#have a little laith | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asphodelsandpomegranates · 3 months

Text

Experiment 1-1-7-0 (Huggy Wuggy x Reader)

When you had received the plans on “Experiment 1-1-7-0”, you had spat out your tea and had called your boss, Dr. Laith Pierre. He had told you that it was by no means a joke and it was one of the most important experiments that they had envisioned. After more explanations from Laith, you had finally conceded and took full commitment into making “Experiment 1-1-7-0”.

At least two dozen scientists, including yourself, were involved with the experiment. Many people had wanted the credit for this. You felt it was kind of silly as you weren't hundred percent sure if it would work or not.

A couple of months later, “Experiment 1-1-7-0” or Huggy Wuggy as you had named him, much to the other fellow scientist’s chagrin, had been a major success but there were a few adjustments that needed to be made. Huggy was extremely feral, obviously from some of the animal DNA that had been put into his body and had ended up being put into a steel reinforced glass cage to keep you and the others safe.

But you weren’t scared of him.

When you had started your first shift with the experiment, you had gone straight over to the cage where Huggy Wuggy sat, hunched over in a corner. With a little coaxing, you got Huggy out of his shell a little and have him trust you.

One of the head bosses had noticed this and had given you a promotion and put you in charge of looking after Hugy Wuggy. You couldn’t have been happier.

*************

Entering the basement of the factory, you made your way to the clocking machine and then straight to Huggy Wuggy’s cage.

The large, blue furred creature was no longer slouched in a corner but lying on his left side at one side of the cage. You made your way round to that side of the cage and sat down with your legs tucked in to one side.

You tapped your fingers gently against the glass that was encased with steel. Huggy Wuggy jerked a little in his sleep and blinked open his large dark eyes. He moved his crescent shaped head up towards you.

“Morning, sweetie.” you cooed, wagging your fingers in a kind of wave.

Huggy’s big red lips curled into a big smile and began to sit up a little.

“Hey, boy. Did you sleep well?”

Huggy made a loud chirping sound in response and began to shuffle a little closer to the glass wall that divided you.

“Yeah, that’s great.” you said. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

Huggy shook his head in an innocent fashion that made him look adorable, considering the large beast that he was created to be.

Looks could be very deceiving.

“Okay, I’ll go and find someone to get your food. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Huggy suddenly made a stage noise that sounded almost like a whimper. It made you halt as you began to get to your feet. The large furry creature was now pawing at the walls with his yellow glove-like paws.

You stared at him, confused. Then it dawned on you. The only times he acted like this was when you left him after your shift ended. The poor creature often pawed at the glass wall and whimpered as you w9uld say your goodbyes to him. More to the point, Huggy would roar and claw wildly at his cage as you left and the noise would echo throughout the whole factory. One time, he had attacked one of your colleagues sending her to the hospital, all because he missed you.

Now, the poor thing was thinking you were going to leave him again.

“It’s okay, boy.” you reassured him.. “I won’t be gone long, I swear. Just to find someone and get your food. I’ll be back soon.”

Huggy still continued to whimper but relented as you got to your feet and gently made your way over to a coworker.

“Hey, Ross. Can you get me some food for Huggy?”

“Sure. I’ll be about five minutes.”

“Thank you.”

You then made your way back to Huggy’s cage and typed in the key code: 56437.

“Holding cell open.” came the automated voice and you stepped inside.

The moment you stepped in, Huggy’s long limbed arms came around you and pulled you closer to him. Immediately, your ears were swamped with low purring.

It still baffled you how such an odd creature like Huggy could be so sweet and caring?

You reached up and scratched the spot between his eyes, making the purring grow louder.

(The End)

#huggy wuggy #huggy wuggy x reader #Huggy wuggy x you #huggy wuggy x y/n #Poppy playtime

126 notes · View notes

befuddled-calico-whump · 5 months

Text

cw: aftermath of whump, implied abuse, fantasy slavery, violence, manhandling.

based on this prompt by @howls-ghost

"Trite details bore me. I'll leave it to you to complete, and complete quickly," said Prince Acacius.

"I've had enough of your dimwitted blathering. See yourself to the door," said Prince Acacius.

"Remember your place," said Prince Acacius.

Laith was sick of it. Sick of the arrogant little brat prancing around the palace like he was already king. They hated Acacius and his cold, dismissive attitude. The spoiled twat didn't know a thing about running a kingdom, and wouldn't know humility if it bit him on the nose.

The only reason the country wasn't already in ruins was due to the competence of Laith and the rest of the high council. Even the regent, as good a man he was, was taken out of commission by Acacius, forced to keep the aloof young man at his side at all hours for supposed education. Not that Laith believed Acacius absorbed any of it. He was a horrid prince, and he'd make a horrid king.

And Laith intended to do something about it.

It started as something small and reasonable; a daydream about teaching the prince a lesson, of having him whipped for insolence, or beaten in the streets, or simply pushed off the balcony.

But none of those were realistic dreams, and none of those were enough. Acacius needed a punishment that would stick, something scarring, something humiliating.

The thoughts danced across Laith's mind through all their waking hours, turning sharper and more creative with every insult from the rotten prince.

But then, they thought, why bother with a mere punishment? Why not be rid of the arrogant heir for good? Death was too quick for his poisoned heart, but there were alternatives. Slavers in the West and enemies in the North, and either faction would jump at the chance to own the pretty prince. Should Laith's goal be realized, it would do more than sate their need for justice; it would spare the kingdom from a heartless ruler.

They'd lock him in a cell with no sunlight for a year. They'd remove his acrid tongue, put out his disdainful eyes, somehow they'd hurt him in a way that mattered.

They took their time making the arrangements; letters delivered in secret, coded messages, quiet plans and plots to cover the prince's upcoming disappearance. At last, the hour was drawing near. At last, Acacius would get all that he deserved.

But of course, Laith would have their fun with him first.

They came upon the royal in the dead of night. Laith had been making note of Acacius's movements, and by now they knew to expect the young man's midnight journey to the library. Too good to be seen there in daylight hours, when servants were dusting and lesser lords were reading. Too good to even peruse the shelves alongside those he deemed as unworthy.

Laith fell upon the prince as soon as he reached the library doors, wrapping their arm tight around a torso clad in a loose silk shirt, their other hand clamped over Acacius's mouth to dampen his startled cry. The prince made fearful noises beneath their hand, but there was no time to savor the sound. Laith knew they must move swiftly or risk alerting the night watch.

They slammed the prince's head into the heavy oak door behind him. Once, twice, and then their royal prisoner's struggling lessened. Laith forced him to the ground, stuffing a wad of cloth into his mouth and tying it in place with a cord. That same cord trailed down from the prince's head to wind around his wrists, then back up again to circle his throat, forming a makeshift collar and leash to better Laith's control of him. He tugged harshly at the rope, and the dazed prince stumbled to his feet, whimpering softly from behind the gag.

There was no haughtiness in his eyes, only something meek and fearful. It was nearly enough to make Laith second-guess their plans, but their memories of the man they knew Acacius to be strengthened their resolve.

They would not fall for this docile ruse. They knew the truth.

Laith delved deeper into the castle, making for one of the secret passages in the stone that would lead them outside the keep. There was a cottage at the edge of the woods, overlooking the river that ran alongside the castle's walls. A peasant girl had sighted it after Laith offered her a penny to find a covert location. It was perfect; well away from anyone who could hear them, and the river would make an easy path for the slavers' skiff.

They hauled Acacius into the cottage, unable to resist giving the prince a sharp kick in the back that sent him tumbling to the ground. The slavers weren't set to arrive until just before sunrise. Laith had nearly an hour to get revenge for every petty insult that had ever been flung their way.

Laith dropped a knee into the prince's chest, holding his head in place while he removed the gag.

Acacius's eyes were teary and pleading, but Laith refused to let the act sway them. If anything, it only fueled their fire. How dare this impudent brat act like this was unearned? Now safe behind a closed door, Laith let their fury burn, raining fists and kicks down on the prince's helpless form, relishing every muffled cry. No, they shouldn't be muffled. They wanted to hear Acacius plead for mercy.

"N-nnh please... Please don't," the shaky words left Acacius's throat with the balled-up cloth. Laith answered him with another blow, and the prince squeezed his eyes shut. When they opened again, there was a distant look to them, tears trickling from the corners.

No matter. Soon they'd be rid of him for good.

Small whimpers and gasps left Acacius's throat as Laith continued the beating, but aside from a few weak pleas, the prince didn't speak, or even look their way. Like he was only waiting for it to end. Their blows slowed, the enjoyment fading as the royal seemed to detach himself from the moment. Laith huffed. Even bound and beaten, Acacius was still ruining their day.

Ignoring the blank look on the prince's face, Laith drew their knife, cutting away Acacius's clothing. Even if that didn't get a reaction, it served the practical purpose of making things a shade easier on the slavers.

The prince lay very still, his breaths small and shaky as Laith removed the ruined clothing. And underneath the silk... Laith was unprepared for what was underneath the silk.

Old bruises covered Acacius's torso, scars layered beneath, some fresher than others. The wounds didn't stop there; more scars scattered the prince's legs, some framed in a sickly yellow-green.

"What is this?" Laith whispered, the question half-directed at themselves. Acacius didn't answer, staring up at the ceiling with eyes that looked glazed over.

Seeing another wound on their prisoner's shoulder, this one oddly shaped, Laith grabbed Acacius's upper arm and rolled him onto his stomach. The prince answered the action with a startled cry.

"N-no, please, please don't---"

"Shut up," Laith hissed, taking in the prince's back. It seemed the brat had been whipped before, and on more than one occasion by the looks of it. They couldn't say whether the dark feeling welling up in them was more akin to pity, or bitterness that they hadn't been able to witness the lashings themselves.

Starker than the whip scars was the image burned into Acacius's back. An intricate pattern, asymmetrical and varied in color, like its artist had begun months or even years ago and was still perfecting it. The newest mark was still a bright, skinless red, as if it had been smouldering mere hours ago.

Laith let out a disgusted sigh, turning their back on the sniveling prince. It seemed Acacius had been getting what he'd deserved for some time now, but it had done little to improve his attitude. Who had done this to him? Could it have been the regent? Why was pity seeping into them, like poison from a soured wound?

Acacius didn't deserve their pity. Wounded or not, he still paraded the palace ground like a bejeweled goose, hissing and biting at anyone he seemed lesser.

But why? came a small voice inside them. Why put on such an arrogant mask?

It didn't matter. Wounded or not, the prince should have better respected Laith and their peers.

There was a sharp rap on the door, and Laith pushed it open an inch to peer out into the darkness. A pale woman with a shaved head stood on the other side, wearing clothing that was clearly foreign, despite its simplicity.

"Here to collect your gift?" they said, and the woman smiled.

"Aye. The North'll pay a pretty penny for your little heir."

"Wonderful," Laith said, but the word felt insincere. They couldn't let themselves doubt their plans now, the deed was nearly done. They opened the door further. "Take him then. Let's have this over with."

Acacius lay still on the ground, though his hands were trembling. He'd ceased his begging and was now crying softly and hells, Laith couldn't stand to hear it.

They bent over the prince, grabbing a fistful of his hair and roughly stuffing the gag back into his mouth to muffle that damned pathetic noise.

"Take him," they said again, more insistently. "Take him and be gone."

"S'wrong with his back?"

"I don't know." Laith shook their head. "Take him."

"Not a word of me," they said. "You'll make a fortune off him, all I ask is my name and face remain unknown."

"Alright, alright." The woman seized the rope, the leash Laith had formed, and tugged on it, forcing the prince to his feet. Acacius's eyes were teary and pleading, but Laith turned their back on him.

"Your wish is my command," the woman chuckled, leading the prince towards the rocky shore, where her boat lay waiting. A sob escaped Acacius as he passed the threshold.

"Wait." Hells, what were they saying? They wanted nothing more to do with the royal. They needed him gone, but when the prince turned back to look at them, the flash of hope in his eyes wrenched in their gut.

Those damned eyes. Those haughty, arrogant, judging eyes.

"Remember your place," said Prince Acacius.

"Nevermind," Laith said quickly. "Go. Get him out of here."

The woman tugged on the leash, nearly causing the bound royal to stumble. Fresh tears wet Acacius's cheeks, but Laith looked away, pretended not to see.

They could pretend a lot of things. Surprise at the prince's sudden disappearance, sorrow and outrage at his captivity in the enemy North. For themselves, they'd pretend they were satisfied, that they'd never seen Acacius's scars.

And as they watched the skiff disappear on the dark waters of the river, they pretended they had no regrets.

#:) we love some arrogant royal suffering #royal whump #anyways i can no way afford to make this a series lol so it'll probably sit at a one-off for a very long time (if i even write more at all)#ooh honestly if we wanna play a game of 'whump telephone' or pass the page or whatever someone else can write the next part #and then another person can write the next part #and so on #those are fun i do them with my sister sometimes #anyways GREAT prompt thank you howls-ghost #royal whumpee #captivity #past torture #whump fic #fantasy whump #beating #begging

70 notes · View notes

echo-goes-mmm · 6 months

Text

Old Friends (Oneshot) #1

Masterpost

Warnings: briefly implied non-con, off-screen torture

Ugh. What happened? The team… the warehouse… the explosion…

Oh god, the explosion!

Hero bolted upright, his head throbbing. He groaned, screwing his eyes shut. He fumbled for his lamp. But there was no lamp.

He opened his eyes.

He wasn’t in his bedroom at home base.

He was in a dim cell.

Hero was in a dim cell, stripped of all his equipment and chained to a stone wall. In Supervillain’s base.

Fuck.

Steps echoed down the hall.

But instead of Supervillain, a small-framed man limped down the hall with a tray. He looked… vaguely familiar. Or maybe it was a concussion talking.

The man turned to unlock his cell. It was a hand scan opener, which was interesting. Very classy.

He definitely had a concussion.

The man had dark eyebags and even darker hair. He looked like shit, a bruise on his face and his eyes dull. They were purple, so he must be Powered. Still, somewhat familiar.

“Hey,” said Hero, as the man sat down the tray, “Do I know you?”

The man shrugged. He shook two pills from a bottle, and offered them to Hero.

He eyed them. “What are they?”

“Painkillers,” he said, voice hoarse. “Master wants you to take them.”

“Master? You mean Supervillain.”

“Mhm.” He jostled the painkillers in his palm. What the hell? Supervillain was involved, he didn’t have a choice.

He took the pills, and the man handed him a bottle of water. Thank god.

“Are you two enjoying your reunion?” Hero jumped at the voice. He looked up, and Supervillain was just inside the cell, smirking that horrible grin at them.

The man stood up with the tray, eyes downcast. He moved to stand next to Supervillain, who placed a hand on the back of his neck.

“Reunion?”

“Aw, you don’t remember? Little Laith? Of course, he’s just my dog now. Speak, pup.”

“Woof,” said the man, staring at the floor.

What?

Laith was a snarky, arrogant thief, Hero’s first Powered arrest nearly a decade ago. He could literally disappear into shadows, and occasionally teleport through them. What did Supervillain do to make him so… lifeless?

“I- I thought he was in prison.”

“Anything’s possible when you grease a few palms, sweetheart.” Laith flinched.

“You two have fun.” Supervillain pushed off the wall, waving them off. Hero watched him go.

“Laith?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

“If- If I knew you’d end up here- I wouldn’t have arrested you.”

“It’s okay.” Laith turned and left, sealing the door behind him.

___________________

“My team will come for me,” he panted. His entire body was an open wound, pain searing into his nerves.

“No they won’t, sweetheart.”

“Of course they will, there’s a tracker in my equipment, genius,” he spat.

Supervillain laughed. “You mean the one I had my pup plant on the body in your place? You’re dead, my dear, and all those gadgets are in my hands to study.”

“What- that’s not-” his head spun. Supervillain lit up a cigarette, as if he was enjoying a smoke after getting laid instead of after a torture session.

“Including your comlink. Congratulations on helping me take down your team, Hero. I’m sure you’ll see them soon. You’ll be cell neighbors! How fun.”

___________________

There was a commotion down the hall. Hero peered out past the bars. There was a yelp and a firm voice, but he couldn’t make out the words. Eventually the figures came into view.

Supervillain was dragging Laith by the hair, his heeled boots stomping across the stone floor. Hero shrank away from the sight.

Supervillain tossed Laith into the cell across from him, which had to be on purpose. But he didn’t stop there, pulling out a remote and a cattle prod. Supervillain pressed a button, and the hallway and cells lit up with floodlights.

They drowned out any possible shadows Laith could disappear into. Hero had used the same technique to catch Laith all those years ago. He felt sick watching his own strategy used for torture.

Supervillain pocketed the remote, and the cattle prod sparked.

Oh god.

“My dear pup,” he sighed, “you were doing so well.”

“Please, Master,” begged Laith, “I’m sorry!”

It was the most energetic he had heard Laith in the week he spent in this hell hole. And it was spent begging Supervillain for mercy.

Hero screwed his eyes shut and covered his ears. It didn’t help cover up the screaming.

___________________

Laith brought him lunch, after. Just like usual. As if nothing had happened. Laith trembled, the cup of water rattling on the tray.

“Remember when you disappeared just to taunt me when I chased you? You’d make some comment about how I was an idiot or looked like crap.”

Laith sat the tray down in front of him.

“I remember.”

“What did he do to you? You used to be stealing diamonds and Rembrandts and now you're helping that monster.”

Laith glanced behind him. He sat down next to Hero. He tapped at the black choker around his neck, but on inspection it wasn’t a choker at all.

It was a slim metal power-dampener, a model he’d never seen before. A red light blinked at him. The only bulky part was a small box on the side, and Hero knew what it was on sight. A shock component.

“You can’t leave, can you?” Laith shook his head.

“He hasn’t let me teleport for so long… I don’t know if I can anymore.” Laith was thin and ragged, bruises and burns up and down his face and arms. He shouldn’t be doing anything, much less using his abilities.

Hero didn’t have powers, he relied on his tech. Tech that Supervillain now had. He examined the collar. The lock was obviously in the shock component, and was a clear design flaw.

“I could get it off,” he said, “I’m sure of it. A minute with a piece of wire, and we could get out of here.”

Laith jerked away from him.

“It shocked me when I tired,” he said, despair in his voice. “I can’t take it off.”

“No I- we- could do it. C’mon Laith. You never hurt anyone back then, even when you could. Even when it was easier to than not. Don’t let Supervillain use you to murder innocent people.”

“I can't.”

“Please Laith,” be begged. “People are going to die.”

“He’ll kill me if I fail. Or worse.”

“How much worse can it get?”

___________________

Laith came to him a few days later, outside of the normal meal time.

He opened his palm to reveal a paperclip.

“We don’t have much time,” he said, tilting his neck. “He’ll know I opened your door, and he’ll know once it’s off.” Hero set to work.

“What made you change your mind?”

“I- he- he made me have sex with him again.”

“What?” Hero paused.

“Just work!” he snapped.

“What about my com?”

“What about it?” hissed Laith.

“Supervillain can’t have it.”

“It’s in the office, but-” the collar sparked, and he gasped in pain.

“Sorry!”

“-I don’t know if I have two teleports in me,” finished Laith.

“Okay, fine, we’ll just tell the team when we get back.”

“Wha- ‘we’?!”

The collar popped off, but they didn’t have time to celebrate before the hall lit up in floodlights.

Shit.

“Uh oh,” came a voice over the loudspeakers, “did my little doggy forget his collar?”

Laith whimpered.

“Laith! Focus!” said Hero, grabbing his arm.

“There’s- there’s nowhere to go! I can’t-” Laith gasped for air, hyperventilating.

Hero searched around. Surely there was something the floodlights couldn’t reach. But the whole place must have been designed around it, because-

The collar lay on the floor, casting a tiny shadow.

“Laith, look!” His face lit up, as if he was seeing water in the desert. Laith grabbed Hero’s hand and reached into the sliver of shade.

A coldness overcame them both, and Hero immediately felt nauseous.

They landed in an office, clearly Supervillain’s. Laith snatched something small and white off the desk, and they were off again.

They wound up in the middle of an empty lot of overgrown grass.

“I thought,” panted Hero, doubling over. “You didn’t have two. Guess you’re still an adrenaline junkie.” he joked.

It was right up his alley, but Laith didn’t laugh.

Hero glanced over. Laith lay sprawled out, face down on the dry grass.

“Oh god,” Hero turned him over, and checked his pulse.

He was alive, barely, and still clutching the com.

Hero pulled Laith towards him, cradling him close. He put the com back in his ear. Thank god for secondary trackers.

“I need medical!” he shouted into the com.

“Hero?! You’re alive? Wha-” God, he’d never been so happy to hear that voice.

“Just get here, fast!”

Laith whimpered in his lap, twitching. His head lolled, and Hero shifted to support his neck.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy. I promise, it’s gonna be okay.”

taglist: @paintedpigeon1

Bonus: Laith, because I can't stop thinking about him

#yeah sorry i only named Laith cause hes my favorite here. im lazy and its past midnight #my writing #whump #superhero whump #hero whump #supervillain whumper #villain whumpee #pet whump #if u squint #Old Friends

123 notes · View notes

iftheworldfallstopieces · 3 months

Text

My favourite ‘A tempest of tea’ quotes by Hafsah Faizal:

‘Let me bleed for you.’

‘She liked her men a little afraid of her.’

Not really a quote but:

‘Laith Sayaad of Arawiya’ (one of the most beautiful names I have ever come across)

#words #quotes #book quotes #a tempest of tea #hafsah faizal #books

30 notes · View notes

wireheadbird · 1 month

Text

Missing You [1]

(Al-Rawabi) female reader

Note: This fanfic isn't for any specific character so far, I'm thinking of making it into an ongoing series and see how it goes, just go with the flow and see where it takes us. Maybe I'll make it into s Hiba fanfic Warnings: Mentions of death, medication, suicidal tendencies(?), angst, smoking, self blame, brief mentions of self harm Summary: Y/n is the younger sister of Layan, this is the story of her grief basically. Not much action in this one, just a build up if you would. 962 words ____________________________________________________

After my sister…Layan’s incident, people at school no longer spoke about her. Completely ignored her existence and mine as well which at first broke my heart but I strangely found solace in my time alone.

Once the new school year started I had trouble looking at the halls, the classrooms, the field without recalling the memories we had together with our friends. Of course it was the same at home but it was easier to avoid since I either stayed on the rooftop or trapped myself in my room the entire summer. Now, I had to deal with all the flashbacks crashing down on me at the same time. I no longer sat in my usual spot next to my sister’s desk trying as much as possible not to provoke any memories I shoved far away. So instead I took a random seat on the complete opposite side we sat in last year, which happened to be at the back of the class in a corner.

Miss Abeer, our homeroom teacher, made her way inside the class making everyone scatter to their seats. The lesson went on and I could practically feel Miss Abeer’s sympathetic looks digging into my skin, the students started realizing it too as they started looking towards me every once in a while in confusion. “Miss.” my voice rang out in the room, she looked at me with such sympathy. I’ve had enough. “Yes y/n?” she sighed “May I use the restroom, please?” I had already clutched onto my bag and made my way to the door not awaiting a response. I know she wouldn’t dare report it, afraid the previous year’s events will happen once again.

I’ve been out of the spotlight for so long that I get nervous if too many people are watching me, watching every breath I take, every move I make. I never could handle pressure...and Layan knows– knew that. She always helped me, distracted me, but now she’s not here anymore. Left me to fend for myself.

Before I knew it I was inside a bathroom stall reaching into my bag for a pack of cigarettes I stole from Hazem. Breathing in the smoke, I hold it in for a bit feeling it burn and pollute my lungs, I close my eyes and breathe out. Allowing my memory to drift back to the last time I saw her. Full of life, smiling so wide…she was always happier when she went out with Laith, anything to get away from home.

“We’re going to have SOOO much fun! And then when I’m back I’ll make it up to you I promise. We’ll play ludo and watch your favorite show, okay?” she grinned so wide I couldn’t say no to her “Alright alright fine. BUT, you need to promise to bring me my favorite candy on your way back” I folded my arms pretending to be serious. “Deal!” We giggled together at the back of the bus till it came to a stop. “ok , our time to shine~” she did a little dance in her seat and looked at Rania nodding her head as a signal. Rania nodded back to say she understood, she began the process of creating a distraction as Layan slipped out of the bus. She gave me one last look over her shoulder smiling, I waved to her and she waved back then the bus moved forward as she sped off.

BAAM

My eyes shoot open and I jolt off of the floor where I was sitting, accidentally grazing the cigarette-butt on my neck making me hiss in pain. I throw the cigarette in the toilet and flush it quickly, spraying perfume on myself and shoving everything to a hidden compartment I had made in my bag. When I open the door I see one of the girls from my class standing there, the one who slammed her fist on the door so hard I could’ve sworn it was a gunshot. She was really tall and had soft curls resting on her head. She snickers tauntingly at me then leaves out the door.

When I made my way out the bathroom it was the end of the day, so I had gone off to find the bus that I’ve been coming to school with the past few days, or weeks, I couldn’t tell.

______________________________________________________________

In my room, it was quiet. I’ve been lying awake for hours in the dark. Sleep has always been my enemy. Layan had to tire me out completely just so I could get a few hours in. And even then it didn’t always work so I had to take pills for it and she’d always stay by my side till I slept and just talk about anything and everything. What an amazing older sister she was. I haven’t touched them since. Feeling as though I needed to be punished in any way possible, not allowing myself to sleep being one of the few ways. And the easiest, because others got pretty…messy and difficult to clean sometimes.

I hadn’t felt like eating dinner once again either. Feeling as though I didn’t deserve to eat.

Not when Layan can’t eat.

Not when Layan can’t sleep.

Not when Layan can’t be happy.

Not when it was all because of me.

Not when I didn’t stop her from walking right into her death.

Not when I was the one who convinced her to get with Laith.

Layan deserved to be happy, she deserved the world. And yet…I couldn’t give her anything but misery and pain.

“I miss you so much Layan…so much” a sob broke out of me, for the whole night. That's how I spent most of my nights.

Wishing for my older sister to return

next chapter

______________________________________________________________

Starting out this account with a smack to the face :)

#fanfic #al rawabi school for girls #angst #tw death #another world #wireheadbird #i hope you enjoy

8 notes · View notes

andnowanowl · 4 months

Text

Since "Palestine Speaks: Narratives of Life Under Occupation" is suspiciously not available in the US in the form of an e-book, I purchased a physical copy and wanted to share it here for anyone else also unable to get access.

LAITH AL-HLOU

Farmer, day laborer, 32

Born in Bethlehem, West Bank

Interviewed in the West Bank

The first thing we notice as we drive to Laith Al-Hlou's home southeast of Bethlehem is the challenge presented by the roads. Some roads are almost too steep to climb, and others almost too muddy or rocky to navigate. The bottom of our car crunches and scrapes as we creep along toward his village.

Eventually we reach the compound where Laith lives with his family. Laith's house, the family's olive trees, and two other houses belonging to his extended family are surrounded by a short rock wall topped with barbed wire. When we pull up in our car, a dozen or more kids come spilling out to greet us - Laith's children and nieces and nephews. Some wear cracked plastic shoes, some wear no shoes at all.

Laith is a skinny thirty-two-year-old with a wife and five young kids. The seven of them sleep in a twelve-foot by twelve-foot room that includes a wardrobe, a crib for the baby, and twin bunk beds piled with blankets. This is the main room of the family's living space. They also have a small kitchen and toilet, all of which is on the second floor, above a chicken coop.

After a tour of his house, we sit with Laith on plastic chairs outside, and he tells us about the ways his community has changed since 1996, when Israeli settlers first moved near his home. His wife stays close by, and even though she is hard of hearing, she interjects periodically with her own stories.

Laith is one of up to 300,000 Palestinians living in Area C - the roughly 60 percent of the West Bank that is still under full military and administrative control by Israel following the Oslo Peace Accords of 1993.¹ Area C also contains many of the West Bank's Israeli settlements, a collection of villages established by Israeli citizens following the occupation of the region in 1967. Today, there are 400,000 - 500,000 Israeli settlers in the West Bank outside of Jerusalem. The guard tower of a nearby settlement looms above Laith's property as we sit and talk. He tears up as he tells us that pressure from the settlements may force him to someday relocate his family.²

THE DAYS THAT HAVE PASSED ARE BETTER THAN THE DAYS THAT ARE NOW

I was born in Bethlehem in 1982, but I've lived here in my village southeast of Bethlehem for twenty-five years, since I was a little boy. My grandfather brought his whole family here from Bethlehem-my father and my uncle and their wives and kids. My extended family had land here going far back, and my grandfather inherited a piece of it. We have paperwork going back to 1943 that documents our right to these twelve acres and three houses.

The days that have passed, they are better than the days that are now. I remember how much fun it was as a child, taking care of my family's farm and chasing animals in the wilderness nearby, and just living on the land. We went on picnics. It was nice. It was normal. We worked and moved easily with no restrictions. We were happy, with a simple life.

Then, when I was around fifteen years old, the settlers came onto our land. There had been settlements in the area since I was a boy, but none so close. First, we started seeing roads going in sometime around 1996. That same year, the first settlers showed up in trailer homes. There were maybe fifteen to twenty trailers that appeared near our village. These first settlers were just a few families. But they were never without guns - AK-47s, big guns. The first thing they did was come to the village to see if they would have any trouble. They were pretty rough. There were some clashes at first over land. I remember one old man whom the settlers struck on the head - he almost died. They also started building a fence around the settlement and some of our farmland right away. We had a fence around most of our property, and that helped keep the settlers from building directly on our land, but they took the land where our sheep graze outside the fence, about a thousand square feet of grazing land. They also took some of my father's sheep. And they took other villagers' land and sheep when they could.

At one point in 1996, the villagers had a big protest. We set up tents around the village, and there were about a hundred of us protesting the settlers taking our land. There were human rights groups at the protest, and we explained things to them. But it didn't matter. The settlers just attacked us, struck us with their guns. After that protest and some early clashes with the settlers, the villagers here just gave up.

THEY SAID A BULLDOZER WAS COMING

In the summer of 1997, the Israeli military came to my family's home and demolished our sheep pen. It was a Saturday evening, and sixty or seventy soldiers arrived in jeeps. They gathered up my family - I was with my parents, six brothers, and four sisters - and they told us to stay in a single room. We also saw them go to my uncles' houses, which were on the same property. At first they were just securing the area, making sure nobody protested or made trouble.

They said a bulldozer was coming. My father tried to argue with them. He said that the sheep pen was the first floor of what would be a new home that he was building for some of his kids. He needed to build a new structure to house his growing family. But the soldiers told him to be quiet and stay in the room, and then they locked us in. We could see what was happening out the window, and we watched for an hour and a half while they drove the sheep out and knocked down the house. We cried. We had just built the barn the year before, all by hand. It had taken months of work and it was a big investment. We knew the soldiers might come. We'd gotten a demolition order the year before, while we were still building the first floor of the new structure.

It was on our land, but the Israeli authorities said we didn't have a permit to build it. Many people in the village got similar notices that demolition was planned on houses or buildings they'd built without permission from Israel. But the Israeli military only demolished two buildings that day our sheep pen and one other home in the village, the home of some neighbors half a mile away. I'm not sure why they chose our structure. Afterward, we had to take turns sleeping outside with the sheep, to protect them. We live near a wilderness, and there were wild dogs and jackals to worry about. After we cleared away the rubble, there were still a couple of the walls left, so we put up a tarp and that became the new sheep pen.

I remember the feeling I had after that day, a suffocating feeling. Our family was large, it was growing, and we weren't allowed to build. My father wanted to grow the farm and build homes for his children, but he wasn't allowed to. His plan had been to build upward, adding floors to existing structures. The sheep pen was a new structure, and he wanted to build more floors on top of it for his children to live in when they started families of their own. But after the demolition, that was no longer possible.

My family tried again a couple of years later. Around 2000, we bought stone to build a new house on the property. We paid about 60,000 shekels.³ This time, we tried to get a permit to build. There was so much we had to do, so many requests of us-money, negotiating with lawyers, endless paperwork. My father tried three times, but we couldn't get a permit. The stones we bought to build a new house are still on the property today. It's just a pile of marble that's been sitting there for fourteen years.

Many people in the village have gone elsewhere. Some of my uncle's family members who used to live on the property have gone to live abroad. The Israelis, the settlers, it seems like they want us to go away. If we didn't have this land, we'd go back to Bethlehem. It's a better place-it's easier to live there. But if we leave, we won't be able to protect the land, which has been in our family for generations.

WE ARE LIKE PRISONERS HERE

I got married a few years after the demolition on our sheep barn. I needed to find a job to make more money, since my wife and I wanted to start a family. So I found work at a marble company in a large settlement a couple of miles from here, and I worked there for three years. But work stopped and the workers were let go in 2008. Around this time my wife and I were growing our family. We had children, and we needed money. So I began entering Israel illegally to work. I snuck in once to do some work on a construction site. I tried to sneak in a second time, but I was caught by the army. They put me in jail for two months, and I couldn't apply for a permit to work legally in Jerusalem for years.⁴

Since then I've worked around the family home. My family has sheep and goats, but I just take care of the chickens. I have about forty of them, and I get around ten eggs a day. The eggs we don't eat we sell in the market. We also grow most of our own vegetables - cucumbers, cabbage, beans. And we have about three hundred olive trees on the property. We make about eighty gallons of olive oil every year, and we sell what we don't use.

Most days during the week, I wake up at six-thirty in the morning and go to work by seven. Right now I'm working in the olive groves on the farm in the nearby settlement. It's the time of the season when we dry the olives. I actually don't like working in the sun - I get dizzy and I get headaches so my job is to work inside where I help get the olives ready for packing. I usually work from seven to three, but sometimes I get overtime and stay until five. I've also done work in the nearby settlements preparing firewood, making bricks, doing other jobs. I talk to the boss, and he tells me where I should go to find work. In general, I like working in the settlements because I can travel back and forth easily, see my kids more. But the work I get around here doesn't pay much. I get about 100 shekels a day, usually. My friends who go into Jerusalem, they get a little more - 150 or 175 shekels.⁵ I used to go with them sometimes, but you need a special permit, and I haven't been able to get one since I was arrested.

The settlement near my home has about forty or fifty settlers. Then there's a handful of soldiers or private security guards that patrol the area in four or five jeeps. They have a tower set up nearby so they can watch everything. We can't move off our property without them seeing us. There are maybe ten to twelve of us Palestinian men who work in the settlement next door. Me personally, I'm not afraid of the settlers. They know me, I've worked in the settlements, so they go easy on me. But with my kids, some of my other family, some of my neighbors, the settlers can be rough. My family and many of my neighbors feel like they're trapped at home, trapped in the limits of our own land. The settlements are all around us, and they have private security. If you leave your land, security guards will see you and come hassle you. We are like prisoners here in this area.

Sometimes, tourists will come onto this land to have picnics, especially in the springtime. Settlement soldiers will come and surround them and tell them the area's closed off. And for a long time, some settlers would come to our house maybe twice a month and shout at us, tell us to go away. They'd have guns with them, and they'd scare my children. They'd say things like, "If we see you in the street, we will shoot you. If we see you with the sheep over in those fields, we'll shoot you, we'll take you to jail. If you don't stay in the house, we'll shoot." They'd tell the children they couldn't go outside our fence. Now I don't really let my kids leave the property, except to go to school. And my kids have nightmares - they dream of being shot.

But it's actually gotten better. When the settlers first arrived, they were much rougher. Some of those people left, and some of the new people are a lot less threatening. But I remember an episode a while back where some settlers caught a man near the settlement. He was in the fields picking nettles, and some settlers spotted him. They took all of his clothes, and they made him walk home naked. Everyone in the village saw him, and he just kept his head down and walked all the way home. The settlers are nicer now, but they say the settlement is going to expand. It makes me feel like I'm choking. We already feel afraid all the time. I think it'll get worse when they get bigger.

THE BIGGEST PROBLEM IS WATER

We have electricity sometimes through our generator. But gas is expensive. We usually only turn it on around once a week to wash clothes in our washing machine. It's hot now, and we have no electricity for fans. In the winter, we have no heat to keep us warm. When it gets cold, we stay in bed all day under the blankets to stay warm.

The biggest problem for us is water. The pipes run through the settlement, and we're the last in line in the village. During parts of the summer, we hardly ever have water come through the pipes. We have to ask the soldiers at the nearby military base to turn on the water. We have to ask a lot - for days - before they'll turn it on, and then they might turn it on for only a day or two.

We have to buy some water in tanks, and then we get some from a well on the property. The well doesn't have enough water in the summer, so we're buying a lot. Each tank is about 60 shekels and holds a few hundred gallons of water. We also save water as much as we can. The water we bathe with, we'll save and use to flush our toilets. The children all wash using the same bucket of water. There's very little waste.

At the moment there are about thirty of us in the family living on the property, and about ten in the family who are temporarily living elsewhere for work. Then there are the animals and the olive trees. We have to make priorities. We make sure the children have enough water first, then the adults, then the animals. I don't think there will be enough water this year for our olive trees. We won't see any olives from them this year.

At the nearby settlements there's no problem with water. People living there don't have to have tanks on their roofs or anything, they get enough from the pipes. The settlements look like heaven to us. They even have swimming pools there.

And we still can't build on our property. My father has paperwork that goes back to 1943 that proves ownership of twelve acres, all the land we live on, and three of the structures on the property. They won't demolish those. But anything else we try to build on the property, they'll demolish if we don't have a building permit. Five years ago my father was going to build a small house for just him and my mother. He tried to do it without a permit, since it's so hard to get one. He got a demolition order immediately. So he turned the foundation he'd started into a small chicken coop. Next we tried to build another floor on the house he'd been living in. We built it, but we got a demolition order. The army gave us the order three years ago but haven't showed up with bulldozers yet. We don't know when they might come, but we expect it all the time.

WE LOVE THIS LIFE

We have two boys and three girls, our youngest is one and a half. We have one room where we all sleep, and then we have the kitchen. Still, it isn't enough, and we can't build. The kids, they need a place to run around and play. There's no electricity, so they can't even watch TV. They spend a lot of time fighting each other.

There are things I love about living here. It's not the city. It's not overcrowded. It's simple to make a life here - we raise animals, live off the land. We love this life. It's normal for me. We are coping with the situation, we are coping with the settlements. We have lived through hardships from the beginning. I'd like to move, but I can't leave my land here. So if I go, what is the nature of my life? I work in the settlement, so it is very difficult for me to move and find work. My land, my family, my father and mother are all here on this land. Even if I move, my parents will not go.

But still, we feel like we are suffocating. If the settlements keep growing and surround our property, our lives will be hell. Right now, we are depressed from being worried all the time. I can't describe my feelings. We feel inferior, and no one helps. The settlements will only grow, and so will my family. Right now I'm just trying to make money, so that we can have a better life. For my children, I hope they live in safety, that they are not hurt or attacked, that they study and are good at school. Knowledge is the last thing that remains for us to achieve, and I want them to study at university. People we know in Bethlehem, they have water, electricity, it's a much better life. A number of villagers have moved already-they've gone out looking for something better. Someday we might move. Here, there's no room to build and grow.

---

Footnotes

¹ Following the Oslo Accords in 1993, the West Bank was carved up into three fragmented administrative areas. Area A is made up primarily of large cities and is fully controlled by the Palestinian Authority. Area B comprises some 440 villages and is under Palestinian civil control and Israeli security control. Area C includes mostly rural areas and numerous Israeli settlements. Area C is fully controlled by the Israeli military.

² We have changed names and obscured details about this narrator's location out of concern for the safety of his family.

³ At the time, 60,000 shekels equaled approximately US$15,000.

⁴ Palestinians in the West Bank need special permits to enter Jerusalem. Some permits are granted on a one time only basis for special reasons, and some are granted for access to work in Israel. The application process can be difficult and expensive, so many Palestinians risk imprisonment by entering the city illegally.

⁵ 100 shekels equals approximately US$29. 175 shekels equals approximately US$51. (Bloggers Note: As of right now, 100 shekels = US$27.)

#palestine speaks #palestinian voices #book exerpt #strike for palestine #thank goodness for text scanner apps #part 3 of 16

12 notes · View notes

hyba · 3 months

Text

UPDATE: Murder in Heliopolis, Second Draft - Back to yWriter

Moving back to yWriter for Murder in Heliopolis! I was getting a little overwhelmed with the idea of having to edit chapters and add in more scenes and POVs - the whole book is well over 100 pages on my document at the moment and I just want to tackle it step by step.

I saw someone suggest that it's best to edit by just rewriting the whole thing. As you go along, you edit and add and remove and change whatever you need to. So, that's what I'm trying. Even if unsuccessful in the long run, this is already a big success for me because it got me over the barrier of just getting started.

As you can see, that's 900 words I've written today -and I'm just getting started! Over half of that is completely new content, too, so I'm super excited for that.

It's going to take a little bit of time to update it with all of the characters and locations, but I think it will be worth it when I'm done. So far, it's just Laith:

I think the best part about being active on writeblr again - and even on IG as a writer, and on Pinterest as a writer, and on Royal Road as a writer/reader - one of the best things about being on all of these communities again is just the extremely infectious writing bug you catch when you see all of these fiction writers talking about their stories, gushing passionately about their characters, and making progress while having fun!

I've really missed that, and it's good to be back among that kind of atmosphere.

If you haven't already, check out my directory page for Murder in Heliopolis over on my blog. You can read the full first draft on Royal Road. And you can always learn more about the book by checking out the tag #murder in heliopolis either here or on my author blog.

Tag list is open! Just ask to be added, either here or on IG ^^

I've opened up a call for alpha readers! You can learn more about that here, but I also have a post coming out about that right here on my writeblr tomorrow.

#murder in heliopolis #solarpunk #amwriting #writing #books and reading #writing update

6 notes · View notes

whumpshaped · 6 months

Note

I feel like Beck would relate a lot to Laith from my oneshot Old Friends

Let me count the ways:

Trapped in the lair of a much scarier person (Supervillain)

Stripped of all power

Just a little guy caught up in something he wants no part of

Tortured for fun and for punishment (well.. with a cattle prod. hopefully helle hasn't thought of that yet)

Not allowed anywhere except for dirty work

Called a pet/puppy by his captor/"my dear"

Half-starved

And completely dead inside! Just like you, Beck!

Of course, there are a few differences. Laith escapes and Beck definitely isn't getting away from Helle anytime soon :)

(I have Laith brainrot and I think Helle would get cute aggression from this pathetic wet cat. He used to be so sassy and now he'll say 'woof' on command)

"That's..." Beck frowns. "I don't like that..." He knows you're right. That's precisely why he hates it.

"I love Laith," Helle says immediately. "Exactly my type. I do not need any further information, I am whisking him away."

#asks #echo-goes-aaa #at my beck and call #beckett #asks for beckett #helle #asks for helle

16 notes · View notes

daughterofmytribe · 9 months

Text

Please share and support this fundraiser! Help a family in need.

“Let me share a little insight into the father and mother. During Eid day, while many of us celebrate with friends and family, indulging in the best of foods, this couple, even in their old age, devoted their time to creating leaflets urging the importance of making dua for our fellow brothers and sisters who can't celebrate Eid with their families due to being imprisoned. They selflessly handed out these flyers on the streets and parks after Eid prayers, thinking about their brothers and sisters locked up against their will. They’re an elderly couple still striving in Dawah, while we have youth who care solely about what they will be wearing on Eid day.

11 notes · View notes

coldshrugs · 1 year

Text

they live here now ☀

#ffxiv #io laithe #io/estinien #when you and your partner are being casual and chill but also must have weapons on you at almost all times #anyway me and the homies have been talking about places our wols would live if housing was available there #and while io does love her simple little place in more dhona thavnair is so close to her HOME #near enough to feel almost nostalgic but far enough not to cause melancholy #and post-enw msq has basically solidified that she's spending almost all her time there now T^T #okay but this was so fucking hard to pose with her in that tunic #the dagger. the hood #i give this a 7/10 for effort

51 notes · View notes

torturedgod · 10 months

Text

my new favourite piece. (?) not exactly fully painted, mostly because this intimidated me a little bit, but i like how it turned out, nonetheless. another drawing for the laith and milton pile. i love these boys so much (sobs)

this is a redraw of something i made in early 2022 (mid march). a friend of mine really liked that drawing, and continues to like that drawing... but i really really hated it soon after i completed it. so, after a whole year and three months, i have redrawn it... it was fun.

laith is a doll and milton loves him very very much. i <3 quiet and soft intimacy

ins

twt

#torturedgod #torturuart #art #myart #my oc #oc #gay oc #dollcore #cutecore #sweet #digital art #digital painting #illustration #digital illustration #i love you #gay

11 notes · View notes

asphodelsandpomegranates · 1 month

Text

Missing You Terribly (Huggy Wuggy x Reader)

(A/N: This story is completely based on the video that Mob released of Huggy Wuggy escaping the factory and entering a neighbourhood).

Clicking a button on the remote, you turned off the T.V. and slumped on your sofa. How come there was never anything good on?

You wouldn’t have had this problem if you had agreed to take a fortnight off work. But Laith Pierre, as always, wouldn’t back down. So, you agreed. In a way, it was nice but it meant having to be away from Huggy Wuggy. It killed you having to say goodbye to the big fluffy guy, who really did not like this new small development. You remembered his small whimpers and horrid sound of his claws against the glass wall.

A part of you wished that you could have taken him home with you. That would have been an interesting discussion with your bosses.

You sighed again and decided then and there that you would go to bed and dream of your monstrous lover who was cooped up miles away in a factory.

As you got up, the phone rang. You glanced between your phone and the clock on your mantle. Who the hell was calling you at this time of night? You made your way over to the phone and answered.

“Hello?”

“Oh, (Y/N). Thank god, you answered.” came the anxious but relieved reply.

“Um…who’s this?”

“It’s Avery from work.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry, Avery. Um, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry to ring you so late but…we have a problem.”

An odd tingle presented itself in the pit of your stomach at this. “What problem?”

There was a long pause before you got an answer.

“Huggy Wuggy has escaped.”

Coldness enveloped in your veins when you heard those words. “Huggy…Huggy escaped? How?”

“A delivery came in earlier on and somehow he’d gotten out and escaped through the bay doors.”

Careless fuckers. “How long has he been gone?”

“Only an hour.”

“An hour?!” you screeched. “And you’re only just calling me, now?”

“Laith and Mr. Elliott don’t know about me calling you. They didn’t want you to know about Huggy’s escape but you know about Huggy better than any of us. Is there anywhere that Huggy would go–.”

“Huggy has never left the factory before.” you interrupted. “He’s out there on his own, in an unfamiliar environment. He could go anywhere.”

It was then that something in the background caught your attention. The sound of something breaking…in your garden. You gently pulled back the curtain and peered out into the garden. The neighbours’ automatic light was on and it dimly lit up your own garden. Your eyes raked over every inch of your garden, expecting to see a dog or a cat but what you actually saw was four or five times bigger than any dog, with blue fur and sun-yellow paws.

The blue furred being was laying low but you could see him. It was almost as if he wanted you to notice him and no one else.

“(Y/N)/” Avery’s voice cuts the silence making you jump.” “So ,what do we do?”

“It’s all right, Avery. I think I know where heis.”

“What? Where?”

“Never you mind.” just make sure they keep looking for Huggy and make sure not to raise Pierre’s hackles. Thank you, Avery.”

“Okay. we’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll call back when I can.” and you put the phone down.”

You hurried to the back door and opened it. Slowly, you stepped outside ignoring the cold, April night air.

“It’s okay.” you mumbled, keeping your voice low. “It’s just me. You can come out now.”

A long blue limb slipped out into the open followed by three other limbs, a long lanky body and a large, crescent like head. A cooing purr left Huggy’s lips as he stared down at you.

“Hello, sweetie.”

Huggy chirped back at you and crawled his way over to you. With a happy purr, the big creature rubbed his head against yours. You giggled and rubbed your hands through the soft fur.

“Come on. Let's get you out of the cold.”

Huggy made a noise like he was agreeing to your wishes. You led him inside and closed the door.

The kitchen and dining room was a little small and a little much for Huggy Wuggy. His long, lanky limbs knocked into the chairs, toppling them over.

“Easy, easy, boy.” you cooed, hurrying over to his side. It was a new environment for him so it was obvious he would be a little skittish. But the moment you were at his side, he seemed to calm down. “I’m here. It’s okay, you’re safe, now.”

Huggy chipped and cooed as you petted him.

“How did you get here? How did you know I was here?”

Huggy cooed and then began to sniff at your neck.

He…had been able to find your scent?! Fuck, he was clever!

Huggy chirped again as he continued to nuzzle you.

“You good boy. Come on, let’s go into the living room where it's more comfortable.”

You took one of his paws and led him into the other room.

**************************

Three hours later…

There came a knock on the door that startled both you and Huggy from your sleep. Huggy began to growl but you shushed him as you sluggishly got up to answer the door.

Outside stood Laith Pierre with several men in security uniforms and tranquilizer guns. Laith looked annoyed.

“Is this all really necessary?” you huffed.

“Absolutely.” Laith responded in a snippy tone.” Now, where is he?”

“In the living room, but–.” you held yourself in the doorway, stopping Laith and his men from getting inside. “He’s quite calm even though he was woken up by you. Don’t make a scene.”

“(Y/N). experiment 1-1-7-0 is now in a different environment. He’s dangerous and will–.”

“It’s fine with me. It’s not my fault that you and your staff cannot survive without me. I’ve only been away from the factory for three days and you let him escape. This is on you, Mr. Pierre. You're lucky no else found him. Right now though, you are starting to cause a scene.”

Laith Pierre clicked his tongue in an annoyed fashion. He glanced around at the street. True, there were no neighbours out on the pavement, or at their doors or peeking through windows but one wrong move and everyone would be piling out to see.

“Does Mr. Ludwig know about this?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, that’s good.” you nodded. “For you, at least.”

Laith Pierre’s eyes hardened at this. The two stared at one another, not backing down.

“Now, here’s the deal,” you said, folding your arms over your chest defiantly. “Call off your little goon squad and get back to work. I’ll bring Huggy Wuggy back to the factory with your van in a more humane way and make sure he’s safe and well. Then I’ll be back at work in two days. Right?”

“I’m not going to–.”

“Do not tell me otherwise. Or I might just let this skip to Mr. Ludwig. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Pierre was quiet as though he was thinking over your words. You could have sworn that you could see a hint of fear in his eyes. A thrill of delight bubbled in your chest at the thought of swanning up to your head boss’ office and telling him of your co-workers' blunder on your day off.

“Fine.” he said, finally, before turning and calling over to one of his goons and whispered something to him. The security guard or whatever nodded and proceeded to call off his team from your home. Laith then glanced back at you with a look of annoyance. “You have at least two hours to get him back to Playtime Co..”

And he slapped a small set of keys in your hand and left with his little minions.

Closing your front door, you headed akcinto the living room to find Huggy Wuggy crouched and curled up by your sofa. He looked scared.

“It’s okay, Huggy. They just want to take you home. Back to the factory.”

Huggy let out a little whimper, shuffling back.

“I know, sweetie. Whilst I do want and like having you here, it will be safer for you to be back in the factory. I don’t want anyone to hurt you or take you from me for their own selfish needs.” you moved closer to him. “They won’t hurt you. I won’t let them, I promise I'm gonna take you back. It’ll be just the two of us.”

Hugyy Wuggy made a low growling sound like he was disgruntled by your words but to go.

“Come on, sweetie. I’ll be with you.”

You leaned up and gave him a kiss on his fluffy cheek. Gently, you took hold of one of Huggy’s paws and led the huge creature out of your home. Surprisingly, there was no one outside, no neighbours or a large crowd of Playtime Co. employees. But there were two.

Laith Pierre and Avery.

Both men were waiting patiently as you brought out Huggy into the open.

Spotting them, Huggy began to growl in a threatening manner but you eased him, directing his attention on you as you led him on to the van sitting at the bottom of the driveway. You led him to the back door and opened them.

“Come on, darling. In ya go.” you cooed, ushering Huggy Wuggy in the van. Carefully, you watched him crawl in like a spider crawling into a little nook. Avery came over, rather tentatively.

“Want me to lock up?”

You nodded, throwing him your house keys and turning your attention to Huggy who was now almost squashed in the van. His eyes were round and almost teary.

“It’s okay. We’ll be going home soon. I’ll be up front in a minute.”

Slowly, you closed the door. Thankfully, Huggy didn’t react at all. It seemed as though Huggy wanted to be on his best behaviour for you.

You then handed round to the driver’s side, just as Avery came up. He handed you back your keys and then headed back over to Laith Pierre, who was still watching the whole scene unfold before him.

Not saying a word, you climbed into the driver’s side, turned on the ignition and drove off with Huggy Wuggy safe and sound.

(The End)

#huggy wuggy #huggy wuggy x reader #huggy wuggy x y/n #huggy wuggy x you #poppy playtime #poppy playtime huggy wuggy

20 notes · View notes

tometalk · 3 months

Text

Read 2/1-2/2

Four Stars

I enjoyed Hafsah Faizal's previous duology The Sands of Arawiya and I have been eagerly anticipating A Tempest of Tea since its announcement several years ago. I always feel a little trepidation when books are compared to Six of Crows, it just became so popular that any book with even a hint of a heist had Six of Crows slapped on as a comp title. A Tempest of Tea really delivered in the right ways for me. There's a heist, there's a lovable but morally gray crew, and there's some fun twists throughout the way. Add in some vampires and I'm fully sold on the concept of this book!

Arthie was a great protagonist. She is the owner of a tea shop that is often on the wrong side of the law due to nature of the tea she sells. Arthie is a lot of fun, she's highly intelligent and always have a trick up her sleeve. One of the first few scenes of the book where we see her outwitting the people ransacking her shop was so tense and I adored seeing her smarts shine through so early on. I also enjoyed slowly discovering her secrets throughout the book, although I do feel there was a twist that felt quite easy to spot early on. I really enjoyed Jin, Arthie's adoptive brother. He's a charmer and I loved all his interactions with another major character, Flick. Flick's storyline was maybe my favorite of the main characters. I really enjoyed her growth throughout the book. Rounding out the our heist crew are Matteo and Laith. I have opinions on both but they're quite spoilery so I'll have to simply stop at they exist you'll have to form your own opinions about them.

While the majority of this was very fast paced there were a few moments where I felt the flow of the story got a little odd and moments that dragged despite the action that was happening. I was also just not into Arthie's romance in this book. I felt like it occurred way too quickly and did not feel organic at all. While I wouldn't classify this currently as having a love triangle because one of the character's interest did not read as anything more than lightly flirty for most of the book, I do think at the end there are two characters who seem to be set up as potentially both being love interests for Arthie in the next book. In contrast I was 100% here for every interaction between Jin and Flick and I do honestly think the book would have read much better if they were the only characters displaying romantic feelings, at least in this installment. Part of that is because Jin and Flick are shown to have a history that Arthie simply did not have with the characters set up to be her partner. I would have needed more time and slower development to even start to believe in Arthie's romance.

All in all this was a great read and I had lots of fun. I cannot wait for the second book!

#booklr #review #book review #a tempest of tea #reading #tometalk #4 stars

2 notes · View notes

echo-goes-mmm · 3 months

Text

Old Friends #3

Masterpost

Note: Charlie, the doctor, uses they/them pronouns.

Warnings: mentions of stitches, implied past non-con, mentions of violence

In the field, he was Techmaster. At base, he was just Theo.

“I can do my own stitches,” he protested.

“Are you a doctor?” asked Charlie. They tugged the suture line.

“I’ve done plenty on myself before.”

“That still doesn’t give you an M.D.”

Theo knew a losing battle when he saw one. “How’s Laith?”

“Stable,” they said, tying off the knot. “He’ll live.”

He hesitated.

“Just between you and me,” said Theo, voice going low. “Nightclaw forced him into sex.”

Charlie paused. “I can’t run any testing without consent, but I’ll do a check for active bleeding.”

“Thank you.”

___________________

Theo scrolled through the information, bank records, auto registrations, and “donations” filling the screen.

He could see the reflection of Mateo hovering behind him. He wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was.

“What?” snapped Theo.

“Just checking on you.”

“I don’t need to be checked on.”

Mateo, known as Guardian to the public, stepped down onto the floor. “Right. What are you working on?”

Theo sighed, the swivel chair turning slightly as he slumped in his seat.

“Laith’s court transcript at sentencing doesn’t match the audio recording. The recording matches his memory, but the transcript doesn’t.”

“So he really was sentenced to thirty years?”

Theo turned abruptly. “You were listening in?”

Mateo sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

“What did you hear?” he demanded.

“Everything,” admitted Mateo.

Theo turned back to the computer, guilt swirling in his gut.

“I won’t say anything,” he promised. “I won’t tell him I know.”

“Good. He wouldn’t take it well.”

There was a pause. Mateo leaned over to look at the screen’s text.

“What do these have to do with our case?”

Theo highlighted a section of text. “See this deposit? It’s from a brand new account, into a certain court transcriptor’s savings. And these luxury cars went to a series of prison guards. And a generous donation to a judge’s cancer foundation. I doubt that it actually made it into the charity’s hands.”

“So Nightclaw got the records changed. And paid off everyone who would notice.”

“Exactly. He didn’t want anyone looking for Laith. Even Wikipedia edited the listed sentence a couple years later, citing the transcript, and news channels and papers made revisions to match.”

Mateo whistled low and long. “Impressive. So what do you want to do?”

Theo rubbed the bridge of his nose. His eyes were getting dry from staring at the screen.

“I don’t know. The timing of the bribes suggests he was in prison for at least a little while. I’m tempted to just forget about it. Time served and all.”

Mateo nodded. “I’d do the same. Thirty years is ridiculous.”

“Knock knock,” called Beatrice from the doorway. She was in her armor, which was unusual considering the down time.

“Hey,” said Mateo, turning. Theo raised a hand in greeting and kept working. He was attempting to hack into Nightclaw’s system, but it was slow going.

“You should be resting, Theo.”

“I am resting. I’m sitting down.”

“Uh huh. Did you learn anything while you were with Nightclaw?”

Theo pulled up the file they had on Nightclaw’s current plans. It was pitiful, just a few lines of text.

“Nothing important,” he admitted. “Just that he’s more sadistic than we guessed. Oh, and he has a new model of power dampeners. They deliver shocks, but they’re easy to pick if you aren’t the one wearing it. I’m sure that will change soon.”

“I heard about the burns on our prisoner,” said Beatrice, her reflection on the screen nodding.

“He’s not a prisoner. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That we know of,” she pointed out. “It could be a ruse.”

“I don’t think so-”

“It isn’t-” said Mateo and Theo at the same time.

Beatrice shrugged. “If you say so.”

Theo turned around in his chair, leaning forward, shoulders tense. “He wasn’t working with Nightclaw willingly. He was a slave, Beatrice.”

She looked at him, her gaze steady. “Are you certain?”

___________________

Laith sat up in bed, wiping away his furious tears. Shame and disgust flooded him. What he wouldn’t give for a hot shower.

The door opened again. He tucked his head into his knees. He didn’t want to see Techmaster again.

“I thought I told you to go away,” he muttered, bitter.

“Not that I’m aware of,” said the person, voice light but deadly.

He looked up.

Warrior, the warrior, looked back at him, her green eyes as intense at the rest of her. Her armor was gold with red details, sleek and more intimidating up close than the news broadcasts made it seem.

To make matters worse, she was wearing her helm and her staff was in her hand.

She never stabbed anyone with the blade on top, allegedly, but it looked razor sharp.

Laith froze.

Warrior strode forward, towering over him. She must be at least six-foot-three.

He couldn’t help but tremble.

“Tell me about Nightclaw.” Her tone was like a suggestion, but it was phrased as an order. He knew better than to challenge her.

“What do you want to know?” he said, resigned to an interrogation.

Warrior tilted her head, her long blonde hair shifting. She looked him up and down, cataloging his injuries.

“His plans, obviously.”

Laith’s blood ran cold.

“I don’t know the specifics,” he said. “Just that he wants power. World domination, the usual.”

Warrior raised a brow. “Everyone knows those things.”

“I really don’t know his plans. If I could tell you I would.”

“Would you?” she challenged.

“I- what do you want from me?” he protested weakly. “I was his plaything, not his strategist.”

“Tell me about that, then.”

Laith squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don’t make me,” he whispered.

Warrior could probably crush his bones with two fingers, but he had to try.

He heard the sound of metal clinking, and he cracked open an eye. Warrior had collapsed her staff until it was just a dagger, and she clipped it to her belt. She took off her helm, and sat on the end of the bed, holding it in her lap.

___________________

She considered him. He didn’t look like a dangerous person, but looks could be deceiving. Still, there was honest terror in his purple eyes, and his body was splashed with violence. Deep dark undereyes betrayed exhaustion, and Laith’s positioning screamed despair.

He looked so small. Weak.

Laith closed his eyes. “Please don’t make me,” he pleaded. She needed a different technique if she wanted answers.

Beatrice put her staff away and sat on the end of the bed. He looked at her, faint confusion on his face.

“Is Laith your real name?” she asked, coaxing cooperation.

He nodded.

“I heard that he shocked you.”

“Yeah.”

“Often?”

“Uh huh.”

Beatrice waited patiently. It was amazing how silence could encourage sharing.

Laith licked his dry cracked lips. “He beat me,” he said simply. “All the time. He’d hold me by my hair and use a metal rod sometimes. But mostly he just used his hands.”

Beatrice nodded along.

“He liked it whenever I begged him to stop,” continued Laith, “He called me his dog. And-” his voice cracked, and she waited for him to keep going.

But Laith shook his head, refusing to voice his thoughts.

Beatrice had heard enough, anyway. Her gut told her Theo’s hunch was right.

“And you don’t recall anything about his plans?” she asked, as gentle as she could manage.

“No.” Laith rested his head back on his knees.

She stood up. “If you remember anything, even if it’s small, let me know, okay?”

Laith hesitated.

“There might be something,” he admitted. “I don’t know-”

“What is it?”

Laith looked down at the bed sheets. “He- he had me get him some uranium.”

Panic flared in her chest. “What for?” Please don’t be nuclear bombs.

“It was a while ago. I thought it was just for fun,” he explained, too slowly for her liking. “His fun, anyway. He was developing new power-dampeners.” He picked at the one on his ankle.

He looked up at her, and must have read the confusion on her face. “They’re made with uranium. I don’t know why or how they work, but-” he shrugged. “He does. He was making new ones all the time.”

“What kind of new ones? Was there a pattern?” She prodded, alarmed.

“Smaller, I guess. Ones that weren’t bands or cuffs. I don’t know anything more. Does that help?”

“It does. Thank you.” She smiled at him, and his face turned from open to closed in a flash.

“Whatever,” he said, flippant.

“I’ll let you rest.” She stepped away, and with her super hearing, heard his sigh of relief.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @loserwithsyle

#behold! names! and plot!#3/5! two more chapters to post and one to write! (yeah the finale is already typed and ready to go)#my writing #whump #old friends #villain whump #villain whumpee #hero caretaker #hero carewhumpee #hero whumpee #hero whump

36 notes · View notes