#audaciiae

"hm? oh, don't worry! i've taken care of it, most of this blood isn't mine! shame about my glasses!" He pulls them off for a moment, looks at the cracks, shrugs, and places them right back on his face. Should he explain? He really doesn't want to worry Victor too terribly. With a hum, he says, "oh, it wasn't anything, victor, really, someone had come up here but i took care of it! did you sleep well?"

His expression softens, just a little bit.

"we won't be able to use much of him i'm afraid, but most of the organs are still in tact, i'd imagine! perhaps we could use some of those." Percy hates to let anything go to waste. And to get rid of the body that was currently residing in the other room Percy was sure he'd have to dismember it. He didn't see how else he'd get it out of here without someone seeing.

Percy clucks his tongue and leans over, once again pressing a light kiss to Victor's lips.

they say that they accidentally flagged your account but they're actually just a scammer.

Ik that I'm using UN relevant hashtags but I wanna be sure ppl see this and don't fall for it like I did the first time it happened to me

"Oh?" Scott feels a burst of panic spike through him. He's been having these feelings about Shane. They'd been building slowly, soft flutterings every time he learned something new about him. He'd tried to convince himself that it was just friendship and ignored the fact that his gaze tends to linger when Shane's not looking.

Fucking Montreal. Fucking Shane Hollander. Fucking Rose Landry. Fuck this whole fucking city.

Ilya's jaw is tense, teeth grinding down into his mouthguard as he skates towards the puck. He hasn't felt this angry in a very long time. His knuckles are practically itching from the desire to punch someone. He's already faced a penalty for mouthing off to the referee and has wound half the Montreal team up to the point of a brawl almost breaking out.

All he sees everywhere is their fucking photos. The happy couple, they're so in love. It's stupid. Fans have pictures of Rose and Shane, holding them up to the ice as a weird tribute. It's not just the relationship. It's the fact that he had left. Ilya had been on the verge of being vulnerable and this - this is the perfect example of why he shouldn't. Letting someone in is weak. They will always leave. Fuck him. Fuck everything about Shane Hollander.

Cove wouldn't call it a prayer, but maybe it qualified. He's not even sure he knows how to pray, really, nor does he really want to know how. Nor does he really want to pray in general, really. What's said is said out of loneliness, out of sheer desire to be able to talk to someone instead of his notebooks.

"i-if, it's not. t-too much t-trouble, some c-company would, uh. b-be nice," he mutters, to himself, to the empty room, to... "i-if you're not b-busy... rotating th-the sun. or. wh-whatever."

"Всё должно было закончиться иначе -" The words fall from Ilya with a little growl of frustration. It was supposed to be casual fucking. Time spent together to release tension. Not falling in love. Love wasn't part of the agreement.

And yet, it had happened. He knows that feeling in his chest isn't just fondness or friendship. It's more. But it shouldn't be there. He can't be outwardly gay. Not only because of the hockey team, but also because of Russia. It's too dangerous. His family disowning him would be the least of his worries. So he has tried his very best to pretend those feelings don't exist whilst daydreaming about the way Isaac smiles.