#i was just going onto the website to try and ask if anyone knew about the mysterious police vehicles MAKING LOUD NOISES BEHIND MY HOUSE

[aphroditessaturn]

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 || 𝐌. 𝐎.

pairing || miguel o'hara x fem!reader (is a spider-woman, tho nothing specific)

summary || you have anger issues and it’s no secret to anyone in the Spider-Society, Miguel might as well be the only who can tame you. His methods are, quite effective…

warning || smut! p in vi, oral (female [fingering] and male receiving) throat fucking, nipple play, spanking if you squint

note || I had to get him out of my system and I'm not even done, this piece is for my anger issues and I need a Miguel to fuck them out of me. please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Miguel fics, I have so many more ideas

legend || mi luciérnaga = my firefly; abre la boca = open your mouth; buena niña = good girl; mocosa = brat; puta = whore; dios mío = my god; niña traviesa = naughty girl

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“I do not have anger issues, who does he think he is?” you asked to no one in particular while walking around Miguel. He let out a sigh, pressing his fingertips against temples.

“He’s like what? 15, yeah you don’t say that to someone twice your age,” you continued, your blood pressure building up with every second you thought about the incident.

Miguel tried to be calm, but the last mission worked him up and scratched on his nerves. The mission went fairly well, except for you going ballistic and the newcomer – Miles – commenting on it. Oh, and the target almost escaping because of Miles which lead to all of this.

“Can’t fucking believe this, he was the reason the mission almost failed, and he dares to say I have anger issues!” the last part you nearly screamed. You never paused, always moving around.

You couldn’t stay calm, couldn’t calm down. Every vein beneath your skin run hot, some just waiting to explode.

Suddenly both of you heard someone coming near Miguel’s platform, said Spider turned around with a glare. He knew exactly who came and what would happen if you saw him, but now there was no preventing it.

You walked to the edge of the platform and looked down at Miles, “came to apologize?” you asked and crossed your arms over your chest.

Miles looked confused, no he wasn’t here to apologize, and he would make that clear, “you threatened me, screamed at me because I let the anomaly almost escape. You overreacted,” he stated.

Your eyes squinted together, expression hardening. “You can’t do a thing right and accuse me of having anger issues? I do not have fucking anger issues!”

Just as you were about lounge at Miles, arms wrapped around your waist, “enough,” Miguel’s deep voice rang through your ears. Normally his voice would smooth you, but you were already too gone.

Your man however ignored that and pushed you behind him.

“Miles, we will talk about this later. You made a mistake -,” “what, you’re saying she didn’t go bonkers?” Miles didn’t want to accept that what you did was right.

“If you’d let me finish, you would know that she will get her fair share of consequences,” Miguel snapped at the young boy, while it made a small part of Miles feel better it only angered you more.

“Are you serious? You let that little shit get away with saying I’m in the wrong? He lost the target and we had to-,” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Miles, leave,” Miguel’s voice was dark and left no room for back talk, he sounded scary to be honest.

Miles immediately left, knowing it was better for now and he needed to get away from you.

“We weren’t finished yet,” you barked at Miguel who didn’t bat an eye. You stalked up to him, trying to intimidate him – unsuccessfully. “Yes, we were and it’s time you calm down, mocosa,” he whispered and grabbed your waist.

You were manhandled onto his desk, wrists held together in his right hand. With his left hand he ripped down your suit, “you asshole! Can’t you-,” “yeah mocosa, stop your whining,” Miguel rolled his eyes.

Without warning he pushed pointer and middle finger into your drenched cunt, you gasped. Realising with just a few words he had you wet and in your rage you didn’t even notice.

He curled his fingers against your walls, your head fell back. Right hand letting go of your wrists and sliding down to your neck.

Miguel moved his head into the crook of your neck, kissing along your carotid artery.

A shudder run down your spine when you felt his sharp teeth graze your skin. You adored the feeling of his teeth piercing your skin as it made you feel a kind of pleasure nothing else brought you.

Miguel had easily picked up on that all those years ago and now used it taunt you, “niña traviesa,” he commented with a small smirk.

His fingers kept a slow pace, it was torture and Miguel knew that. “Miguel,” you snapped, a plead for more however the man above you wasn’t having it. “You think you can be a mocosa and I’ll just give you what you want?”

“I wasn’t a brat! It’s not my fault your spider people can’t do their job and then-,” “dios mío,” again Miguel cut you off, picking up the pace.

Hitting that spongy spot inside you which pulled a loud moan from your lips. As his fingers worked their magic on brining you closer to your high, Miguel run his tongue along your earlobe and gently nibbled on your skin. With your hands free you threaded them through his beautiful hair

You closed your eyes, the feeling just too wonderful and for a moment you lost yourself but quickly Miguel reminded you that this was a punishment.

“Look. At. Me,” his voice deep, commanding. His hand was suddenly in your hair, gripping it tight as he pulled your head back. It was a way to underline his words.

You looked at him with pleading eyes, god you loved this side of him. Miguel would make you take whatever he gave you if you could or not – you were surprised with how much you could actually take.

“I’ve barley did anything and you’re already putty in my hands,” he teased, slowing his pace down again. You wanted to scoff at his words.

He didn’t do ‘barley anything’, he almost bit into your sensitive neck, rubbed his fingertips over you bundle of nerves and hit your g-spot with every thrust. Miguel very well knew that all those little things would send your body into overdrive.

“You know exactly what you did!” you spit at him and drew a low chuckle from him, it amused him how you kept pushing, “are you that much of a puta for me that you can’t shut up?” “Guess if you want me to shut up then you have to fuck my-,” “fine.” Miguel retrieved his fingers from your cunt pulling a whine from you.

Both hands gripped your middle, manhandling you down to your knees. He gripped your chin with his thumb and pointer finger tilting your head up to look deep into your eyes.

Then his suit slowly started to dissolve, starting by his neck, and revealing his naked, toned chest, his broad shoulders, and muscled arms. The light of the screens dipped Miguel into a dangerous red which made him look like the devil in person.

Now he was completely naked, his mushroom formed tip hitting his lower abdomen. “Abre la boca,” when you didn’t instantly comply Miguel slapped your cheek, causing you to gasp and open your mouth, “now,” he added.

His thumb moved between your lips and pressed onto your tongue to make you kept your mouth open, “you’re going to be a buena niña and suck my cock.”

You caved and let your mouth hang open, tongue already awaiting him. At first, he gently placed his tip on your tongue, giving you a chance to taste his salty precum. Then without warning he thrusted his cock full on into your mouth.

You gagged as it hit the back of your throat, Miguel looked down on you. There was still a part of him that didn’t fit inside your mouth, but it was his mission to make sure it did.

Miguel began fucking your face, abusing your throat with his harsh thrusts. You looked up at him with teary eyes, his head was tipped back in pleasure and a deep groan fell from his lips. You clenched your thighs together, you were a whore for Miguel as it was already but something that always got you were his moans.

Miguel was vocal, so fucking vocal. For one his mouth never stopped running, but then there were his moans. They were deep, hoarse, and loud.

However, your throat couldn’t keep up with his pace any longer, though you loved the feeling of getting used by him too much. Salvia dripped from the corner of your mouth, his cock twitched in your mouth which was his cue to pull away.

You whimpered pathetically, of course Miguel catched up on that and wiped your mouth with his thumb. “Such a cock slut already, just for me,” he stroked over your hair before kneeling down your level and hosting up into his arms. Your back hit his desk, legs dangling over the edge.

“What hermosa? No, smart comment?” Miguel teased with a smirk, you couldn’t say a word. Your throat hurt, no tone would come from your lips.

Miguel dipped his head down, teeth closing around your nipple while his right hand grabbed your breast. Massaging it as his tongue lapped on your nipple, causing you to whimper again. In response your man slapped your breast making you moan, “fuck,” your voice barely audible, throaty thanks to Miguel.

Switching sides he sucked on your right nipple, your hand coming up to grab his hair and pulling on his roots. “Ay, dios mío,” Miguel moaned, loudly.

He pinched your neglected nipple causing you to arch your back and a line of goosebumps to adorn your skin.

Suddenly you felt his tip stroke over your drenched entrance, distracted by his work on your breasts you hadn’t noticed immediately.

“Miguel,” you whispered and in the next moment he had plunged his huge cock into your cunt. A pained yet pleasurable moan left your body, loud and hoarse.

His cock was big, and thick, god even after all this years you needed time to adjust to his size. You could feel those veins, how he stretched you out. “Don’t fret mi luciérnaga, I’m not fully inside you yet,” Miguel whispered against your lips before kissing you.

You loved his kisses, they were full of fire and passion. Miguel kissed you like he owned you – he did, and it was one of your favourite things. His lips were so soft and warm, sliding over yours before his teeth bit into your bottom lip.

“After all those years and you’re still so tight,” he gushed and slowly pushed deeper inside you, lifting his head to look at you with a smirk.

“Feel that mi luciérnaga? Feel me deep inside your belly,” Miguel pressed his hand onto your stomach, feeling his tip bulge out, “am I too big for you?” he taunted.

You didn’t know what possesed you, but something did, “you wish,” you snapped. Miguel looked dumbfounded for a second before his expression turned into a glare, “guess my mocosa is back.”

He pulled out all the way before harshly pushing back in with his full length, cunt pulsing around him as he pounded into you without mercy. You couldn’t catch a break, he constantly hit your sensitive spot, “you like it, huh, like me fucking you like the puta you are,” aside from his cock pushing you into an abyss of pleasure, Miguel’s voice made you shiver.

It also didn’t help that he groaned uncontrollably, growling when you tightened around him. You were close, so fucking close and he knew it.

Miguel wrapped your legs tight around his waist to keep you close. His thrusts became harsher, and his thumb pressed down on your bundle of nerves, drawing hard circles.

His pace was animalistic, “look at you, mi luciérnaga already cock drunk. That’s what you need, someone to fuck all the anger out of you, fuck you dumb.” You couldn’t say anything, only unidentified words came past your lips.

Your high was near, it came and washed over you like a fresh shower, “mhm, come for me, buena niña,” Miguel only strengthened it.

“I’m not finished yet,” he stated and manhandled you, so your back was turned to him.

All the while still having his cock in your needy cunt and fucking you through your orgasm. His hands gripped your ass as he rutted into you, “Miguel,” you whined, holding onto his desk, “come on where’s your fire mi luciérnaga?” he slapped your ass.

You had nothing in you anymore, your head was completely empty. As much as would’ve wanted, you couldn’t. You just laid there, enjoying the pleasure, and taking everything Miguel gave you.

“Maldito infierno,” he cursed as he reached his orgasm, for a moment he stilled inside you and painted your velvet walls with his cum. Filling you up to the brim, not pulling out.

He slid his hand around you and pulled you against his broad chest, right hand wrapping around your throat like a necklace.

“How you feeling mi luciérnaga,” he whispered, softly stroking your sides while you closed your eyes.

“’m fine, Miggy,” you mused laying your head on his shoulders. Everything felt at peace, you were calm and had no issues with anything.

You could just lean against Miguel and he would take of you. He scooped you up and slowly pulled out to make sure he didn't hurt you, his cum leaking out of your cunt. A sight Miguel could never forget – one he didn't want to forget.

Miguel went to your universe, laying you into your bed and cleaning you up. Meanwhile you dazed around, until he joined you in bed.

"I don't have anger issues," you muttered into him as you cuddled up against him.

He covered you two with the blanket, "no, you don't," he agreed and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. You were fast asleep, tired and spend while Miguel admired your beauty.

You have anger issues, always will but Miguel knew an affective method to control them. Add to that he loved your fire, needed it.

And Miles did fuck up.

please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Miguel fics, I have so many more ideas

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[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (1)

BTS ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N I am very excited for this story! It has a good amount of world building that I enjoy doing so much! I took inspiration from Stay Alive by Jungkook/Suga in case you guys didn’t know! The beginnings are of course slow but that’s how most stories are to build up the tension. I hopeful for this story and I hope you all like it! Please feel free to ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

People walk among the same earth constantly. However the thing that sets us apart is the path we all take. Sometimes it's the same, other times it's the opposite. Some of us are meant for higher things while some are meant to suffer until things start to look up for us all. 

In a lifetime sometimes we won’t ever get the chance to see ourselves reach the peak we want. There are struggles we all face that will cause setbacks in the path we are taking. Only the ones who are strong enough to see the road to the end make it out alive. 

There will always be those out there who will achieve their goals in life some way or another. Those are the ones who don’t allow those setbacks to dictate their entire life. And maybe along the way someone will come along to help you grow stronger. Whether it’s one person or a whole group. You will see to the end of your path one way or another. 

“Most often than not you will be working on filing. If we are understaffed on a day, like today, we might send you in to write reports on the medicine we have already administered.” Suho, the lady who was placed as your preceptor, explained to you.

You had a grateful smile on your face, happy to finally get to start working. While it wasn’t the place you had been hoping for, you knew the pay was well for the kind of student debts you had. The pharmaceutical lab was meant to administer different kinds of medicines to the people who would sign up for a trial. They did the test on patients before they were given out to people. 

While you were being placed on the front desk for the most part, you knew you would need to work your way up to the spot you wanted and you were more than happy to reach for it. 

“What kind of medicine do you guys make?” You asked, trying to think about all that you had read on the company's website. 

It didn’t really give much about what they focus on so you found it really odd that they were so wide when it came to the things they were trying to cure. 

“You applied here and don't even know?” Suho frowned, looking at you appalled.

“I tried asking at the interview but they just gave me vague answers.” You explained. “The website doesn't tell you anything either.”

“We are very on top of the things we do here at HYBE.” She began to tell you. “There aren’t many people we trust to be hired onto the team so consider yourself lucky to be apart of it.”

“We make sure that our patients here are taken care of because we are a company that is trying hard to reach their goals. Because of that we are detail oriented when it comes to the patients we accept. Not just anyone can be a patient here.” 

While she did a bit more about the kind of company you were working at, it still didn’t really tell you about what it was you were working for. You didn’t choose to question it, knowing that the paycheck they gave you was a luxury for a lot of people. 

“Here are some of your patients for the day. They have already been given the medicine, it's up to you to check up on them for daily research.” You took the six files the lady handed you, nodding your head. 

You placed them onto the small desk area they had given you before going through them to check on the appointment times and ordering them correctly. The first one on your list should be waiting in the lobby by now so you were quick to take the papers and move along to the waiting room.

“Mrs. Han?” You called, a smile on your face. 

An older woman with a younger one came to a stand, slowly shuffling over to where you waited for them at the door. 

“Hello, Mrs. Han. How are you today?” You asked politely, leading the two women towards the scale. 

“I'm doing great! I'm so excited to share some news about the medicine you gave me.” The older woman exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. 

You hummed, keeping the friendly look as you wrote down her weight on the paper. You told them to follow you to a patient room to speak to her privately. 

“I see it was something for your dementia.” You spoke, moving the laptop in the room closer so you could take down everything the lady would tell you. “Is everything going okay?”

“It's wonderful!” The other lady exclaimed for her mother. At least you assumed it was her daughter from the notes that people already had written for you. Her daughter was the one who was in charge of all Mrs. Han’s things.

“You would not believe it but it's almost as though she's regressed in her illness! Mother was in a terrible state when she was offered this trial medicine. She took it and suddenly it was almost like she went back to before it grew to be terrible.”

You tried to write down what the woman was saying, but you knew there were more questions to ask before concluding the entire meeting. 

“Maybe she can get back to normal if she takes more.” The daughter spoke in a hopeful tone. 

“One step at a time, Mrs. Byun.” You kept the smile on your face so as to not let them think they weren’t going to find the help they needed. “We have to see how long this medicine will last first before giving her more doses.” You explained.

“Also, memory loss is nothing to be overly worried about if it's on occasion. Even I forget something's as well.” You told them. 

If there was one thing you studied, it was medicine. You knew the consequences of taking too much or too little. This company was in the slow movement of developing them so they had to be careful about how they administered their projects. People probably came in thinking they could get more if they worked perfectly the first time. However these kinds of things were tests, not the real deal.

“Of course.” Mrs. Byun nodded in understanding. 

The rest of the visit went by smoothly as you took down all the older woman’s rants and aches about the whole thing. With these kinds of surveys it was really about asking how each patient felt even if it was the smallest of things. You wouldn’t be able to tell if it had to do with the medicine or with something else.

As you told Mrs. Han and her daughter goodbye, scheduling the next appointment, the rest of you patient trickled in one-by-one. 

There was a man who had come in for a bad liver–he was an avid drinker–so the medicine was for corrosion to that organ. While you really tried not to say something about it, you felt annoyed that the man had explained that he still had a drink every once in a while. He was like Mrs. Han, the medicine was doing wonders. 

There was a child who had chickenpox, who’s mother explained that the rash that had taken over her son’s body was slowly dwindling down. Another lady who had come in for amnesia which only said that her memory was returning to before she had gotten into an accident. The others had external injuries like scrapes of their knees or a deep cut that needed stitches. From what you could see they were just given some sort of pain medication. They had expressed that their wounds didn’t hurt and it was actually healing at a fast rate. 

“They really work with a lot of medicine.” You spoke to yourself as you looked over the last file you had. You frowned your eyebrows when you saw the patient was in another level of the building. It was the lower levels, which meant in the basement of sorts. From what you knew that was where the labs were. 

“That's odd.” You tilted your head in confusion but made your way over to the elevators anyway. With your ID card, you pressed onto one of the underground levels, leaning back against the metal wall. When the doors opened, you were met with a lobby that had a couple of different doctors moving about. 

Following the signs, you found the door that led to some of the rooms patients were stationed in. You showed the security guard your ID explaining you were in that level of the building to check up on a patient. He took a look at the file you had in your hand, humming as he opened a door to the back for you. 

Overlooking the file once more to make sure you had the right number, you quietly counted the doors. As you passed by one, you felt a shiver go down your back causing you to halt in your tracks. The number three stared back at you as a weird feeling flowed over your shoulders. It felt like something was brushing up against them, pushing at your form. 

You quickly turned back around making your way to the room next to it. You checked over the file one more time. It didn’t really give you much about the medicine the patient had been given. All it said was that they were someone who was meant to be staying in the building for better observation. There were a couple of papers that you seemed to be missing, you noticed.

Before opening the door, you knocked politely. “Hello?” You softly called as you stuck your head in. 

The only light on was the bedside lamp which illuminated the dark room. You frowned at the aspect of there being no windows that would allow light from outside to come in. As you walked in closer, you let go of the door to have it shut by itself. “Mr. Jeon?”

“Who are you?” You gasped, nearly tripping on your feet from the hard flinch you felt take over. 

You took in the man who was standing behind you, trying to regulate your breathing. He only looked at you with a raised brow, his expression passive. You took up his large form, noticing the blue scrubs he wore were almost tight around his physic. He didn’t wear any shoes–was even foregoing to wear socks. 

“Oh,” You said as your breath returned to your lungs. “My name is (Y/N). Today is my first day so I guess I'll be your new nurse.” You explained to him.

“What are you doing here?” As he took a step closer to you, you subconsciously took one back. “You don't deserve to be here.” His voice went quiet as his eyes turned soft. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his worried expression, smiling awkwardly as you patted your hands to wipe the sweat forming on them. 

“I needed a job. Got school debt to pay off.” You tried to joke with him. He looked too serious, which made you anxious to touch him for his vitals. “I'm here to do a check up. Would you mind?” You asked, trying to build up the courage to get close to him. 

He didn’t say anything, just poked his cheek with his tongue, moving to the bed. You smiled in thanks, looking around the room to find the equipment needed. You purse your lips when you realize you would need to check his heart rate manually. Finding the padding needed to place around his arm, you made your way over to the man.

He flinched back as your hands moved to touch his arm, causing you to stop. “I’m going to check your heart rate.” You explained, remembering that you were the kind of person to make sure people knew what it was you were going to do. 

As he kept his dark eyes on you, he allowed you to softly touch his scrub sleeve as you moved the fabric up to place the padding in the right area of the arm. You moved your stethoscope from around your neck. “It’s going to be a bit cold.” You whispered. 

As you moved on with the check up, you watched the numbers on the dial move carefully counting to yourself. When you finished getting what you needed, you quickly let go of the air and moved the padding off his arm. As you did that, your eyes seemed to blur over the ink the man had. 

Your fingers gently squeezed his bicep, softly moving down the length of his arm. Your gaze drifted over each color and picture the man had, trying to figure out where one picture ended and the next started. As your fingers glided over his pulse on his wrists, the man involuntarily shivered at the touch. 

“Sorry.” You quickly pulled back, looking back up at him. “Your tattoos are really nice. I've never seen so many.” You bashfully smiled at him. 

He only looked at you curiously, his big eyes taking in your facial expressions. It made you feel flustered as he looked at you so deeply, causing you to lick your lips and look away. 

“You have a very strong heart. Very good blood flow.” You told him, turning away to write down his vitals. He slowly got off the bed and moved closer to you. 

“It doesn't say which medicine you've been taking which is really weird.” You frowned, looking over all the papers that you were given. There were some things missing but you assumed the high ups were looking over it. 

“You're different.” You jumped at the voice that spoke directly behind you. Turning around you tilted your head up at the man.

“How so?” You asked.

“You're nice.” The boy squinted his eyes at you, like he was trying to figure you out.

“Are the others not?” You frowned.

“Not the ones who come down here.” He told you.

You tried to quickly cover up your upset expression, looking up at the doe-eyed man with a smile. “Well I hope I'm able to come down here again.” You took up the paper you had written on. There wasn’t much explanation on what you had to ask him so you chose to go back up and see if you could figure out what else to do.

“Have a good day, Mr. Jeon.” You smiled brightly, waving from the door.

Jungkook tilted his head to the side as a warmth spread through his chest from your words. Not a day had gone by that he wasn't thinking about the dreaded place as though it was a sentence in hell. He had never met someone like you; someone who spoke to him as though he too was a person.

It made him light headed to think about the way your words affected him. He couldn't think of the last time someone had ever uttered those kinds of words to him. It had been so long-alone thinking this was what life was going to be like for the rest of his life. But suddenly things changed in the blink of an eye.

“Maybe.”

Series Masterlist

[bbanghiitomi]

| when things don't go your way

synopsis: what do you call someone you're not dating but someone in your arms? hanni asks that question herself often but always comes to the same answer: which is you.

— nonidol!filmstudent!phanni! × nonidol!journalismstudent!fem!reader

ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠ლ⁠) ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠ლ⁠) ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠ლ⁠) ლ⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^

honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

y/n, are u not coming to see me?

i miss you already...

haven't seen you for a month.

how's ur org doing?

received.

you find yourself smiling as you read her messages, it seems like just the casual hi and hello's, the simple updates that friends are supposed to be sharing with each other aren't enough to satisfy the pham's need to be able to see your face, hear your voice and touch you. she's right actually, the last time you've seen each other was a month ago, before your journalism organization started being busy once again and her life has been a lot more boring ever since. there have been lots of restless nights where you think to yourself that there's no such rest as good as hanni's hugs, you really need her embrace, her arms around your waist.

god i miss her…

you can't help but think to yourself whilst you sit in one of the journalism organization room swivel chairs, working in front of a computer for the next online publishing of the university's news publishing website. it's almost 9pm, the lights are dim and the last person who you were with inside the room was the radio broadcasting group's director — danielle marsh, who then left with the sports writer kang haerin. they've been going in and out together for the past couple of months, which went unnoticed by some members of the faculty as it was seen as “typical” and very on character for them to do so.

you weren't new to that thing too, it's pretty obvious they've got a thing for each other and they're pretty open about it if anything.

unlike you.

just seeing the two made you miss hanni so much more, and it's quite selfish to think of such things because everyone, including the sane part of your brain knew that there's nothing between the two of you except for friendship — worn like a cloak to hide a secret. you can't remember why this whole arrangement between you and hanni started, when did you start sharing kisses? when did you start taking her home? what was the reason you visited her place even if it was late at night? why were you even so adamant about being there for her when she needs someone? why did both of you agree not to put any meaning behind these things? those thoughts were at the back of your mind, it shouldn't matter actually and when you think about it you try not to pry yourself about how it should matter that much — at the end of the day, things are not going to change.

if the walls of your room could talk, your secrets would no longer be something shared between you and hanni.

well, you've been on thin ice for such a long time — at this point, you assume that everyone in your organization and her club already has an idea about your relationship with hanni and are quite in a stump about it but that's too far from the truth, in fact — there were hardly anyone who notices the little things you do. everytime you think about her, the shared secrets together, the things about you that only she knows — you can't even find a reason to hate yourself for entertaining something people won't find appealing. it's been so long, why would you even go back to where it all started to stop this from escalating even further when you could just go with it until the end.

you know, you're going to hold onto this till the end, thinking that there will be that time where you and hanni can settle things down and accept what needs to be accepted and leave what needs to be left behind.

maybe, things will get better eventually…

you just hope you can stick with this until — you can finally call her… yours.

honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

hm…

i'll think about it.

miss me already?

the org's doing just fine, hbu?

sent.

you drop your phone on the table as you close the tabs of the computer and then turn the computer off. you stay on the chair for a few more minutes, waiting for her reply as you fiddle the hem of your shirt with your fingers. quite nervous, confused as to why you were nervous — you can't help but just laugh, not having any explanation as to why you're suddenly acting like a giddy teenager girl over your so-called "friend".

crap… you think to yourself, it's really late now but you were hoping to see her again, at least even for just an hour or-so.

i wonder what she's up to now.

honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

oh! the club's doing well!

we just finished our project and were hoping to release it soon.

you know how giddy i get about it, right?

i wish you were here with me so i can tell you all about it.

received.

you feel the familiar heat crawling up to your cheeks, you tap at the screen only for a few seconds and then pick it up. you wonder why, even before you kissed her, no matter how many times you tried setting yourself up with other girls — it wasn't effective at all. behind those words you told other people is hanni lingering at the back of your mind, the image of her face clear in your eyes until you just gave up, leaving yourself falling into her arms.

just how many times have i tried?

i can't even remember.

you thought then just gave up.

honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

yeah…

i wish i was there, where are you anyway?

i mean, maybe i can come and see you.

right?

sent.

you stare at her message for a few seconds then you stand up and grab your bag that's been left unattended on the floor for a few hours since you first started working on the articles. you have absolutely no idea about what you're doing, it's just you doing whatever once again and doing it in the most random time ever but that's just because you missed hanni so much.

it won't hurt, right?

spending just some time to see her again.

honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

wait, really?

i mean…

that's great!

but what about your roommate?

will minji not look for you?

received.

that's the thing, minji has been your roommate for almost two years — yes, that long. she's practically like your sibling at this point, one that you can always trust and lean on when you need a shoulder to hold onto or someone to cry on. minji used to be also a part of the film making organization in your university. she used to work with hanni on some projects for school until she left to focus on writing her own stuff on her own accord. so, minji is someone hanni already knew before she met you.

minji knows your thing with hanni and is at first troubled by it, but then it's not like it's something unethical, right? it's just secrets and a relationship with no label, it doesn't hurt anyone aside from you and hanni. that's the thing, minji feels bad that you subject yourself to self-harm — which is a relationship where you have no right to feel jealous about. she knows it sucks, how many times have she asked you: “what’s really between you and hanni?” and you always answer her. “nothing, we're close friends.” even though she's seen you cuddling with hanni on your couch, awfully closer than normal.

she worries your mother might find out even before you make it official between the two of you,

you know, she knows you're screwed if it were to happen.

minji has basically given up prying her way into your business but still tries to watch out whenever you feel sad or frustrated. she's always there when you need her — she's obviously a great friend that even your parents trust.

honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

nah, don't worry

i’ll tell her.

she’ll be alright.

where are you?

sent.

honey ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

great, i’m here at my condominium

just, you know? waiting…

hope you come here asap

;)))

received.

you grab your backpack and sling to your shoulder, making your way past the rows of computers lined and exiting the room. you see the dim corridor, your eyes follow along the lines of doors and the straight path to the stairways, and under the dark hall the pictures of when you first met hanni lingered at the back of your mind, right at the end of the corridor.

r u carps, min?

hey minji,

bro

i won't be home 2night

take care of the dorm and heat up the pizza

i got some money under the flower base and just take it to order sum whatever…

lov ur roommate, y/n

sent.

and with a blink, you come back to reality and start running your way to the stairs and reaching the ground floor — rushing as soon as possible to get to the open parking lot where your scooter is parked, you open your top box with your keys and immediately place your bag inside before locking it once again.

r u carps, min?

dude wtf?

why now? ur mom will be here tomorrow.

y/n?

hey!

BRO!!!!

ur such an asshole

you know that?

come on…

ur dead

received.

as the engine ignites, all your worries are pushed back behind before the motor accelerates and you finally find your way outside the campus then to her condominium.

“you’ve been away for so long.” hanni grumbles, arms wrapping themselves around your torso, you laugh at her expression, a cute pout adoring her pink lips and her eyes full of stars inside of them. it's almost like she has the universe in her pupils. “only for a month by the way, i’m guessing you really feel lonely here.” you tell her, raising your brows at her direction with a smile on your lips. she nods, snuggling closer to your body on the bed, she feels like a koala the way she couldn't let go of your figure.

“of course! aside from my parents, you're really the only one i want here with me.” she says, well it's nothing but the truth but hearing it made something inside you tremble. it's something you cannot understand but something you feel very deep inside, you only smile at her.

she could bring anyone she wants here.

and you would still not be able to tell her nothing, because you have no right to do so.

she's free to do whatever she wants to do.

and that must be your fault, right?

you place a hand on top of her head, patting her soft hair under your palm. “seriously, this is why you feel lonely. having a friend or two here other than me wouldn't be so bad.” you express out of genuine feelings, though it's nice to know you're the only one she wants, you can't help but feel guilty that you're making her wait or expect too much to the point she's not allowing anyone inside of her life aside from you.

at the end of the day, you only want her to be happy.

but that's not the case, for a relationship that doesn't have any label — hanni seems committed to it.

you haven't even said anything but she's already sure she's yours, and it honestly makes you feel bad even if it is a mutual feeling you two both share.

“i really only want you…” hanni buries her head on your neck, snuggling close for warmth and you can't help but wrap your arm around her, to keep her close as if anyone was going to take her away from you if you don't. “it's okay, i won't be away for any longer anymore. i promise.” you whisper, you feel hanni nod her head and feel her lips against your skin as she speaks. “promise me you’ll be here with me forever?” you look down on her, eyes directly on her cheek, her face hidden on your neck. “i will.” you smile at her.

maybe, you are really that tired that when you open your eyes it's already 9am in the morning yet hanni is still wrapped around your arms. the sun shines so much brighter on days like this, it must have been her presence beside you and everyday should have been like this if things were different.

there is still a chance for you to change it.

you start to see it.

“are you sure i can come to you and minji’s place today?” hanni asks, looking up from her plate of food, she tilts her head as she asks, eyes meeting your own pair. “well yeah, you know minji would never mind.” you say, bringing your utensils down before smiling at her direction. “besides, it’s not a busy day today.” you add.

you take the helmet in hanni’s hands and help her wear it on her head, making sure it's strapped tight. as your hands let go of the helmet, you notice hanni staring at your face and you raise your brows at her. “what?” you ask. hanni giggles and shakes her head. “nothing, i just… feel giddy about being with you today after what felt like forever.” she says and you almost saw the entire galaxy inside of her eyes the way it shines, the wait the light sparkles, you can't help but be mesmerized.

you nod at her and place a kiss on her cheek. “of course, it's not everyday we get to be like this together.” you huff and hop on the motor, hanni follows and wraps her arms around your waist.

when you get to your shared apartment’s front door you notice the weird aura of the place, you hesitate to open the door as you stand still looking at the wooden entrance, hanni peeks behind you and wonders why you haven't touched the doorknob.

now… i must be paranoid.

it's oddly quiet or somehow, there's a strange presence looming around the place and you don't know what it was.

you take the doorknob in your hand and feel its cold surface, sending shivers on your spine. you twist it and enter inside, slowly stepping a foot and looking around to see if anyone beside minji is present, hanni follows quietly but is still confused. your eyes widen when you spot your mom standing by the living room and seemingly pacing around, in panic and quite in a rush, impatient.

you feel a rush of adrenaline pumping in your veins as you immediately take a step back, pull hanni outside then close the door gently. “w-what’s wrong? is there an intruder inside?” hanni asks, worried that there might actually be an intruder, which ironically turned out to be your mom. you laugh sheepishly and scratch the back of your head. “uh no? i just remembered that minji wasn't around and… we can go grab food somewhere before coming back—” your words are cut off when the door opens to, none other than minji.

“minji..?” hanni looks behind you, to the door as minji stands with a hard expression on her face.

“where have you been?” minji asks, her tone is strict and impatient for an immediate answer, her eyes bore behind you and then dart back at hanni. “and why is hanni here?” she adds to the pile of questions.

you turn around and shake your head. “ah, i didn't know you were here… crap, i was at her place yesterday and i thought i’d hang around with her here ‘cause you wouldn't mind, right?” you shrug, minji kept her serious face but sighs, rubbing her temple with her fingers. “y/n, i won't of course. but you know who will?” she says, clearly frustrated.

hanni squints her eyes at minji. “who?”

“her mom, she's here today, waiting for y/n inside.” minji answers, you flinch at the idea before turning your head at hanni who frowns and looks away. “i didn't know she'd be here!” you whisper aggressively, rubbing your face with your hand.

“dude, i messaged you yesterday. you didn't even bother reading it.” minji argues, which was the truth but you were riding your scooter to hanni's place when you received the message — it was the reason you didn't have the time to read it.

with your face buried on your palm, you grumbled. “dude, i was riding my scooter that time…”

hanni sighs and places her hand on your shoulder, you put your head up and look at her. “i’m leaving for now i guess, you'd be in more trouble if she sees me.” hanni says, giving you a small smile.

you furrow your brows, you think to yourself that there must be a way — there's something you can definitely do, doesn't matter what there has to be something!

you stare at her, pursing your lips before reaching out for her hand and shaking your head. “no, you'll stay. don't worry i’ll take care of this, please just stay.” you tell her, minji’s expression turns into confusion — as if, your ways of salvaging you and hanni's relationship seemed absurd to minji's level of understanding.

“wait? y/n are you crazy? you're gonna get you both in trouble!” minji says, already scolding you even before the trouble happens. you look at her and shake your head, holding hanni’s hand tight. “no, that's my mom — i know her, we’ll be alright. i promise.” you look back at hanni to give her a small smile again, caressing the soft skin of her hand under yours to soothe the unstable feeling stressing her out.

the door opens once again but this time it's your mother who exits and her eyes dart at the three figures standing. “y/n? where have you been, young lady!” she yells, you laugh and look at her with a sheepish expression before pulling hanni slightly closer beside you. “i stayed somewhere only for a night. i swear, no troubles.” your mother seems to notice hanni’s presence beside you and raises her brow towards hanni, her scary aura unchanging.

hanni took a deep breath, opening her lips as if about to say a word but she fails miserably when your mother glares at her. “and who is this girl?” your mother asks, her voice asking irritatedly. you look at hanni before wrapping your arm around her torso, getting a look of doubt from your mother but mostly directed to hanni, who gulps a lump inside her throat. “hi — i’m y/n’s —”

“she's my girlfriend, mom.” you grin at your mother, hanni and minji both looked shocked at the sudden revelation — you were confident, this time you’re sure and there's no way you’ll take it back again, not this time or never again. hanni looks at you and her eyes shake when it meets your mother's gaze.

“oh, what..?” minji mutters, feeling her head spinning, she blinks in confusion and looks at the three people all facing one another. hanni blushes, aggressively gripping the hem of your shirt, looking up at you as if you said something crazy which is indeed crazy, out of character even.

“oh, really?” your mom adds, her voice softens but her eyes remain the same.

hanni looks at your mom, nodding her head gently.

“yes, i’m your daughter’s girlfriend, ma'am. nice to meet you…” hanni smiles, still quite hesitant, like a curious cat dipping its paws in something it doesn't know — but in hanni’s case she has her hand sticking out for a handshake.

somehow, your mother's eyes softened or is hanni just deluding herself into believing so?

she hopes, your mom did — because she shouldn't be seeing things, she's still sane after all!

yes, your mother did soften her gaze.

hanni may not be that crazy after all.

just a little, just for you.

“yeah! you're okay with it, right mom? hanni’s a very nice girl and she lets me sleep at her place when i stay at school late and she cooks me breakfast and she helps me with my homeworks. she helps me clean my room, helps me with my laundry and —” even before you finish rambling about how hanni basically keeps your life stable your mom raises her index finger to your way to shush you down before she steps forward to take a closer look at hanni.

your mother looks at hanni’s hand and reaches for it before shaking it, feeling hanni’s sweating and trembling hand. “nice to meet you, is my daughter too much work? i know she's a little handful sometimes.” you slump your shoulders as you mother jokes, hanni laughs— you notice the change in her voice, feeling your girlfriend starting to relax herself. “she isn't, i’m happy to be helping her.” hanni answers, feeling her cheeks flush and her blood boiling on her face.

“that's good to know, she's very dependent.”

minji nods and huffs. “yes, she is!” you roll your eyes at her.

you mother lets go of hanni’s hand and turns away to walk inside the door, but before she enters she calls for minji. “help me arrange the table.” she says, to which minji followed almost immediately.

hanni feels like laughing, there's a certain type of warmth blooming inside of her when she realizes what just happened. she blinks only for a bit, trying to do something to make sure she isn't daydreaming or dreaming whilst asleep — and she had just confirmed that she is indeed awake, none of what happened was fake and the warmth of your arm proved it.

“hanni.” you call out to her. hanni puts a hand on her mouth and looks up at you, starstrucked to actually see your mother up close.

“i’m your girlfriend?” she asks, to make sure you're not bluffing.

you smile and nod, giving her the type of gaze that means “i love you”.

“you are, you're my girlfriend.” you tell her.

hanni feels like crying this time, there's something about it that she can't explain — something about finally being able to hold onto something that isn't a thin thread of hope for something that will break apart in no time, without her knowing. something about finally being able to actually express her feelings without holding back sends waves of relief inside of hanni.

why has she not thought of this earlier? why didn't you tell her that earlier?

hanni embraces you in a tight hug, her face buried in your shoulder as she sobs. “oh my god…” you feel her speak. you laugh, petting her head. “hey now, i promise i’m not lying.”

hanni sniffs and looks up at you. “i love you.” she whispers, eyes covered with tears and cheeks are bright red, before breaking into a wide smile. “i love you too.” you tell her back before giving her a small kiss on her lips.

[sunandsstars]

some tik tokers REALLYYY piss me off.

So you guys know about the Britain Dalton thing? If you don’t, he supposedly groomed a minor on insta or snapchat or whatever, they were sending sexual messages to eachother. But the girl came out and said she lied about her age to him, she told Britain she was 19 when in reality she’s 14, when Britain found out he blocked her.

This comment was trying to justify the girl, saying that she was groomed and Britain should be held accountable or something, i can’t remember. I responded saying that the girl could have been wanting to gain attention and that the messages could have been fake but the comment is on my dick about it, asking me how the messages could be fake and how the girl would want attention 💀

like, the answer is so obvious. First off you can get fake messaging apps online or go onto websites, i used them for school projects all the time, she could have used them to fake messages. Second, Britain is a rising actor, he’s been in one of the most top rated movies in the box office, he’s gonna get a lot of people in his DMs wanting attention from him. By posting all of it online the girl obviously got that, why would the messages be leaked otherwise? she posted them for attention. anyone else would want to keep that stuff private.

“just accept the fact he did something bad” the comment said, Britain was deceived, he was lied to, he thought he was talking to someone close in age to him but was instead told it was a 14 year old. He did nothing wrong, he blocked her as soon as he found out which was the right thing to do. How could he have known what he was doing was bad if he thought he was talking to a consenting adult? the girl knew what she was doing, she’s 14 for fucks sake not 5. she has a brain.

also Britain has severe anxiety, i’m confused on how he would be messaging this random girl sexual things?? if someone came into my DMs like that i would be freaked out and disgusted, and i don’t have anxiety.

[the-very-rubiest]

Alright my lovely mutuals, I'm pulling you aside for a sec.

Every day I come on here and see so many of you talking badly about yourselves. Every day I open this website and see lovely, kind, passionate, creative, talented people calling themselves unlovable, unworthy, unwanted, and so many other nasty things that they don't deserve. And I get it. When you grew up being made to feel like you were all these things, not internalizing that thought is goddamn hard. But I'm still here to tell you all a story.

Last semester I knew a guy who was, frankly, the biggest Negative Nancy I've ever met. I don't remember a single time he had something nice to say about anything. Personally, I thought he was a bitch and had to bite my tongue really hard to keep from arguing with him. Sometimes I failed.

But guess what? The guys in my group loved him. They thought he was the funniest guy on earth, did activities with him, invited him to visit each other's places after the semester ended and everyone returned home. In fact, he was better liked in that group than I was—he was consistently included while I was slowly iced out, because I guess having one random girl there ruins the feeling of boys' night. (Which I understand, I just think they handled it poorly.)

Another time, in the intro group I mentored, there was one of the creepiest men I've ever met in my own age range. I won't get into the details of his creepery, only that he made me and several other girls severely uncomfortable every time he'd had a few drinks, and sometimes even sober. The kind of person where you really, really ask yourself how anyone could possibly stand their company.

But guess what? For the longest time, the whole group still enjoyed his company. They thought he was fun, they included him in conversations and on the dancefloor at parties; and even after he'd crossed the line so many times that we mentors were considering kicking him out, the very girls who had brought it to us were willing to give him another chance after he'd apologized. In my opinion it wasn't even an apology. But people were still willing to keep including him.

And those are just two examples. I've met many, many people. And I can give you many, many stories of people who were mean, selfish, immature, or objectively terrible who others saw, flaws and all, and still considered worth their time. Who still had friends, even close ones (and yes—often perfectly lovely people), who looked past their bullshit and enjoyed their company.

Now let me ask you a question.

Do you seriously think you're less worthy of people's love, time and attention than people who don't even try to be likable, considerate, or remotely kind?

There is no magical threshold for how amazing, charismatic, and super speshiful you have to be to be liked by others. If you feel like you always have to be perfect, always interesting, never make a single mistake, to be liked—you're probably with the wrong crowd. If the people around you make you feel like that: You. Are. With. The. Wrong. Crowd. There's nothing wrong with you. And finding the right people is hard, especially as an adult with limited time and energy, but you have to hold onto the knowledge that this isn't all that's in the cards for you. You're not hopeless.

Or maybe it's not even that. Maybe you just lack confidence. And listen, I get it. I, too, grew up as "the friend nobody liked" for many years. But you know what helps? Pretending to have confidence. If you go into interactions convinced that nobody cares anyway, or that you're annoying, or whatever else you tell yourself—that belief will show, and other people will pick up on it and think the same. You gotta stand behind yourself. That's the whole trick all the above-mentioned people used to get a foot in the door—they believed they were worthy of everyone else's time and energy, so others believed it too.

And I know this speech won't make deeply ingrained feelings of inadequacy or loneliness go away overnight. It won't change old patterns. But maybe it'll give you food for thought. Because if you care about your surroundings, and you try to be kind, and you have things you love and care about—what more can anyone expect from you? What more can you expect from yourself?

[bozothe-clown]

So this was somewhat requested by @al3x-y and motivated me to write this story about my post where Fell Bitty Sans is left in a box on the street. Here is the image.

Alright, GN!READER will be in this story and me as well, so let's begin. My trans name is Michael, not to confuse anyone.

}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{

You walked around a pretty nasty street trash scattered around the road, slowly chipping away. You followed a Bitty website that said there was a Bitty for sale many people where going to see that Bitty You had to quickly clock out of work in order to get there before to many Bitty obsessed people got there "When did your Bitty shit apply to me?" Michael questioned,"Just now, and I need you to hold that duffle a little bit like you care. " You snap. Michael grumbles and throws the duffle bag over his shoulder a little better. You smile and quicken your pace, You swiftly turn the corner and see the Bitty auction going on many MANY people raising their money in the air and trying to get...ONE BITTY! You groaned,but still it was a Bitty and it look...very weak like it wasn't being taken care of properly Michael had a look of sad in his eyes for a minute before handing You the dufflebag and floated through the busy crowd You groand and waited behind as yourself didn't want to start a fight or anything to cause a commotion You heard people yell and shout "Sounds like a fucking riot-" Before you finished your sentence a brick hit your head you screamed in pain no one stopping to see if you were okay not even Michael.......

You frantically screamed Michael's name before You were picked up by a floating humanoid person which you had recognized as Michael but with bits of blood on his clothes You opened your mouth to say something but Michael stop you "everything went well the bag and everything in one piece now let's get out of here and take care of you at home" he said while carefully picking you up and walking away "did you get the Bitty?..." You quietly ask not see the Bitty since the fight ended Michael cleared his throat "yeah the Bitty is in the bag looks like the person selling it gave the Bitty some drugs making it pass out and have little to no memory of what the "owners" did to the Bitty..." Michael said, approaching Your apartment he then opend the apartment door and set you down on the couch and start to take everything out of the bag You turned your head only to see that the Bitty was most definitely drugged you wanted to cry right on the spot but you held back. Michael could tell by the way that you look you wanted to cry on someone shoulder and he knew that feeling all to well he put his focus back onto the Bitty and getting it all settle into the apartment after that is done he walks to you seeing you wipe some tears that have fallen lose from your eyes he felt the pain you felt for the Bitty he sighed and gave you hug allowing you to either pull away or fully hug him and then seconds later you find yourself crying into Michael shoulder you hated the way that this town has treated Bitty for the bast 5 years you’ve tried to help as many Bittys as possible but you were either to late or the Bitty was far from alive and this is the only time that you have succeeded in taking a Bitty that isn’t….dead or you were to late you had so many mixed emotions you didn’t know what to feel the Bitty start to awake for it drugged slumber you want to get up and cheer but right now your head hurt and you didn’t want to scare the bitty anymore then it already is.

"So you're telling me cops can just come into YOUR apartment and say that YOU are an unfit parent WHEN THERE ARE LITTERL ABUSTIVE BITTY OWNER THAT THEY DONT TAKE CARE OF AND THE BLACK BITTY MARKET THAT THEY ARENT DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT GOD FUCKING STUIPD SOCI-" Michael was furious You had explained this becasue cop would come to your house often but you knew some abusive Bitty owners that's the cops didnt arrest or do anything about "Yeah...i can't do anything about it no one can do anything the police are just to ignorant and stupid little twats." You explained the bitty had woke up a little while ago the Bitty was missing and the bitty goes by Fell or Red for what he had told you "Them cops are fuckers they ain't gonna ever change..." Fell mumbled You cradled Red in your hands he had been shivering for quiet a while and rolling him up into a little tiny blanket like a burrito was the best and fastest way you could warm him up without him losing heat in your hands. You had some left over bitty clothes from your pervious attempts Michael had finally calmed down enough to make some food for the three of you and it was something simple just some noodles, Alfredo chicken, broccoli bits, carrots, and some chopped up onions and plated the ingredients together for You, Michael, and Red. The three of you started eating dinner that was prepared by Michael, and by the food gods, was it good.

You starts to worry it was around 9:00 a'clock and Fell haven't fallen asleep he was shivering You gave him a heated weighted blanket it was pretty warm by your standards but he was still shivering. You started to think that Feel was starting to dislike his stay at your apartment Michael knew what the problem was but You being the stubborn ass you were wanted to figure out the problem without cause any more damage to the problem then there already is Michael has floated over to you and leaned close to you "he has separation problem you fucking idiot he terrified that he'll get taken by thises drug hobos again moves his little DIY bed to your bed I'll be there in a minute" he mumbled to you and floated back to the kitchen to gather some things You sighed of relief and slowly and carefully picked up Red and his mini DIY bed and walked up the stairs Fell had curled up to your neck his shaking had stop almsot immediately he had some little rubber ducky PJ'S on he tryed to bites you when you try putting them on him at first but then he slowly leaned into the design of thr PJ and realized they weren't to bad to sleep in you opened your bedroom door and had layed Red and his blanket and pillow onto your bed his DIY on your dresser you curled up onto the bed securing Fell by cupping his backside with your hand making sire he wouldn't fall off the bed Michael soon came up to the bedroom with his ha dmade Link sword....-

"Michael put that fucking thing away!"

"Y/n- it to insure that Red feels safe!"

"Your motherfucking Goblin of shit"

"Look at him!"

*Red eyes are sparkling*

"Michael if you put that in the bed I'm going to make you sleep in the closet"

"Don't be harsh darling"

"Red- *pinches his cute chubby cheeks* your so fucking adorble"

*Red growls with cuteness"

With the conversation coming to a close the three of you settle into the bed and fall asleep the only reason that you and Michael share a bed is because well Michael dosent live with you he has his own place but he mostly stays at your place is refuses to place a mattress on the floor or in the gues bedroom that's still needs remodeling.

And that's the end folks sorry the the long wait and the username change and such but I need a new style I'm working on other fandom story's and such that will be coming out if you want more of this story please like and religion for more but I will be intending to do a part 2 thank you everyone who has like the first post of this.

[bluemanedhawk]

hello. I'd phrase this more respectfully, but I have decided to have zero concern for hurting your feelings because I'm convinced you don't have any. I'd like to ask why you continue to actively refuse acknowledgement that nobody in apionet likes you and everyone there thinks you're an obnoxious prick. how come, instead of rationally accepting your ban, you call one of the admins a cunt and repeatedly waste your time evading your ban and spouting your bullshit into there, expecting anyone to acknowledge it? no one there wants to hear your bullshit. why are you unable to accept this? and please consider providing actual fucking answers to these questions instead of dodging them as you usually do, otherwise I have absolutely no reason to believe you aren't a troll.

actually, even better idea: just stop fucking doing all of these things that make people hate you! and stop trying to justify them! because the simple fact is that you're a terrible person, as evidenced by the fact that everyone hates you.

if you want to continue to spout your pretentious nonsense onto the internet, there are a hundred thousand other places in the vast world of the internet to do so, which are not an arbitrary IRC network that hates you. in fact, you seem to already know this, because you have a tumblr page, a website, etc. how hard is it to just use those?

hello.

Hello.

I'd phrase this more respectfully, but I have decided to have zero concern for hurting your feelings because I'm convinced you don't have any.

Well, this ask is certainly off to a roaring start, what with blatant dehumanization in just the second sentence. Mx. Ymous, this is not a good look for you.

Let me ask you: do you think that you would phrase this ask that way if this weren't anonymous? if the people you care about knew that you were sending this ask? I ask this not only in the hopes that you'll reconsider your actions, but also because people have a tendency to overestimate their anonymity; i'll elaborate no more on that matter.

Let me ask you a different question: do you think you would phrase this ask like this if you were sending it to somebody else? I happen to have a pretty strong resistance to the things that you've said in this ask. Not everybody would, and they might react quite differently. I would avoid getting into the habit of treating people like this if i were you.

I'd like to ask why you continue to actively refuse acknowledgement that nobody in apionet likes you and everyone there thinks you're an obnoxious prick.

Don't put words in people's mouths.

I happen to remember that there were people there that i got along with mostly pretty okayly. Unless the administration has decided to perform a purge of all those people, the statement in the indented paragraph nearest upwards from this paragraph this sentence is in is simply factually incorrect.

If it were correct, i would acknowledge it and not really care all that much except inasmuch as it personally affects me—it's not my responsibility to try to control the perceptions of others. The actual actions of the people would be of significantly more interest to me than whatever might be going on inside their heads.

how come, instead of rationally accepting your ban,

There is no rational way to accept the ban because the ban was punitive and the possible consequences of accepting it would outweigh the possible consequences of fighting it. Since it's directly relevant to this determination of rationality, i'll also note for the record that, in addition to being punitive, the ban:

was thrusted into me at a time when i was unaround and unable to defend myself

was thrusted into me without a fair trial

was thrusted into me without much explanation of why it was being performed

was thrusted into me in direct violation of the laws of the land

was thrusted into me without any way to negotiate the terms of lifting the ban

I used to try to convince people away from punitive criminal justice systems by appealing to their morality, deriding such systems as “immoral” and “unethical”. Nowadays, i think that a better way to convince people is simply by pragmatism: there is a mountain of evidence showing that punitive criminal justice is plain and simply not effective at all in reducing crime.

Now i'm wondering what the angle of repose of scientific papers is.

you call one of the admins a cunt

I think that this is a misrepresentation of what happened. I will state my side of the story: in my initial attempts to evade the ban, i determined a method of entrance and, as my first action upon completion of that entrance, i stated in reference to previous failed attempts at evasion “This isn't Mario Party: you won't get a bonus star for being the biggest cunt.”.

Stating that i “called one of the admins a cunt” is technically correct, because i used the term in the singular and it was in description of the action of the administration. Despite that, i would have interpreted the way you described things as implicating that i directly stated at one of the members of the administration something along the line of “Person'sname, you are a cunt.”, which is incorrect.

I really don't want to make assumptions, but i'm going to anyway: i think that there might be a cultural difference at play here, because i really did not consider this to be a notable or interesting part of this incident, yet you seem to consider it important enough to mention. I consider the word ‘cunt’ to be just another insult, along the lines of ‘dick’, ‘shitface’, ‘fucking assbag’, or ‘shitfucked assfaced dickhead’, and i do not really take much offense from insults, even though i might react to them in other ways. I suspect that when i made the statement i did, i was assumpting that these positions would also hold for everybody else, but they ended up not doing so. If this is the case and i ended up hurting people, i apologize and will keep this situation in mind for the future; if this is not the case or i didn't end up hurting people, feel free to completely ignore this paragraph.

and repeatedly waste your time evading your ban and spouting your bullshit into there, expecting anyone to acknowledge it?

It really doesn't take that much time at all. What little time it takes is worth it. It cannot matter to me whether anyone acknowledges it, because it operates as a one-way street for me. I have zero clue what goes on in there whatsoever.

no one there wants to hear your bullshit. why are you unable to accept this?

Again, don't put words into people's mouths.

I put things into the world. If people want to see them, they can. If they don't want to, they needn't. I can accept that.

and please consider providing actual fucking answers to these questions instead of dodging them as you usually do,

I'd be able to do that better if i knew what was meant by ‘dodging’, as it's something i've been accused of in the past in cases where i didn't think it was happening.

otherwise I have absolutely no reason to believe you aren't a troll.

Trolling can never be proven unless there's a direct genuine confession.

actually, even better idea: just stop fucking doing all of these things that make people hate you!

The minds of others are wholly their own; it is not my duty to control them. The actions of others are more important to me, and i will respond to them.

and stop trying to justify them!

There are people making claims that i percieve to be incomplete. Because i think these claims are incomplete and that people might fill in the blanks with the wrong things, i think that it is to my detriment for these claims to be propogated. Therefore, it is rational for me to state what i think people should fill in the blanks with.

because the simple fact is that you're a terrible person, as evidenced by the fact that everyone hates you.

That's not how that works.

if you want to continue to spout your pretentious nonsense onto the internet,

‘Pretentious’? I don't have the best memory of these kinds of things, but i think that that's a first, and i have no idea what the reasoning behind it might be.

there are a hundred thousand other places in the vast world of the internet to do so, which are not an arbitrary IRC network that hates you. in fact, you seem to already know this, because you have a tumblr page, a website, etc. how hard is it to just use those?

They just ain't the same, man! The vibes are all wrong, they're completely different, they just aren't right for what i wanna say!

More seriously, it's because i consider the ban that was issued into me there to be unjust, and what i do operates as a way to undermine what i consider to be an illegitimate authority and fight against what i consider to be an unjust action.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 108: April 2018

The sound of Marius von Raum beginning a song he wasn’t going to be allowed to finish jolted Jon out of a sound sleep, and also told him that Melanie had somehow got hold of his phone. He grabbed for it quickly to stop it ringing before it woke anyone else up and became aware, as he did so, that the nest of blankets was tucked securely around him, but he was otherwise alone. How Martin had got up and disentangled himself from Jon without waking him was beyond him. He must have slept very deeply, which was something of a novelty these days.

He managed to connect the call before the third repetition of the riff, fumbling for his glasses with the other hand. “Hah—hello?”

“Did I wake you?” Melanie sounded slightly distracted. There was something indistinct in the background, and then she amended, actually sounding apologetic, “Sorry, of course I woke you, it’s six in the morning. Are you awake enough to follow directions?”

“Awake enough to follow, asleep enough not to ask questions.” Jon found his glasses and slid them onto his face. “What are my marching orders, General?”

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it,” Melanie said, modulating her voice briefly into a solemn secret agent voice, then dropped into her usual voice. “Actually, fuck that, you don’t get a choice. Meet you at the bookshop. Bring Martin and Daisy. And possibly some elephant tranqs.”

“Oh, God, what happened?”

“Dunno, but Tim called Sasha a little bit ago and she listened for about three minutes and then started looking for the cat carriers, so I’m guessing there are some emotions involved.” Melanie sighed. “Meet you there. Tell Martin not to strain himself.”

“I will. Be careful, Melanie.”

“Nag, nag, nag. See you soon.”

“See you soon,” Jon repeated softly. He ended the call, rubbed his hand over his face briefly, and got to his feet.

Daisy was perched cross-legged on one of the desks, hunched slightly over a cup of tea cradled in her hands. Every so often, she attempted to blow a section of strawberry blonde hair out of her eyes, but like everything else about her, it stubbornly resisted being dislodged. Her gaze raked over him briefly. “Morning.”

“Is it?” Jon said, trying for a joke. From the brief smirk that flickered across Daisy’s mouth, he managed to pull it off. “Have—ah, h-have you seen Martin?”

“Office.” Daisy jerked her head towards the Archivist’s office. “Said if he was going to be awake he might as well get some work done.”

That was…not really something Jon wanted to hear, actually. He swallowed the sudden lump of anxiety and started for the office. He could hear the rise and fall of Martin’s voice and knew he was dictating a statement, which did not make him feel any better.

When he opened the door, Martin was seated behind his desk, a pensive look on his face as he stared at one of the two tape recorders on its surface. The other, closer to his hand, was clearly spinning as he spoke to it. His eyes glittered their intense, luminescent green as he did so.

“—an interesting theory,” he mused. “Not sure if I believe it, but it’s what we have to go on for right now. I just wish I knew for sure who was leaving these for me. End supplement.”

The tape recorder shut itself off with a cheerful click. Martin blinked, and his eyes returned to normal—still bright, but no longer literally glowing. He reached over to pop the tape out and looked up, giving Jon a soft smile. “Hi. Sleep okay?”

“Yes, for a wonder,” Jon said quietly. He was a bit more awake than he really wanted to be, and he fought the urge to walk over and hug his boyfriend. “How long have you been up?”

Martin raised his eyebrows and glanced at the clock. “An hour? Maybe? Dreams ended earlier than usual and I heard Daisy moving around, so I offered to make her tea. She didn’t want company and I didn’t want to wake you up, but I knew I wasn’t getting back to sleep and came in here instead. I thought I’d do a bit of admin before everyone else got in.”

Jon pursed his lips briefly. He knew he should call Martin out on the fact that he’d heard him doing a recording—and the worrying fact that there was no file in sight—but it was early in the morning and they had somewhere to be, and he figured he would wait until they were all together so Gerry and Melanie could help him yell. So he swallowed his instinctive response and said in as neutral a way as he could, “Melanie called. She wants us to meet her and Sasha at the bookshop. She, ah, she said Sasha was gathering up the cats, so…she doesn’t know what Tim was calling about, but there’s probably something bad going on.”

“Or Tim’s got a really weird idea for a party. It’s Tim. Anything is possible,” Martin murmured, standing up from the desk. Jon noticed him palming the tape from one of the recorders, but, perhaps unwisely, he kept his mouth shut. “Is Daisy coming?”

“I—I didn’t ask her, but Melanie said to bring her.”

Martin gave Jon another one of those crooked smiles he loved so much, and it was all Jon could do not to melt and pretend nothing was bothering him ever. “Let’s find out if she’s up for it then.”

The trains began running early, and the sun was already up, so they made good time to Cinnamon Rose Books. Jon kept an eye on Martin for signs of guilt, or that he was hiding a secret, but his face was as innocent and implacable as ever. Jon wanted to believe that wasn’t a facade, that there definitely wasn’t anything else going on, that Martin wasn’t keeping something important from him.

He wasn’t sure he did.

The thing was…the thing was, Jon thought as they got off at the end of the line and started the relatively short trek to the shop, that Martin was Web-Marked, but not Web-aligned, so he didn’t really go for manipulation, not casually like that. He didn’t bait, didn’t gaslight, didn’t pull strings like some kind of goddamned puppet master. But…well, the Eye dealt in secrets as much as knowledge, and it was possible Martin was getting a little extra energy from keeping secrets. A tiny romantic part of Jon told him that, surely, Martin wouldn’t keep painful secrets like that from him.

A tiny cynical voice in the back of his mind reminded him that almost every single person in an abusive relationship believed their loved one wouldn’t do that to them at some point or another.

Martin didn’t bother knocking on the door, just fished out his keys and unlocked the shop door himself, then locked it behind them again and led the way through the shop. Jon could hear voices from upstairs and deduced that someone was having an argument, but he couldn’t tell if they were walking into a lovers’ spat or a lighthearted debate until they reached the kitchen. Gerry was seated at the table, elbows resting on its surface and hands gripping his hair; Tim was gesticulating wildly with a spatula, and Melanie was standing in front of him with an armful of cat and an unimpressed look on her face, Sasha standing at her back.

Sasha glanced over Tim’s shoulder, and a look of relief spread over her face. “Thank God. You talk some sense into them.”

Tim whirled around, his face tight with anger. His expression didn’t change as he strode across the kitchen in two steps, and Jon didn’t have time to even think about what he was going to do before he slammed into Martin with a tight hug. Martin gave a startled oomph and hugged him back. “Uh, hi?”

“Those bastards,” Tim choked out. “You were four.”

“I—oh.” Martin looked over Tim’s head at Gerry. “Flashback?”

Gerry lifted his head from his hands, and Jon jerked back in surprise. He hadn’t seen him so drawn and haggard since…well, since he’d first turned up at Melanie’s door. He looked like he hadn’t slept…or eaten…in a while. When he spoke, though, Jon’s stomach lurched as he realized the truth—Gerry had been crying. “You dreamed about it last night, didn’t you? Being Marked by the Lonely?”

“I don’t…really have dreams of my own these days, Ger,” Martin said, a bit regretfully. “God, I don’t even remember it, it was so long ago. I knew I’d probably met it long before I ever met you, but even back then it was just a-a feeling more than anything. I was four?”

“That’s what you said. Well, what Tim said I said when I was narrating the experience.” Gerry closed his eyes for a minute. “I thought Neenie’s encounter with the Slaughter was bad when I woke up from it, but at least Uncle Roger didn’t try to feed her to the lions.”

“I genuinely don’t know why you’re still surprised at anything Mum ever did to Martin,” Melanie muttered. “Did you ever see the tally marks?”

“Melanie!” Martin went pale.

“Shit. Shit, sorry, I—” Melanie winced and looked away. “My fucking mouth. Sorry.”

“Tally marks?” Jon repeated, dread stealing over him. He looked up at Martin, and suddenly realized that, whatever that meant, Martin wasn’t going to elaborate. He was going to deflect, change the subject, keep his secrets, and—

Martin sighed heavily and let go of Tim, then stepped back and leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Quietly, he said, “On the inside door of the hall closet, at the place Mum and I lived before she and Dad got married. I used to make one every time she locked me in there for…whatever reason. Melanie helped me repaint it before we moved out, because most of the part of the door I could reach had the scratches in the paint.”

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees, and Gerry’s eyes narrowed. “I am going to go find out if I can bring people back from the dead. And then I’m going to kill her again.”

“Help me with Peter Lukas first,” Tim growled. “The Lonely doesn’t get to touch anyone else.”

“I’ll help,” Daisy said immediately.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up.” Martin raised both hands. “You don’t know what he’s capable of. If you can even find him, he’s as likely to…”

“Vaporize you,” Sasha supplied.

“Uh—not exactly,” Martin said slowly. “I don’t think Paul and Nolan are actually dead, they’re just…trapped in the Lonely. Which isn’t noticeably better, but…still. We don’t want to lose you three.”

Jon noticed something in Daisy’s eyes and added, “You won’t be able to find Basira if you’re in there. Not if you don’t go in willingly. Maybe not even if you do.”

“I don’t know if I could find my way in without being put there,” Daisy admitted candidly. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hunt Peter Lukas down and rip his throat out.”

Melanie crossed the kitchen and unceremoniously pushed Wynken into Daisy’s arms. “Sit down.” She bent down, picked up Umberto, and thrust him at Tim, who took him, seemingly on instinct. “You, too. Everyone who’s upset, sit down and grab a cat, and let’s talk this out like fucking adults instead of…people possessed by our worst instincts.”

“What, exactly, are we talking out?” Tim said bitingly, but he did sit down.

Martin glanced at Jon and jerked his head at the kitchen door; Jon pulled it shut. “Want me to light the wards first?”

“Here.” Gerry fished out his lighter and tossed it to Jon. “Lonely, Beholding, Web, End, and for my peace of mind, the Buried. Please,” he added.

It was tacked on as an afterthought, but Jon decided to accept it and began lighting the candles. Martin, meanwhile, made his way over to the stove. “Here, I’ll make breakfast…look, I didn’t realize it was that bad. Not that I really understood Marks and all that until we were a bit older, but I genuinely thought the Halloween incident was what actually Marked me.”

“Apparently not. You were on vacation with your parents and…a woman came and offered to let you play with her daughter on the beach,” Gerry said slowly. “She told you to play hide and seek, and then…never went looking for you, I guess?”

“I…” Martin trailed off, his eyes going vacant. Jon felt more than heard the soft gathering of static. “It was a test. Her mother was trying to get them back into the family’s good graces after her own father was disgraced and sent to live with distant relatives, so she was testing to see if, even at that age, her daughter could be trained to see other people as nothing more than fodder for the Lonely. She was certainly better at it than her cousin, but it wasn’t good enough.” He winced and shook his head hard. “God. I wish that would stop.”

“Getting mugged by knowledge?” Jon said, a bit dryly. He wanted to hug Martin, to comfort him, but…something held him back. Not until he asks. Not until he admits…

“It’s not really getting mugged. It’s more…” Martin sighed. “It’s like—like there’s a door in my mind, and behind it is the whole ocean, pressing against it. Sometimes a few drops force their way past the door and I get a little wet, but it’s nothing like what will happen if I open that door.”

“What happens if you do?” Daisy asked, teasing up a bit of fur on the nape of Wynken’s neck, which the fluffy calico seemed to enjoy immensely.

Martin stood still for a moment, then said, very quietly, “I drown.”

“Martin,” Jon said softly. His heart ached for his boyfriend, but he made himself stay where he was.

Sasha cleared her throat. “When you say ‘it wasn’t good enough’…”

Martin shrugged without looking up. “Well. That particular bit of Knowledge didn’t have any names attached.”

“Ann,” Gerry murmured. “Without an E.”

“I think she made that up, Ger.”

Jon laid the lighter down on the table next to Gerry’s elbow. Gerry palmed it in a way that was uncomfortably close to the way Martin had done with the tape. “Okay, then, back to Tim’s question. What are we talking out, exactly?”

“How about what the fuck is going on?” Melanie suggested.

Jon nodded. “You said the flashbacks tend to…be relevant to what’s happening, or about to happen. And you flashed back to…Martin getting Marked by the Lonely?”

“So something’s about to go down with the Lonely,” Tim completed. “Peter Lukas.”

“Right,” Melanie said, obviously picking up on where Jon was going. “So I say again, what the fuck is he up to?”

Daisy cocked her head slightly. “What do you mean? Why does he have to be up to something?”

“Because he does. He’s not planning a ritual—Gertrude already disrupted the Lonely’s ritual sometime recently, you said, Gerry—so he can’t be using the Institute for that, but either Elias appointed him to be his temporary successor or he moved in on his own.” Melanie grunted as Blynken leaped into her lap and began kneading at it, purring all the while. “Besides, his whole thing is the Lonely, and isolation and all that—why would he be working with people?”

“And why Basira?” Sasha mused. She held up a hand to forestall Daisy’s glare. “Not that there’s anything wrong with her. Just…he made her his personal assistant. She’s working with him closely. Doing what?”

Martin, who was mixing something in a bowl, suddenly paused. Jon felt, instinctively, that he had an idea, and something in his chest twisted as he envisioned the next few minutes. Martin would resume his work, Jon would have to make a decision on whether to call him out on it or let him continue to pretend not to be involved, Melanie would call Jon out on it and he’d have to call Martin out, they’d end up in a fight, Martin would end up storming out to clear his head and probably pounce some poor random passerby and feed off of them, Jon would feel guilty about it for the rest of his life…

While the doomsday scenario played out in a matter of nanoseconds in his head, Martin set bowl and spoon down, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the tape, which he laid on the table in front of them. “Investigating a possible new Fear.”

If Martin had declared his intention to quit the Institute, move to Las Vegas, and become a male stripper, he could not have shocked Jon any more. Not by what he had said. By the fact that he had just…said it. Jon had geared himself up so thoroughly for the fight that he actually hadn’t been prepared for the possibility that it just…wouldn’t happen. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Martin would actually tell them what he’d been up to, that he wouldn’t keep the secrets close to his chest.

“A possible what?” Melanie’s voice rose sharply.

“That can happen?” Sasha said incredulously.

“How?” Tim demanded.

“I thought you were going to keep that a secret,” Jon blurted without thinking.

That fast, Martin’s eyes snapped up to focus on Jon. “What?” he said, looking and sounding honestly confused. After a second, though, his eyes cleared and his face softened. “Jon, no. I just didn’t want to have to explain it more than once.”

“Explain what? Start at the beginning,” Gerry said.

Martin went back to whatever he was making, but he stayed facing the others as he did so. “A couple times lately, I’ve found things on my desk that I know I didn’t put there—statements I didn’t pull, tapes I haven’t seen, that sort of thing. They’ve been…generally helpful in what we’re doing. I just assumed one of you was leaving them there, but I found that tape this morning when I went in to put together the third quarter budget requisition, and since it wasn’t there when I locked it last night, I don’t know where it came from. And…it’s not Gertrude on the tape.”

“Who is it?” Melanie asked.

Daisy inhaled sharply. She reached for the tape, then drew her hand back, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to touch. “Basira.”

Martin nodded. “She was reading a letter from Adelard Dekker—the one who got Gertrude the plastic explosives, who might honestly be the only person she worked with I haven’t met at some point or another. Anyway, Dekker is—or was at the time he wrote the letter—convinced that a new Fear was preparing to emerge. He waxed kind of poetic about it, actually, and he had a whole incident he said was representative of proof of his theory. You can listen to it if you’d like.”

“I’d rather not,” Tim muttered. Melanie nodded emphatically. “How? I mean…fear is fear, right? There aren’t…”

“Tim, people are always inventing new things to be afraid of. Yeah, they usually kind of sort into categories, but…what happens when something comes up, something that enough people are afraid of that it becomes a powerful concern, and it doesn’t slot neatly into one category or another?” Martin exhaled. “Even knowing—”

“The damn things overlap,” Jon and Sasha said in unison.

Martin cracked a small smile. “Yeah. Even with that, if they blend together enough, it might create something wholly new. Dekker’s potential new fear is called the Extinction.”

“Sounds like a mix of the Slaughter and the End,” Melanie mused. “The fear of…”

“Catastrophic loss. Not just the end of everything, but its obliteration.” Martin set the bowl down on the counter and opened the refrigerator. “I think you probably heard the tail end of my recording, Jon, so I’m guessing you know that I’m not convinced, but…”

“But it’s a possibility,” Daisy completed. “And Peter Lukas is convinced of it, and he’s convinced Basira of it.”

“Or he’s at least got her looking into it. I’m serious, Daisy, I’d like you to take a listen when you’re up to it, if you don’t mind—you know her better than I do, you can tell me what you think. But to me, it sounded like she was—I don’t know, humoring him?”

Daisy’s eyes went distant for a moment. “Probably. She was always good at that. She’d agree with what was said, go along with it especially when she was being watched, then just quietly go behind and do what she thought was the right move anyway.”

Jon was honestly only half paying attention. His mind was still stuck on what Martin had said: I think you probably heard the tail end of my recording, Jon. Guilt swirled in his stomach. Martin had known he was there, and really hadn’t been deliberately trying to conceal what he was doing. And yet Jon been so quick to assign the worst possible motives…God, what kind of a boyfriend was he, if he just assumed the man he loved wouldn’t tell him when things were getting bad?

Then again, was he any better? He’d been noticing things about himself for a while, things he didn’t like—not just the weird static in his occasional attempts to compel people, which even Melanie had called him out on, but things like…well, like this. All of a sudden—or maybe not all of a sudden, maybe it had been gradual, like Melanie’s descent into the Slaughter, and he just hadn’t noticed until he made the comparison to past behavior—he’d stopped asking about things that bothered him, or things he wanted to talk about. He waited for…no. No, most of the time he wasn’t just passively waiting for someone else to bring them up, he was deliberately laying the groundwork for someone else to mention it and think it was their idea in the first place…

“So what does Peter Lukas need the Institute for?” Tim asked, from somewhere on the edge of Jon’s existential crisis. “Or Basira? Just to look into if this is actually happening?”

“He’s a wealthy middle-aged white man,” Melanie pointed out. “He doesn’t need anyone to validate his theories, he’s rich enough to pay people to believe them. If he thinks this is happening, or wants to believe it’s happening, he isn’t looking for proof, he’s looking for solutions.”

Martin nodded. “There’s a bit at the end of the tape where he and Basira are talking about…all of that. He says he needs someone who’s got a touch of the Beholding in them in order to really carry out his plan, but he’s vague on what that plan is, and he says he’s still getting some things together.”

“Can we get ahead of him on it?” Sasha asked. “I mean, can you…look into his head or whatever?”

“No,” Jon said sharply, surprise and a sudden bite of fear startling him out of his guilt spiral. Sasha jerked her head back in surprise, and he almost felt bad. Almost.

But Martin was shaking his head as well. “Jon’s right. I can’t risk that, Sash. Even if Peter Lukas wasn’t way more powerful than I am—meaning I don’t think I even could read his mind, not without a lot of effort—if I try to force my way into his head, he’ll either kill me or trigger…whatever his plan is before we have a hope of knowing if it’s even something we need to stop, let alone actually stopping it. We’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

“Fun,” Tim deadpanned.

“Well, it’s that or sit around passively and wait for something to happen. Can someone hand me the cinnamon?” Martin swiped a paper towel through the butter and began rubbing at what looked to the casual glance like two frying pans welded together.

Melanie looked up, suddenly distracted from the conversation. “Are you making pancakes?”

“Waffles.” Martin’s voice held an implied duh.

“We only do those on…” Gerry’s voice trailed off. “Fuck. Is today the eighteenth?”

“Did you forget your own birthday?”

“Shut up. I have a lot going on.”

Jon shook himself out of his stupor, scooted around the table, reached into the spice rack, and pulled down the cinnamon. As he handed it to Martin, he leaned in close and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Martin smiled and winked at him, then added a dash to the batter, ladled some into the waffle iron, and closed it. Once it was set on the burner, he slipped an arm around Jon and pulled him close. “You don’t need to be,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry I worried you. I trust you, Jon. You know that, right?”

“I do.” Jon snuggled against Martin and hugged him tightly, more relieved than he wanted to admit out loud.

He also still felt a twinge of guilt. You don’t need to be. Martin wasn’t reading anyone’s minds if he could help it, so he didn’t know anything other than what Jon was outright telling him, or what was obvious from his body language. He didn’t know about Jon’s worries about himself. He only knew that Jon had been worried about him.

And Jon knew he wasn’t going to bring it up. Not here. Not now. Not with the others right there. He told himself he would, later, when it was just the two of them.

But what if he didn’t?

“So what’s the plan today?” Tim asked. “Breakfast, mass trip to the Institute, see what we can pull from the shelves that might relate to this Extinction thing?”

Martin hesitated, then shook his head. “No. No, I think…you know what, screw it. Let’s take the day away from the Institute. Let’s just…if we’re going to plot against Peter Lukas, I’d rather not do it directly under his nose, even if he can’t watch us the way Elias could.”

“Is Elias still watching us from prison?” Sasha wondered. “I know he can’t see through the wards, but is he keeping an eye on us otherwise?”

“Probably. I think he’s exactly where he wants to be,” Martin said slowly. “I just don’t know why. And right now, I don’t care enough to try and figure it out, by supernatural means or otherwise. As long as he stays in prison, that’s good enough for me.”

“You’re the Archivist. If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me.” Jon leaned a little closer to Martin’s side. He’d been denying himself this contact all morning, to punish…one of them, God only knew which, maybe both. He should probably step away, because he didn’t deserve this closeness, but damn it, he needed it right now. From the way Martin kept one arm around him and worked the waffle iron with the other, he felt the same.

“Well, then.” Gerry sounded marginally more like himself. “Let’s have breakfast and then head out to Regent’s Park. If nothing else, we need to get our annual photo—and this year, I think I’d like to include the lot of you in the picture as well. Or at least in a picture. We’re all family now, and it’s not really my birthday without a new family photo.”

“And then what?” Sasha wondered.

Martin turned out the first waffle. “And then we improvise.”

“I hate this plan,” Melanie declared. “Let’s do it.”

Jon glanced down at the large orange cat that had ambled out of nowhere and butted his shins, but made no move to let go of Martin, even to pet Nod. “I hope someone has an idea of what to do with the cats while we do this.”

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Investigation

A JSE Fanfic

Septics Inverted AU

First IRIS Chapter | Previous

(Jackie and Frederick talk more about their investigation into IRIS. At the same time, in a different city, Anti returns to meet up with Jack again. And then, I’ll be honest: it ends with a cliffhanger for the next part. I want to keep these chapters short for once, okay?! XD)

Three days passed, and Jackie found almost no online information about IRIS. Something that was both frustrating and baffling. IRIS was supposed to be this big American company. There should be millions of people talking about it, journalists doing pieces on their practices and everyday citizens praising or complaining about their products. Yet there was almost nothing. No media coverage, save for a few stray articles on tech websites, and barely anyone mentioning it even in passing.

Most information was fairly neutral. People liked their products, but clearly not enough to rave about them. Any IRIS-related photos were of their buildings taken from a distance by people passing by. As far as he could tell, no one took pictures of the interior. Which was just... so hard to believe. If Jackie knew anything about people, it’s that someone would eventually be brave or stupid enough to try taking photos of restricted areas.

“It’s just not possible that there’d be so little about a corporation like this,” Jackie said to Frederick one evening over dinner. “If it was, like, a little start-up of some kind, it would be expected. But it’s not. It’s been around for ages.”

“If we’re to believe their website,” Frederick pointed out.

“Well, we don’t really have a choice but to believe their website. It’s one of three good sources we have. And the other two are Wikipedia and Twitter. Not exactly reliable.”

“Actually, Wikipedia is more reliable than most people think.” Frederick drummed his fingers on the table. His prosthetic fingers, which made a satisfying tapping sound on the wood. “They take vetting and verifying their sources quite seriously. Sure, they’re not perfect. But if you want another source, they provide links to where all their information came from.”

“Really? Huh.” Jackie paused, unsure what to say. He looked down at the ramen he was eating, twirling the noodles around his fork.

“I think we should buy one of their products,” Frederick said.

“What?!” Jackie’s head snapped up.

“Well, to be more exact, Briony brought up the idea at our last meeting, and I agreed,” Frederick explained.

“Who?”

“She’s also part of the investigation team Yvonne and I got assigned to. There’s also Nick, Harvey, Alena—”

“Okay, I get it,” Jackie cut him off. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? The whole reason for the investigation is that IRIS might be using dark magic. Do we want that in our house?”

“We’re not going to keep it in our house. The investigation has set up a little meeting building on the edge of town. We buy something, and put it in there.”

“What if IRIS can track their things?” Jackie asked. “They could figure out that we’re onto them.”

“The house has some of the best protection magic can set up,” Frederick said. “All sorts of wards. Even if they track their products, and even if that tracker can penetrate the warding, they couldn’t get in.”

Jackie hesitated. “But we don’t know anything about them. We don’t know their capabilities.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Frederick’s tone was genuine, not snarky like one might expect.

“We could find where their base of operations is,” Jackie suggested. “Wait. Does your team already know that?”

“Yeah, they’ve set a couple up. The nearest one is about an hour north of here.”

“Okay, then we stakeout their facility,” Jackie continued. “See if we can find anything out. Maybe, if we can figure out how to get in, there’ll be—”

“Well.” Frederick looked grim. “They’re not... their building isn’t exactly a normal office building.”

Jackie paused. “Explain?”

“It’s out in the middle of nowhere with high walls and barely any windows. Used to be an old prison that they’ve since converted. It looks like they’ve constructed two newer buildings next to it that are just as secure, and somehow managed to expand the wall around them.”

Jackie frowned. “Why would they take over an old prison building?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Frederick wondered.

“Okay. But you said they have multiple bases, right?” Jackie pressed. “If the nearest one is secure, then we can go to the next one.”

“...alright, I guess this is on me for not filling you in on everything.” Frederick reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He pushed aside his bowl of ramen and leaned across the table to show Jackie some pictures he opened up. “They have three facilities: north, west, and east. All of them were based off old buildings known for their security. Prisons to the north and east, and a disused military base to the west. Somehow, even though they haven’t been in the area that long, they’ve all expanded on the original design and made them even harder to get into. What’s more, it took us a while to even realize they were there. Somehow, there’s some mental barrier around each facility that convinces people there’s nothing there. ”

Jackie swiped through the pictures on Frederick’s phone. All of them taken from a distance, just like the ones he’d seen online. And the buildings didn’t look too different from those online photos, either. They were white and shining metal, with the eye-shaped IRIS logo plastered on one side. But the pictures online didn’t have the high walls these ones did. “Well. Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“You guys have magic, though?” Jackie insisted. “You could get in if you wanted!”

“Maybe,” Frederick said slowly. “But we’re not sure. Nobody wants to get too close to the strange energy the buildings are giving off. So, that’s why Briony suggested we get one of their products to examine it. Second best thing to actually going inside.”

Jackie leaned back in his chair. While it was frustrating that the literal magicians refused to use their magic to get into IRIS, he did understand where they were coming from. “Alright, fine, we won’t break in yet,” he said. “How did you get these pictures if you don’t want to get close?”

“Yvonne asked Heather to do it,” Frederick said. “Less suspicious for a journalist to be stalking around than a normal-looking person.”

“And she was okay with that?”

“She was excited to,” Frederick chuckled.

“Heh.” Jackie gave a little smile. “Yeah, I can see that. But so much driving. You said the nearest one was an hour away.”

“The farthest is only two hours.”

“Still.” Jackie paused. “Where are they, anyway? Exactly, I mean.”

Frederick narrowed his eyes. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing!” Jackie raised his hands defensively. “I just want to know.”

Frederick hesitated, then sighed. “If you do anything stupid I’m divorcing you,” he muttered, swiping through photos on his phone.

“We’re not married!”

“Metaphorically. The spirit of divorce will enter my body. Here.” Frederick showed Jackie the picture he’d found.

It was a screenshot of an online street map of the county. Someone had edited in three red Xs where the IRIS facilities were. Jackie leaned forward, scanning the map. Then he frowned.

“Notice something?” Frederick asked.

“These three locations form a triangle. Do you notice what city is in the middle of that triangle?” Jackie tapped the center of the photo. “Mirygale.”

“Huh.” Frederick took his phone back and stared at the map. “Your old haunt.”

“Might be worth checking it out,” Jackie muttered.

“Might be.” Frederick turned off his phone. “In the meantime, we’ll be ordering one of their products.”

“Alright, fine.” Jackie shrugged. “Just don’t expect me to pay for it.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Jack’s phone was ringing.

It was doing that a lot the past few days. Always a different number, none of them familiar. He wanted to believe that it was just normal spam calls... but they’d started not long after that IRIS group had visited him and scanned his apartment.

He waited for the ringing to stop, staring at the phone while it vibrated on the coffee table. Sam flew over and landed next to the phone, staring as well. Then it stopped. And Jack let out a sigh as a knot of anxiety unraveled in his chest. “What do you think?” he asked Sam.

Sam thought that he should never pick up phone calls ever again.

“I can’t do that. Maybe I should change my number?”

Sam said they would probably be able to figure out he did that. They would just keep calling.

“Yeah. I guess.” Jack rubbed his eyes. “I shouldn’t have let them in. I gave them an inch and they’re taking a mile.”

The energy in the air sharpened. The hair on the back of Jack’s neck stood up, and he looked up.

Anti glitched into the middle of the living room. He stumbled a bit, then glitched again, this time appearing on the sofa, half-lying down, half-leaning against the arm rest. “Hey.”

“Very casual about leaving for three days, huh?” Jack said, trying not to sound too bitter. Anti had left shortly after the first IRIS visit, popping back in sporadically for two days before completely disappearing.

“Sorry.” Anti wouldn’t make eye contact. “I didn’t realize how much time was passing.”

Jack sighed. “Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” Anti glanced over at him. “What... have you been doing?”

“Reading.” Jack held up the book he was holding. He’d been sitting in the armchair for a while, completely engrossed in the story. “It’s been a while since I’ve read anything. I figured it would probably be good to have more hobbies, ones that aren’t based on screens.”

Anti raised an eyebrow. “Should I be offended?”

“Haha. You’re not just screen-based, either.” Jack slid a bookmark in between the pages. “It’s really good, though. It’s about a man who starts hearing disembodied voices, and that leads to this whole conspiracy about his best friend and twin sibling both disappearing, and it turns out there’s some weird scifi shit going on. The twin’s a superhero and the friend’s a scientist and they both get kidnapped by two different groups. Some of the characters actually remind me of, uh, people we both know.”

“...huh.” Anti frowned, then shook his head.

“Well, anyway.” Jack put the book down next to his phone. While his hand was there, Sam hopped onto his arm and slithered up to his shoulder, and then his head. “Oh! You’re getting a little big for that.” Jack laughed. It soon faded. “Anti. Did you manage to hack into this IRIS thing?”

Anti grimaced. “Yes. Eventually.”

“It really took you five days to do that?”

“No, it took three days. See, the thing is, every time I left to come back here, their firewalls would reset. I told you I’d be gone for a while the last time I saw you.”

“You didn’t mean days,” Jack muttered. “I was... I was worried.” Sam tapped the side of his head with their nerve-tail. “Alright, fine, I was a bit upset, too.”

“I really am sorry,” Anti said quietly.

“It’s fine now. Really,” Jack reassured him. “Just... tell me about IRIS. What do they want?”

Anti sat up straight. “They want to find weird things and take them away. That hasn’t changed.”

“But you must’ve found more once you got into their network,” Jack insisted.

“I didn’t look at too much. I was busy testing to make sure the hole I put in their firewall stayed there after I left the system.” Anti paused. “Once I... realized how much time had passed, I wanted to check on you. They haven’t been bothering you more, have they?”

“Just more phone calls,” Jack said. “It has to be them. Even if the number is different every time.”

Anti nodded. “Yeah. It’s not too hard to get a bunch of different numbers.”

“So... what did you look at?” Jack asked. “Before you came back.”

Anti sighed. “They’re after you. But not because of you. They... they’re after me. They know we’re connected.”

Jack stared at him. “Anti. How do you know IRIS?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We have time. Right, Sam?” Jack reached up to touch them. Sam jumped down, landing in his lap. They agreed with him.

Anti paused. Then slumped a bit, relenting. “Alright. I’ll tell you about me and IRIS.”

[camaro-and-smokes]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Chapter 10: Smile, though your heart is aching

Rating: EXPLICIT Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Stranger Things. Relationship: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Characters: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham. Tags in general for the whole fic: Fluff & gay sex. This chapter: Fluff & angst. See all tags on AO3.

Links to other chapters on tumblr on Chapter 1 post >>

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Summary: Life after the outing isn't all that rosy.

::::::::::

There was a buzz around Billy and Steve on gossip websites and social media even after a few weeks since their outing. The women who’d been eager to try their luck with Steve were mortified to find out that it was a man who Steve had chosen. Billy was scrutinized from head to toe, but at least no one said he was ugly. They simply couldn’t. The worst on social media died down after those weeks, and to their relief, all the attention seemed to remain mostly online.

To get away from it all they went to see Steve’s mother. She was still living in Steve’s childhood home in Hawkins.

They hit the highway and Steve set the cruise control of the Merc onto 70. “So, what did you tell her about me after having mind blowing sex with me for the first time just hours before?” Billy asked teasingly. Steve glanced at Billy with a smirk. “Yeah, I immediately told her how fuckable my new boyfriend was,” he replied sarcastically. Then his tone softened. “I think she knew that already when I said that you’d be the last one I’ll ever bring home to meet her.” Billy was silent for a while. Then he smiled and let out a laugh. “You keep saying that I’m last this and last that. It sounds like you’re going to murder me and to date no one ever again after that.” Steve laughed and put his hand on Billy’s thigh. “You’re the last one in the sense that I won’t ever need anyone else but you.” “You don’t know that. Not yet.” Steve squeezed Billy’s thigh gently. “I know enough.”

Billy smiled and took Steve’s hand in his, interlacing their fingers. “So, what did you tell her?” “That I had found someone I wanted her to meet. She asked who the lovely lady was, and I told her you weren’t she. She was silent for a quite a while after that. But then she said that she remembered me having that one friend who was around a lot and asked if it was like that. I said that it was. Then she just said that she couldn’t wait to meet you.” Billy was quiet for a while. “You know, you’re the first who takes me to meet his parents,” he said, squeezing Steve's hand lightly. “Really?” Steve asked surprised. Billy nodded. “Yeah. I haven’t had that many serious relationships, and they never lasted long enough, anyway. Some of them met Eddie, though. He’s the closest I have to a brother. But even those were more of them wanting to meet Eddie, the rock star, not my best friend. Max lives in New York, too far for me to take anyone to meet her unless I’m serious enough.” He paused. “I’d like you to meet her.” Steve smiled. “I would love to meet her. And Eddie, your best friend.” Billy kissed Steve's hand. “When we go back home...I could ask him to come over at your place with Chrissy.” “You got yourself a deal, gorgeous.”

Finally they drove to the silent suburb of Hawkins where Steve's mom still lived in Steve's childhood home, and Steve pulled the Merc over onto a driveway of a large house. “Wow. Living it large since childhood, huh? I bet you had a pool, too.” “Yup. But it’s funny how everything seems smaller when you’ve lived away for a while. Even houses this big.” They got out of the car, and Steve walked around the hood under which the engine was clicking in the crisp autumn air after the long drive. He took Billy’s hand. “Come. Mom said she made us something to eat.”

When they walked in, a striking looking middle-aged woman with long, chocolate brown hair like Steve’s came to meet them while wiping her hands on a towel. “Steve, honey!” she said, her arms open, and grabbed her son into a tight embrace. “It’s so good to see you!” “Mom, this is Billy.” She turned to Billy and smiled. “Hi, I’m Margaret,” she said and offered her hand to him. “I’d hug you, but I don’t know if you’d like that.” Billy smiled and opened his arms. “I don’t mind hugging.” “Oh, that’s good,” she said, and hugged him. “I’m a big hugger, so you better get used to it.” After she let go, she took a step back and measured Billy from head to toe. ”You got yourself a real catch, Steve,” she said smiling, making Billy blush. “Teasing aside, I hope you’re hungry. I made chicken casserole. You go ahead to the dining room, I’ll bring the food in.” She vanished into the kitchen leaving Steve and Billy to take their overcoats off.

“Are you ok?” Steve asked Billy as they sat down by the table in the dining room. “Yeah, I’m good. She seems nice.” “She’s gotten better since dad died because now she’s home alone a lot. She used to travel a lot with dad, to keep his eyes from wandering.” “Oh.” “Yeah. They weren’t home that much when I grew up.” Margaret soon came in with the casserole pan and set it on the table. “Okay. Dig in, boys,” she said as she sat by the table across from Steve and Billy. “So, Billy, Steve tells me you’re a writer.” “Yes, I do copywriting and PR and write novels.” “That sounds interesting. Are the books something I might’ve read?” Billy smiled. “Uh, well, maybe. I write...um, romance.” “That’s not bad. Ugly world needs that stuff. People need to get something nice to distract their minds with.” “I’m glad you see it that way. Some people treat it as garbage.” “You get paid for it well, don’t you?” “I do.” “It can't be all garbage then, or many people like garbage. I don’t think it’s the latter.”

After they had eaten Margaret brought coffee and desert to the table. “So, Billy, because Steve’s father isn’t here, I think I need to ask this. What are your plans regarding my son?” “Mom!” Steve laughed incredulous. “Billy, you don’t have to answer that.” Billy looked at her, surprised. “Um...Well, I hope we...” He was lost for words and looked at Steve for help. “Mom,” Steve said, “we’re together, and if it’s up to me, for the rest of our time.” Then his expression turned serious, and he clenched his teeth. “He’s not a gold digger, if that’s what you’re implying.” Margaret looked at Steve. “I’m allowed to be concerned about things like that. You two are moving forward awfully quick.” “It’s my life, my relationship. It’s not yours to decide.” “I understand you’re concerned,” Billy intervened. “I assure you, I have plenty even without Steve’s assets,” he said and put his hand over Steve’s hand that was on the table clenched into a fist, making it loosen a little. “I’m not with him because of what he has. He is the reason I am with him. Even if he had nothing, I’d still be here.” Margaret nodded. “I’m sorry. I just had to ask. Steve...” she sighed. “He’s brought in people who haven’t always been with him for the right reasons. But you seem different. Though I should’ve known you’re special the moment he drove to the driveway. He hasn't brought anyone in with that car. That's special.” ”Yeah, I'm apparently the only date who's even been in that car even once, so...“ Billy shrugged smiling.

They spent a whole week in Hawkins because no one really paid any attention to them there. Sure, some older folks recognized Steve, but because most of his friends had moved away and only their parents had been left behind, they were left alone most of the time. Which was welcomed.

When they returned home, everything was already getting back to somewhat normal, and Billy was finally allowed at least some peace when he left the penthouse or his own apartment. But of course his past slithered out from under the rock it had been hiding under...

He was sitting on the floor of the penthouse, leaning on the glass wall in the living room, typing on his laptop. He was working on a new novel, inspired by his and Steve’s visit to Italy. He had realized that his current life was a magnificent, endless source for romantic stories, and he already had three more books planned. In his mind, he thanked his agent, who had suggested already at the very start of his writing career that he should write with an alias. It would’ve been impossible to write more romance novels with his own name now.

Getting used to the lavish open spaces of the penthouse still took him effort, even though he now spent most of his time there. He didn’t like feeling like he was in an aquarium with the glass walls, but when he was writing, he didn’t like to keep the windows tinted either. Chicago was beautiful from up there, and knowing that probably no one could look back and see him anyway made him feel more at ease.

He looked at his phone that had been set on silent. There was one message.

“Please call me back when you see this. Need to talk.”

“Hey, baby, what’s up?” Billy said when Steve picked up. Steve didn’t spend time on pleasantries. “Do you know this guy, Neil Hargrove?” Billy had been expecting to hear that name one day from Steve on a call like this, but he had hoped that the call would've never come. “What about him?” “I suppose he’s your old man?” Billy closed his eyes, and his jaw clenched involuntarily. He sighed. “Yeah. That’s him.” “He has shared his story of your beating him with the yellow press. He has photos of the injuries, too, nasty ones. How long ago was this?” Billy took another deep breath. “When I was eighteen.” “So it was...fifteen years ago?” “Yes.” “Ok, good. He doesn’t have a case, just so that you know. Especially because he doesn’t have first-hand witnesses, and he didn't report the incident to the police. He has just the photos of the injuries and tons of accusations. Anyone could’ve caused those injuries on him, really.” Steve paused. “You really did a number on him.” Billy said nothing. “I mean...” Steve started, but paused. “If that’s just a taster of what he did to you over the years, baby...I’m so sorry you had to grow up with that. You’re the one who should sue him.”

Billy leaned his head against the window and looked up at the ceiling. “Is he suing me?” “No. The story is headliner for a few gossip sites now and a few printed papers that come out tomorrow, plus a few in few days. They’re trying to tear you apart, but everyone with half a wit sees that there’s another side to the story. He’s not saving any spiteful words though, but they’re just that - words.” “To be honest, it surprised me it took this long for him to bring it up. But I kinda knew it would happen right about now.” “Do you want to address it somehow?” Billy sighed. “I don’t want to think about it at all if I can manage it. Let’s...do nothing. Please?” “Sure. We let the story take its course, and I'll make sure anyone won't contact you about it. It’ll probably die down soon anyway when we don’t react to it.” Billy was silent, and Steve waited patiently on the other end. When Billy said nothing even after a good while, Steve realized the obvious painfulness of the subject in Billy's silence. “I’ll come home sooner today and get some takeaway. Let’s watch a film or something. How’s that sound, gorgeous?” Billy smiled weakly. “I'd like that, a lot.”

Later, Billy sat on the floor leaning to the back of one of the massive couches, wrapped in a blanket, and watching raindrops hit the transparent wall. He felt empty, as if everything he'd made of himself, created for himself, was erased by Neil's accusations of his son being 'an ungrateful, violent bastard'. Especially when he was given a platform to shout out his words into the world. It made the words sound real, even though Billy knew they were nothing but lies, cooked up by a sick motherfucker who no one would feel sorry for if they knew the truth.

He shouldn’t have read the articles, but he couldn't leave them be. His version of the events differed vastly from Neil's. Years of child neglect and psychological and physical violence shined with their absence from the articles. As if he just had snapped one day out of the blue and basically left Neil to die while running away like a coward.

He had done nothing to Neil other than what Neil had done to him. As he had spat on Neil's bloodied face when he'd been done and had walked out of the door, he had known Neil would unfortunately live through his injuries. Just like he had.

He touched a long scar on his left arm. After one particularly bad beating from Neil, the bones of the arm had healed a bit wrong because Neil had never taken him to the ER. After the fracture had healed the arm had worked normally, but hard physical exercise made the entire arm feel like his heart was pounding in it for hours afterwards.

He'd gotten the arm operated five years ago when he'd finally had enough money thanks to the first royalties from his books. When he had done the first proper exercise with the newly operated arm and only experienced normal slight fatigue from having exercised afterwards, he had cried both for anger for all the years of pain he'd been forced to endure and for happiness that the pain was finally gone.

He watched the droplets of rain slowly trickle down the pane, others faster, others slower, all pooling down on the ledge. When there were enough of them, they fell over the ledge to the drain, and new droplets gathered in their place.

Steve walked out of the elevator with the bag of Chinese he'd picked up on his way back home. He walked to the living room and saw Billy's reflection in the window. He set the bag down on the coffee table and sat down on the floor next to Billy. "Come here, gorgeous," he said, stretching his arm over Billy's shoulders. "How are you doing?" Tears Billy hadn't even known he'd been holding back pooled into his eyes suddenly and fell on his cheeks with ugly sobs. Steve pulled Billy into his lap and hugged him tightly. “Baby, he doesn't deserve your tears. He's talking about things that are in the past. That past is a part of you, but it's not all of you. You are here, in the now, as beautiful, smart, funny, caring, talented... And you're here with me. Don't let him get under your skin.” Steve hoped he could have done more, to make the story vanish, or Neil, but there was nothing to be done. What he could do was to be there for Billy and hold him as long as he would need to be held, for forever, if that's what it took, and he'd do it gladly.

When Billy's sobs finally eased, he leaned back up, and wiped the tears and the snot from his nose to his sleeves, and looked out again. The rain hadn't stopped, but the clouds had turned a lighter shade of gray, and there was a sliver of gold in between them close to the horizon. He met Steve's gaze in the window and turned to look at him. Steve set his palm on Billy's cheek, and stroke it gently with his thumb, making Billy smile a weak smile and lean on the palm. Steve leaned in to kiss Billy gently, then pulled Billy back into a sideways hug. Billy leaned his head on Steve's shoulder. "I did an hour and a half full set on the gym and I still couldn't get him out of my mind." He took a deep breath. "I hadn't thought of him even for a minute in years. All this time, and he still gets inside my head like no one else." Steve leaned his head on Billy's. "The story will go away. A week, two, tops. Soon new shiny things come up that interest readers more. And you don't have to leave the penthouse unless you want to. You have everything here." “I guess.” “The first time is always the hardest. Going through the grinder that's yellow press. It gets easier,” Steve said and hugged Billy tightly. Billy said nothing, so they sat in silence and watched the rain pelleting the windows.

After a while, Steve spoke. “If it would make you feel better, I can try to eat my rice with chopsticks this time.” The remark made Billy chuckle. “There was more rice everywhere else than in your mouth last time. Let's get you a fork.” “Nope, no need! I watched a YouTube video and now I know how to do it,” Steve said proudly. “Oh wow! Ok, Mr. Expert, show me your skills!” They got up and sat on the couch to eat the food.

Steve indeed knew now how to eat with chopsticks and smiled triumphantly as he fed Billy one of the spring rolls with them.

[dionadair]

Tero

This story was written in the spring of 2022 for my Honors Colloquium course. Each student was tasked with creating a work of art in any medium they chose. I obviously selected the written word, and concocted a short story around the premise of a dystopian society exiled to the moon by the rest of humanity.

History class was worse than just a bundle of lies: it was incredibly boring as well. The same old story, repackaged for a different time period, repeated a thousand times. Aŭroro held back a yawn and shook herself, trying to pay attention to Mrs. Disvastigi as she asked the class a series of questions.

“Who can tell me what the first country to attempt True Unity was?”

Jakobo raised his hand. “The United States of America. They created a republic based on the ideals of equality and assimilation, forming a single nation untethered to any dispute or culture.”

“Very good, Jakobo. Now, can anyone tell me how they failed?”

Mikaelo spoke up. “Like the other nation-states, they became nativist, coveting their history and proclaimed culture, and went to war with each other and the Order of Unity, resulting in the Order’s evacuation and the destruction that lasts to this day.”

“Correct, Mikaelo. And now, we wait. For the nations of Tero to destroy themselves, or, hopefully, welcome us and our glorious ideals back.” Mrs. Disvastigi smiled so sincerely at her own words that Aŭroro thought she might actually be sick. Mercifully, the ding that announced the end of class sounded, and she stood, eager to get back to her quarters.

Aŭroro made her way to a transpod and entered her room coordinates, then slumped into a seat as the device sped off between the craters of the moon. With nothing else to do, she looked out over the landscape she’d be born into. Luno had been amazing to her when she was young, but after passing over the barren gray rock thousands of times, it had gotten old. 

Aŭroro looked up just then and smiled. Tero, on the other hand, never got old. Its vibrant colors of blue, green, and white were a welcome diversion from her bleak reality. Even the tan and beige of the Sahara was more interesting than the forsaken appearance of Luno. Narrowing her eyes, Aŭroro tried to spot as many countries as she could. Africa was facing Luno, and she immediately spotted Egypt, Somalia, Ethiopia, and Madagascar. After thinking for a moment, Aŭroro remembered South Africa. It was appreciated, if not especially liked, by the Order of Unity. They were all about unification of different groups, only they preferred to think of them as not different at all.

Aŭroro knew the truth.

Just then, her transpod stopped at her habitation deck. Getting out, she walked over to her chambers, put in the code, and stepped inside. The room was warm, heated against the cold of space. It was framed by comfortable beds and seats, and had a fully-stocked kitchenette. That was about all it had going for it, however, as, much like the rest of Luno, it was boring and utilitarian. There was not a hint of architectural inspiration in the smooth metal walls, no aspect of distinction in the photographs of stone tools hundreds of thousands of years old. Nothing that could be linked to a single nation, people, or history, in case those living in the room might start to admire or identify with a single part of humanity. What a load of crap.

Aŭroro could hear water running from the bathroom. Kuraĝo must be showering.

Tired from a long day of pointless education, Aŭroro flopped onto her bed and took out her holopad. Double-checking that the VPN was still working, she opened up three tabs. One was LingoLearn, so she could practice her English. The second was Gather, a Teroan social media website. The last one was Media+, a massive database of videos, movies, and television. 

After polishing her grammar and pronunciation (why was English such a chaotic language?), she checked in on her friends in Scotland, Kurdistan, China, and numerous other regions. She assured them she was still alright, and promised she was working on getting off Luno. Then, she flipped through a few history channels on Media+ before deciding to watch classical animation instead. Maybe something from the 2020s. After all, good entertainment was almost impossible to access from Luno.

Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Kuraĝo stepped out. Aŭroro closed her tabs and looked up, raising her eyebrows in admiration.

Kuraĝo was in the Athletics Track, and she had the muscles to prove it. They casually flexed as she dried off her hair, still a little moist from the shower. Aŭroro gave a small wave to her roommate. The other girl smiled back.

“Hey Aŭroro. How goes the History Track?”

Aŭroro groaned and leaned back. “So. Boring.”

“Bad day again? You really only have yourself to blame for trying to investigate a field rife with human division, nations, and warfare. It’s going to have some very heavy overtones.”

“I know, but come on, even geography is terrible. It’s all about the tragedy of Tero that mountains and rivers have divided us, when we could have been living on flat, open plains where we would all naturally come together as one.” Aŭroro snorted derisively. “How about you? Athletics treating you well?”

Kuraĝo smirked. “You bet. You should have seen me in the wrestling ring today. Not to brag, but I was pretty amazing.”

She sat down next to Aŭroro, who was suddenly very aware of the small gap between them. “Yeah, I bet you were. Nobody stands a chance against all… this.” She gestured awkwardly to Kuraĝo’s well-muscled physique.

They sat in silence for a moment while Kuraĝo tried to think of something to respond with. Communication had never been her forte.

At that moment, a banging sounded at the door. Both girls jumped as a voice called out.

“Aŭroro Stelo, this is the Milico! You are under arrest for violating isolation, corresponding with nationalists, and attempting to foster misinformation within the Colony of Luna! You have sixty seconds to open this door, after which we will enter by force, and you will be charged with resisting arrest!”

Kuraĝo looked at her friend in shock. “What are they talking about?!” she asked.

Aŭroro grabbed Kuraĝo by the shoulder. “Look, what they’re saying about me, it’s partially true. But only because they’ve been feeding us lies since childhood.”

“Aŭroro, I don’t understand.”

“Fifty seconds!”

Aŭroro lifted up her pillow, grabbed something, and put it in Kuraĝo’s hand. It was a data chip. “Take this to the launch bay. It carries everything you need to know, plus launch codes and coordinates to a landing spot on Tero. I wish I had time to explain, but--”

“Forty seconds!”

“Look, all I’m asking is that you trust me. Please, Kuraĝo. If you want answers, the only way to get them is this chip. Tero isn’t how we’ve been told it is.”

Kuraĝo hesitated.

“Thirty seconds!”

“Please, Kuraĝo!”

Kuraĝo took a breath. “Alright. I’ll do it. For you.”

Aŭroro breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Now, grab me and carry me out so they don’t suspect you.”

Kuraĝo nodded, hid the chip in her shirt, and moved to take hold of her friend.

“Twenty seconds!”

Aŭroro hesitated, then leaned in quickly to hug Kuraĝo. “Stay safe.”

“I will,” Kuraĝo assured her, then grabbed Aŭroro and carried her to the door.

“Ten sec--”

She opened the door. Half a dozen milicanoj stood outside, stun batons at the ready.

“Here,” Kuraĝo said. “You don’t need to add the extra charge.”

One of the officers raised an eyebrow, but shrugged.

She hesitated. “Please, sir, don’t hurt her. Whatever she’s done, I’m sure it’s just a mistake.”

“Don’t worry”, the senior officer replied. “She’ll be just fine.” He turned to the others. “Take her away.”

As the other milicanoj marched Aŭroro off, the senior officer turned back to Kuraĝo.

“What happened in there?” he asked. “Why did it take so long?”

Kuraĝo took a breath, steadying herself. “She tried to convince me to help her. I almost did. After that, she tried to fight me, but I managed to get her to stop.”

The officer nodded. “I see. And are you alright? I know this must have been shocking for you.”

More than he knew. “I… don’t know. I think I need to sit down for a while.”

He nodded again. “Understandable. Before I go, did you have any idea about what she was doing?”

Kuraĝo shook her head. “None at all. I’m honestly in shock at it all.” That much was true.

“Alright. Get some rest.”

Kuraĝo turned around and closed the door behind her. She walked numbly over to her bed and sat down heavily. After a moment, she took out the chip and stared at it. Part of her wanted to break it, to smash it into bits and just forget about it all. Another part, the part raised to be loyal to the colony, told her to turn it in as evidence. But she couldn’t do that to Aŭroro. If this chip had been that important to her, then Kuraĝo owed it to Aŭroro to look at whatever was on it.

Steeling herself, Kuraĝo opened up her holopad, then hesitated. If the Milico had found out whatever Aŭroro had been doing, it probably wouldn’t take them long to do the same to her. Better to make a plan.

Thinking hard, Kuraĝo resolved to head down to Compartment A3, one of her favorite hiding places from childhood. It was an old storage closet, and one rarely used. Better yet, it was practically next door to the launch bay. If she needed to make a quick escape, that would be the best option.

Kuraĝo closed the holopad and put its frame in her pocket, then looked around, wondering what she could take without looking suspicious. She settled on a couple of snack bars in her other pocket. She didn’t exactly have room for anything else.

She made her way through the building, down to the launch pad. Part of her was terrified of someone becoming suspicious and calling in the Milico on her, but the other part knew it would look more suspicious to look around rather than to just keep moving.

Eventually, nerves thoroughly wracked, Kuraĝo made it to Compartment A3. No one was around. Slipping inside, she took out her holopad, turned it on, and plugged in the chip. Immediately, a message appeared on the screen:

Upload Virtual Personal Network?

Kuraĝo thought for a moment. Whatever that was, it wasn’t like she had many other options. She pressed “Yes”, and the screen changed, indicating the upload was successful. Next, a set of files appeared. The first was labeled “History”. Kuraĝo pressed on it, and began to scroll through a mound of data. History videos, essays, and not a few pages from something called “Wikipedia”. None of it meant much to Kuraĝo; she hadn’t taken a history class in years.

She closed the file and looked through the others. Some held apparent current events, others messages from individuals on Tero. Kuraĝo could barely believe her eyes. Was all of this real? Was Tero really…at peace? It seemed impossible…

A file at the bottom caught her eye; it had her name on it. It was a video file, with Aŭroro in the thumbnail. Kuraĝo took the earbuds out from a slot in the holopad, put them in, and opened the video.

Hello, Kuraĝo, video-Aŭroro said. By now you’ve most likely looked through the information on this data chip. Possibly with the exception of the history file. Fair enough; that was never really your favorite subject.

I included this video just in case something happened to me. Apparently, it did. Anyway, the point is, now you know that virtually everything we were ever told was a lie. At least, I hope you believe me. It would be pretty annoying if I did all this and you only saw me as a filthy traitor.

Kuraĝo wished she could tell Aŭroro that was the last thing from her mind. She might have had doubts before, but she had trusted her friend for years now, and if she went to this much effort, it wasn’t just for some dumb prank.

Anyway, the last file contains the launch sequence. Hopefully you remember what we learned in flight class. The universe knows I don’t. The coordinates will take you to a small town in the province of Kurdistan. I have a friend there. It will be enough for me if you escape and live your life happily away from this hellhole we call Luna, but if you could try and convince the Teroj to help us, well, that’d be great.

I love you, Kuraĝo. Be free.

Kuraĝo took a moment to think. It didn’t take her long to make a decision. She needed to leave.

Stuffing the holopad and data chip back into her pocket, she carefully opened the compartment door and jogged, as quietly as possible, to the launch bay doors. All trained citizens had access to the ships at all times, whether for practice, emergencies, or the odd (approved) race. After all, where would they go? They were all good Unitists.

Kuraĝo filled out a practice form, selected a standard one-person craft, and climbed in, putting on the flight gear as the bay doors opened above her. While the ship was lifted up into the airlock, she surreptitiously inserted the data chip. The ship read the coordinates and plotted them out.

At last, the bay doors closed, and the airlock doors opened. Kuraĝo breathed a sigh of relief and launched the craft. Almost immediately, a warning sounded in her ear.

“Kuraĝo Forto, turn your craft around immediately. If you do not, we will be forced to open fire.”

“Hmm,” she said, pretending to consider it. “I think I’ll open the throttle instead.”

Her ship shot off, but as it did, something flared in the corner of her eye. A laser bolt had scarred her wing, and the little ship was shaking unsteadily.

Kuraĝo summoned every bit of pilot practice, wrestling with the craft to keep it on course. She was too far out of range for any more shots, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still crash and burn. It took all of her effort just to keep the ship from flying off course. Mercifully, whatever “Kurdistan” was, she was already facing its side of Tero. She closed in on the planet, praying no one there was going to shoot her down.

As if on cue, a voice crackled in her cockpit. “Lunar craft, identify yourself.”

Kuraĝo pressed the com button and began to speak. “This is Kuraĝo Forto, of Luno. I have just escaped my colony, and am on a crash course with Kurdistan. I am attempting to control my descent, but I do not know if I will succeed. Please, do not shoot.”

There was a moment of silence.

“We have your coordinates tracked, Kuraĝo. We will activate the Hewlêr tractor beam. You’ll land safely. Please continue on your current trajectory.”

~~~~

Kuraĝo waited in a small room for over an hour. After docking in the city of Hewlêr, she’d been taken to a government facility and told to wait. She hadn’t been bored, though. They’d brought her something to eat, and there was a holoscreen in the room. The food tasted absolutely amazing. The fruit was somehow fresher than it was on Luno, and the baked bread was so much better than the synthetic kind. That wasn’t even getting into the meat (which she’d never had), or the pastries.

After stuffing her face with the food, Kuraĝo had turned to the holoscreen. Thankfully, it had an Esperanto setting among several other languages, including کورمانجی, English, اَلْعَرَبِيَّةُ, 普通话, and español. After going down a rabbit hole of content, she felt thoroughly overwhelmed. There was simply so much.

It was honestly a relief for her brain when she encountered the cat videos. Whatever those soft-looking creatures were, they were absolutely hilarious, and she really wanted one.

Halfway through an animated clip involving a very weird-looking cat with rainbows coming out of it, a woman stepped into the room. She was extremely well-dressed, in a crisp black suit and matching pants.

“Hello, Miss Forto,” she said, with a slight accent, holding out her hand. “I am Anastasiya Zelenskaya, president of the Federation.”

Kuraĝo stood, pausing the strange video, and shook the woman’s hand a little awkwardly. The title sounded important, and she wasn’t sure what to say. She decided a simple greeting was probably the safest option.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m sorry, Ms. President, but I’m not quite sure what that means.”

The president smiled. “Please, call me Mrs. Zelenskaya. And it means I’m the executive leader of this planet.”

Kuraĝo’s jaw dropped open. “You came all the way here for me?”

“Of course. You’re the first refugee from the Lunar Colony to ever flee, let alone make it to Tero. I came in from Gibraltar, which is why I was late; it was a long flight. My apologies. May I sit?”

Taken aback, Kuraĝo nodded, returning to her own seat.

Mrs. Zelenskaya took a breath and then continued. “With that in mind, I can only assume you had a great deal of motivation, and some assurance that you would be safe here, for you to come.”

Suddenly, Kuraĝo felt guilty. Here she was, enjoying the luxuries of Tero, while Aŭroro was in prison, experiencing who knew what kind of punishment. The milicanoj had said they wouldn’t hurt her, but Kuraĝo didn’t think she could trust them anymore.

She nodded. “My friend, Aŭroro, was arrested by the Milico. Before they took her, she gave me a data chip. It had information on it; information about Tero. It also contained the coordinates of this city; I think she had a friend here.

The president nodded. “We’d had word that a citizen of the Colony had managed to break through their firewall and contact several citizens of the Federation. We were trying to help her escape, so we sent her those coordinates as well as any information she wanted. It seems we were successful, in a way.”

Kuraĝo shook her head. “Aŭroro and so many others are still up there. You aren’t successful--I’m not successful--until they’re brought safely back home. I was lied to all my life, and I just ate it all up. So did everyone else. They’re imprisoned and they don’t even know it. Aŭroro is actually in prison, where they’re doing who knows what to her.”

President Zelenskaya raised her hands placatingly. “I understand. But up until now, we had know idea what we would be going into. Your friend, Aŭroro, was only in contact with us for a week. She never sent us any schematics or information needed to launch any kind of assault or rescue mission.” She paused. “I don’t suppose you know anything about their defenses?”

Kuraĝo nodded. “Actually, yes. Not everything, of course, but I know where all the large batteries are, as well as the launch bays and Milico barracks. Will that be enough?”

Zelenskaya’s eyes lit up. “Yes! That’s more than we could have hoped for! I can’t issue a declaration of war, but I do have the authority to initiate an operation.”

Kuraĝo stood and looked the president straight in the eyes. “Then I want in.”

Mrs. Zelenskaya raised an eyebrow. “It will be dangerous.”

“So is flying a small spacecraft while being fired at.”

“Fair point. Can you fight?”

“I’m in the Athletics Track. That includes martial arts. I almost never lose. Besides, I need to get to Aŭroro.”

Now the other eyebrow was raised. “She must mean a lot to you.”

Kuraĝo nodded. “She’s everything I have. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

“I understand.” Zelenskaya stood. “You have my permission to join the operation.”

They shook hands again. “Thank you, Mrs. Zelenskaya. It means the world to me.”

“You’re welcome. Just try not to get hurt while saving your friend.”

“I’ll…do my best.”

~~~~

It had taken almost a month to plan and organize the operation. In that time, Kuraĝo had channeled her worry and anticipation into training for what was to be part rescue, part invasion. She’d punched, kicked, and wrestled her way through more than a few soldiers and trainers, developed a moderate ability with a firearm, and trained with stun batons. At night, she’d barely been able to sleep as she worried over Aŭroro’s fate.

Now, Kuraĝo was sitting in a transport, surrounded by around fifty other soldiers, rocketing towards Luno. She glanced around and noticed a young man--Seamus--holding a string of beads with a lopsided cross attached, his head bowed and his lips moving quietly.

Curious, she asked, “What’s that?”

He looked up and spoke in his Irish brogue. “My rosary. I’m praying to Saint Michael the archangel to intercede on our behalf with God, so we’ll be protected during battle.”

Seeing her confused expression, he asked, “Do you not follow any god?”

She shook her head. “Religion was seen as a dividing factor on Luno. Worship was prohibited.”

Seamus nodded. “I can see why. Many used to think that the different faiths couldn’t coexist. Now, however, we’ve seen that, like all our differences, this one only makes our new society better and more vibrant.”

Kuraĝo thought for a moment. “I never thought of it that way. I’m not sure I believe in any higher power, but I think I’ll look when we get back.

Seamus smiled. “Well, you’ll always be welcome in my congregation, or any you choose to call home.”

Just then, the transport slowed and began to shake. They had encountered the laser batteries. All around Kuraĝo, soldiers tensed, readying their weapons and clutching their harnesses.

After a few tense minutes, the transport touched down, locking its front onto a section of the colony. The sound of cutting metal screeched through the craft, and then the doors opened. All at once, the harnesses released, and the soldiers poured out, joining the fray.

It was a terrifying rush. Adrenaline coursed through Kuraĝo’s body like never before as she and the others battled their way through the corridors, securing the habitation deck she had once called home. After the milicanoj in the area were all captured or routed, she went with a small squad to secure the prison deck. There was only a single milico on duty.

Kuraĝo pointed her stun gun at the guard. “Open the doors and give me the cell key for Aŭroro Stelo, now!”

“Alright, alright!” The guard slowly moved one hand towards the control panel, then quickly pressed a button and ducked down. Instantly, thick security doors clamped shut in from of Kuraĝo, sealing off the cell block.

Gritting her teeth in frustration and impatience, she took a small, circular device (the soldiers called it a “puck”) out of her pocket, stuck it to the doors, and set it to “Low”. Several thin rods extended out from the puck, then ignited. The laser cutters spun around like a fan before retracting back into the device. Then, the puck struck out with a captive bolt, tipping the cut section forward and launching itself back into Kuraĝo’s hand. She pocketed it, strode towards the stunned guard, and raised the gun.

“Try again.”

He complied. After the doors were open, she left him with one of the others and jogged down the hall, looking for Aŭroro. The other soldiers followed behind. Each cell had a panel with the inmate’s name and crime on it. A surprisingly large number were filled, and many of those had the same crimes as Aŭroro.

More people who saw through the lies, Kuraĝo thought.

At last, she found Aŭroro’s cell. Kuraĝo placed the cell key in the lock and opened the door.

There was Aŭroro, staring at her in shock.

“Kuraĝo? Is that you?”

Kuraĝo thought she might cry. She dropped the gun and rushed forward, picking up Aŭroro in a tight embrace.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

Aŭroro laughed. “I guess you believed me, huh?”

Kuraĝo lowered her friend to look her in the eye. “Yes! And I came back to rescue you! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Aŭroro assured her. “The worst they did to me was put me through endless hours of ‘education’ and attempted brainwashing. They’re honestly not very good at it. It’s a good thing you arrived when you did, though, or I might have been bored to death. You’re really my knight in shining armor.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll explain it later.” Aŭroro picked up the gun and handed it to Kuraĝo, then grasped her other hand. “For now, I’m just so glad to see you again.”

Kuraĝo smiled. “Me, too.”

Hand in hand, they emerged from the cell and began to walk back, reunited at last, and free to begin their new life.

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Three Chapter 2

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Three

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 107k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: Only one Xiang remains and her name is Merra. She hopes to unite the land by force and plow down anyone in her way—especially the people of Agni who she deems faithless and the native people of Terra who refuse to cooperate with her.

Raine continues to serve his Lord but he has taken to alcoholism to soothe his grief—a fact he keeps out of his letters with Heidi. Baiya has returned to mercenary work in order to keep his family safe while Kira is on the warpath. He, fully, takes on the title of Chaaya and means to defeat the Xiang he sees as false.

And, in a guarded castle in Enlil, a stir-crazy Princess dabbles in the dark arts, setting in motion something even Tiandi cannot see.

Full chapter 2 under the cut

Chapter II:

Light poured into the room from the window and gulls called in the distance—yet another morning in this place. May fought the waking world and kept turning, further and further into the warm body next to her. Her legs tangled into the silk sheets and she groaned deep in the back of her throat, unwilling to rise.

An arm came over her and, while she would have normally accepted the embrace, she knew what its true intent was. Next came the shaking, gentle but persistent.

“Mmmn…no…” May muttered and pressed her forehead into the crook between her mattress and Fujin’s chest.

“Princess,” Fujin addressed her, already sounding far too professional for this early in the morning. May missed the night time, when she would call her by name. “I need to get to my post.”

“What’s it matter?” May retorted, burying herself further. Most people knew about them anyway and those that did not were simply too stupid to figure it out.

Even the King and Queen knew. They simply pretended as though they did not.

Last year, one of the new castle guards had tried, in earnest, to bring the situation to their attention. He was met with an upturned nose and ridicule and was told to never speak of it again.

It embarrassed them, May knew, and that was part of the reason why she did it. And she did it with someone they could not afford to terminate. Someone irreplaceable in the castle.

There was also the fact May cared for Fujin though she would not claim to love her, just as she would not expect the woman to say the same. If Fujin were gone, she would no longer have any outlet for her frustrations or her joy—she would be miserable, surely, but that was no worry since Fujin would always be around.

She was constant. Predictable.

That was why it was not surprising when Fujin started to rise, pushing herself away from May and unlinking their limbs from under the sheets, even as the princess grabbed at her to try and make her stay.

“Your highness, please.” She only made it to a sitting position before May threw her arms around her and brought her back down onto the bed. Fujin let out a frustrated sigh. “Kaz cannot cover for me forever.”

“I am not asking him to.” May frowned. “Just a few more moments.”

Fujin blew out air—not quite a sigh—and looked at the ceiling as May curled into the side of her. It was fruitless to argue or push back when she was in a mood like this.

A sudden clicking on the floor sent Fujin back into alertness and she lifted her head in the direction of the sound. She gasped and pulled up the sheet, to her collar bone, as she forced May to rise with her and sit. “How did you get in here?” Fujin demanded of the intruder.

May, more awake than before (or at least more willing to move around), grabbed Fujin’s arm to keep her still. “I know her, it’s alright.”

“Know her?!” Fujin’s brow furrowed in confusion. It was not exactly like May could make new friends in a castle where the only people coming and going were guards and the occasional visitor. “How is that possible? How did she get in here without opening the door?”

“Calm down.” May rolled her eyes and sat more comfortable as she looked at the guest. She did not care to cover herself like Fujin did. “Parvati, you had better be here with good news. I do not like my mornings being interrupted.”

“I know your highness.” Unlike the day prior, she was not disguising herself to blend into the personnel of the castle. She looked like she did every time May had spoken to her privately, within the four walls of her room or the dead of night.

Her dark purple dress kissed the stone floor and her hair was tied up with ornaments protruding out from all directions. She held a translucent sash around her arms and her beard looked a little shorter and glossy. Other than the fact she had appeared in front of May at an odd time, she was also dressed up which told her something important was happening.

Fujin cut in, confusion battling clarity, “Wait…Parvati? The servant girl you introduced me to months ago?”

“Yes.” May smiled and gestured to her with a flat palm. “She has been my teacher. I have been following her instructions.”

Something clicked behind Fujin’s eyes and she glanced to the bearded woman with a frown. “So you have been behind her highness’ most recent…projects.”

“Indeed.” Parvati bowed her head. “I have everything ready for the final step. If you will meet me in the undercroft tonight, at around midnight.”

May practically jumped out of her skin in excitement. “You will be with me this time?”

“I will.” She smirked, seeming just as eager.

Fujin glanced between the two and clutched the sheet in her hand even tighter. “Kaz and I will accompany you. Like always.”

“I will await you all then.” Parvati stepped back and began to fade into the one shadow still cast in the room. The last she said, before completely disappearing, was, “Do not be late.”

“Oh this is going to be soooo fun.” May beamed and rose from the bed. She quickly threw a robe over her body but did not bother to fasten it around the waist. “My parents will finally have no choice but to let me be free.”

Cynicism was etched on Fujin’s face. She carefully slipped on her thin tunic that she wore under her armor while her eyes continued to flicker toward her princess. “You are sure this will go as you hope? This show of power may just frighten your parents in a different way…they could become stricter.”

Her smile fell and a scowl replaced it with lightning speed. May whipped around to properly face Fujin and she snapped, “Then I will kill them and free myself! Sunny can be Queen instead.”

“Sunny is…” Fujin started and then stopped immediately for fear of angering May further. “She would make a fine Queen but she would need help.”

“Yes and if our parents would just teach her then she would do fine.” May huffed. “I will do what I want with my life. Tonight, everything begins anew. I will not have any doubting, Fujin, or I will leave you behind. Got it?”

With May’s finger pointed square in her chest, Fujin had no choice but to nod.

***

The day was excruciatingly slow with the knowledge of what was to come at night. May even wasted some of her time in audience with the King and Queen although that was partly to throw them off of her scent. They had never been suspicious or caught wind of her previous experiments but, with how large this one would be, she did wish to do some damage control.

She was even pleasant—or as pleasant as she could be in the face of those sentient toilet seats she called her parents.

They spoke again of the marriage and, this time, May did not object to it so vehemently. She understood that Raiden would be coming to Mythos whether she liked it or not and she hoped that her project would be ready about the time of his arrival.

Parvati had warned it would have an adjustment period.

Her impatience swelled after dinner. Why could they not just meet at sundown? Why midnight? May paced in her room, viciously counting down the minutes.

Each time her door opened, which was not often, she would jump and her heart would work overtime. But, it was just Kaz, every time.

He walked back into the room to announce, “Sunny is in bed. She really wanted to spend the night with you, your highness.”

May frowned. Normally, she would have taken some time out of her night to sit with her older sister and talk. Maybe even play some old childhood games that she had grown out of practice in. Sunny was still good at all of them. Sunny played them often.

“Maybe tomorrow,” she said and rubbed her forehead. “If it wouldn’t scare her or if I could trust her to keep a secret, I would take her with us.”

“I would advise against that anyway,” Fujin chimed in, “This sort of thing is best with as few people as possible.”

Kaz nodded, agreeing with his sister. “The possibility of something going wrong is always there. Fujin and I can give our all to protect you but with our efforts halved…”

“Okay, okay,” May groaned and held out her hand to shut him up, “I get it.”

The room went silent after that, only host to May’s complaints that came every few minutes. Eventually, midnight did come but it took far too long for the princess’ liking.

Fujin took the lead while Kaz stayed behind May as they crept through the halls and down toward the undercroft. They had to pass by an old dungeon hall that saw no use anymore since all criminals were sent to the jail on the main island rather than taking up valuable space in the castle.

Torches lined the path down to the deepest parts but they remained unlit. Fujin set fire to only one and held it in her hand to light the way. The room they were headed for was full of more torches and she would brighten that area but she did not want to leave a trail behind them. No guard would have a reason to come this way but every precaution was still being taken.

The hall of white stone and posthumous statues signified their destination. Fujin began to light the torches around the largest rooms, home to May’s ancestors and the future resting place of her own remains. One of the statues that had previously lain over the top of a tomb (the grave of May’s great-great grandfather) had been removed since the start of her experiments.

Now, a sheet was over the stone and a body underneath. By the looks of it, Fujin could tell they were tall but not taller than Kaz so, most likely, it was a male form. She caught herself guessing and quickly shut off that part of her brain to focus on the task at hand. Once she was done lighting all of the torches, she turned to look at May.

“You are really doing this again?” Kaz asked as the princess kneeled in front of her grandmother’s tomb. He did not care for the experiments, openly so, and drew back in slight disgust when May cracked open the stone.

She had found the perfect tool for the job since starting and she left it down with the tombs. The metal of the bar hooked under the lip of the structure and she pushed all of her body weight down onto it. Crack. Dust billowed out but May was so used to it that she already had a sleeve over her mouth and nose to combat it.

“Sorry, grammy,” May said through her sleeve, muffling her words. She waited until the dust settled and then reached into the slab for the bones.

More cracking.

Kaz looked away while Fujin narrowed her eyes as her stomach churned. It never became easier to watch but, for May, it was, apparently, simple to do. She had always had a strong stomach, ever since she was a kid. She would touch worms and beetles with her bare hands and, once, when she was just shy of ten, she kept a dead bird in her pocket for a few days because she thought it would make a good toy. Fujin could have never guessed that she would graduate to thoughtlessly pulling apart human corpses, however.

“Almost ready?” A low voice, echoing through the empty halls, caused both guards to turn. It was Parvati but Kaz had never seen her before so he stayed on high alert until Fujin motioned to him that it was alright.

May did not even notice the exchange since she was still retrieving her grandmother’s other arm. “Almost,” she grunted and yanked, pulling it loose. “Aha!”

“Good. Now, into the next room.” Parvati led the way to where the body lay under the sheet. May, Fujin, and Kaz, all eyed it curiously.

“So…this is the one, huh?” May set down her grandmother’s arms and marveled at the sheet, almost as if she could see what was underneath.

“And I have a matching soul,” Parvati announced with a smile. “I have my partner to thank for that.”

May arched an eyebrow. “Partner?” In all the time she had known Parvati, never once had she uttered word about a partner.

The woman placed a finger to her lips. “He wishes to remain anonymous. I do hope he does not mind me mentioning him but I really could not have done this without him.”

Fujin and Kaz exchanged a look, feeling similarly confused.

“Anyway,” Parvati pivoted and stood at the back of the slab, “Proceed with the ritual, your highness. This will bind you to the body and soul.”

May nodded and sat on her knees in front of the body. She arranged her grandmother’s arms at either side of her, closed her eyes, and then wrapped her arms around her chest, creating an X shape.

The words she spoke were not of common tongue nor were they anything either sibling had been able to find in the books at the castle. It sounded ancient and guttural as if each word was a swear. And, considering the nature of the ritual, that was probably the case.

The torchlight flickered and a wind blew through the room, chilling everyone to the bone. It was always like this, in a way, but there was a pressure in the air that was not ever present before.

Parvati grinned from ear to ear and removed the sheet just as the body began to stir. They sat up, groggy, but they looked more alive than any of May’s previous tests. Their skin had a healthy tan and their dark brown hair seemed well cared for—almost as well cared for as their robes which showed no sign of being buried at any point. In fact, there was no notable injury or evidence of death at all.

Bright emerald eyes darted about the room, housing more awareness than any of them were used to seeing in the bodies that came to life on the slab.

“So, who is it?” May asked, eager.

“My dear,” Parvati said as she set her hand on the body’s shoulder and leaned around to get a decent look at them herself. Her smile only grew and she glanced back to May, that familiar glimmer in her eye. “It is the Xiang.”

[mxbitters]

lmao so some asshole posted this on my town’s patch page but god could you IMAGINE 

[blu-joons]

When The Members Find Out That You’re Dating After Seeing You Kiss ~ NCT 127 Reaction

Taeil:

“Hey, Y/N?” Dongyoung weakly smiled as he walked out of his room, surprised to see you stood by the door of the dorm with Taeil stood right by your side.

“Hi,” you waved, anxiously looking between him and Taeil as you tried to keep your expression under control. “I was just stopping by to drop something off for Taeil.”

Dongyoung folded his arms across his chest, looking suspiciously at you both, “why are you both smiling sheepishly if Y/N just came to drop off.”

“We’re not sheepish,” Taeil fumbled, reaching behind him to undo the latch of the dorm door to try and hurry you out and get Dongyoung off of your backs quickly.

His head shook though, “the two of you look like you’re sneaking out. Come to think of it, I was pretty sure that I could hear kissing at some point in the night.”

“You must have been dreaming about it,” you tried to convince him.

“I don’t dream about that sort of stuff.”

As Dongyoung spoke, Taeil tried his best to usher you out, “maybe you’re sleepwalking or something, how is this real?”

“You two are rubbish liars,” Dongyoung called out as you walked through the door, “your faces are a right giveaway.”

“You don’t know anything, you saw nothing,” Taeil spoke up.

“No, but I definitely heard plenty.”

Johnny:

“What do you think of this?” Mark asked the group, sitting down to show a photo that he had taken of the new company building, “they could put this on the website.”

“There’s someone in the photo,” Yuta pointed out though as Mark zoomed in on some people that he had caught in the bottom of the photograph, “they’re kissing as well.”

Mark’s eyes looked to Johnny as he took a look too, “I thought they looked quite cute, so I included them, what do you think Johnny?” Mark asked him.

“Y-yeah,” Johnny stuttered, recognising the outfits of the two people that were in the photo, trying his best not to let onto a thing as the rest of the boys were clueless.

He shot a glare across to Mark, who could only smile back at him, “maybe we should just keep the photo for ourselves rather than share it to anyone.”

“If only those people hadn’t have gotten in the way,” Jungwoo commented.

“I’m going to kill you when I get you.”

Mark shrugged as Johnny mouthed across to him, “the people in the photo should be more careful about where they kiss.”

“I agree,” Taeyong spoke up, unaware that it was in fact you and Johnny that Mark had captured in the photo.

“If we knew them, we could tell them to move,” Donghyuck huffed.

“Yeah, if only we knew who they were.”

Taeyong:

“Tidy yourself up a bit,” Yoonoh scolded, wiping against the corner of Taeyong’s mouth for him, “you’re making things far too obvious showing up like this.”

“What is it?” Taeyong queried, feeling his heart race a little bit, knowing exactly what had just landed on the corner of his mouth, fearing the worst as Yoonoh removed the stain.

Yoonoh’s eyes rolled once he had finished, “little tip, if you want to keep your relationship quiet, don’t let your partner kiss you before showing up to work.”

“There was lipstick on me?” Taeyong frowned, wiping over the mark himself to make sure that it was clean, “I had no idea that that was on there, why didn’t Y/N say so?”

Yoonoh shrugged back at him, “maybe Y/N didn’t see it, but you’re lucky that I was the one that did, imagine the scenes of Donghyuck was the one that saw it.”

“Please just don’t tell anyone else what you saw,” Taeyong asked him.

“I’ll be quiet, but just this once for you.”

Taeyong nodded in agreement, “I’ll make sure that I’m much more careful next time, and that Y/N isn’t wearing lipstick too.”

“I’m just glad you’re with Y/N,” Yoonoh whispered, “you’ve definitely found a good one with Y/N, don’t ever forget that.”

“I don’t plan on it,” Taeyong blushed, “she’s a great kisser too.”

“I can definitely already see that.”

Yuta:

“Where’s Y/N?” Jungwoo asked, surprised to see Yuta entering the studio all alone, feeling a hand push against him as Yuta moved him to somewhere quiet.

“What are you talking about Y/N for?” Yuta questioned, glancing around to make sure none of the others had spotted the two of them, “why would I know where Y/N is right now?”

Jungwoo shrugged in response to him, “I could be mistaken, but did I not see you kissing someone by the door of the dorm this morning when I went to the toilet.”

“That was you?” Yuta gasped, with the penny finally dropping, “we just thought that that was someone upstairs making too much noise moving around.”

Jungwoo shook his head with a smug smile, “I thought I was seeing things, I thought there would be no way you would try and sneak Y/N out like that.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Yuta asked nervously, “tell everyone?”

“That depends on what you can do for me.”

A sigh came from Yuta, “at this point I’ll do anything to stop you from spilling to the boys, that’s how desperate I am right now.”

“I was not expecting that,” Jungwoo teased, “maybe we could start with a coffee, I’m feeling a little lacking of energy.”

“I’ll go down and get you your favourite,” Yuta hurriedly told him.

“I could just get used to this.”

Doyoung:

“You’re so punching,” Johnny remarked as he finally managed to find a moment in the day where it was just him and Dongyoung sat side by side together.

“Excuse me?” Dongyoung asked, suspicious of the smirk that was on Johnny’s face as he looked across to him. “What are you on about?” Dongyoung pushed, confused as to what was going on.

Johnny could only chuckle at Dongyoung’s confusion, “last night you went out for dinner with Y/N, the two of you got to the dorm just as I got back from recording.”

“You saw us?” Dongyoung panicked, trying his best to keep his voice down so that none of the others overheard him, “you just saw us walking, right?”

As Johnny’s head shook, Dongyoung’s heart dropped, “if just by walking, you mean sharing a kiss before Y/N carried on walking and dropped you off, yes.”

“I swear it was just one kiss in public,” Dongyoung assured him.

“It doesn’t bother me what you do together.”

A soft sigh came from Dongyoung, “none of the other boys were with you, were they? No one else would have seen us?”

“I was by myself,” Johnny informed him, “although next time if you do that again, it might not just be me around.”

“I’m going to be much more careful now,” Dongyoung whispered.

“By the way, you’re really cute together.”

Jaehyun:

“What are you up to?” Yuta questioned, making Yoonoh jump as he closed the dorm door after making his way back up from the parking lot.

“What are you playing at?” Yoonoh jumped, covering his heart with his hand as he flinched back in surprise as he walked back through, “or more to the point, how long have you been there?”

Yuta stared blankly across at Yoonoh, “for how long exactly would you have liked for me to have been stood here, more or less time than since you walked out?”

“What have you seen?” Yoonoh asked in panic, refusing to let Yuta play any games with him, “how were you so quiet to sneak out like that too?”

Yuta proudly smiled back across at him, “I was only being quiet because I thought everyone was asleep, I didn’t quite expect to see what I saw from you.”

“Did you see the two of us…?” Yoonoh asked, unable to finish his question.

“Kiss? I saw absolutely all of it Yoon.”

Yoonoh’s eyes went wide in surprise, “I promise that I was going to tell everyone, but just when the time was right.”

“I’m not going to spill,” Yuta assured him, “I just get the satisfaction of already knowing when you tell everyone else.”

“They’ll kill me that you already know,” Yoonoh groaned.

“You’re in a world of bother with them.”

Jungwoo:

“Tell me that this isn’t proof that they’re together?” Donghyuck called out, waving the boys across to the window so that they could all take a look out too.

“Is that Y/N with him?” Taeil asked as he joined Donghyuck at the window, “you were right all along, the two of them are dating?” Taeil laughed, impressed by Donghyuck’s detective work.

Donghyuck nodded back to all of the boys, “I told you that I saw them kissing the other day, I don’t know why none of you believed me, look at the two of them.”

“It’s obvious now,” Yoonoh agreed as he watched Jungwoo take a hold of your hand, “I can’t believe we believed that he was going out to meet a friend.”

The boys were all kicking themselves as they continued to watch, “why didn’t he just tell us that he was going out to meet Y/N, we’d have been fine.”

“Him and Y/N were friends once upon a time,” Johnny reminded everyone.

“Just now they’re a lot more than that.”

Donghyuck nodded once again, “this is why you guys should listen to me, I’m not just a handsome face, I’m smart.”

“Be quiet,” Taeyong laughed back to their youngest, “because now we’ve got to try and figure out a way to catch them out.”

“That’s easy,” Mark spoke up, “Jungwoo is rubbish with secrets.”

“We’ve cornered them both now.”

Mark:

“You should be careful around him,” Taeyong warned Johnny as he passed Mark by, with the two of them both looking across to Taeyong with puzzled eyes.

“Why should he be careful around me?” Mark asked cluelessly in response, feeling Johnny’s eyes looking across to him for answers, with Mark as equally confused as Johnny was.

The smile on Taeyong’s face continued to grow, “from what I saw last night, Mark’s got quite the habit of kissing strangers now, judging by what I witnessed.

“Kissing strangers?” Mark laughed, beginning to figure exactly what Taeyong had saw, “I was just catching up with an old friend last night, that’s what it probably was.”

Taeyong folded his arms across his chest, “I didn’t realise Y/N was that old of a friend,” he spoke, hearing a gasp come from Johnny beside him as it fell into place.

“You don’t know that I was with Y/N last night,” Mark tried to defend.

“I do know what Y/N looks like remember.”

Mark reached forwards and pushed against both Taeyong and Johnny, “the two of you are to say nothing about this to anyone else.”

“Are you and Y/N together?” Johnny excitedly asked him, shaking Mark’s arm, “I always knew you two would get together one day.”

“Now look what you’ve done,” Mark groaned across to Taeyong.

“You kissed Y/N; this is your fault.”

Haechan:

“So, the two of you aren’t joined at the hip,” Taeil joked as Donghyuck passed him by, offering the youngest a knowing smile as they met eyes together.

“What are you on about?” Donghyuck innocently asked, stuttering over his words as he tried his best to stay composed and not give anything up to Taeil unless he really had to.

Taeil’s eyes rolled as Donghyuck acted innocently, “I’m your elder, I keep an eye on everything that you did, and all of the people that you might kiss too.”

“K-kiss?” Donghyuck continued to play, knowing from Taeil’s expression that he knew exactly what was going on, “how do you know who I’ve been kissing?”

A loud chuckle came from Taeil, “I saw the two of you by her car last night when I was closing my curtains to head to bed, you were in public.”

“We thought that no one was watching,” Donghyuck whispered in panic.

“I guess you didn’t look upstairs then.”

Donghyuck grabbed onto Taeil’s arm tightly, “please don’t tell anyone, I’m not ready to be teased about the fact I’m with Y/N just yet.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Taeil assured him, “but maybe next time you should be more careful as to who is really watching.”

“I’m never going to kiss Y/N in public again,” Donghyuck vowed.

“There’s no way I’m believing that.”

---

Masterlist

[lordsisterxotome]

Begging for Mercy, Begging for More (Chevalier Michel x Reader)

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Pairing: Chevalier Michel x Reader

Prompt: “I might hurt you. Are you sure you want that?”

Warning: Smut! Minors DNI!!!🔞

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 1,370

Ko-fi: Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Prince or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Author’s Note: First fic for Ikeprince, whoo!! I’m about halfway through Chevalier’s route so I’m sorry if there are any inconsistencies in terms of plot or character. Anyway! Let’s go day 7 of @xxsycamore​’s Visions of Temptation event💕

Tag list: @yesmarsx @nad-zeta @kisara-16 @cheese-ception @cailann @vespeshadowmoon @ravenarld @juminly @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @otomefoxystar @toxiicmoron @arigallesi

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If you would like to be added to the tag list, please fill out this form.

       Bringing his hand to your lips, you pressed a lingering kiss to his knuckles, smiling as a sensation akin to being washed in the warm light of a fireplace fell over you. Peering up at your lover from beneath your lashes, your smile grew, joyful and teasing. Chevalier met your smile with one of his own, lips curling in a gesture equally mischievous and more than a little seductive.

       “I want everything you can give me, my love,” you answered in reply to the question he’d just asked you.

       “I might hurt you,” he’d said, pale gaze unreadable as you drew him back with you onto the bed, guiding him between your legs. “Are you sure you want that?”

       Silly man. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, diplomacy and the demands of ruling tearing him away from you yet again, and he expected you to want him to go easy on you? After long nights of trying and failing to pleasure yourself with the sad substitute that was your fingers he thought you wanted him to take it slow?

       Absolutely not.

       You knew he’d suffered just as much as you had, that the beast was there, waiting patiently just beneath the surface, ready to ravage you to within an inch of your life. And that was all you wanted right now - for your lover to reaffirm his claim to your body and fuck you until you couldn’t take it anymore, until you were raw and stupid on his cock.

       You sighed, eyes fluttering, as Chevalier’s hands smoothed up your thighs, lifting your skirts and exposing your bare cunt to his ravenous gaze. He hummed appraisingly as he slid a finger through your heat, gathering your wetness on the digit. “Were you expecting this? I didn’t think anyone was aware I’d be returning today.” Ice blue eyes flicked up to your face, fire swirling in their depths. “Is this for someone else?”

       “N-ah!” Your denial cut off in a yelp as he plunged a finger inside of you, rubbing ruthlessly at your inner walls.

       “What was that?” His breath fanned across your face as he chuckled, pushing your knee to the side so you lay splayed and exposed for him. “Have I been gone so long that you’ve forgotten who you belong to?”

       “N-Never, Chevalier…” You could barely put the words together, so focused on the appendage making a mess of your weeping core. 

       He pulled away, leaving you lying there with your heart pounding and thighs trembling, to drop his cloak and mantle to the floor with a muffled thud. “If you like what you’re wearing I would suggest taking it off quickly.” His hands moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, the slight fumble in his movements betraying his excitement as a sharp smirk crossed his face. “That is unless you want me to tear it off of you.” 

       You nearly tore the laces of your dress yourself in your haste to do as he said, but still, your corset wasn’t so lucky, ripped away by your very impatient and now naked lover. Gasping as the unfortunate bindings snapped under his wrath, you hadn’t the time to pay anymore attention to the destroyed article as your legs were pried open and hard cock pressed against your entrance. You had just enough time to glance down, to see the swollen mass of Chevalier’s manhood and wonder how it had ever fit inside of you, before it slid home with a sharp squelch, your walls forced to accommodate the sudden intrusion. 

       Throwing your head back with a scream, you grasped at his shoulders as he began to pound into you, unwilling to wait a second longer. You knew he’d be rough, had encouraged it, but god, how you’d forgotten how this man could absolutely rail you into the mattress. Chevalier’s love was fast and claiming, leaving you winded with barely a clue as to what had just happened. 

       His lips were hot on your throat and face, showering you in kisses and leaving love bites where he saw fit. The marks he’d left before departing had long since faded, and while logically he knew they would, something about seeing them gone from your skin sparked an irrational annoyance in his heart.

       “Look at me,” he murmured, catching your chin and forcing your lust-blurred eyes to focus on him. “Watch me as I make you mine.” Reaching up to grip the headboard above you, he pulled back only to ram into you harder, driving the tip of his cock against your cervix. It would be nothing short of a miracle if you could walk after this.

       Your nails dragged down his back as he plowed you, caught between begging for mercy and begging for more. His name left your lips like a prayer with each forward drive into your depths, eagerly accepting his kiss as his mouth claimed yours in a passionate tangle of tongues. 

       His balls slapped against your ass with each thrust, the erotic sounds of your pussy sucking him deeper and the clap of skin against skin most likely audible to anyone close by. If they didn’t know Chevalier had found you before, they certainly did now as he grasped your thighs and pinned your knees against your chest. A scream of his name tore from your lips as the new position churned your insides, imprinting the shape of his dick into your walls. The pain of each thrust against your cervix only amplified the pleasure, leaving you a mess in his arms.

       Tears of pleasure escaped to wet your temples, breath stolen away with each unrelenting kiss he bestowed upon you. All the false cruelty from before had melted away, leaving a rare vulnerable expression on Chevalier’s face, his cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. In the clarity of passion, you knew that each roll of his hips was a silent ‘I love you,’ begging you to give him every piece of yourself.

       He’d missed you so much. Missed the way you felt, the way your pussy hugged his cock, the way you looked at him, all the love and lust you possessed for him and him alone. He couldn't go for so long without you again. He was sure it would kill him - or he would kill someone else - if he did. More than anything, he needed to make you cum, needed to feel you clamp down on him and watch you make that lovely face for him as he drove you to completion.

       A slight shift and the angle of his thrusts changed, his pubic bone grinding against your clit with each grind. 

       Your eyes flew open wide, back arching as you scrabbled for control, the ragged edge of your orgasm teasing every nerve in your body. “Chev, I’m - ah! - I’m close!”

       “Me too,” he grunted, lips brushing yours as he leaned down. His hand cupped your cheek, the movement so tender compared to the rough way he was making love to you. “Cum, darling. I’m going to make you feel so good you won’t be able to stand it. Cum for me.”

       It was too much. Your orgasm crashed through you on a scream, your cunt fluttering as you gushed around the cock still plunging in and out of you. A few heartbeats later and you gasped, whining, as hot pulses of Chevalier’s release painted your walls white, your oversensitive cunt sucking up all he had to give.

       Gently releasing your legs, he didn’t remove himself from you, instead settling onto his forearms to hover above you. “I missed you,” he panted, stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers. 

       Closing your eyes, you held his hand to your face, unable to help the wide grin that stole over your face as you answered, “I missed you too.”

       You were still panting, still sensitive to the cum seeping out around the cock buried inside of you, when he rose up once again. Your king still eager to reclaim you, and you had no desire to stop him. All you could do was hang on to him for the ride as he started thrusting into you again, fucking his seed back into you.

[webangchan]

✜ live feed ✜ felix x fem!reader 1.3k words kinks and warnings: sub!felix, dom!reader, camboy!felix, felix wearing a skirt, dirty talk, minor degradation, cum eating, masturbation.

Running across his profile a month ago had been an accident, believe it or not. 

Your sleepless nights had been catching up with you, and the threat of another eight hours tossing and turning in bed was enough to make you want to pull your hair out. But what could you do? You’d tried practically everything: taking over-the-counter sleep aids, drinking warm milk, cutting back on caffeine, meditating - none of it seemed to help.

With the clock on your nightstand announcing it was nearly two in the morning, you knew you had to do something, anything. Your phone was tucked away in the other room so that you couldn’t check it every five minutes  -- another attempt at sleeping better -- so you hastily grabbed your laptop from the floor next to your bed. With just a couple of keystrokes, you had a familiar article open. If the first ten methods hadn’t worked, maybe the eleventh would.

“Masturbate!”

You had laughed at the time, but whether from exhaustion or desperation, you clicked over to your favorite x-rated website. Not wanting to waste another thirty minutes clicking around to find the perfect video, your impatience got the best of you as you clicked the first appealing thumbnail you saw. 

That’s how you found SubbySunshine’s live feed and ended up sleeping well for the first time in weeks.

And that’s why you kept coming back.

You watch eagerly as the guy in front of the camera runs his hands over his bare thighs, digging his nails into the soft skin as he goes. As always, the webcam is angled so that you only see him from the neck down. He’s too shy, too “innocent” to let anyone know what he does in the late hours of the night, he’s said before. 

But the way his right hand squeezes his bulge through the fabric of the skirt he’s wearing makes you have your doubts. 

Apparently other viewers think so, too. Sunshine, as he refers to himself, giggles when someone donates a large amount of gold and he reads the accompanying message. “What do you mean you don’t think I’m innocent?” he asks, trailing his hand up his lithe body and dragging his cropped sweater up with it before ultimately tossing it off-frame. “You don’t think I’m some type of dirty slut, do you?” 

His voice is deep, deep enough to have you rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. You’ve watched enough videos by now to know that Sunshine likes to take his time before getting to the good part. It’s not in a bratty way; it just seems like he wants to give his viewers their money’s worth. 

But you’re getting antsy. Deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to skip getting coffee and breakfast a few mornings next week, you send through twenty dollars worth of gold. “Let’s see what’s under those clothes a little faster, Baby,” you type, hoping the tip and the message will get his attention.

With another laugh, Sunshine runs his finger back down his abs. “Thanks for the gold, Cutie,” he says, running his hand over his cock again. “You’re so demanding, huh? Bet you’d love to be here with me, have me on my knees telling me what to do.” 

He drags his skirt up a little more, revealing the red tip of his dick while the rest remains covered. You’ve seen it enough times to know how pretty it looks, how delicate his hands look when they wrap around him as he gets himself off for your pleasure. 

Not that you’d mind seeing it again. He’s already got you hot and bothered, and you want nothing more than to watch him make a mess on his stomach or the skirt. Hell, you don’t want it. You need it.

“Like what you see?” he asks, almost as if he can read your mind. “I’d love to show you more, if you’d like. You know how much I love being a good boy for you.”

You don’t hesitate to send through more gold. You’re certain other viewers do too, but you can’t say for sure. You’re too busy tugging down your shorts and spreading your legs, wanting to get off just as badly as Sunshine does. 

His breathing labors a bit as he pulls the skirt up even higher, letting it rest around his waistline. He grabs some lube from a nearby nightstand, and as soon as he wraps a hand around his dick, he lets out a soft, contented sigh. He lets his head fall back, putting his neck on full display while still hiding his identity, short of the blond tips of his hair.

“Feels so good,” he says, stroking his cock up and down. “But it’d feel even better if you were the one doing it for me, wouldn’t it? Knowing you, you’d probably tease me for hours before finally touching me. Look how hard I’d be, all for you. So good to me.”

More gold comes rushing as Sunshine fucks up into his fist. You send some more yourself, telling him to use his other hand to play with his nipples. You’re not sure if he sees the message or not, but he must; before you know it, his left hand is pinching his nipple, giving torturous tugs. 

His actions have you rubbing yourself through your underwear, your panties soaked from what’s playing out in front of you. He looks so pretty - skin flushed, thin body trying to stay composed as he chases his high. 

“Tell me what you’d -- fuck, please -- do with me if I were with you,” he says, obviously slowing down for a few seconds to stave off his orgasm. “Want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

A variety of comments come flooding in. “Would love to fuck that pretty mouth while you touch yourself.” “Bet that tight little asshole would feel good around my cock.” “Gonna come on your face and make you clean it up.”

They all give you ideas, but you have your own addition in mind. “Be a good boy for me and let me sit on your face while I play with your cock.”

As his pace quickens up again, Sunshine groans reading through the comments. “Yeah, use me. Just like that, like I’m your fucktoy,” he says. “Shit, ‘m gonna - gonna come all over myself, make a mess on this pretty skirt I just got. Fuck.”

You’re reaching your own high, and you’ve barely even gotten started. Between knowing your own body and listening to Sunshine get himself off, it’s easy to tip yourself over the edge. Your toes curl as the boy on screen spills onto his stomach and the skirt, letting out a whine in pleasure. 

Using two fingers, he scoops some up and brings it towards his mouth. Although you can’t see it, you just know the sight of him tasting his own cum is gorgeous, even if a bit depraved. You find yourself wondering how he tastes, wishing you were there to help him clean up.

As you clean yourself up, you can hear him telling his viewers that he needs to go now, wishing them a good night and sweet dreams. It seems genuine enough, and for a brief second, you wonder what he’s like outside of his livestreams. Is he really that sweet? That delicate? That submissive?

When you get back to your computer, ready to close it and call it a night, you notice a notification waiting for you. Figuring it must be someone from the live chat wanting to commiserate about having to get off to porn instead of having a partner to hook up with, you open it. What you’re expecting isn’t at all what you get, though.

“SubbySunshine wants to chat with you!”