses (y/n)! Fuck em up! FUCK! EM! UP!”

Wilbur, always thinking about potential consequences and the voice of reason, spoke up with hesitance. “As much as I love that you’re finally realizing that they’re toxic as hell and want revenge, you’d have to wait at least until tomorrow. If you did it today, you wouldn’t be allowed to go to finals. Besides, I don’t think that you should even fight them. You would be out- wait. They’re the ones that opened the car door and fucked up your back?” Seeing you nod, his face darkened in anger. “...(Y/n), you’re gonna fuck em up as soon as you can tomorrow. We’ll back you up if they try to gang up on you, we aren’t eighteen yet, so it’s still legal. ”

“YES, SUCCUMB TO THE ANARCHY! WE’RE GONNA FUCK EM UP!”

“YOU ARE NOT FUCKING ANYONE UP ANYTIME SOON, TECHNOBLADE.” Philza’s voice boomed from behind the closed door. Said door swung open to reveal your father’s angry form and your uncle’s intrigued, slightly proud form.

You three stared at the two for a while with gaping mouths, your previous intensity substantially diminuendos into a quiet shock. No one fucks with an angry Dadza. Techno was the quickest to get over the shock. “...How long were you standing there?”

Your father sneered. “Well, long enough to hear that you three are going to fight someone! Why the hell would you do that?” 

Your brothers looked at you in a silent question. Shaking your head, you answered in a small voice, “there’s just some people messing with me at school. They were just worried about me. We weren’t gonna actually fight someone, they were just talking about how it’d be nice to get some revenge for me. I was just about to tell them that I could handle myself and we didn’t need to fight.”

Immediately, your dad’s stiff stance relaxed slightly as his eyes pierced into your own, searching them to see if you’re lying to him or not. You felt a cold sweat drip down the back of your head at the intensity of his gaze, you hated when he did that. It always made you feel like he was staring right at your soul. Eventually, his gaze softened.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you through it.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it’s nothing I can’t handle by myself.”

“But you looked really panicked earlier hun. Are you sure you can-”

“I just forgot about my stats homework until this morning and I thought I wouldn’t be able to get it done in time, but I did! No worries,” you spoke a little faster than usual. You prayed that he wouldn’t see through your lie. 

“...Alright. Just let me know if it gets to be too much for you and I can talk with your principal about it. Now go eat something and get ready, you only have,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “an hour before you have to be at school. Hurry up or you’re going to be late.”

Your dad turned around and walked down the hallway away from the room. Schlatt, however, loomed in the doorway for a while before he came into the room and closed the door behind him. You three watched him warily as he eyed you and your brothers.

“...Ya know, I approve,” after seeing your confused looks, he chuckled and spoke again. “I approve of you three fuckin em up. I heard part of your conversation, and those snot nosed brats deserve it for what they did to my favorite niece.”

You three stared at him with shock, making him laugh at you. “Close your mouths, you’re gonna catch flies.” He paused for a second before leaning towards you and whispering “now, you didn’t hear it from me, but the key to a good punch is following through with it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t tuck your thumb in, that’ll break it. Make sure you center your hit on your index and middle fingers, they are the strongest points of the hand. If you need to, go for the eyes, nose, and groin.”

“I-thank you Uncle Schlatt. I really appreciate it. Just- please don’t tell dad?”

“Of course not! I mean, if you don’t fuck em up enough I will. (Y/n), when you’re done, I want details.”

You saluted sarcastically, “yessir, will do!”

He gave a boisterous laugh, “you better. Now go get ready.” 

As he was about to walk out of the room, he suddenly paused and his hand shot to his pants pocket. He pulled something out before putting it into your hand and turning again to walk out of the room. “This is from Tubbo and Tommy. They were worried about you.” In your hand laid three of your favorite candies. You felt your heart swell at their innocent, caring natures. They were honestly some of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met. 

“Well boys, you get first pics!” You held out the candy to them.

Wilbur looked at you with knitted eyebrows, “but they gave those to you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten through that panic attack without you guys helping me, so take this as a temporary thank you.” You watched as they glanced at each other before reaching out to grab a piece of candy.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get ready, you guys can take the bathroom before me. Love you guys!”

You went into your room and made sure your curtains were closed before turning to your closet. Humming in thought, you picked out a white button up and the nicest sweater you owned. You put on the collared button up then slipped the sweater on over it so that the collar poked out of the neck. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, feeling more confident in yourself than you’ve felt since you started hanging out with them. Fuck them, they always lied to you. You looked great in anything you put on. You felt elated and basked in the spectacular feeling of being able to like what you wore. 

While you waited for your brothers to leave the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts before you stopped on one: Haley’s. The girl that stole your heart and relentlessly stomped on it until it was a red puddle at her feet. Despite the pain, you still loved her. She was your everything. Your thumb hovered over her icon, contemplating on texting her. You had to tell her that she didn’t have to worry about her pictures anymore. 

(Y/n)

Haley

I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I have good news

You don’t have to worry about your pics anymore

I took care of it.

You don’t have to reply to this

Just know that I took care of it and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.

You sat on your bed staring at your phone screen waiting for her to open your messages. You stared at the ‘delivered’ icon at the bottom of your message, waiting for it to say ‘read’. You stared for about ten minutes before you gave up, putting your phone in your pocket and standing up with a sigh. She would see it eventually. Just as you reached your door, you felt a vibration in your pocket. You whipped out your phone and smiled at Haley’s face on your screen. She was calling you. 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you clicked the answer button, “hey Hales.”

“(Y/n), what’d you do?”

“I took care of it. That’s all you have to know.”

“I think I should know more. What’d you do?”

You paused for a moment before you hesitantly said, “I asked them to delete your pictures and they have to, it’s part of our deal.”

“...You found out who they were?”

“Yeah, but that’s not important. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“(Y/n), don’t tell me what to worry about. Who are they?”

“...Fine, it was Adrian Schnieder, Annie Lockhart, and Sammy McConnor. Ya know, you’re scary when you’re mad Hales. Remind me not to get on your bad side again.”

“It was them? You hang out around them all the time, I thought you were good friends. Why would they do that?”

Even though she couldn’t see you, you shrugged. “I dunno. I think they were just jealous. They’re assholes and I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it a lot sooner. I’m sorry they put you through that, you didn’t deserve what they did to you.”

“God (y/n),” she sighed out, you imagined that she was running a hand through her hair. “I can’t imagine how much that hurt you. You four were really close.”

“I know, but it was a long time coming. Like I said, I should’ve noticed that it was them. They’ve always been toxic as hell.”

“How’d you find out? What happened?”

“Did you hear about what they did to me yesterday?”

“Should I? If you’re not comfortable talking about it, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re gonna hear about it eventually, shit spreads like wildfire at Klinkver. Long story short, they outed me to the entire school and thought that I was only friends with them to get in their pants. They basically told me to kill myself,” you added nonchalantly. “But that’s not the important part about this. They told me that they were the people that took those pictures of you.”

“...(Y/n), how could you say that’s not important! They fucked up your life and all you care about is my pictures? What’d they say they’d do with yours?”

“I asked them to not leak them until after the match tonight so you could have the spotlight. You deserve it after all the hard work you’ve put in to get team captain. Zuri was hard to beat and you deserve the recognition for that.”

You heard her take a deep breath through her nose, “(y/n), for once in your life care about yourself over others. You’re gonna be exposed to the entire school and it bothers me that you’re being so nonchalant about that.”

“They’ve put me through worse. Besides,” you wove a hand in the air, “it’ll all blow over sooner or later when another person gets their nudes leaked. You remember how fast people forgot about Marlene’s nudes when May’s got leaked like a week later.”

“Still, it’s degrading to have people see you like that. No matter how fast they get over it, it doesn’t change the fact that they’ve seen you. You can’t come back from that sweetheart.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname. Even if she called almost everybody that, you felt special. “I don’t care if people see my boobs, it wasn’t even a clear picture anyways. It was hella blurry.”

Your door swung open for the second time today. There stood Tommy, his eyes peering innocently at you. “Dad wanted me to tell you to hurry up.”

You smiled at him, “thank you buddy. Let him know I’ll be down in a minute. Oh, and thank you for the candy, it really made me happy.”

He beamed brightly before he sprinted down the stairs. “Was that Tommy? Is he gonna be at the match tonight?”

“Of course, he and Tubbo are our team’s mascots after all. They would never miss a game, especially our final match.”

“I can’t wait to see them, but we need to talk about this. It’s more serious than you paint it as. How are you not pissed at those dumbasses? You trusted them and they betrayed you.”

“Oh, believe me I’m furious. Heh, I’m actually kinda shaking right now because of how pissed I am. But for now, I’m just gonna imagine their faces on the ball so I can keep my mind off them until tomorrow.”

“...Please don’t tell me you’re gonna do something stupid tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t call it stupid per se, they deserve it for what they put you through. It’s more getting justice than being stupid.”

“(Y/n), I swear to god if you start a fight just to get back at them for me, I’m gonna slap you. Think about yourself every once and a while, they put you through so much. If you feel comfortable, you’re gonna tell me everything they did to you tonight on the bus coming home.”

“So we’re gonna sit together?” You tried and failed to stomp the hopeful tone from your voice.

Her laugh sounded angelic in your ear, “of course we are silly, you’re my best friend. I gotta go, my dad’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“See ya!” When you hung up, you danced around your room with joy. You- no, they- didn’t ruin your friendship with Haley after all! Oh, you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest with joy. Even if she didn’t like you like you adored her, you still cherished your friendship. Looking back, Haley and the team always had your back, they genuinely cared about you. They were perhaps the only ones you would fully trust in the future. 

“(Y/N), HURRY UP YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Tommy’s voice outside your door shook you from your happy dance. “Coming!”

You ran to the bathroom and hastily went through your routine. Despite your rushing, you tried your best to look presentable. You were going to prove those snakes wrong, you were beautiful no matter what you wore or how you looked.

After running down the stairs with your bag, your dad stopped you before you could run out the door with your keys. “You look nice today hun.”

“Thanks Dad, I just wanted to dress up a bit for finals today. I’m honestly really pumped to play tonight.”

“That’s good,” he smiled at you before pulling you into a quick hug. “Just take it easy today, you need to save your energy for the match tonight... Listen, I don’t know what happened to you this morning and I don’t know exactly what’s going on in your life right now, but just know that I’m always gonna be here for you. Whether you need help with homework, advice, or if you want me to beat up someone else’s dad for you,” he chuckled, “I’ll do it.” 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, happy with the contact. You two stood in the hall for a moment before he pulled away and told you to leave for school. 

The drive to the school was uneventful with your brothers mainly holding up the conversation. As you pulled into the parking lot, you realized that you needed to catch up on two full days of stats homework.

“Hey Tech?” He hummed, looking over to you.

“Sorry, but would I be able to maybe copy your stats notes from Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll give em to you so you can copy it before school starts. We’d have to go to Mr. Mullins for yesterday’s notes though. We can just ask him about it before school starts.”

As you pulled into a space and moved to leave the car, a hand stopped you. “(Y/n), if any of those two-faced bitches bother you at all, let us know. Don’t deal with this on your own, we’re here for you,” Wilbur said genuinely.

“Yeah, if they say anything bad about you, it’s on sight.”

You laughed, “thanks guys, I’ll let you guys know if they do anything. We gotta get going though if Tech and I wanna get those notes done.”

In the school, you and Techno successfully got your notes done before the first bell rang. The rest of class went by without a hitch with you actually somewhat understanding mostly everything being taught. You even got a question right when you were called on! Turns out not feeling weighed down by toxic people helps a lot with concentration.

The only block you were dreading was the second block. You were sure that if you even glanced at Annie and Adrian, you’d go apeshit on them. Luckily for them, they didn’t show up to class today. They were probably comforting Annie after you “manipulated” her, you thought with an eye roll. Today was just another work day, so you pulled out your laptop and opened Google Docs. You saw Annie’s and Adrian’s unfinished and you were slapped in the face with inspiration. 

They were still expecting you to finish their essays, so you were gonna finish them alright. You were going to completely rewrite their essays all about how they were terrible homophobes and how LGBT+ people are always facing some form of discrimination amongst their peers, complete with attached screenshots of them calling you slurs over text. You’d even write a little note at the beginning that would tell your teacher that they didn’t write this, but they made you write it so you deserved the credit for it. You didn’t care that this would take a while, the satisfaction that you would get would be worth it. This was going to completely screw up their grades, this essay was worth twenty five percent of your overall grade. Mr. Todd was really laid back, so he only had a few rules in the classroom. First was to respect your classmate’s time and work, second was to clean up after yourselves, and third (“the most important one” he said on the first day of school) was that he would never tolerate racism, sexism, transphobia, or homophobia in his classroom. Your masterpieces you were writing would definitely earn them a failing grade, a good scolding from Mr. Todd, and maybe a visit to the principal’s office. This would be first in a long line of gifts you have in mind for them. 

At lunch, you were slightly stumped as to where you should sit. You didn’t really know anybody in your lunch period, so you just sat at the empty table Adrian, Annie, and Sammy left for you today and ate while working on your masterpieces. Finding sources was extremely easy for you, you remembered doing extensive research about discrimination when you first found out that you weren’t the straight girl you thought you were. Luckily for you, you still had the old Google Doc full of sources you wanted to save for later. Thank you, freshman you. 

Third and fourth block went by relatively quickly, you completely finished the work in both classes with plenty of time left for you to continue typing up the essays. You had gotten Adrian’s completely done and Annie’s thesis written. Oh, revenge is sweet. You weren’t even done with what you had in store for them. 

You had their parent’s phone numbers and you got Adrian’s boss’ number from Marlene, who worked with him as a waitress. Annie’s parents were total sweethearts that would be absolutely fuming if you showed them what she said to you. You weren’t sure about Adrian’s or Sammy’s parents, but you were going to send them screenshots anyways. If Adrian’s parents were as bigoted as he was, you still had his boss to fall back on. You could email the screenshots to the principal and the athletic director so that you could have something to rely on if Sammy’s parents had the same beliefs as she did. She valued cross country more than everything, so you could fuck that up for her. Revenge never tasted so sweet to you before, it felt like you were high with how giddy you were. Techno and Wilbur were going to love this. 

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[syllvane]

muscle memory pt. 6- sylvie x reader

a/n: here it is, clocking in at a whopping 2.4k words!! spoilers for the middle and end of episode 3 and for the beginning of episode 4! this is very plot heavy, but i hope you guys enjoy it!

read the previous part     read the next part     read the series  

Your whole body ached and it was only then, laying face down in the purple dirt of Lamentis, did you realize how tired you were.

Well, you supposed that on the side of the train tracks seemed as good as a place as any to take a nap.

“Give me the TemPads,” You heard Sylvie say nearby and what sounded like her pulling out her dagger not long after.

Right.

You groaned slightly as you stood up, regaining your bearings as Sylvie held her dagger to Loki’s throat.

Loki looked over at you.

“Is she always this violent?”

You looked at her, tilting your head slightly, opening your mouth to answer before Sylvie shot you a look. You closed your mouth.

“The TemPads, now,”

Loki held his hands up defensively before opening up a little pocket in space and time to reveal the TemPad smoking, crumbling into nothing as Loki held it.

He opened up a second pocket in space and time to reveal the same thing- wait, when had he taken your TemPad from you?

Sylvie lowered her dagger, her hands shaking slightly and you felt yourself going perfectly still.

Nothing like realizing that you’re going to die to sober you up.

“Oops.”

“You asshole. You killed us!”

For a second, you were worried that Sylvie was going to pull her dagger on him again, though your worries were abated when she walked past him, letting out a pulse of green magic as she screamed.

She sat down on a rock a little bit ahead, all of the fight seeming to leave her body.

You walked past where Loki was standing, patting him on the shoulder gently as you passed him before sitting down next to Sylvie, your knee touching hers.

“I’m sorry,” You told her and she scoffed.

“Everything I’ve done has been in the name of getting you back and making a life for us. Now all of that is gone. We’re going to die on this moon.”

“Not all of it.”

She looked at you.

“What?”

“Not all of it is gone. I’m right here,” You grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re not alone anymore.”

She stared down at your intertwined hands for a couple of seconds before looking back up at you and the way that she looked at you... the way that she looked at you made you feel silly for ever believing that she wouldn’t love you. 

“I missed you so much. I’m still angry, don’t get me wrong, I’m just.. I missed you,” She told you and before you could respond, Loki walked over to where the two of you were sitting, standing in front of you both, demanding your attention without saying a word.

“I have an idea.”

“What?” Sylvie asked shortly. 

“The Ark- before you say it, I know that it gets destroyed before it makes it off the moon, blah blah blah, but it’s never had us.”

No one spoke for a couple of moments.

“We hijack the Ark and get it off the moon,” Sylvie said and Loki nodded. “It’s better than just sitting here and dying, I’ll give you that.”

Both Sylvie and Loki looked at you expectantly.

Truthfully? You would rather die here than risk going back to the TVA again.

There are worse things than death and you are well-acquainted with them.

And still, there is the smallest glimmer of hope in Sylvie’s eyes and you will not be the one to extinguish it.

“We don’t have much time, we need to move.”

A ghost of a smile flashed on Sylvie’s face as she stood up, helping you stand up as well.

“Wait, really?” Loki asked in disbelief, following the two of you as you started the long trek to Sharoo.

By the time you could see the skyline of the capital city, the lavender sky had deepened in color. Whether that be because night was falling on the moon, or because the planet that it had orbited around for so long was starting to block the star that had given both of them life, you weren’t completely sure.

“What if you enchanted me and walked for the both of us? Or I take a nap in my subconscious and then you could just wake me when we arrive. Yeah?”

Although Loki missed the look that Sylvie gave him, you did not.

“That’s not how enchantment works,” Sylvie said pointedly and you didn’t miss the curious expression that came onto Loki’s face.

“How does it work?”

“It’s not… fine. You want to know how enchantment works. I have to make physical contact with the target and grab hold of their mind.”

“How?”

“It depends on the mind. Most are easy and I can overtake them instantly. Others, the stronger ones, it gets tricky. I’m in control, but they’re there, too. I have to create a fantasy from their memories.”

Loki slowed down, looking at you.

“So you… you’re a Variant.” He said slowly and you nodded.

“Everyone at the TVA is.”

He completely stopped this time, staring at the two of you in shock.

“What?”

Before you could say anything else, an announcement from the Ark stated that there were only ten minutes left before launch.

“We have to hurry up if we’re going to make it,” You said and although the other two didn’t say anything, they matched your pace as you started walking faster towards Sharoo.

From the bits and pieces that you remembered about it, Asgard was one of the most beautiful places in the galaxy.

It was gold and filled with luscious green gardens and after visiting many other places in the galaxy as an agent for the TVA, you still weren’t sure if anything could compare.

Sharoo was beautiful in a completely different way.

Where Asgard was an all natural beauty, Sharoo was neon lights and graffiti and futuristic design. It probably would’ve been even more beautiful if it wasn’t illuminated by orange flames.

“Do we trust each other?” Sylvie asked.

You grabbed her hand, squeezing for a second before letting go, not needing to say anything.

“We do and we can,” Loki responded, looking around the city as well, trying to find the best vantage point to get to the Ark.

“Good. Because this is going to suck.”

Sylvie took your hand again, leading you through the crowd as Loki got onto an overturned stall.

“They’re going to let all of these people die,” You said quietly and Sylvie didn’t say anything, only squeezing your hand in reassurance.

The three of you watched as the gates that were directly in front of the Ark closed, presumably to keep the growing crowd out.

“We have to get on the Ark and make sure it takes off.”

“How?” Loki asked and you looked at your surroundings, trying to figure out the best way to access it.

“We go around,” You said and Loki jumped off his pedestal, his arm instantly around Sylvie and his hand on your shoulder as he led the two of you to an alleyway, saving the both of you from being trampled, and the three of you continued running until you reached an open space.

You all stood still for a moment, assessing the situation before you felt a sickening crack- for a moment, you were sure that you must’ve broken something, but as you looked at Sylvie and Loki, you realized that they had felt it too.

You looked at the sky above you just in time to see the jade-colored planet that had been looming above you all this time split apart- not even split apart, really, crumble was a more accurate word in this situation.

Everyone around you watched silently as the crack rang through the air, paralyzed by fear.

After the first couple of meteors hit, fear turned into panic and screams rang out all around you as people found the ability to move again.

The three of you continued running with a new sense of urgency, though this time instead of running to safety, you run right into one of the falling pieces of the planet.

Compared to this, you almost missed the pain of being thrown off the train- at least you were sure that that pain would stop. At least you knew then that Sylvie was safe.

You stood up, your ears ringing and your head spinning.

Loki was already beginning to stand up as well and you offered a hand out to Sylvie, whose eyes were still closed.

She took it, opening her eyes and letting out a shaky breath before the three of you continued running, this time into the safety of a restaurant.

“You okay?” Loki asked, posing the question to both of you.

“Yeah,” Sylvie said and you nodded as well, more focused on the other two people who had entered the restaurant.

One grabbed Sylvie’s cloak, trying to knock her off balance and she disposed of him with ease.

Loki tossed you one of his daggers and seconds later, you threw it through one of the guard’s helmets.

You walked over to where the body had fallen and grabbed it as Loki disposed of the other guard.

The three of you ran out of the other entrance, missing another meteor strike only by a couple of feet.

You continued running, Loki and Sylvie helping to navigate the collapsing city.

The sound of creaking metal filled the air and for a second, you were worried that the planet was crumbling even more, if such a thing was even possible.

When you looked up, you felt a brief sense of relief as you realized that it was only a building that was falling on you.

“I got this,” Loki said, planting his feet and Sylvie pulled you out of the way, the two of you watching as the God used his magic to suspend the falling building midair before pushing it so that it fell over the other way.

“Come on, we can still make it!” Sylvie yelled over all the noise and Loki sprinted after the two of you, joining in as you and Sylvie fought through the guards before the three of you were finally standing in front of the Ark.

It feels like a nightmare when a piece of the planet slices through the Ark in half.

For a couple of moments, the three of you are unable to do anything but stand there and watch the destruction, watching the last chance that you had of escaping Lamentis-1 go up into flames.

The guards are motionless as well, watching the thing that they had been trying so hard to protect get destroyed- you even see one kneel down on his knees, overcome with the grief of it all.

Maybe they were finally realizing what was going to happen to them.

You put your hand on Loki’s shoulder, watching his chest heave- even if he didn’t say anything, you knew that he blamed himself for the failure to save the Ark and everyone else on it.

You then lifted your hand, walking after Sylvie.

The three of you find yourself outside of the city once again, watching the smaller remnants of the planet crash into the moon. You rest your head on Sylvie’s shoulder- you didn’t want to go back to the TVA, but somehow this feels worse.

The thought of dying in the arms of the woman that you love provides very little solace in the face of imminent death.

“I’m sorry,” Loki said, taking a seat next to you. “I’m sorry that you two will never get the life you wanted.”

You didn’t look up at him, but you offered your hand to him- you both were equally to blame for getting drunk on that train. You both were responsible for the failure of Sylvie’s plan. The least you could do was offer forgiveness to him.

He took your hand hesitantly, as if you might pull away from him as soon as he grasped it.

You didn’t, and he held on.

“Well if I have to die, I’m glad it’s by her side. There’s nowhere I’d rather be at the end of the world,” You said and Sylvie looked at you with indescribable fondness and sadness. “If I can’t have a life with her, then at least I get to die with her.”

“This is how it always ends for us, isn’t it? With the end of everything as we know it,” She remarked bitterly and you shrugged, something that was difficult to do with the way your head was resting on her shoulder.

“This isn’t so bad,” You replied, watching as smaller chunks of the planet continued to impact the moon. “I mean this is awful, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not the worst way to go. Surrounded by friends.”

Loki shifted besides you and you wondered to yourself if anyone had ever called him that before- a friend.

It didn’t matter much now- soon the larger chunks of the planet would crash into the moon and the three of you would die, your words and any memory of them gone as well.

Still, they seemed to mean a lot to him and you supposed that was all that would matter, in the end.

“It won’t be long now,” Sylvie said as she rested her head against yours, watching as bigger chunks of the planet creeped closer and closer. “I didn’t say it back before, when you told me on the train. But I love you too. More than anything.”

“More than time itself?” You asked jokingly and although you couldn’t see her, you were sure that she rolled her eyes by the laugh that she let out.

“Especially more than time itself.”

You sat up and let yourself look at Sylvie one last time, wanting her face to be the last thing that you saw before it was all gone.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the impact of a large chunk heading for the three of you and with your free hand, you cupped her cheek.

Gods, you were going to miss her.

Before the impact could reach you, you saw two familiar opaque doors appear behind Sylvie and Loki and you felt your heart drop more than it had when the Ark was destroyed.

Your saviors were here, only they were here in the name of the agency that had imprisoned you in the first place.

[inventors-fair]

Guildy Conscience: Guildy Pleasures Runners-Up

I already said what I had to say in the winners post, so let’s just get into it. Congratulations to our runners-up!

Blood-Chin Butcher by @grornt​

Return of the angry clan: This time they’re GRUUL angry. Kolaghan brood, being RB, is obviously very low to the ground and aggressive, but it also had a lot of non-combat ways of messing with opponents and/or dealing damage. That makes riot a pretty good fit. I’m more sold on this for the Kolaghan brood than I would be for the Mardu clan, anyhow. The new take on Riot is interesting too: If you forego the haste and get the counter, not only does it pose a bigger threat, but it also powers up your other abilities when used as sac fodder. It might have been your intention that this ability was a one-off for the butcher, but I love the idea of a faction centered around similar abilities. I’m not too sold on the “gain 3 life” as an extra bonus here, but the idea is too solid to pass up. Also, very vivid and evocative art.

Extravagant Finale by @fractured-infinity​

I’ll admit, forecast is not a mechanic I really expected to show up this week, but I underestimated that a lot of Magic players want to reimagine bad mechanics to be good just as much as they want to make love letters to the already-good mechanics. Forecast is an excellent fit for Prismari. It gives small effects on big spells so that you still have something to do while you’re waiting to hit 6+ mana, and it fits into the flavor of essentially giving a drumroll of this big splashy thing you’re about to do. Is it even worth casting a 7 mana spell if you don’t make your opponents agonize about it for five turns first? The card itself has a lot of moving parts, but comes together decently. The damage scales with instants and sorceries in grave, which the forecast can help fuel, as well as providing treasure to get to the finale sooner. All very nice. I think the forecast just has too many things going on there, and I would have gotten rid of one of those effects myself, just to clean it up a bit.

Clans’ Diplomats by @i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​

Okay, I know I’ve been rough on your flavor text in the past, but I gotta say, this week you absolutely knocked it out of the park. Not too long or expository, hilariously punchy, and very vivid: the juxtaposition between a fine dining affair to schmooze human leaders, versus just bringing in huge cartloads of food to appease the dragonlords. Convoke for the Dromoka brood is also pretty fitting; Dragons like to have low-to-the-ground fodder to fill out the early turns, and Dromoka is one of the dragons that (I think) isn’t openly antagonistic to his followers? Anyways, using little weenies to power out your big bad dragons seems like lots of fun. Granting it so uniformly is a bit weird, since it implies more of a one-off effect (in a faction built around it, wouldn’t most of the dragons have convoke already built in?), but I appreciate the thought put into the playstyle. Flavor is an absolute A+, I just wish you played with convoke+dragons in a slightly different way. Think about how you could reward players for convoking creatures to play dragons, maybe?

And that’s that! We had a whopping 36 entries this week, so it might take a bit to churn out commentary, but hopefully you can expect to see it later this week!

judge @naban-dean-of-irritation, until next time!

[babydaddyleorio]

Tantalizing (Toji x reader)

pairings: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

word count: 1,649

summary: You are the director of a security company, charged with the simple task of selling your technology to esteemed businesses. The simple task, however, becomes more complicated than you imagined when you meet Mr.Fushiguro. Buckle up because work becomes a lot more difficult when the heart gets involved.

warnings: slight cursing, grammatical errors 

AN: y/n = your name , l/n= last name

You sat in your black, leather chair while focusing all of your attention towards decreasing the stacks of paper that were currently piled on top of your wooden desk. You had, much to your dismay, procrastinated completing your work for the past week and now you were reaping the consequences of going into overdrive. You clenched the ballpoint pen that was in your hand rather tightly, and your feet tapped against the grey carpet with impatience. You felt like banging your head against your desk, repeatedly might you add, and you probably would’ve done so if your eyes didn’t catch the shadow of someone moving towards you from your peripheral.

“Knock, knock.” Your assistant, Nadia, tapped her knuckles on your door frame while peeking her head into your office. You glanced up from your papers with low eyes as she walked towards the printer sitting in your corner, suddenly deciding to yourself that talking to her would be the perfect excuse to take a break from doing your work. You then straightened your posture and cleared your throat loudly, Nadia already rolling her eyes at your predictable behavior.

“So, Nadia-”

“No, don’t even think about it.” Nadia wagged her finger and sang her words to you in a teasing manner, simultaneously pushing buttons on the printer she stood in front of. “You are not using me to get out of your work.”

“Why nooootttt?” you groaned loudly and threw your head back against your leather chair, eyes rolling up to glare at your ceiling. Nadia turned to face you with papers in her hand, fixing her beige hijab while doing so.

“Because you have a deadline you have to meet.” Nadia stated matter of factly to which you side eyed her with annoyance.

“Deadline my ass, I’m taking a nap.” You murmured and reached over to lift a messy stack of documents so you’d have more room to sleep on your desk. Nadia furrowed her eyebrows and stormed towards you, rolling up the papers in her hand before whacking you on the head with them.

“Ouch, what was that for?” You whined while holding the top of your head, a pain now circulating in the spot that she hit. You glanced up at the annoyed woman who stood in front of you with her arms crossed and an eyebrow cocked challengingly. The thing was, Nadia was not only your assistant, but she also happened to be your best friend as well. Nobody could really tell that the two of you were close because she always kept your relationship professional and cordial while at work, but sometimes her “take no shit” side (as she would call It) would slip through the cracks of her cool façade.

“Y/n, I am this,” Nadia pinched her fingers together while shoving them in your face. “close to molly-whopping you if you don’t finish these damn papers.” 

You rolled your eyes at her threat, but still chose to pick your pen back up because you weren’t in the mood to test her right now. Once Nadia saw that you were getting back to your work, she brought her hand to her mouth and blew you a kiss.

“Love you, bestie.” She cooed in a sickly-sweet voice and turned around to strut out of your office. You looked up from your papers with squinted eyes, slyly sticking your tongue out at the back of your retreating assistant.

“Also, don’t forget that you have a meeting with the Zen’in Association in 3 hours! So chop, chop!” She called out over her shoulder with a smirk and this time you didn’t stop your head as It fell on to your desk. 

          ✧✧✧

“I think I have a wedgie.” You whispered into Nadia’s ear as you stood next to her in the elevator, hand reaching behind you to pull the annoyance out. Nadia rolled her eyes and looked at the watch on her wrist.

“At least we got here on time, although you really need to work on your driving.” She chided and you looked at her with your forehead scrunched.

“My driving is completely fine.” you scoffed, slightly offended at what your assistant was insinuating.

“Oh please, you are the definition of road rage.” She said while rubbing her temples and you clicked your tongue in disagreement.

“It’s not my fault some people are complete idiots behind the wheel.” You said and Nadia snapped her head to look at you.

“And you’re not one of them?!” She asked with her eyebrows raised high. 

You snorted as the elevator doors pulled open. The both of you walked out of It and were immediately met with the receptionist who sat behind the desk that was placed in the center of the room.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The woman asked with both hands clasped together and a smile on her face, revealing a set of deep dimples. You and Nadia walked towards her and Nadia pulled out a paper from the manila folder she had in her hands.

“We’re here for our appointment that is scheduled today.” Nadia replied and the receptionist took the paper from her hand. She then examined the white sheet, but It seemed like the more her eyes drifted over the information on the paper, the more the bright smile on her face disappeared.

“Oh.. It seems that you’ve arrived promptly for your appointment with Mr.Fushiguro.” The receptionist said, you picking up on the hint of nervousness that was now intertwined in her voice. Her sudden mood change threw you off and you wondered to yourself what would have shaken the girl up in that short amount of time.

The receptionist stood up from her rolling chair and politely told you to “hold on one second” while bowing. She then scurried off through one of the doors behind her, leaving you and Nadia standing in front of the wooden desk completely baffled.

“Well that was weird.” You said out loud and Nadia nodded in response.

“Right, I wonder what got into her...” Nadia trailed off, just as lost as you were.

Moments later, the receptionist came back, but this time an extremely tall woman followed behind her. The new woman wore a yellow, sunflower dress with white wedges on her polished feet and her faux locs pulled into a high ponytail. She had a bright smile plastered on her sun kissed face as she moved to stand in front of you.

“Good afternoon, It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I am Mr.Fushiguro’s assistant and you can call me Laila.” The woman chirped happily, extending her hand to shake Nadia and yours. The woman’s persona was a complete contradiction to the receptionist’s ghostly one and your eyes trailed back to her sitting behind the desk with her eyes now casted downward.

“Ms. L/N, I will escort you to the 1-on-1 meeting now. Your assistant can wait in the waiting room until you're done.” Laila nodded and began walking towards a hallway, beckoning for you to follow behind her.

The Zen’in headquarters was very fancy and also seemingly calm, you thought to yourself as you trailed Fushiguro’s assistant. The whole place had a dark theme going on with black marble structure, black colored furniture, black framed paintings... hell It seemed like even all the employees were clad in black- well minus Laila that is. You whistled to yourself lowly with your hands in your pant’s pockets, eyes wandering to look out the tall glass windows that framed the hallway. To be completely honest, you really wanted to skip this meeting. You would rather be at home, binging your favorite show while munching on some very questionable healthy snacks, but unfortunately you had priorities to attend to. You were in charge of a security company that dealt with supplying high-grade technology to other businesses and that is essentially why you were here today. From what you were told, the Zen’in association was run by a prestigious family, Toji Fushiguro being one of its members. You were supposed to meet with a different family member today to discuss the arrangements of your products, but for some reason you were swapped to consult with Toji instead.

Whatever, It didn’t make you any difference anyway.

“Ms. L/N, we’re here.” Laila interrupted your thoughts and you turned to see that she had stopped in front of a tall, black door. Laila then knocked twice on the smooth marble before turning the handle and stepping inside the room, you taking that as a sign to follow behind her. As soon as your foot stepped over the threshold, you took note of how the office reeked of expensiveness and still matched the dark theme that the whole building had, but It also seemed minimalistic as well. 

“I see you finally made It.” A low voice suddenly reached your ears and you whipped your head to the side to see a man that was blanketed by darkness sitting in the corner of the room. The man reached an arm behind to adjust the blinds, and you squinted your eyes at the sudden bright light that hit you, and once they adjusted they caught sight of the man’s appearance. The man wore an obsidian, polished suit with a white shirt underneath that was slightly unbuttoned. His legs were spread wide, and he had his elbow propped on the arm of the chair as the other twirled around a glass of alcohol.

“Toji Fushiguro.” The man said with eyes scanning your body, slowly moving his glass toward his mouth to take a sip from his drink. You stood immobile in your spot as you watched his veiny hand set the glass down on the table beside him and lean his body over, extending his hand for you to shake while smirking with his eyes low. “Pleasure to meet you.”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Sunflowers (Chip Fic)

Summary: Where Reader’s honey supply gets saved by an even sweeter boy named Chip. Couple: Chip Taylor/Fem!Reader Category: Pure Flowery Fluff Content Warning: None! Word Count: 3.8k

MASTERLIST

The autumn air carried with it the scent of cinnamon, cloves, and sunflowers. It sounds like it’s meant to be poetic, but really it was just the way the Farmer’s Market always smelled at this time of year. Everyone’s stalls were crammed full of every pumpkin spiced themed item you could think of. Hell, even I had something for the people addicted to the humble pumpkin pie mixture. And sure enough, the spiced honey sold the best of all my products. Typical.

Which is why I was, in my infinite wisdom, attempting to carry a stack of 3 crates of honey from my truck to my stall. It wasn’t like I was weak— I was actually relatively strong for my size. The bigger problem was that I had a complete and total lack of coordination.

I'd made it about halfway to the stall, which was a whopping 50 feet away, when I felt the telltale wobble of the top crate. I knew then that, despite my best efforts, it would only be a matter of seconds until all of the crates crashed onto the ground. So, naturally, the best thing to do was close my eyes and hope, right?

Didn’t matter. That’s exactly what I did. But, to my surprise, I didn’t hear the unmistakable crashing of glass and wood against the asphalt. For a moment I wondered if I’d actually somehow managed to kill myself in the calamity, but then I heard his joke.

“Are you okay?”

I opened my eyes, slowly at first in preparation for the mess that should have been in front of me. But I didn’t find a mess. No, I found a very attractive man, struggling to readjust the two crates that had almost fallen before he apparently caught them midair.

“Miss?” he spoke again, and the sound luckily managed to rattle my brain back into place.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry!”

What was I apologizing for? I didn’t know, but it felt necessary.

“I’m fine. Well, better now that I didn’t just smash honey everywhere! I swore I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

He lowered the crates to the ground, looking back at me as I still barely held onto the one in my hand. I, however, was still blubbering like an idiot. I wasn’t sure what exactly the look on his face was, but I think it was something between confusion and intrigue.

I blew out a deep breath, setting my crate on top of the two he’d so kindly stacked before resting my hand on the top.

“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I’d be a mess without you… literally.”

“No problem," he answered with a shrug, almost like his response was purely on instinct. Of course, the longer I looked at him, the more I realized that it probably was. There was a kindness and simplicity to the man; he seemed like he was just wandering through life, trying to find a way to be the happiest he could be.

“Do you... need help?” he asked after a long pause, his eyes stuck to the three heavy crates under my palm.

I joined him in looking at it, and I grimaced as I considered the second incoming humiliation.

“You really are a sweet thing,” I mumbled, “I’d love a spare hand, but I’d hate to take it from you.”

The man smiled, tucking his lips into his mouth while he tried not to laugh at my horrible joke. Before he said anything else, he leaned over and picked up the three crates with ease. In my defense, though, he was taller than me, so it was easier for him to see over the wood.

“I can keep my hands and still help you.” He tilted his head to the side to look at me around the honey. His own attempt at a bad joke landed spectacularly well with me, although I didn’t have any doubt that he was capable of making me laugh.

“Pfft! You’re funny. I might want to keep you if you keep that up.”

With a wave of my hand, he followed me in walking the short distance to the stall and lowered the crates onto the ground with more grace than I would have been capable of. He shook out his arms in a manner reminiscent of a puppy that had just gotten out of a pool, and I giggled at the sight.

“So... what’s your name, my mysterious hero?” I asked, leaning against the crates and taking my time inspecting the man before me now that there was nothing blocking my vision.  If he noticed my shameless ogling, he said nothing of it.

“Chip," he answered simply, still smiling as he allowed the colors of the flowers covering the booth to distract his eye.

“Chocolate or butterscotch?”

He furrowed his brows, clicking his tongue before he shoved his hands in his pocket, his body settling into place as he accepted my overt invitation to talk.

“What do you mean?”

“What kind of Chip?” I clarified, crossing my arms over my chest. Although everyone swears it’s a defensive maneuver, I really just wanted to draw his attention to the area (I meant it when I said I was shameless). It worked, his eyes trailing up and down my body as he licked his lips.

Once he arrived back to my face, he realized I was still waiting for his response. Clearing his throat, he scratched the  back of his head as he puffed out his cheeks in way too much thought for such a simple question. But when he did answer, it was definitely worth the wait.

“Honestly, I’m probably more of a potato.”

Bursting into laughter, I doubled forward at the remarkably honest answer. Not that I was entirely surprised; like I’d mentioned when I first saw him, the man named Chip seemed nothing if not genuine.

“My favorite,” I finally managed, stepping past him to grab something from a crate in the back.

“Mine too.”

I could feel his eyes burning into me when I bent over to rummage through the boxes. This time it wasn’t actually on purpose, but I appreciated the attention, anyway. Most of the people who came to the market were middle aged women or the kind of guys who spent thirty minutes telling me that the concept of buying flowers for women was based on an idealized fantasy that should be abolished.

Chip didn’t seem to mind the flowers, though. If anything, he seemed to like them. In fact, when I turned back around, he quickly averted his eyes to the closest bundle beside him in an attempt to look like he hadn’t been checking me out.

“Well, I don’t have any potato chips but…” I chuckled, tossing him a small bag that he almost didn’t catch. “I do have some of these to pay you back.”

After getting over the initial shock of having something thrown at him, he inspected the little pouch of sunflower seeds with delight.

“Oh, thanks!” he squeaked, his voice jumping an octave in seconds, “I wasn’t expecting anything! I just… wanted to help.”

He almost seemed embarrassed to admit it.

“I don’t like owing people stuff, you know?” I shrugged.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” He was adamant in that response, raising his eyebrows as his eyes widened to comical proportions. But once he managed to open the packet of seeds, he returned to his normal adorable face, happily munching away and spitting the spent shells into the mulch circle of the tree grate beside us.

After a second of staring rather rudely at him, I started to unpack the rest of my booth, arranging the flowers in various areas as he watched me from the corner. It probably should have been unnerving, but it wasn’t. His presence was… warm and appreciated.

“So you uh... you really like flowers, huh?” he articulately stated, tilting his head nearly ninety degrees at me as I continued to arrange the flowers.

“You could say that,” I agreed, glancing back over at him every few seconds to see that he was, in fact, still watching me carefully.

I’d figured that as soon as I’d given him the seeds he would have left, but it only seemed to make him want to stay longer. He leaned against the trunk of the tree, a sure sign that he wasn’t ready to leave. Without turning to look at him, I asked the only question that was on my mind, albeit predictable and a little cheesy.

“Do you have a favorite flower, Chip?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied with very little thought. The answer was as predictable as my question.

“You don’t strike me as the type of guy to think flowers are just for girls.”

I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice with the sound of rustling jars as I moved a few jars of honey onto the display.

“I don’t. Just never had any flowers, so I don’t have a favorite.”

As I carefully decorated the spread, I smiled at his words in a way that he wouldn’t be able to see. It was a little silly, considering how bold I’d been with him earlier, but the longer I talked to him, the more I wanted him to actually like me. Not just in a shameless flirting way, but in a hey-maybe-we-should-get-to-know-each-other kind of way.

“Good. You’re too cute to be tarnished that easily,” I sighed, grabbing a tiny piece of baby’s breath before I turned around. Without giving him a chance to react, I stuck the stem behind his ear. “And if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think anyone’s ever bought me flowers, either.”

He twitched a bit at the sensation and sudden movement, but then flashed a smile that took up nearly all of his face.

“You run a shop full of them. I figured you’d be sick of them," he mumbled, straining his eyes to try and spot the little white buds from the corner of his eyes.

“There’s just something about... learning how other people see you, you know?” I huffed, taking a seat on my stool so that I could be a similar height to him. I gestured to the flowers around me before I spoke. “Like, what kind of girl do you think I am?”

I hadn’t actually intended for it to be a question aimed at him, but he clearly took it as such. He scanned the colors surrounding us, a clear expression of thought on his face. I might have noticed more emotions if I wasn’t so distracted by the way his tongue flipped the seeds in his mouth.

“I don’t know anything about flowers," he concluded with a shrug, turning back to me and hopefully missing the hearts that had formed in my eyes. “You seem pretty nice, though.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Once again, the conversation died out. It was the perfect opportunity for Chip to make his escape from the sticky confines of my booth, but he didn’t. I was beginning to learn that was another trait of his: the genuine and persistent potato Chip.

“Do you have a favorite flower?”

He seemed to know it was a stupid question as he asked it, which only made it more endearing.

“Sure do,” I responded, dragging out the interaction as much as I could. The romantic in me wanted him to guess, although I realized he likely didn’t know enough about flowers to name more than a few. But he definitely knew about my favorite.

“What is it?” he asked through a mouthful of seeds he carefully sectioned off in his mouth.

I had to laugh when I turned to see his cheeks filled like a chipmunk who’d just found a nut.

“You’re eating it.”

“Sunflowers?” he slurred, his voice muffled as he quickly cleared the way for his tongue to enunciate again.

“That’s the one.”

Looking down at the bag in his hands, I could see the calculations rolling through his head before he’d even said what he was thinking.

“Aren’t they like… giant?”

I scoffed at the question, wondering how on earth he managed to know about mammoth flowers but not the dwarf variety. Standing back up, I opened the crate I’d honestly forgotten about, revealing a bundle of the very same flowers.

“Some of them,” I explained, spreading the stems out in my fingers to show him.

“They still look pretty big to me," he playfully replied. But when I didn’t dignify it with a response, he asked the question I was hoping he would ask.

“Why are they your favorite?”

“Hmm. Well, they’re a very romantic flower. The Greeks believed that they were created because a water nymph was so in love with Apollo, the Sun God, that she would watch him all day as he moved across the sky. And as the time passed, her adoration and loyalty were unwavering. Then, one day, she turned into a flower.”

I knew I was ranting a little bit, and really, I should be embarrassed to be rambling to a cute boy who probably didn’t realize what he’d signed up for. But he seemed so… excited to hear me talk about it. His body even leaned towards me, much like a child during story time. So, I kept going.

“And even now, she continues to watch the man she loved. At least, that was their explanation for why sunflowers follow the sun. Just a young girl in love with a beautiful man.”

When I turned to look at Chip’s reaction, he wore the most horrified face I’d ever seen. His mouth dropped open to reveal a shell sat in the middle of his tongue, he didn’t even bother spitting it out before he grumbled, “That sounds awful.”

“Yeah, I guess it kind of is,” I said, scratching the back of my ear as I scrambled to justify my undeniably morbid, romantic ways. It was easier than I thought it would be, considering I had such a wonderful example of positivity and the sun in my sights.

“Sunflowers also represent happiness and endurance through hardship. It’s pretty cool, how hard they fight to survive. Even if you plant them in ruins, they’ll grow. In fact, they soak up radiation!”

Chip started to choke as I finished that sentence. I bolted over to him to try and help, but he waved me off with a shocked look on his face. He gestured to the bag in his hands, holding his finger up to me with concern.

“Wait...” The cogs slowly turned in his head, his voice low and cautious as he asked, “So are these dangerous? Am I eating radiation?”

I thought he was joking. I honestly thought it was a joke, but the harder I laughed, the more he looked around like he would drop dead any second and needed a witness to my slaughter.

“What, do you think I’m trying to poison you, Chip?” I managed to say through the laughter, wiping the tears that had started to form under my eyes. I’d blame it on allergies, but the truth was that I was just a girl, staring at the sun in the form of a man.

And that man was wearing a giant pout.

“No, they aren’t radioactive!” I assured him, digging my hand into the pouch still in his hand to grab a few of the seeds and pop them into my mouth.

“See?” I asked as I crunched the shells, leaning past him to spit the shells into the grate.

He seemed charmed by the nonchalance I exhibited in response to his very real fear that I was trying to murder him, which was a distressing but somehow still cute reaction. Once he knew his life wasn’t in danger, Chip laughed with me at his own humiliation.  

“Good… ‘cause honestly I only have a few brain cells left and I’d like to keep them.”

That led to me pouting, too, a little hurt by how easily he insulted himself. Stuck between teasing him with a jab about how that was my job and actually saying something nice, I opted for the latter.

“You’re too cute to be real.”

Truthfully, I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but once it had left my mouth, I knew there was no taking it back.

“Thanks... I think?” he muttered.

For the first time in the conversation, I didn’t let the silence happen. My next question also came without thinking, and a little louder than it should have been.

“S-So, do you have a girlfriend, Chip?”

“No.” He shook his head as he said the word, his mouth twisted to the side as he chewed on his lower lip.  

“Good. You better not, with all the flirting you’ve let me do.”

The cheeky, confident side of me had returned with the reassurance, although I don’t think Chip realized that’s what was happening. He mostly just seemed confused, which was pretty on brand for him.

“Flirting?”

“You weren’t kidding about those brain cells, huh?” I shot back, but immediately regretted it. I shouldn’t be insulting the poor guy, but his puppy dog eyes were just so darned cute. “Sorry! That was mean. It was just an easy joke.”

He accepted my apology, albeit without removing his pout and refusing to look at me.

“What about you?” he followed, tucking the last of the sunflower seeds in his pocket. I wondered if that meant he was leaving soon.

“My brain cells?”

“No!” he laughed, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Do you... do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope. It’s just me.”

I waited, hoping that he would have something else to say. But pretty soon I got anxious that his silence meant he was also waiting for me to say something, so then I just said the stupidest thing that came to my mind.

“Until they let me marry a sunflower, anyway.”

“I think they’d be pretty boring to talk to," he replied, sounding almost jealous of the golden flowers that paled in comparison to him.

“Talking to plants can actually be pretty soothing. And it’s good for the flowers,” I corrected.

Chip looked at me like he’d heard it before, a little amused at my fascination with the flora and filled with a desire to get me back for all my teasing.

“Where I come from talking to yourself just makes you a crazy person," he joked, taking a step closer to me so that I had to look up at him when he spoke.

“Do I seem like a crazy person to you?” I answered, crossing my arms again as I stood my ground.  

“No?”

Ignoring the fact that it was phrased like a question, and the fact that a few minutes ago, he'd thought I was trying to murder him, I nodded.

“Then I think we’re all good.”

It took me a minute, but eventually the close contact became overwhelming, and I nearly fell over in my attempt to take a step back. Before I could collapse over the crates behind me, Chip caught me the same way he’d caught the honey before. It was hard for me to realized it had only been a few minutes with him.

And now it was ending.

“Well... guess I should let you get back to people who actually know what they’re doing here," he nervously chuckled, letting go of me and playing with the hem of his shirt, instead. There was something so childlike in his mannerisms that made me want to squeeze the life out of him.  

But at the same time, I saw something else in him. A desire to be noticed and loved the same way he did for other people. Part of me was a little intimidated by it; unsure that I could ever give him that kind of attention.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” I conceded to my fears, stepping aside to return to my seat behind the display.

Chip took his time stepping around the stall, looking down at the different stuff I’d laid out for the other patrons. His hand hovered over the sunflowers, but before he picked it up, he looked up at me.

“Actually, before I go, could I buy one of these from you?”

“S-Sure!” I squeaked, bending over to grab my cash box from the shelf beneath me. I wasn’t really paying attention to his movements, although I saw him rifling through the different blooms to pick his favorite. I had finally gotten the box open and taken his money when I tried to maintain my proud facade with yet another jest.

“I swindled you, huh?”

“Not exactly, it’s just...” he trailed off before clearing his throat. He stepped back over to my side of the stall, holding out the flower with a hesitant hand.

I didn’t take it, just staring at the flower in his hand with an open mouth and stars in my eyes. He held it out further, urging me to take it with an unsure smile as he bit down on his lip.

“Someone else really should’ve done this by now. But they didn’t so... Take it.”

My hands were shaking as I took the flower from him, and I wondered if the heat forming in my face was because of the blood or because he really was the Sun God that I was destined to stare at until I bloomed.

He waited for a few more seconds for a different reaction, but he unfortunately didn’t get one. In a way, he seemed okay with that.

“I heard they’re your favorite," he cheekily whispered before he gave a small wave. “Bye. And thanks for the not-radioactive snack.”

In that moment, I understood why sunflowers follow the sun. Because watching Chip walk away made the colorful surroundings feel so dull and lifeless. I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him to stay; I wanted to figure out all the different ways he could smile and how to summon them. I wanted to drown in his warm syrup colored eyes.

So, summoning all of the courage and stupidity I could, I bolted after him.

“Chip, wait!”

Hearing me a second too late, Chip turned around just in time for me to barrel straight into him. He was prepared for it, though, and I couldn’t blame him for expecting me to make a fool of myself. His hands grabbed my arms to steady me, and I took the opportunity to bounce up on my toes, my lips connecting with his cheek for just a few seconds.

“Thank you,” I said under my breath, nervously glancing up at him to see his response.

In typical Chip fashion, he seemed confused as to why I was thanking him at all. I held up the sunflower that I hadn’t even realized was still in my hand, speaking matter-of-factly as I explained, “Thank you for the flower.”

With his hand rising to his cheek, Chip tried to cover the small blush forming over his face. Luckily for me, though, he couldn’t. His dimples forming as his smile grew, he nodded back at me.

“You’re welcome.”

(Tell me what you thought of this piece here!)

[indefiniteimagines]

Not Even For A Minute || Poussey Washington Imagine *Requested*

Summary: Poussey has a crush on the reader and thinks she doesn’t like her back, but she does.

Pairing: Poussey Washington x Reader

Warnings: Fem!reader, lewd language/comments, language, reader doesn’t have a preferred sexual orientation, use of R slur, angst, fluff

A/N: Holy shit! This is my first piece of writing in actually only a couple of months, but I’m claiming years because I am officially back like I was in high school. I’m so sorry if this is not my best, I am EXTREMELY rusty, so take it easy on me for now :) 

It was dinner time at Lichfield and it was only my second meal in my new home. My new home filled with almost 200 other women. For the next 5 years, I will see the inside of this cafeteria 3 times a day, 21 times a week, 1,095 times a year and a whopping 5,473 times in total. You’re probably wondering why that matters, but it matters.

I take my tray and do a quick search for a place to sit. I find a spot at the very end of one of the middle tables. It was the only seat with no one in a two foot radius of me. I sit down and look at the food in front of me. My first dinner includes spaghetti, two mini oranges, a salad, and a brownie. It’s not horrible when you think about it. It’s a pretty standard meal. Well it would be without the questionable odor coming from the meatballs. I close my eyes and sigh. 

“Maybe she’s deaf.”

“She ain’t deaf.”

“HELLO!”

“She can’t hear you if she’s deaf, dummy.”

“Fine, then you try, Angie.”

I was so deep in my own world that I almost didn’t notice the cherry tomato that hit me in my head. 

“Hey, girl!”

I opened my eyes and looked to my left.

“Are you talking to me?” I asked with a hint of a nervous tone.

“Uh yeah, have been for the last 5 hours. You retarded or something?”

“5 hours ago? No that can’t be right. Remember, we was in the laundry room 5 hours ago, Tucky.”

“Jesus, Angie! I was being snide.”

“You mean sarcastic?”

“Snide means sarcastic.”

“Then why not just say sarcastic?”

I watched as “Tucky” closed her eyes and tilted her head in annoyance.

“I’m sorry, but did you guys need something?”

Tucky’s eyes snapped open, “Uh, yeah. Why’re you sitting here?” She took her bottom lip into her mouth as she waited for my response.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was sitting here.”

“She never said that,” Angie said while flashing her pearly browns.

“I’m confused.”

“Wow maybe she really is retarded,” Angie said.

“Tucky” nodded at Angie, “I think you’re right, Ang. Here, I’ll break it down real slow like for you: You don’t belong here.”

“Look, I don’t want any trouble. Just let me finish my dinner and I’ll never sit with you again.” I tried to reason with the little troll, but she just wasn’t having it. 

She nodded her head while picking up her milk carton. She then poured it all over my food. “Seems to me like you’re done.”

All I could do was stare with my mouth open. 

“Why did you do that?!”

“BECAUSE YOU DON’T BELONG HERE!” She screamed as she stood up and let one of her fist hit the metal table.

“Dogget! You’re done! Empty your tray.” A CO finally intervened from the next row over. Dogget and her Meth Mates got up from the table and walked out. 

All I could do was sit there with my head hanging low as I let a few tears escape. I’m not usually this weepy, but in my defense, all I wanted was that little brownie...which was now swimming in a pool of used milk. 

*A few tables over*

“Fuck was that about?” Poussey asked her family as she nodded her head over to the other table; finally arriving with her tray. 

“Mmmm, Meth Mouth and her cult were fuckin’ with one of the newbies,” Janae replied in the middle of finishing her bite.

Poussey hovered over her chair to get a good look at the bothered inmate and sat back down while shaking her head. 

After having a mini pity party for myself, I got up and dumped my spoiled tray before leaving the cafeteria. I go back to my temporary bunk and buried myself under my blanket. 

“Cheer up, Kid. You’ll be out of here sooner than you know.”

I gave a pitiful grin to the nice older woman.

“I like your eyeshadow.”

“Duh,” she said as she threw me a wink.  

I let out a sigh, got comfortable and laid in my bed until morning.

I finally fell asleep, but only for 2 hours. At the ass crack of dawn, I was woken up by the morning announcement, which had absolutely no enthusiasm. “Good morning, ladies. Try to seize the day. The world is your oyster.”

“You’d think she’d quit if she hates her job so much.” That was the first time I heard the redhead with the horrible bed head speak.

“Bell is about as enthusiastic as a wet bag of hair, but she’s one of the good ones.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said groggily.  

“You joining us for breakfast?”

I drifted back to sleep before I could hear her response. I woke up in what seemed like an hour, but was only 30 minutes. For the slightest second I forgot where I was. I opened my eyes and was met with DeMarco standing right in front of me.

“Well good morning sleepyhead! Nice of you to join the living.”

“What? What time is it?”

“You see a clock in here? What I do know is that you got 10 minutes left for breakfast. You better hurry.”

I hop down off my bunk and start to change.

“Thanks.” 

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

I gave her a shrug as I zipped up my jacket and headed for breakfast. I arrived in the cafeteria and was able to get my food right away since there was no line. Some tables are still filled, but some are also empty. I scan the room and pick the table farthest away from Doggett and her followers. I was in the middle of eating my eggs when Angie walked by and sneezed on my tray. 

“Oops, ‘scuse me,” she said with a shit eating grin.

“God damnit,” I whisper to myself while trying not to deck this bitch.

“You shouldn’t say the Lord’s name in vain like that.”

I look up at her through hooded eyes, “Walk the fuck away.” My voice was low and I kind of scared myself.

“Oooo, devil eyes. Hey! She’s got devil eyes,” she says louder than the first time, except now she’s giggling and pointing at me while backing away. Doggett sucks her bottom lip at me while flipping her hood and getting up to walk out. I can feel people starring so I do a very quick observation and then stand up to leave. 

“Empty your tray,” the guard at the door told me. “Get some coffee while you’re at it. It’ll help you stay full until lunch.”

 I look up at his name that’s stitched into his shirt. Ohhhh, so this is O’Neil. I heard some of the girls talking about his scandalous relationship with CO Bell. Good for them. I turned around and went to dump my tray before following the advice and going for the coffee. 

“Yo, why they always fucking with her?” Poussey asked the table as she watched in disapproval as Y/N dumped her tray.

“Why do you care?” Taystee asked while rolling her eyes.

“For real? You ain’t notice that ever since China got out, Prince Charming over here been lookin’ for a new helpless, basket case? I mean, shit.”

“Aye don’t talk about Brook like that. Not cool, Cindy.”

“ “Cindy”? Bitch, fuck you think you is? My mama? Ugh, check ya tone.”

“Whatever man. I’m just tired of seeing Meth Madness fuck with people like they run the place.”

“Again, why do you care?”

“Shit just ain’t right, is all.”

“Mmmhmm,” Taystee replied as they got up from the table.

I turn around after filling my mug and notice that it’s just me, the inmates that clean up and the CO’s supervising them. I carry my warm mug through the halls and I notice there’s not as many people crowding them as there were last night. 

“Inmate! Where you are supposed to be?”

“Uhm, I’m not really sure.”

“Wrong answer!”

“Wrong?”

“Don’t get smart with me. Jefferson! Tell inmate...Y/L/N where she’s supposed to be.”

“Well, since it’s after lunch, we’re supposed to be headed to our work detail. Not whatever you was doing, apparently.”

The tall guard with the creepy mustache looked down at me and raised his eyebrows.

“Thank you, Jefferson.”

“I don’t have a work detail yet.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. When he opens them he looked back at Jefferson, “you work in the library, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Take her with you.”

She sucked her teeth, “Man, what do I say when someone asks why she’s there? No offense, but I ain’t taking no shots just because she’s somewhere she’s not supposed to be.”

“What’s a shot?”

“Jesus fuck. Will you both get out of my goddamn sight?” 

He snatched my mug; Jefferson and I gave each other a look and started towards the library. When we got there it was almost empty.

“You know, the labels are there to help the books be put back in their respectful place, not to look cute. I mean, damn.” I notice Jefferson chuckle at the girl we hear before seeing. She’s talking to a pair of inmates who are whispering to each other before tossing another book down and scurrying off. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” she calls after them, but to no avail. She sighs to herself before returning back to work. 

“Hey, P! Whatchu up to?”

“Practically cleaning up behind bitches. I mean, why is it so hard to put a book back in its original spot? Jane Eyre belongs in literature, not SAT Prep,” she called back.

“Truly first world problems,” Jefferson said unamused.

“Yooo, you ever heard of “Oedipus”? It’s mad crazy. Like this one part where the main dude...” she kept talking as she rounded the corner to finally come face to face with us.

“...who’s this?”

“Our puppy dog for the day,” Jefferson said as she rolled her eyes.

“Oh alright then. Well I’m working over here in history. Y’all can start in fiction. It’s a fuckin mess over there.”

“Um, then why don’t we all work in fiction?”

“Did you not hear me say it’s a fuckin mess? Have fun.”

I walked away, smiling to myself. I didn’t think anyone here would care for books like I did.

After the work day was over, I separated from the two friends and went back to my temporary bunk until dinner. The next day I followed Jefferson back into the library.

“Oh, puppy dog is back.”

Jefferson turned her head to me, “Don’t you know when you gettin your work detail yet?“

“Sorry, still no.”

“As much as I’m sure you love the view you get, I’m gettin tired of you following me.”

“I can ask someone if I can work somewhere else.”

“T-ha! And make me look like a problem? I think not.”

“Nah, we could use the extra help in here since bitches can’t put shit back where it’s supposed to go. Hate to break it to y’all, but foreign language is even worse than fiction was.”

“My god. Can’t you help us over here instead of doing whatever it is the fuck you doin?”

“Uh no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m President of the Library.”

“Says who!?”

“Suzanne,” she said as a matter of fact while leaning forward to show us her ID that read “President Washington: Library”.

“Aw damn. It’s official and everything. Man, that’s some bull shit,” Jefferson said as she walked away.

All I did was look at the Presidential badge and smile.

“Since you don’t complain like some people, just know you’re first in line for Vice President. Just don’t tell Taystee,” she told me on the sly.

“Taystee?”

“Jefferson.”

“Ohh, got it.”

“I’m Poussey, by the way,” she said extending her hand.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah you too.”

She has a beautiful smile.

Towards the end of the work day, I found myself near Poussey’s section. Since our work for the time being is pretty much done, I start to browse the shelves when I spot a book dear to my heart, “Alice in Wonderland”. I get a mini rush of serotonin and pop a squat up against one of the shelves. I lose track of time, until I realize I no longer see anyone. “Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality”. You are right about that, Mr. Carroll.

“Hello?” I’m immediately startled. I start to shuffle to my feet and by the time I stand, I’m met with someone else.

“Whoa, shit. My bad. I didn’t think anyone else was in here.” Shit, I must’ve I said that out loud.

“Sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

“It’s cool. So you haven’t been assigned a work duty yet, huh?”

I shook my head.

“I, uh, I must admit that this is the best job. Call me bias, but it’s the truth.”

“Thanks,” I say with a slight smile.

“You’re the one Pennsatucky and her crew keep messing with.”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Y’all got beef on the outside or something?”

“No, but I found it’s better to not provoke a methed out mental case.”

“Not wrong there. Well, I’ll see you around. Oh and be careful with Alice, she’s my favorite.”

The next few days were the same. I would follow Taystee into the library and listen to her and Poussey be absolute clowns. Poussey and I got to be closer since we were usually the last two to leave. We talked about how much time we have, our family, and she even told me about the Vee drama. During my stint of unpaid work in the library, I was finally able to change out of the highlighter jumpsuit and into a khaki set.

After an hour or so into a shift, I found myself distracted with my favorite book, “In Five Years”.

“Oh uh, that goes on the second to last shelf right behind you.”

“Huh? Oh yeah. It was actually already in the right spot, but it’s one of my favorites,” I tell her as I put the book back.

“What’s it about?”

“This woman named Dannie-“

“Y/L/N!”

We both looked towards the door and saw and the same pasty CO that sent me here.

“With me.”

I gave Poussey a grin and walked towards the CO,

“Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer me and just kept walking. I followed him to a warehouse that smelled of Clorox and musty water.

“Janitorial. Your job assignment. Morello will fill you in on what to do.”

“Oh yeah I can do that. No problem.”

The first couple of hours involved cleaning the halls, but I moved on to the Spanish bathrooms. Poussey was right, the library was the best job to have.

*A few weeks later at dinner

“I don’t know why you’d let Edward Scissorhands cut your hair and not me.”

“Because Danita only charges me a bag of Doritos. Not two cokes. Plus, she don’t even ask for the Cool Ranch flavor!”

“Beggars can’t be choosers. I do two cokes worth of work, Child.”

I laughed at Taystee and Sophia having their little banter in the food line. I walked with them to the table and sat down.

“...but then the dragon realized the little ghost girl was friendly, even though she was cold as ice. Fire and ice, that would never work!”

“Why not? What happened to opposites attract?” I ask sort of challengingly. 

“Mommy said ice is used to put out fires. Well, technically water is used to put out fires but ice is just water in solid form. So the fire would go out!”

“But do you know what happens when fire and ice mix?”

“The world goes dark?”

“No. They make steam,” I gave Poussey a “subtle” smirk.

“Mommy says steam is for showers, crab legs and “fun times”.

“I miss making steam with a fine gentleman with a curve on that dick.”

We all laughed along at what Cindy said and I agreed with her.

“There are just some things your fingers can’t accomplish,” I said jokingly while being serious. She pointed her fork at me, “I like her.”

Poussey was noticeably quiet throughout the rest of dinner. Only chiming in to seem interested. She didn’t even finish her tray before she was dipping out.

“Wait I’ll come with you.”

“Nah, stay and eat. I’ll catch you later.”

“Uh oh. Trouble is Lezzy Paradise?”

I almost didn’t hear Cindy as I kept watching Poussey leave the cafeteria.

“Stop it.”

Taystee rolled her eyes and shook her head.

For the next few days, it was hard to get ahold of Poussey. Since we knew each other’s schedules, it was easy for her to avoid me.

Meals were no better. She made sure to get there early so by the time I was sitting down, she was done.

“Aye, you need to fix that,” Janae told me with her eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know what the problem is.”

“I know you are not that dumb,” Boo said as she sat across from me.

“She’s kicking her own ass because she broke the #1 rule of being interested in pussy...” she continued.

I looked at her as I was waiting for her to continue.

“Never fall in love with a straight girl!”

“Love? What-When did I say I was straight-”

“The other night when that one was talkin bout curved dick and you chimed in basically foamin at the mouth at the thought,” Taystee said.

“Noooo, I was joking.”

“Yeah well, apparently she don’t know that.” I looked at Janae and sighed.

I had to wait until the weekend to see her. It was pouring rain and there was a leak in the library and the cleaning warehouse had a slight flood, so neither of us had work.

I snuck my way to her bunk only to discover her to not be there.

“There’s only one place she’d go...” Janae told me.

I made my way down and opened the door.

She was right.

“...there was another before you, but she got out. There’s a time machine in the laundry room. That was their place. That’s where she goes to think.”

“How’d you find me?”

“Your bunkie.”

“What do you want?”

“What’s going on? Why are you being so weird?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said standing up.

“Are we not friends anymore?”

“Friends,” she said with a sarcastic chuckle.

“Can we please sit?” I gestured to the inside of her hiding spot. She backed up slightly to let me further in to the time machine and we both sat down. Neither of us said anything for a while until I did,

“I’m not gay...”

She nodded her head with a sad smile on her face.

“...but I’m not straight either. I’m just me. I’ve dated guys, I’ve had experiences with girls-”

“Experiences? But you’ve never dated a girl?”

“No, but for the past few weeks, I’ve really wanted to,” I said with a slight smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because of this. I didn’t want to say something stupid and mess this up. And because I’ve never dated a girl before, but I have dated guys, I didn’t want you to think I was using you. I thought that because I don’t identify as anything, you wouldn’t like me back.”

“I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Look, I got my heart broken not too long ago by a girl that promised me forever. She didn’t identify as anything either and she ended up falling in love with a dude when she got out. We were both in a dark place when we met and getting to know each other and eventually falling in love helped. I could’ve given up on love and fate, but I haven’t yet. Look, maybe this-..this connection that we have, challenges what you thought you were. And maybe I'm gonna get my heart broken in a thousand different pieces again. But those are maybes. You can't live your life according to maybes.”

The next few months were bliss. Poussey and I have connected on a level I didn’t know was attainable. 

Today is Valentine’s Day and right now we’re back in the time machine. We’re both laying down, holding each other and looking up at the ceiling. 

“It’s about a woman named Dannie who’s this a high-powered corporate lawyer. She’s one of those types who has everything planned out. The story has a lot of twists and turns because her five year plan goes differently than she thought.”

“So why is it your favorite if it’s so inconsistent? For a woman who knows what she wants “Dannie” sure seems okay with settling.”

“It’s my favorite because it mirrors me. It mirrors us. In five years I saw myself at some job a teenager would have with my only responsibility being my phone bill.”

“What do you see now?”

“I see me with our dog, Keith, holding signs with your dad on your release day. Then I see us heading to our apartment where you can see it for the first time in person. Then we’ll go to our jobs, pay rent, and hound our parents for travel money.”

“I’m in your future?”

“You are my future.”

She gave me a kiss when there was a bang on the cardboard door, “Hey kids! They’re doing interviews in the bunks,” Boo informed us.

When we got to her dorm, there were a few guards asking ladies questions about love.

“Does anyone else want to be asked questions?”

“Yeah, I do,” Poussey said while raising her hand.

I feel Taystee put her elbow on my shoulder, “What the hell?” The rest of the family comes around.

“Okay Washington, what is love?”

“Love. It’s just chilling, you know? Kicking it with somebody, talking, making mad stupid jokes. And, like, not even wanting to go to sleep, ‘cause then you might be without ‘em for a minute,” she looked at me, “And you don’t want that.”

•taglist: @mina672

[definegodliness]

The Tragic Story of the Tumble of Icarus

There once was a boy called Icarus. He, and his dad...

Well, we're not off to a good start. I always forget the name of the dad. Let's call him 'Dadalus'. That has a nice ring to it. Right? Good. Back to the story. 

There once was a boy, Icarus. He and his dad Dadalus got stranded on one of those picturesque Greek islands last summer. His mother Momalus had warned them not to go to the island, as it was the last orange covid zone within a red region. Therefore, bound to become red; meaning flight restrictions. But Dadalus was all like:

"Can it, woman. Ain't no government tell me what to do. I work hard all year and deserve a vacation!"

So they went anyway, Dadalus and Icarus, and, of course, right upon arriving the island was flagged a red zone. Restaurants and bars closed, the beach off limits... you know? Lockdown. The works. All they had left was one daily trip to the supermarket, which had to be undertaken alone. Then, back to the hotel room. Flights to and from the island were restricted until further notice, and their government had already stated there'd be no repatriation for vacationers taking risks. So Icarus and Dadalus were very much stuck. Boredom soon struck, and Icarus tried to whine about it to his dad. But Dadalus was all like:

"Shut your trap, boy! Can't you see I'm staring out of the window?"

Icarus wept. Big tears flowed over his cheeks. And Dadalus took pity on the boy.

"Okay, fine. Tell you what. Today's my turn to get to the store, you can have it. But don't you come 'round back here whining. Buy a crossword puzzle book or something."

This cheered up Icarus instantly. He liked crossword puzzles, and from high above in their hotel room he had seen an alternative route to the store which would grant him at least five whole minutes extra outside time! He grabbed his rucksack and flew down the hotel's stairs not to wait for the elevator. Outside, instead of taking a left, he took a right. And all too soon he found himself wandering the island's back alleys. Things looked a lot different down on the ground. He had to keep a keen eye on Google Maps not to get lost. Focused on his phone's screen, Icarus was not aware he ventured into the bad part of town. Till all of the sudden he jumped at the sound of histing.

"Psst, ya wanna buy some weed?"

"Sure!"

Icarus liked weed. Almost as much as he liked crossword puzzles. But he reckoned that if he'd be stuck on Bore-island, he'd better kill the time cool as a capybara. So, Icarus rolled up the fattest one you'll ever see, and immediately proceeded to get baked like a Galaktoboureko. The sun's warmth caressed his face, and, for a moment, everything was good. Icarus whoozed in dreams of Greek's divine beauties, dressed in fine white robes. He dreamt of ouzo flowing from the cornucopia, figs and oranges, and soon drifted off in visions of perky centaur tiddies. In his mind resounded the playful tunes of a bouzouki, and he fantasized about dancing on the beach till sunrise. Free, in a world that was free.

All of the sudden he heard a well-known intrusive noise that immediately popped him out of his dazed, Disney's Fantasia-inspired daydream. His phone rang. And brightly flashing on the screen: Dadalus. Icarus tried really hard to compose himself, looking at his dad's ever stern and grumpy face flashing before him, thinking: 'don't laugh, don't laugh', as he picked up the phone.

"Finally! When are you gonna learn to pick up the damn phone, boy. Get your ass back here immediat--"

Icarus could not hear the rest. 

As Dadalus once again spurted in unleashed pent up frustration, all he managed this time was trigger his son's kite-high cackling laughter. Icarus quickly slid the phone symbol to red not to make things worse. And when his dad immediately called again, he decided it'd be best not to answer. He was feeling pretty good there in the back alleys, and felt no urge to return to his grumpy overworked dad for an ass beating, and another window staring session.

Instead, he put his phone on silent and pocketed it. Then, inhaled his sweet green deliverer again, till his lungs reached peak volume. And as he kept it in all he did was think: back to the dream; back to freedom; back to centaur tiddies.

So it went on. Icarus kept rolling and lighting up fat ones, escaping to his own world of fantasy. Trying to maintain and elongate his high for as long as he could, till ultimately and inevitably all his daydreams revolved around figs and oranges, fresh from the tree; olives and feta cheese; all kinds of sweet pastries! And, of course, gyros. Heaps and heaps of gyros. Where upon, like snow on mountainous peaks, lay slathered the freshest tzatziki. His stomach growled, loud and demandingly. Icarus slapped his knees.

“Right. Time to head home and order something to eat.”

He pulled out his phone to Google Maps his way back, and to his shock discovered the notifications of twenty-six missed calls. Three from Dadalus, and a whopping twenty-three from Momalus. Along with the missed calls were several text messages, the ones sent by Dadalus filled with profanities. And as Icarus scrolled back to the first message sent that day, he read, to his dread, that the island's authorities had arranged a small plane to fetch stranded tourists and fly them to the last bastion of orange zoned mainland, where travel company Sunweb had arranged a new hotel, and, for those who'd so choose, a way back home. 

One plane. Icarus scrolled on, and through strings of dumbasses, deadbeats and synonyms of the sorts, he read that Dadalus was already on it. Panic stuck, but before he could actually begin to wrap his last two functioning brain cells around the text messages, Icarus heard an ominous buzz in the distance. There, high above, in those Mediterranean skies of perfect blue, flew a small single-engine plane. Destination, liberty. Well, under the respective rules of whatever new normal's there applicable. But in any case freer than the island, which was put in total lock down. 

He followed the plane misty-eyed, till it was no more than a dot. And when it finally faded into the horizon, the reality of his situation at long last managed to sink in: there was no telling how or when he'd ever get back home.

"Suit yourself!"

He reread Dadalus last message, the climax after many a threat he would leave his son to fend on his own. And Icarus knew it could take weeks or even months before Momalus calmed down his dad enough to send help in any shape or form. He fucked up big time, this time. Dadalus had always warned him about the dangers of getting too high. 

Icarus wept. For the second time that day, and once again big tears flowed down his cheeks. Yet this time they were not tears of boredom. They were tears of bitter shame. For ignoring his dad’s words. For the call ending in cackling hyena giggling, betraying his spaced-out state. Woe was he. Icarus tumbled. Down from his cloud nine kite-high, all the way to the dismal depths of paranoia. Poor Icarus, caught in the back alleys of a foreign country as the dark of evening fell. Poor, poor, Icarus, who was too high to fly to the Sunweb hotel.

--- 29-3-2021, M.A. Tempels ©

[sunlightxing]

Show Me Some Respect

After working for years as a secretary to General Hux aboard the ship, the Finalizer, life could not have been better for you.

That was until Hux informed you that Commander Kylo Ren would be joining you on that ship. Almost immediately, you both resent each other, but after being forced to spend more alone time with him, you begin to wonder, what's so bad about him after all?

Chapter 3: Following Orders

Tension rises between you and Commander Kylo Ren on your short mission to a nearby planet. However, upon returning back to the Finalizer, things begin to change between you and General Hux, and a misunderstanding lands you in hot water.

The minutes bled into hours as you impatiently waited for the stormtroopers to finish handling things on the ground. There was nothing but fire, dust, and absolute chaos visible to your gaze from the cockpit. Yet, you could not have been more bored. Of course, Commander Ren made absolutely no attempt to start any form of conversation. Instead, he sat perfectly mute in his seat, watching the violence conspire down below.

You felt guilty for constantly staring at him. One hand pressed up against the side of your face, supporting your head and neck, just to do nothing but study every part of his body. The way his chest heaved with every slow breath he took was mesmerizing, completely and utterly captivating. You wanted to speak to him, have any sort of communication, but he seemed to despise talking to you, or at the very least, despise hearing your voice. That was the worst part about it all, the mixed signals he constantly threw your way, and how he made you question every little thing.

Commander Ren suddenly engaged the ships thrusters, not giving any sort of explanation or instruction. He shot the shuttle down to the village, carefully maneuvering it over the sand dunes, and through the smog and smoke below. The ship slowly lowered itself onto the course ground below, at the very center of the others.

"You will not leave your seat. Is that understood?" Commander Ren demanded as he headed for the exit of the cockpit. His voice punctured your lungs, stabbing at every part of your soul. It hurt to hear him snap at you, the words rippling off his tongue like small knives, unrelentingly digging into wherever his gaze was placed.

You spun around in your chair, now gazing up at him. "I wasn't planning on it, sir," you responded calmly, trying to not show your obvious hatred for the tone of his voice.

Commander Ren let out another sharp, agitated huff before he stormed out of the cockpit, the door slamming behind him. You couldn't help but stare at the way his cape swayed as he moved, how it would brush over his shoulder with ever alternating step, revealing his broad shoulders and muscular physique. You smacked yourself square in the forehead as more sinful thoughts of the Commander flooded your mind, a small droplet of drool slipping through your lips. Those had to go away, or working aboard the same ship as him was going to become nearly impossible.

It seemed to be hours that you were stuck on board the shuttle, though it was probably only a couple minutes. You kept fidgeting in your seat, staring at the door in hope it would finally open to reveal the Commander, carrying on some prisoner, his breath panting as he carries himself onto the cockpit. His tired and aching body flopping into his seat, chest heaving as he took in any air he could. Your mind fluttered into thoughts of him calling you to him, making you tend to his wounds. The thought of pulling of his shirt to reveal finely chiseled muscles, then reaching for his helmet-

You slapped yourself in the face again, using that as a way to punish yourself for the thoughts and fantasies. It was beyond fucked up that you had such a strong craving for him, when all that came out of your mouth when he was around was berating insults, and the same flew from his own. He even said it himself, he didn't like you. Yet, he too must have a fair amount of pleasurable thoughts that fill his own mind, as he had acted on a few of them before. The only logical solution to stopping those strong emotions was getting away from the Commander, but it didn't look like that would be happening anytime soon.

A horrid hissing sound came from the back of the shuttle, the recognizable sound the door made when they were opened. You jumped out of your seat, running to the doorway and hurriedly opening it to see the two stormtroopers who accompanied you on board, but with no Commander. You looked at them for some answers, but they just shook their heads, pointing towards the cockpit. The fools didn't speak unless spoken to, but you doubted they were trained to answer to the likes of you.

"What?" You whispered, hoping they'd go against protocol just to give you a simple answer.

One of them went to speak, and the other responded by smack him on the back of the head. You rolled your eyes as the two troopers began to beat the ever loving shit out of each other, instead of giving you the smallest amount of answers. "Look," you stated, drawing their attention away from their small quarrel. "I just want to know where the Commander is. Can you give me that much?"

The two looked at one another, giving a nod of reassurance that only that information would be allowed to be stated, but then, a loud, and rather horrifying yell came from outside the ship.

"Uhhh, that would be the Commander," one of the troopers said, the other again smacking him on the back of the head as punishment for confusing to speak to you.

You turned back to the pair, shouting to stop another fight from ensuing. "Why is he so angry?" You demanded, hoping they'd answer that question, since they didn't technically answer the first.

"He didn't find what he wanted," the trooper answered. This time, the one who responded was the usual instigator of the fights. You went to ask the pair of them just one more question, about how much they knew about the Commander. You assumed they had worked with him several times, as they seemed used to the little tantrum he threw outside of the ship, but that would have to wait for another time.

Commander Ren came marching onboard the ship, his lightsaber fully ignited. The flashing, blood curdling sizzle of the electric flame sensing you tumbling back in fear. Upon seeing your reaction, or just you in general, he unsheathed the saber, placing it promptly at his side.

"What are you doing down here?" He demanded, his voice showing a vast amount of rage, more than usual that is. He turned to the troopers who were now dead silent, as if they were statues. "Did you speak to her?" The Commanders asked, reaching again for the saber at his side. You didn't want to hear that horrible sound again, so you were willing to lie for the sake of those two poor troopers. After all, they never would've spoken to you unless you practically begged for it.

"No, sir," you cried out. "They didn't speak to me."

The Commander looked at you, menacingly. Even the slightest glances from him would send shivers down your spine. He walked closer to you, stopping so his chest was inches from your face. His hand lifting up your chin so you were gazing into his jet black mask.

"You aren't a very good liar."

You felt your body go numb. "Commander, I'm not lying."

He reached his hand across your entire jaw, clenching it hard. "March your prissy little ass back to the cockpit."

You gulped, trying not to choke on your own spit. "Yes, Commander," you said as you sprinted away back to your seat.

The ships engine roared as he soared it away from the village, and back in the direction of the Finalizer. You kept thinking about those troopers, and how they probably hated you now. You nearly got their asses whopped just for asking a basic question. Why could the Commander not handle you asking just a simple question? It was for his own safety, he should be thankful you cared enough to see what happened to him.

"Enough," Commander Ren interjected. "You should've never left the cockpit in the first place."

"Commander, why do you keep reading my thoughts?" You asked ferociously.

He paused, clenching his fist so tightly you were afraid he might shatter it. "I don't want to, but you're yelling," he hissed. "I cant ignore it, though I desperately want to."

You rolled your eyes, completely and utterly annoyed by his antics, "I doubt that's the case, sir," you responded. He had no reason to keep searching your mind for every little thing that crossed it, and considering most of the thoughts your mind had been infected with, you didn't want him to.

Silence reigned for the remainder of the flight back to the Finalizer. The second you landed back on the base, the Commander shot up from his seat. The two troopers in the back carted the rebel pilot off of the ship to god knows where. You went to exit the ship and head back  to the control room, when he stuck out his arm, slamming it into the wall, stopping you from continuing your path out of the ship.

"I expect you to follow my orders more strictly next time."

You looked at him in confusion. "There's gonna be a next time?" You asked mournfully.

He huffed at you in rage, furious with the fact you didn't wish to spend any longer with him. He shouldn't have been that shocked, you thought it was pretty obvious as to why. In a fast and violent motion, he ripped his hand away from the wall, marching off to the ships exit. Then, finally, he was gone. You stood there for a moment in utter disbelief.  He should've been happy you didn't want to spend any more time with him, it's not like he enjoyed so much as a second of it.

You walked down through the hallways, passing by large squads of stormtroopers. They looked so rushed and hectic, probably because they faced a majority of the scrutiny passed on by Commander Ren. At least you had Hux, who was usually kind to you, and a very fair leader. They didn't have any one. Not even their Captain, Phasma, showed them an ounce of compassion.

You brushed those thoughts off as best you could, your primary focus to stop the stagnant bleeding of your nose before you entered the control room. You approached the bridge slowly, still wiping away some excess. Before you even fully entered the room, Hux bolted towards you, a pleasurable grin covering his face.

"You're back!" He exclaimed, rushing over to you. He then coughed, acting like it was a mistake that his voice was a bit too cheerful just to greet his secretary, as it would draw suspicion from the people who surrounded you both. You smiled at him, hoping there wasn't leftover nose blood residue on your face.

"How was it?"

"Oh, the mission. Not terrible at all, sir. Quite boring though."

"No," he huffed, "I meant how was it, with Ren."

You gulped, knowing full well you couldn't tell him of every tension filled moments, and the numerous times the Commander had left you bloody and bruised.

"Oh, it wasn't bad," you chuckled. "But, you know him! So serious!"

Hux gave a rather disingenuous grin. You bit your lip in fear, worried he might be onto you, and that maybe he had some hidden mind reading ability like the Commander did. But, Hux was simply just plain old Hux, and he moved on from that awkward discussion with the flick of his trench coat.  He turned back to the scanners, radars, all machines that scattered the control room. His breath was stagnant, almost forced. You watched as a single droplet of sweat pooled down from his forehead, down to his cheek before he abruptly brushed it away.

"General?" You asked. "Is everything alright?"

Hux looked over at your fellow pilots, who were plugging away into the ships database. "The Commander is, awfully frustrated at this moment. I'm sure you know that," he sighed. You shrugged, not quite understanding the difference between Commander Rens' frustration, or his overall anger issues. Hux finally managed to focus his gaze on you, and shifted his eyes towards your blood stained sleeve, staring at it with a completely mortified expression.

You tried to draw away his attention from that, shoving your hand quickly inside of your pocket. "When is he not?" You said playfully, hopefully halting him from asking any questions.

Hux gave you an awkward smile, he was never the type for jokes. "He's obsessed with finding part of a navigational chart that will lead us to Luke Skywalker," Hux said sternly.

"Like, Luke Skywalker the Jedi?!" You questioned far too excitedly.

Hux hushed you, placing his hand over your mouth in an effort to keep you quiet. "I thought the Commander would've told- never mind," he whispered. Nervously, he glanced around the room, surveying to see if anyone else heard what you had said and thankfully no one did. Placing his hands on your shoulders, he pulled you in close, whispering the last few details into your ear, his breath hot and trembling. "Skywalker is the only threat to the First Orders' rule. The Resistances' last hope ," Hux added, staring deeply into your eyes. "If we don't find and destroy him, it would be our end."

Hux continued to gaze into your eyes, like he was studying every part of your face. The tension kept building as he gazed at you so longingly, so intently. "Forgive me," he remarked, not once shifting his view away from your now blushing cheeks. "I thought I'd never see you again." Your heart thumped against your chest, feeling his hands gently press into your collarbones. His eyes glittered with passion, a look he had never given you before. He genuinely looked almost afraid, as if he meant what he said, the fear of never seeing you again.

"Hux-"

A loud, blaring sound rang through your ear, stopping you both dead in your tracks. Hux flinched, pulling himself away from you, and losing that shimmering glow in his eyes. "What is going on?!" He demanded, rushing over to the pilot overseeing the ships security system.

"Sir, an X-Wing flyer has been spotted heading towards a nearby planet. It could be our pilot."

A sinister smile wiped across Huxs' face, so horrific it sent a chill running down the back of your spine. He clenched his jaw, now turning back to the bridges large window overseeing the planet. "I'll alert the Commander. We'll end this now," Hux asserted, turning back towards you, his expression unchanging, until he saw yours.

"Cadet," he stammered. "What is the issue?" Hux and every other member in the bridge were staring at you with mixed emotions in their eyes. Most of them confused, halted until you gave Hux the answer he was desperately searching for. But you didn't know what the issue was, why you were looking upon your General with such fear in your heart. It was an unconscious look, but there had to be some reasoning behind it, an explanation for why that emotion had presented itself in your eyes.

You shook your head, dismissing the gazes of every pair of eyes that look upon you. Hux sighed, somewhat frustrated you hadn't given an explanation for your behavior. He turned back to the pilot, clenching the inner part of his cheek tightly between his pearly white teeth.

"Stand down until my return," Hux ordered the crew members, the tone of smugness high in his voice. He glanced at you one final time before exiting, his eyes showing instability in every corner of his pupils. You knew he was fearing the worst, that you'd be ripped from his clutches once more, and be placed into those of the Commander.

You stood, gazing off at the other members in the bridge, wondering if they held as much panic in their hearts as you did. Hux had left you there with no instructions, and not us much as a little bit of information. He had been so disorganized, so frazzled in his movements, and you knew why.

Hux didn't want you anywhere near Commander Ren for as long as humanly possible. You weren't sure how well that would work, since Hux just laid down and took it every time he was berated and abused by the Commander. You felt guilty, but it was rather hilarious to watch, and hearing Commander Rens' smooth, piercing voice, lash out at anyone while in your presence, it made your body ache with desire.

You smacked yourself in the face, catching the eye of two stormtroopers who were standing beside the doorway. They stared for a moment, then shrugged your behavior off as they continued their pointless conversation. Nervously, you bit your lip, embarrassed you had drawn that unwanted attention to yourself, and bitterly unhappy that your fantasies had not rid themselves from your mind.

It was a constant battle. Trying to maintain your professionalism, and fawning over the Commanders sensational touch. The brief, tension filled moments the two of you had shared controlled your mind, presenting themselves in the worst possible moments. Fantasies fluttered around every time he entered a room you were in, and you regretfully knew he could hear every bit of it. You wanted it to stop so badly, practically begged for it, but they just wouldn't go away. You hated him, despised him for spinning your life on its head, ruining every bit of certainty you had. Everything was so simple before he came along, and now, it was beyond confusing.

"Hello."

You shook yourself out of your entrancement, glancing to the side to see the young pilot, Simon, staring at you with the cutest pair of puppy-dog-eyes you had ever seen. "Oh," you stammered, not quite sure how to respond. "Hello."

"Do you know where Hux went?" He asked curiously, still maintaining a glisten in his eyes. You paused for a moment, losing yourself in his deep blue orbs, mesmerized by their beauty and majesty.

He waved his hand in front of your nose, inches from its tip in an effort to snap you back into focus. You let out a nervous laugh. "My apologies. As far as I know, he's gone to retrieve the Commander, informing him of the possible Resistance pilot." Simon nodded, placing his hand in a questioning manner around around his chin. His eyes scanned the room, almost as if he was looking for something. You stood nervously as his gazed moved from the divots on the floor to your feet, then sweat began to form on your brow as his eyes shifted up to meet yours, studying every inch of your body on the way up.

"Don't you think we should try and stop that ship from heading where it needs to go?"

"Uhm, what?" You hesitated, finding fear in his now cocky and smug expression. His tongue curled around his lips, sliding over his perfect, white teeth as a crooked smile formed upon his face.

"Well, we don't want that ship to get what it's looking for. So why don't we capture it?" He scoffed, now beginning to circle around your body. Your bones grew stiff, and blown ran cold. It was torturous what he was doing. Your legs ached, screaming at you to run, and you wanted to. Wanted to move, get away, do anything to escape. But Hux told you to stay put. You had to follow your orders.

A stagnant breath escape your mouth, not purposefully. You coughed as to try and muffle it, conceal the fear that obviously didn't want to hide. "We aren't permitted to debate this," you replied, hoping to sound as sophisticated and intelligent as possible. "General Hux gave no orders other than for us to stay put. Therefore, that is what we shall do."

"You follow him too blindly."

A lump formed in the back of your throat, almost sending you into a choke. "I-I'm sorry?" You questioned, no longer was there any sophistication in your tone of voice. He shrugged, "look I get it, you don't wanna go against his rules-"

He stepped closer to you, stopping inches from your face. Shivers rode down your spine as he looked you up and down, a sinister grin wiping over his face.

"But just imagine how proud Commander Kylo Ren would be with you."

Your body went numb, stiffening as he pulled away from your face, wickedly smirking as he turned back to the front of the bridge. "If you won't give the order, I will. But, I think it'd look a lot better if you did it."

You turned away from him, biting your lip so hard, blood to pool from where your teeth had sunk in to the flesh. It was unfathomable, how he was able to sense the sneaking desire in your body that you wanted Commander Ren to be proud of you, impressed by your abilities. So far, all he'd seen you as was a bitchy little secretary. But you wanted him to see more than that, more from you. It was terrible, frankly stupid that you wanted him to find you witty, radiant-

Perfect.

"Simon," you finally responded, dispelling the sense of uncertainty from your voice. "With all due respect, though your idea does seem rather brilliant, I will not go against my orders. That is not my job."

He scoffed, clenching his fist tightly at his side. "Fine," he huffed, marching towards the center of the control room. "Then I'll do it."

All eyes in the room were now on the pair of you, most of them searching your own for an explanation. No one understood what was going on, why the quarrel between you and an ex TIE-flyer was taking place in the middle of the bridge. You knew if Simon began barking out orders, no one would listen to him. But there was that worry, that when Hux returned with Commander Ren at his side, they'd both be disgusted with your lack of initiative.

"Well then," Simon proclaimed to the enter staff. "Why aren't we going after that ship?"

The men stationed at the blasters looked at Simon with disgruntled expressions, not showing any signs of following his orders. The two stormtroopers stationed at the entrance scoffed. Those two knew authority, and how a true leader was supposed to behave and act. Simon did not have what it took to lead, or give any sort or directions.

You stepped forward, positioning yourself next to Simon, which drew the attention back from those who had looked away. Though Simon towered over you in physicality, in spirit, and in status, you could've squashed him with the tip of your fingernails.

“Our instructions come from General Hux and Commander Ren," you stated firmly, digging back into those months of public speaking courses you took at the Academy. "I trust that none of you have forgotten that."

Simon rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to speak once more, when suddenly, he was thrown away from you, and into the nearby wall. The wretched sound of his bones smacking against the hard, metal desks and control panels was enough to make you sick. He flopped onto the floor below, and picked his head up weakly, staring first at you, and then shifting his gaze to the doorway, where even his pain filled eyes widened in pure fear.

Slowly, you shifted your body from the front of the bridge, to the entrance. There, standing with a fully extended arm which twitched with such a violent rage, was Commander Ren. Hux stood beside him, looking rather annoyed he had thrown one of the pilots like a rag doll across the room in front of the entire staff.

"Cadet," Hux stated plainly, not sounding like his usual self at all. His tone was more cross, and a lot more stuck up that in usually presented. "What is the meaning of this?"

You gulped. "Uh, sir. There was a debate about whether or not the rebel ship should be destroyed before landing on-"

Before you could finish your explanation, and tell both Hux and the Commander that none of this was your idea, Hux walked slowly, and horrifically intimidatingly towards you. He stopped inches from your face, and rose his hand up to strike you. You winced in fear, as it had been years since he had slapped you in anger. There wasn't anything to do in that moment, for if you tried to stop him, the punishment would only be worse. You stood there, prepared to have the life knocked out of you by his cold, pale hands, but there was nothing.

Too much time had gone by, and you knew when Hux was ready to throw a physically punishment at you, he didn't hold back. You slightly peeled open you eyes, looking up to see Huxs' hand being held back-

By the Commanders'.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, General," Commander Ren stated, his gloved hand digging into Huxs' weak and feeble wrist. Hux glared at him, ripping his hand away from the Commanders grasp, rubbing it gently. You knew what Hux was feeling in that moment, that pain. A feeling of remorse tried to rush over you, but it was expelled by gratitude. The Commander, as horrid as he was, had stopped Hux from hurting you. Maybe it was because he himself wanted to, but you didn't get that feeling from him. Not this time.

"You can't possibly think she was in the right to give out those orders," Hux hissed, still massaging his flushed hand.  Commander Ren looked at you, an instant pain rushing through your mind. You clenched your eyes tightly, trying to make it hurt less, but thankfully after less than a few seconds, it was gone.

"She did not give out those orders."

A small grin formed on your face. For once, he had read your thoughts when it was most important, when he actually needed to. Hux shuddered, looking at you with an apologetic glance. You knew he felt bad for not listening, and for behaving so differently towards you. The first guess you had was he believed Commander Ren would find him redeemable if he resented you, but that wasn't the case, not anymore.

"The girl is coming with me," Commander Ren ordered, his words so powerful the room practically shook when he spoke.

You went to swallow down the spit coming from your watering mouth, but after that statement, you choked on it instead. The Commander gave you a slight glance, then returned back to Huxs' gaze as you continued to try and muffle your cough.

"Ren, she is my secretary, and she belongs here on the Finalizer. That's been her job-"

"Her job as of right now is to fill in as my secretary," Commander Ren finished after cutting Hux off mid sentence. You couldn't help but hide the excitement on your face, but Hux couldn't help hide his disgust. "I won't be taking that traitor with me."

You looked over to Simon, following the Commanders' and Huxs' gaze. The boy had pulled himself off of the ground, blood seeping from a large gash on his head. He stares into your eyes menacingly, the once glistening blue orbs now pools of darkened misery. You pulled your attention away from him, afraid he might lash out at you. But Commander Rens' unchanging body language showed you if he so much as tried, the next thrown against the metal wall would ensure his death.

"Ren-" Hux begged, trying his best to keep you here with him. He knew he had messed up, showing violence towards you instead of being rational. Deep down, something gnawed at you, saying the Commanders had been waiting for Hux to slip up like he did today.

Then, you would be his and his alone.

"I've made my decision," Commander Ren stated. "She's coming with me."

A warm feeling flooded over your body, the same feeling you got the day Hux picked you to work in the control room of the Finalizer. It felt wrong, to have that strong emotion again, but this time, you were being taken away from Hux. The Commander ushered you to follow closely beside him, and you did as you were told. Hux turned away from the pair of you, looking back to the members of the bridge. You knew that watching you walk away from him with the man he believes you'd resent must've been beyond hard for him. It was hard for you too.

"You'll be back with him soon," Commander Ren assured as the pair of you approached the doors to the landing bay. You didn't respond, as there was nothing to be said. Hux would be stuck on that ship, without you until the Commander placed you back in his care. You didn't understand why this man couldn't just get another secretary. But you knew if he did, you'd despise whoever it was, hate them even.

The doors to the bay opened with a dramatic hissing noise following their unattachment. Troopers were lined up in formation, receiving orders from their Generals. You gazed out at the bay, thinking of how you'd be stepping off this vessel, your home, to be alone in a cockpit with Commandrr Ren for who knows how long.

You weren't ready, he knew you weren't. He could smell the fear and panic off your body every time he inhaled. Yet, he insisted, made a point to keep you near him. Technically, all you were was a fill in, but it felt like you were so much more than that. But that very well just could have been a dream, a made up reality you had created in your mind.

Commander Ren walked past you, heading down the ramp towards the Command shuttle. You stood back, gazing at the way he marched so powerfully, and so assuredly. Every person on that bay stopped dead in their tracks when he went by, not gawking nearly as much as you were. His cape swayed with every step he took, brushing past his shoulders to reveal the smallest outline of his body.

You gulped as he turned back to face you, ushering for you to follow him. The soldiers stationed on the bay looked up at you now, sending a burning sensation across your back, flooding into every part of your trembling body.

This is going to be rough.

[isis-astarte-diana]

Milk and Honey: Day 1

Day 1 ‖ Day 2 ‖ Day 3

Summary: “I can’t keep a houseplant alive, never mind a Time Lord.” You aren’t thrilled when the Doctor asks you to observe a wounded Missy while she heals, but in close quarters you see a side of her you’d never expected.

Warnings: Mentions of injury, blood and gore, but nothing too graphic. Sexual tension and a teeny tiny bit of non-sexual nudity. Missy is her own warning (I’m going to start using an acronym for this because it comes up far too much). SFW. Very, very soft.

Word Count: 2820

NB: This ran away from me so badly, so it will be continued! I read the whole Wiki page on Gallifreyan physiology for this. They really do have orange blood, and they really can’t take aspirin. I also took the liberty of throwing in the “only one bed” trope and making it gay.

“I don’t even know first aid.”

The Doctor scoffs, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “Wouldn’t help much anyway. Very different anatomy.”

“Doctor, I’m serious. My Nintendogs all ran away from neglect. Every Tamagotchi I’ve ever had has starved to death. I can’t keep a houseplant alive, never mind a Time Lord.”

“Time Lords are easier. They tell you when they need feeding. Look,” he reaches out to touch your arm, his voice lowering. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t need to. I can’t monitor the vault all day while I’m working, and somebody has to keep watch while she recovers. Bill doesn’t have her own place and Nardole is... Nardole. She doesn’t need medical care; she’ll heal on her own in a few days. She just needs observation.”

You cross your arms tightly and throw a glance at the closed bathroom door. “Observation while she rips my throat out?”

“Don’t be like that. Missy gets on with you. Besides which, she’s in no condition to cause trouble.”

“Okay, see, that?” You point an accusatory finger at his chest, close to yours where you stand in the narrow hallway of your flat. “That sounds far too much like tempting fate.” He takes your hand in both of his. The pleading look on his face makes you soften. “What happened to her, anyway?”

“Ah. Silurians, apparently. Stabbed in the back. They fight dirty.” He chuckles. “So does she.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t need stitches, or anything?”

“No need; it’ll take care of itself. Temporal platelets. Ad-hoc regeneration.” Sensing your confusion, he explains, “surface wounds heal quickly. It’s probably already scabbed over. It’s the internal damage that takes time.”

“I just don’t know if I’m the right person to do this.”

“You are.” It’s heavy with sincerity. “There’s nobody else in the universe that I would trust.”

You scoff. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“Of course it will.” He grins and gives your hand one final squeeze before dropping it. “I’ll come and check in on you both tomorrow, alright? I’ll drop some things off for her.”

“Yeah, alright.”

He’s halfway out the door when he pauses and looks back over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t give her any aspirin. Incompatible with Gallifreyan physiology. It works like rat poison.”

“Duly noted.”

+++++

You’ve been standing outside the bathroom door for the best part of two minutes now, trying to decide whether or not to make your presence known.

Inside, over the sound of the bath running, you can hear Missy swearing. She’s always had a more colourful taste in language than the Doctor, but this is something new. There are choice words that you recognise and strange sounds you can only assume to be Gallifreyan expletives, all strung together in a near-constant stream of profanity.

You jump back when there’s a loud thud against the door. It sounds like she’s slammed her hand into it. Already wincing in anticipation, you reach out and knock tentatively.

“Missy?” Your voice is apologetic. “You okay?”

Silence. The door cracks open just enough for you to see her face, still stained with dry blood. Her eyes are red and puffy.

“Could you give me a hand?” She winces like it pains her to ask. “Please.”

You think it might be the first time you’ve heard her say that.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. What- what do you need?”

“I can’t- I’m having trouble with my laces.” A half-smile as she tries to claw back the power she’s unused to handing over. “On account of the whopping great stab wound, and whatnot.”

“Yeah, those can be inconvenient.”

She pushes the door wider and lets you into the bathroom. Your eyes are drawn to the pile of white and violet on the floor, her discarded skirt and blouse. Her cameo brooch is balanced on the sink. Its ivory face is obscured with smears of orange.

“I just need somebody to loosen them,” she continues, turning to show you her back, mercifully ignoring the way your gaze flits about the room and tries to avoid settling on her. “Unfortunately I’m very good at tying knots.”

For some reason, that makes your mouth go dry.

“I’ll do my best.”

She’s facing away from you, towards the mirror. Her hair falls down over one shoulder, already brushed conveniently out of your way. The chemise she wears is thin, pale linen, stiff and brown in places with dried blood, pinned in place beneath the corset she can’t remove herself. It curves under her bust and across her back.

From here, you can see how the knife must have entered between the laces in the small of her back, caking them with blood. The tight bow is undamaged. You begin to pick it apart, trying not to touch her, as much in modesty as for fear of aggravating the injury.

“Let me know if I hurt you.”

“Hmm.” She grips the sink, angling her body to give you better access. Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you focus on the knots slowly giving beneath your fingers, trying in vain to ignore her closeness and the way her hips are just barely touching your own.

You’re glad of the cacophony of rushing water from the tap. The pressure of your pulse in your throat is almost painful. Sweat beads at your temples. Steam. It’s a hot room. That’s all.

“Okay.” The laces fall slack in your hands, the bow finally coming apart. “Just- loosen them?”

“Please.” There it is again.

“This might- you know-”

“I know.”

Her hands tighten on the sink when you hook one finger beneath the first row of laces above her waist and tug, drawing slack from the loose ends, releasing some of the tension. When she doesn’t make any sound of protest, you move higher up and repeat the motion. It’s not until the entire top half of the corset is loosened that she lets out a slow, shallow breath you hadn’t realised she was holding, shifting her position.

“Okay?”

“Fine.” It comes out short. She makes an effort to soften her voice. “It’s fine.”

“I’ll carry on.”

You know that the other side will be worse. The wound is just lower than where the bow had been, and the stiff garment has probably held it closed quite effectively. Removing it is unlikely to help the pain.

Sure enough, when you pull on the first lace Missy makes a low noise behind her teeth. She’s white-knuckled on the edge of the sink, threatening to crack the cheap porcelain. You imagine explaining that to the landlord and try to hide an inappropriate smile.

“Keep going,” she prompts tightly.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

You work as gently as you can, but it’s clear that even the smallest motion is painful. By the time you reach the bottom of the corset, her breathing is ragged and her eyes are screwed shut. You feel profoundly guilty.

“Can you- take it off, or should I?”

“Could you?” She gestures to her stomach and quickly steadies herself again. “Clasps are at the front.”

“Sure.”

Swallowing thickly, you move closer to reach around her waist. The backs of her thighs press against you from the position. When your hands land on her stomach, gripping the starched material at the bottom, you can feel her four-beat pulse through the panels. Your fingers are trembling.

The hooks and eyes slide apart with a chorus of metallic clicks, leaving just the top fastenings still holding. She grunts, twitching, pushing back against you. She’s warm.

“Almost done.” It’s as much for your benefit as hers. You follow the material upwards, drawing back as if burned when the fabric of her chemise brushes your fingers, and release the final two clasps. She lets out a heavy exhale in relief, glancing up from the sink, and for a long moment she catches your eye in the mirror. Her features are strained from the ordeal, messy hair in her face, lips parted as she catches her breath. You look awestruck.

“Thank you,” she murmurs into the reflection.

You pull back too quickly, dropping the corset to the floor with her other clothes and reaching over awkwardly to turn the tap off. The bath is full.

“I’ll put you some clothes ready,” you say hurriedly, nearly tripping on the pile of laundry in your haste to leave the room. “Just shout if you need anything else.”

Back in the kitchen, you wash the orange-brown stains of Missy’s blood from your hands. When you drag them harshly down your face, trying to steady yourself with a splash of cold water, they smell like pennies.

+++++

“Don’t laugh.”

“Jesus!” You nearly jump out of your skin, dropping the butter knife you’re holding and throwing a hand up to your pounding heart. “Don’t you make any noise when you walk?”

“Not if I can help it. Which I can.” Missy pauses. “What are you doing?”

“Making toast. Pretty standard human stuff. Breakfast? Toast. Flu? Toast. Tonsils out? Toast. Mortally wounded?” You shrug. “Toast.”

“I’m not mortally wounded,” she snaps. “You have to be mortal for that. I’m temporarily, slightly incapacitated.”

“Oh, of course,” you concede, looking back at her over your shoulder. “Luckily, there’s toast for-”

Your voice catches in your throat.

She’s obviously found the clothes you set out for her; an oversized tee shirt that swamps her frame and a pair of pyjama trousers. Her dark hair falls in a thick, wet braid. With her face clean you can see for the first time where she’s injured.

There’s a graze on her cheek, spanning across her nose, pink and sore-looking. Her bottom lip is swollen and split on the same side. A long, dark scab bisects the patch of rough skin, reaching from her jaw up towards her eye. It looks like her face has been slammed into the ground repeatedly.

You’ve never really seen her without her trademark boots and careful tailoring. She’s shorter than you imagined. There’s a soft, feminine curve to her stomach that’s usually concealed by the corset, and a faint musculature to her biceps.

“You look-”

“Don’t,” she cuts you off sharply. “Don’t say it. Let’s not add insult to injury.”

“I was going to say that you look nice.”

“Oh.” Her face softens. Some of the tightness leaves her brow. “Nice is fine. You can say that.”

It’s true, but the unsaid hangs heavily between you. She looks human. Hurt and freshly showered, standing in your kitchen in a pair of your pyjamas and with fuzzy striped socks on her feet, she looks so... soft. Touchable. Loveable.

Wait, what? Where did that come from?

The toaster pops and you turn to it, infinitely grateful for the distraction. You can feel her eyes on the back of your neck.

“Anything I can do?”

“No, I’m good.” The words come out too quickly. You throw her a weak smile. “I’ve got this. Thank you. You sit down.”

“Matron knows best.”

Her fingers brush over your elbow as she turns to leave. It could be a thank you. It’s hard to say.

+++++

You’ve been to other planets. You’ve travelled in time. You’ve seen cyborgs, and dinosaurs, and aliens of every description; but nothing has ever felt more bizarre than sitting on your sofa beside Missy, having tea and toast, watching a soap opera on a Thursday evening.

She’s leaning against an armrest, two pillows propped behind her back, keeping her weight off the healing wound. Her bright eyes are fixed on the television. She’d actually requested this programme, finding the endless human conflicts relentlessly amusing.

“He’s buried under the allotment.”

"Who is? The brother?”

“Definitely.” She sips from one of your prized novelty mugs. It’s purple and shaped like a cartoon octopus. “It was his wife. She poisoned him.”

“It’s always poison when it’s a woman.” You munch at your toast. “You know, most poisoners are men.”

“Most murderers are men, love.” The endearment nearly makes you choke. “You’re privileged enough to be sitting next to one of the minority.”

“Girl power,” you mutter around a mouthful of crumbs. She laughs. There’s something warm and genuine about it that makes your heart clench. You finish eating in companionable silence, watching as Missy’s prediction is revealed to be true just before the credits roll. 

“Told you.” She leans in to set her empty plate down on the coffee table on top of yours. As she moves, she winces and lets out a soft sound of discomfort. One hand reaches back to press against the injury. You frown.

“How’s it feeling?”

“Quite a lot like I was stabbed, actually.” She rubs her forehead. “I think I need to do that thing. What’s it called? Like a healing coma, but less.” Glancing sideways at your furrowed brow, she prompts, ���you know. You do it all the time. Eight hours a week, or something.”

"Sleep?”

“Sleep! That’s the one. Clever girl.” You can’t supress a shiver at the way she rolls the ‘r’. “Been a while since I’ve done that.”

“That would explain a lot.” You move the dishes, leaving them for the morning. “Just let me get changed and grab a blanket. You can take the bed.”

“Oh, no need.” She waves you away. “I’m perfectly fine here. Think I was in the desert, last time, so this is a step up.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you to sleep on a sofa when you’re recovering from a stab wound, Missy, Gallifreyan constitution or not. Besides which, this is a particularly bad one to spend the night on. Believe me, I speak from experience. The desert may actually be preferable.”

“I’m not throwing you out of your own bed,” she snaps, so harshly that it makes you flinch. “I’m enough of a nuisance as it is.”

Here we go.

Wounded pride is something you’ve dealt with from the Doctor time innumerable, but you’ve never had to address it with Missy before. You realise how difficult it must have been for her to ask for your help with the corset and wonder how much pain she’d put herself through trying to do it alone. For the first time, you imagine the conversation she must have had with the Doctor before he brought her here. How long did she fight him on it? How long did she insist that she could cope on her own in the vault? You’d assumed that he wanted to keep her supervised in case the injury didn’t heal well, but maybe there was more to it than that. Maybe he just didn’t want her to be alone.

“We could share.”

She lifts her head, setting those ancient eyes on you. “Share?”

“Share the bed. It’s big enough. No point in one of us being uncomfortable if we don’t have to be. Bill and I share when she comes over.” You feel like you’re babbling. This may be the worst idea you’ve ever had.

“Do you?”

“Course we do. Friends do that.”

Friends. She blinks a few times.

“Well then. When in Rome, as they say.” She rises unsteadily to her feet, one hand braced on the arm of the sofa. “Although apparently, that doesn’t mean that you can crucify someone for stealing a mule. The Doctor was so cross with me that weekend.”

+++++

“You’re going to fall off the bed.”

Missy’s voice is muffled by the pillow jammed awkwardly under her cheek. She’s lying on her stomach, arms under her head, her face twisted towards you so that she isn’t leaning on the injured side.

You wince at having been caught out. You’re as close to the edge as it’s possible to be, balanced uncomfortably on your side with your back to her. Even so, you can feel her behind you; she has no such qualms about taking up space.

“I’m not contagious, you know.” In her exhausted state - she’s been half-asleep since her head hit the pillow - she actually sounds insulted. “There’s no epidemic of knife wounds.”

“Please don’t jinx it.”

She snorts. Suitably chagrined, you squirm back towards the middle of the bed, settling into your usual sleeping position. You still make sure to keep your face turned away. There’s an odd feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. You can’t shake the idea that if you roll over and look at her face, the cuts and grazes there cast in sharp relief by the thin light of the bedside lamp, something terrible will happen.

You reach for the switch. “Light off?”

Her leg brushes against yours, warm even through the pyjamas, and your heart skips a beat. “Leave it on?” She sounds so small in the dark. You pause for a second before tucking your arm back under the duvet.

“Of course.” It sounds rough. You clear your throat. “Goodnight, Missy.”

“Night,” she murmurs back, already thick and drowsy.

Sleep comes easy to you both.