One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Treehouse - Home

time for lust to have the spotlight! the storyline is a bit janky, since it goes from [The group going to school, dream meeting her friends, nightmare going to class] to [end of the day, lust is going home]

the reason why i say it's a bit janky is because the next chapter is gonna hop back in time to the start of the day again, but with the younger kiddos.

also, some warnings for this chapter: insults, bad parenting, threatening, and transphobia

i'm still writing guys!! surprise :]

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Stepping off the bus, Lust drew herself in, her smile slipping off her face as she stared at her little house. It was squatting between two others, each one identical, yet her house was still somehow far less inviting than the others. Her fingers tightened around her backpack strap, her colored fingertips digging into her palm.

Her bus pulled off with a shriek, leaving her standing alone on the sidewalk. With a sigh, Lust squared her shoulders and started down the path to her front door. It was already opening before she could pull out her keys, her father's face frowning down at her. "Hearts." She scowled at the name, fist clenching around her backpack. "Lust," she snapped back, and slipped under his arm, already stomping away, hell bent on getting to her room before Mitch started another guilt trip rant.

"Hearts, please, can we just talk-"

Her backpack clattered and thumped violently against the stairs, Lust whipping around to glare at Mitch with as much hate as she could muster. "Don't call me that. Do not. My name is Lust. Lust." Hurt flashed in his expression, his lips quivering, and silver lining his squinted eyes. Lust rolled her eyelights. She'd seen it all before. She wouldn't apologize this time.

"Until you at least try to get it right, I'm not going to talk to you about anything," she spat, and turned to snatch her backpack, desperate to leave before her throat closed up completely. Her heels clacked on the wooden stairs, each stomp heavy. A few trinkets tumbled from her shelves as she slammed her bedroom door, drawing her attention to where her makeup and jewelry was supposed to be.

Her eyes welled, tears spilling over, ruining her makeup. The closet door was still open, showing the lack of clothing and shoes. Lust's soul shriveled up at the sight of it, her knees going weak. All of her things were gone. Everything.

Her back hit the door, her shirt twisting up her back as she slid down it, sobs shaking her shoulders. She hated this place.

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Mitch looked worried when she came out of her room for dinner. Wendilynn didn't seem phased by Lust's tear stained face, looking smug even. Hot food sat steaming in a pile on a plate at Lust's seat, a fork already poking out of the jumble. Her fingers were clumsy as she took it, the utensil trembling in her hand. She took a bite, miserable and upset, and dreading the moment Wendilynn opened her stupid mouth.

Blessedly, dinner was silent for another few minutes. And then, it happened. "Hearts. Your father and I have been talking about this for a while now." Lust flinched, staring hard at her grilled chicken, going still. "And we think that it's time for an. Intervention."

Mitch cut in, his voice frustratingly soft. "I'm worried about you, at how. Dedicated to this you're getting. It's.. It might get unhealthy." Like she always did, Wendilynn took over, twisting what Lust knew was actual compassion from Mitch into something that hurt. "It is unhealthy. You're acting ridiculous, playing dress up and getting violent over a nickname. I've made calls to your counselor, and she agrees that we need to get you on anti-depressants."

Lust's frown deepened into a harsh line of sadness, and Wendilynn scoffed. "Don't make that face. Mrs. Dagonal is a good woman, and a perfect therapist for you. And you need therapy, Hearts, and we won't get anywhere if you keep resisting it, and you know that it could help you."

Mrs. D was some bitchy conversion therapist that Lust had be forced into seeing a few years ago. Mitch, bless his soul, had cancelled the appointments entirely when Lust had gotten progressively worse, but Wendilynn had been pissed about it. Her screechy whining was loud enough that Lust could hear her bitching through the walls, calling Lust a 'defective child' and 'retarded' for messing up the opportunity to get 'better'.

Voice dripping with sarcasm, Lust muttered behind her hand, snorting maliciously. "Help me fucking want to die again." Mitch winced at that, but his wife only flushed with anger. "Young man, you watch your tongue! I'm trying to help you, you ungrateful brat, that's all I've ever wanted to do-" Her voice, high and whiney, faded into white noise as Lust tuned her out. She wished Mitch would just get a divorce.

Lust knew her dad loved her. She knew he really did care about her, and she knew for a fact that if it weren't for Wendilynn's poisonous influence, Lust and her dad wouldn't be so torn apart and distant. They would've been happy.

Dinner ended the same way it had last year. They had this talk every year. It was always the same.

On her way out, Wendilynn's rough hand grabbed Lust's upper arm, the hold painful and the fake plastic nails on the woman's hand cut into the bone. Lust gasped, losing her footing as she was yanked away from the stairs and back into the kitchen. She stumbled away from Wendilynn, tearing her arm away with a hiss. "What the fuck are you doing??"

The woman sneered, her vibrant red lips pulling back in a hateful snarl. "You listen and you listen well, you little fuck." A plastic bag was aggressively shoved into Lust's chest. "You go to your room, and you take off all of that shit, and put it in that bag. If I find anymore girl's clothes in your room, I'm going to be reporting you to the police." Spittle hit Lust's pale face, the whispered words hitting like fists on her soul. Fear crept up her spine.

"Do you understand how fucking insane it looks? You have women's panties, bras, lingeries, in your room. You're teachers even tell me that you use the girl's bathroom. The girl's bathroom!" Wendilynn's lip curled with disgust. "I'll make sure the police know you're a sexual predator. Do you hear me, you fucking freak? I'll make sure you don't get the chance to hurt any of those poor girls. Now get out of my sight. I want those clothes bagged and thrown out with the rest of your things. Don't try any funny business. I have all the power here." The woman leaned away, smug and pleased with herself, and all Lust could do was struggle to catch her breath.

Wendilynn finally left, her departing words replaying in Lust's mind over and over. For the second time that day, emotions clawed at her throat, her soul pounding in her chest as another breakdown closed in on her. Wendilynn's threat loomed over her, cold and hard, a slap in the face.

Mitch found Lust still crying on the kitchen floor an hour later, a bruising handprint darkening on her left arm.

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ahhhhh i feel so bad for giving lust the crappy life, but i couldn't help it guys, i write angst, that's just what i do ldsjf;alsdkjfa;sfasdfa

i'm sorry about the hella long break between stories btw!! i'm still writing and i'm working on the requests i got, I've made a shit ton of progress in the Neko!Cross story request, but it is taking time, and school has started again so i may not have as much time to dedicate to it

i'm doing my absolute best though! thank you so much for sticking around so long, and waiting despite my horrible updating schedule