#guess who's feeling stressed and depressed right now

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[womanmanipulator]

prove your love

spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

synopsis: lila gives your boyfriend heart eyes. when he’s assigned to stay over at her place you’re pissed. when spencer comes home, he makes sure to show his love for you. SMUT!!! minors dni

warnings: dom/sub, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), piv, various positions, overstimulation, pet names such as trouble, sweetheart, love, etc. very cheesy.

~

you slip your heels off in the hall with an aggravated huff. ‘look on the bright side, the case is over.’ your brain tries to tell you but the many sights and experiences of lila disrespecting you and glaring at you wasn’t going to leave your brain anytime soon. meanwhile, spencer got the opposite treatment, compliments, heart eyes, and lingering handshakes the entire time. she even slipped him her number, that little—

“hey,” spencer says, knocking you out of your thoughts. he can tell your brains conjuring something up. he can practically see the cogs turning in your head. “what’s got you so worked up?” he asks, taking a step towards you. his hands settle on your hips then travel to your lower back. he smiles down at you.

“nothing.” you dismiss, light and airy. trying to act unbothered. “why do you think i’m mad?” you question back, a little too defensive for your liking. “are you asking me to profile you?” he grins. you don’t get the chance to speak before he starts, “for starters, you practically ripped your heels off and threw them, you’re all tense, your fists were balled up and i can tell your thinking hard about something.” he exaggerates.

“you’re wrong because i am perfectly fine.” you state matter of factly. brushing his hands off you and walking to the bedroom. he follows after you. “holding in emotions, specifically anger, can have detrimental effects on one’s mental health. the constant internal struggle to suppress emotions can lead to even more stress, anxiety and even depression.” spencer explains. you just hum in response, searching in your closet for something comfortable, your mind doesn’t stop running about stupid lila though. he watches you. it wasn’t uncommon, he loved to observe you. most of the time it was just to see your pretty face while you were in thought but other times he liked to study your behavior and learn your routines. spencer liked to do it with you.

“you’re staring,” you comment. “i can’t help it.” he flirts. “oh please, did you tell lila that too today?” you let slip. you flush. glad you aren’t face to face with spencer right now. “that’s what this is about?” he chuckles. “cmere,” he says. you stumble over to the bed and he pulls you onto his lap. “you know i love you right?” he says. you nod. not looking at him. “so much, like i am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you, or whatever bella said.” he makes a twilight reference. you were the one who forced him to watch it. you giggle a little, meeting his eyes. he smiles. “there’s my girl.” he murmurs. your heart swoons. his hands settle on your waist and he leans in. you kiss, it’s almost like a breath of fresh air. when he pulls away, still keeping close he speaks. “i think i need to prove how much i love you, hmm?” he hums. “you don’t need to.” you mumble. “but i want to, please?” he pleads. you don’t protest for long. “okay.. if you must.” you giggle. he smiles. he’s so pretty you feel like your going to explode.

as he places you on your back, unbuttoning your shirt, he starts to spit out another fact. “did you know men are more jealous of sexual infidelity than emotional?” he asks. “women are actually the opposite, they get more jealous with ‘emotional cheating’ than sexual.” he takes his time, you always loved how smart he was. it turned you on.

“i wasn’t jealous,” you say. “oh really?” he snorts. slipping off your shirt. “yeah.” you say. he instructs you to lift your hips so he can slide your pants off. “mhmm..” he says. eyes focused on your body, he’s too distracted to make a smart comment. “she was pretty, i guess.” you try to say. lila was gorgeous. he just chuckles and shakes his head. not bothering to comment. he dips down and kisses you. nose accidentally bumping against yours and teeth clashing. it was messy, just how you liked it. “what was that thing about kissing and shaking hands?” you ask, just to hear him talk.

“the number of pathogens transferred from just a single handshake is staggering. it’s safer to kiss,” he says into the skin of your neck. “that’s interesting, tell me more.” you smile. he groans. “i can tell you all about it later, can’t i just take care of my baby now?” he smiles. “baby? what happened to trouble?” you grin. “you are trouble,” he sighs. lovingly of course. you giggle as he kisses down from your neck to your collarbone, then unbuckles your bra without struggle. pulling it off. he trails down to your tummy, pressing little kisses here and there. making you antsy. he reaches the spot you need him most and smiles into your skin as you squirm a little. “patience, trouble.” he says. he plants a firm kiss on your hipbone and pulls your panties down with one hand. “you’re so pretty,” he smiles. eyes flickering to your face. “all mine, hmm?” he hums and you nod enthusiastically. he chuckles and thumbs experimentally at your clit.

you press your hips up into his touch, leaning into it. chasing that feeling. he smirks, inserting two fingers slowly. he paws at that spongy spot within your walls. you let out a quiet moan and spencer doesn’t deem it good enough, he starts punching at the spot. abusing it almost. this pulls another moan out of you and he speeds up the movements on your clit. you almost see heaven as you arch your back, eyes rolling back. he leans down, attaching his lips on your clit and sucking harshly. thank god you weren’t standing because you would’ve doubled over with how strong your orgasm was. you try to get the words out but only pant. spencer can tell, “gonna cum, trouble?” he asks. then continues his attack on the bundle of nerves. the coil in your belly snaps, climaxing with his name on your lips.

the sound of your slick fills the room as spencer works you through your organism. eyes trained on your pussy. his fingers are pulled out, given a quick lick and suddenly his mouth is on you. lapping and drinking up your release like a man starved. “spence, wait— gimme a minute-“ moan.

your begs fall on deaf ears as he’s absolutely lost in you. there’s no pulling him out. you reach your hand down and bury it in his hair. pressing your hips into the bed to escape the overstimulation. trying to tug him off, he doesn’t listen though. moaning into you when you pull on his hair. the vibrations make you even more sensitive before, his nose brushes up against your clit as two strong hands come to hold you down on either side.

you moan, tears pricking in your eyes from the overstimulation. everything’s magnified by 10. the obscene sounds of your pussy fill the room as your poor clit is abused, spencer’s tongue prodding into you, milking you for everything you have to offer. the familiar hear fills your belly and you can feel the coil start to unwind. “spence—“ you sob. cumming again. riding against his face. you can feel that bastard smirk against you as he greedily laps up your release. “you’re okay,” he coaxs. finally pulling off of you. he presses a kiss to your mound then pulls himself up, he kisses your cheek. then wipes the stray tears on your cheek.

“hi pretty,” he says with a smile. your eyes meet his and you smile, a little dazy. “you have something on your face.” you say, remaints of cum. “do i?” he chuckles. he wipes it off with the back of his hand and kisses you. you can taste yourself on his tongue. “love you so much,” he mumbles against your lips. you don’t get the chance to respond before he’s kissing you again. a little tongue slipping in as he gets carried away. he messily kisses the corner of your mouth, then latches onto your neck. he works at his zipper, multitasking.

begrudgingly, he pulls away from you, slipping down his pants and kicking them off haphazardly. you tug at his shirt and he takes the hint to pull it off. undoing his tie and throwing it somewhere. when he FINALLY takes his shirt off you get to run your hands along his torso giddily. “y’so pretty,” you mumble. “this isn’t about me, it’s about you, trouble.” he says. slipping off his boxers. his cock slips angrily against his stomach and you almost whine. he leans down and kisses you as he slowly pushes in. the stretch burns but is bearable. “i know. its okay,” he whispers. he presses to the hilt, nudging against your cervix. you feel full, his hand slithers down and presses against your lower belly. “mmphh.” you whimper against his lips. he devours the sound and keeps his lips on yours as he starts to thrust in and out of you. pulling his head back to see your face every so often as the tip nudges against that sweet spot. it’s torturous how slow he’s going. you’re so overstimulated, tears start falling out of your eyes.

he smiles down at you, picking up the pace a little. his face contorts and he lets out a moan. you involuntarily clench at that and it punches out another sound. “trouble— can’t keep doing that.” he slurs. the wet sounds of him shoving your slick out of you fill the room as your hips collide. teeth and noses brush together messily and he’s practically devouring you. everything’s happening so fast. before you know it you’re coming again, his name recited on your lips. he works you through it, slamming into you with a feverish pace. you constrict around him and he’s not long after you, pressing himself as far as he can into you and coming. he’s whining,

you pant, he’s collapsed ontop of you. buried in your neck. tears roll down your face. “good girl, good job. taking me so well.” he praises breathily. taking? “..taking..?” you say. “don’t you mean took?”

“we aren’t done.” he lifts himself up from your shoulder, pushing his glasses up. the both of your climax leaks around his dick and spills out of you slowly. “i can’t!” you start to cry as he pulls out, he presses your knees to your chest and shoves himself back in. so much for catching your breath. “you will,” he says softly. beginning to thrust in and out of you, he’s so deep you feel it in your stomach. “that’s it, my good girl huh?” he praises into your neck, a pang of arousal shoots through your body and you can feel yourself get wetter. “spence—“ “none of the whining, you can take it.” he says. he bites at your jawline. you moan loudly. everything feels so good, it’s too much. he reaches down and starts to rub figure eights into your clit gently, a contrast to the brutal pace he had going. “there ya go, taking me so well.” he murmurs, pulling his teeth off and kissing gently. “ah- i- gonna.. cum.” you force out. almost forgetting how to talk. “let go baby.” he says. your back arches, eyes rolling back, clinging to him as if he was the one keeping your grounded. he follows after, shooting cum into you with a whimper and a “nngh.”

it’s unreal. you see stars.

when you come down from your high, your sat on spencer’s lap, dick still intact. you sob, falling into his shoulder and clinging onto him. “i can’t spence.” you sniffle from the overstimulation. if you had to come again you’d probably scream. you’d also scream though if he pulled out.

“the world record for most female orgasms in an hour is a hundred and ah- fuck, thirty six” he says as you clench around him. “i think you can.” he smirks. you push his glasses up.

you bite back, “nerd.”

-

that’s it

not proofread

i’m sick asf rn 🥰

[ratskinsuit]

A Warm Embrace

Hazbin Hotel Lucifer x gn!Reader

———————————————————————

“Recently Lucifer has seeming more depressed than usual, constantly putting himself down, shutting himself off from everyone, and locking himself in his office for hours at a time, whenever he comes out he’s distant and moody, so you go and try to comfort him.”

Tags: Fluff, slight angst, Lucifer being sad, comfort

This was an anonymous request, if anything is wrong feel free to request again, but I hope I did well! I’m not the best at writing fluff but I tried.

———————————————————————

It was a normal afternoon at Lucifer’s castle, yet Lucifer was not out like he usually was. He has been really down and depressed lately, only leaving his office for meals, and during them he just picks at it and is silent. If you try to get him to come out he will just make excuses.

“Sorry I just have a lot to do.. like make..ducks and, paperwork…” He would say.

So you decided that enough was enough, and you would help him through this episode. You made him some warm lavender tea, some apple slices with honey, and an assortment of fruits.

You hum on your way to office, knocking and opening the door, stepping inside, you see your partner hunched over the desk, papers and rubber ducks scattered all around. His eyes are half-lidded, and bloodshot. His hair is a mess, knotted and messy, stands infront of his face. Hes wearing a random white t-shirt he found, stained with paint and dirt. He’s working on a duck, a pile on the floor next to him. He seems to not have heard you come in so you clear your throat.

He looks up from the duck he was working on. “O-oh hello darling, sorry I didn’t notice you came in, I was uh…” He glances at the duck. “…working.”

You walk up to his desk, setting his plate on it. “Yes, I can… see that..”You say, glancing at all of the ducks strewn across the room

“Oh- oh oh! Look what I made!” He says, picking up the duck he was working on proudly. “Presentinggg, the magictastical backflip ping rubber duck! That spits fire!” He says, in a showman type voice, smiling.

“That’s very nice honey…” You say, petting his hair.

He pauses for a second, and his face drops. “Who am I kidding this sucks!” He says, throwing it across the room with a sigh and looking down.

You look at him sadly, going behind him. “My love, I’ve noticed that you have been really on edge recently, you seem really depressed, and stressed..why don’t we take a break?” You say, rubbing his shoulders.

He looks at you with a fake confused expression, and lets out a fake laugh. “Haha! Me? Depressed? N-no way, I’m perfectly fine! I’m not stressed at all, I’m just uh… a little hyper that’s all! I’m okay!” He says, another fake laugh, obviously not okay.

“Darling we have been married for years now. I can tell your really worked up right now, why don’t we take a break and talk about it?” You say, going and sitting in his lap, resting your hands on his face, your thumb rubbing his face comfortingly.

He pushes his face against your hand, and looks down. “I… guess I have been a.. tad bit stressed recently…” He murmurs, still not used to people caring.

You give him a smile, and run your fingers through his hair and rub his back soothingly. This seems to calm him, as he leans against your chest and closes his eyes. You hum softly, continuing to comfort him.

After a couple moments you hear him mutter something unintelligible into your shirt. “Hm? What was that hon?” You ask.

He turns his head still leaning on your chest, before hesitating. “T…thank you for staying with me and caring for me…”He murmurs.. cheeks a bit red, obviously a bit embarrassed by his vulnerability.

You smile and give him a kiss. “Of course love, now why don’t we go take a bath, no offense but you kind of stink.” He laughs, his cheeks going redder. “Yeah I think that’s a good idea.”

———————————————————————

My first ever request done! I hope it was up to standards, I’m not very good at writing comfort, hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[loaksky]

i don’t celebrate thanksgiving, but could you guys imagine college!ellie taking roommate!reader home to jackson because she’d be alone for the holiday? short lil oneshot to get back into the groove of writing. do i hate this? yes.

recommended songs: alabama haint — penny and sparrow + what once was — her’s

warnings: language, a few brief mentions of family issues, suggestive content (kissing among other things) + mild sexual content, a lil misunderstanding and angst bc who am i if i don’t ??, CONFESSIONS because i’m a sloot for them. i think that’s it? not proofread ofc heh

it’s the weekend before thanksgiving, sunday to be exact, and ellie’s packing her backpack for joel’s. the energy in the the room’s a little off despite the fact that you’re normally reserved, and even though the two of you have only met this year, ellie’s learned to read you pretty well.

“you goin’ home for thanksgiving?” ellie asks absently, trying to make small talk as she rolls a sleep shirt and some pajamas haphazardly to stuff at the top of her bag.

there’s a pause that makes her brain itch before she sees the way you shake your head from where you’re hunched over a textbook at your desk.

“my family’s all over the place right now,” you answer honestly.

and ellie doesn’t know if you mean that figuratively or literally, but the lack of emotion in your voice tells her that maybe she shouldn’t pry. she can’t help it, though. because you’re her sweet and quiet roommate who’d been serious (and maybe a little scary) at first, but turned out to be a goofball with a little bit of prodding.

so seeing you like this, checked out and maybe a little stressed, ellie treads cautiously.

“so you’re gonna stay here?” she asks.

you don’t even spare her a glance.

“yeah.” your shoulders shrug. “no point in dropping so much money for a plane ticket if i’m going to be sitting home alone anyways.”

ellie makes a noise in the back of her throat and you throw look over your shoulder.

“sorry,” you offer softly, smile sheepish. “that was a little depressing.”

ellie shakes her head.

“no, i get it,” she assures you. “my family’s not really...”

you blink at her as she trails off.

“conventional? i guess?”

another quiet blankets the two of you and ellie’s speaking before she can even filter through the repercussions of her next words.

“you’re always welcome to...y’know...come with,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “it’s not even a two hour drive.”

you hope ellie can’t tell that your cheeks are burning.

“you don’t have to, of course,” ellie blabbers. “but joel’s cool, so’s my uncle and his wife. it’d be nice, i think. and jackson’s pretty fun around this time of year...”

“i don’t wanna imp—”

ellie breathes a laugh.

“don’t,” she warns you, tips of her ears burning. “you’re more than welcome, seriously.”

it’s how you end up in the passenger seat of ellie’s old 4runner, heater on blast while sublime plays on the radio.

the car ride had consisted of ellie munching on cold fries the two of you had picked up from mcdonald’s before the interstate and you finally opening up about how your parents are divorced and how the holidays are a lot more stressful than they are pleasant.

ellie really feels for you, definitely knows the feeling losing her mom at a pretty young age and being adopted in middle school by a single, bereaved father. she tells you that they’d found each other when they needed the other the most.

and you don’t particularly know why you’re so nervous when ellie finally takes the exit off the interstate and you guys make your way through the suburbs. perhaps it’s the domesticity of meeting her family, or that you’re over a hundred miles away from familiarity, but your fingers are trembling when she turns into the neighbourhood and cozy brick homes line the frost-laden streets.

she’s pulling up and parking on the curb in front of a warm two-story that has a blue pickup truck and a gold SUV in the driveway when she notices.

“hey, hey,” she whispers, noticing the way you’re wringing your hands to stop the shaking. “you okay?”

her hands are warm when they close over yours and her thumbs is brushing over your skin soothingly.

“i’m being dumb,” you admit.

ellie’s eyes are crystal clear under the setting sun.

“don’t say that,” she says softly. “you wanna take a second?”

you swallow and shake your head.

“no, we can go,” you assure her.

she’s searching your face for any tell, but when you offer her a soft smile, she’s leaning back in her seat and nodding. before she completely pulls away, you’re stopping her.

“thanks, ellie,” you say gently. “this was really kind of you.”

she flashes you an easy smile, squeezes your hand a final time before climbing out of the car and rounding the front to help you out.

and truthfully, you realize you were nervous for nothing. because when the door swings open to reveal an older man aged with smile lines and greying hair, ellie seemingly softens infinitely.

“hey, kiddo,” he greets, crushing her in a hug so tight, she’s spluttering out a laugh.

“joel, i can’t breathe,” she wheezes.

you’re standing there awkwardly, backpack slung over your shoulder when joel finally loosens his hold on ellie and glances over her head.

“who’s this?” he asks, but the smile he wears is knowing.

“________, my roommate,” she introduces quickly, cheeks warming an awful shade of red as she begs every force above that joel won’t blow her cover.

because, okay, maybe ellie’s talked about you on the phone way more times than she’d care to admit out loud. talked about how intimidating you were at first, then graduated to talking about how you were actually so cool. and maybe she’d brought up the fact that she thought you were pretty. like...super pretty. and that maybe she was crushing a teensy bit.

“nice to meet you,” joel replies simply, sparing ellie this time around.

you let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding onto, offering a smile that makes ellie wonder if she’ll survive the week with you in such a new proximity.

“nice to meet you, too,” you almost whisper, relaxing as he reaches for the backpack slung over your shoulder.

“here, let me take this for you,” he says.

and it doesn’t take you long to realize where ellie gets it from. her kind spirit and fierce yet gentle heart. joel is soft-spoken, a little rough around the edges, but a warm energy that radiates through the home he’s made for himself and ellie.

it makes infinitely more sense enter tommy and maria, her uncle and aunt who tell you the silliest stories about the starry-eyed girl in her youth over dinner. who bring out her boisterous laughter when they sing old 80’s music over dishes and evening TV.

“your family’s so cool,” you say in awe, wrapped in one of her coats she’d dug out of the closet under the stairs.

you’re nursing a mug of hot chocolate that steams in the icy air of jackson on her back porch.

ellie breathes out a little laugh.

“they’re something,” she jokes, watching you over the rim of her mug.

you make her heart thud hard in her chest as she takes you in, bundled in pieces of her that make her think that she wouldn’t mind making you hers.

“i miss times like these,” you whisper.

ellie shifts closer, catching you by surprise when her thumb swipes over the curve of your top lip.

“sorry,” she hums quietly. “you had...uh...”

you let out a hollow laugh and shake your head, tell her that it’s fine as a silence blankets the two of you.

“i’m glad you like them,” ellie admits softly. “sometimes i get a little self-conscious because, y’know, everyone expects a nuclear family and...”

“i’d take this any day,” you assure her, and the true implication of your words is latent, but something hopeful pricks her tummy.

i’d take this any day...with you.

and locking eyes with you usually scares her, usually makes her queasy with nerves because there’s always something searing in your gaze, but it’s like you see each other for the first time, no barriers.

ellie’s so close she can feel the warmth of your body coiling and drawing her in. her breath’s caught in her throat as she chances a glance at your mouth and her own lips begin to tingle.

she’s on the brink of asking if she can kiss you, but the back door is sliding open and two familiar faces are surfacing.

“williams!”

ellie’s daze melts away as she shifts to put distance between the two of you at the arrival of her friends.

“jess!” she calls. “dina!”

the moment clings heavy, but ellie writes it off. maybe she’s jumping the gun, reading too much into tender moments. it’s colored on your face, though, as she stands to meet her friends halfway, that the two of you are tethered and you feel it too.

ellie’s friends are another reflection of her character. they take you under their wings in the days leading up to the holiday with jesse teaching you to ride his minibike and dina telling you stories of their childhood while excitedly painting your nails pretty shades of autumnal colors because both jesse and ellie vehemently decline.

joel graciously relinquishes his kitchen to the four of you the day before thanksgiving. lets you guys gather around and bake an array of different desserts for tomorrow’s dinner over a few beers and winecoolers.

perhaps ellie’s a lightweight, you come to find, when she’s a lot more giggly and rosy-cheeked than she’d ever let anyone see. she’s feeling a little bubbly and you definitely don’t help the fact when you gaze upon her so fondly as you smear away the streaks of flour across her cheek.

jesse and dina are merely observers, watching with knowing grins as ellie practically melts against your touch.

and as the desserts cool on the kitchen island and the two of see jesse and dina out, ellie can’t keep her hazy eyes off of you. the two of you vote on a movie and she’s taking her usual seat in the right corner of the couch. it starts out with the two of you on opposite ends, but as the film plays, the space between you and ellie diminishes and she swears you can hear the way her heart’s pounding behind her ribcage with your ear pressed to her chest.

it’s uncharted territory considering ellie’s never been big on physical touch and she can’t even be sure that there's anything there, but you have to know. ellie’d mentioned past girlfriends, wasn’t really subtle when it came to wandering eyes on campus, hell, she’d even—

suddenly your arm’s tightening around the narrow of her waist and you’re nestling impossibly closer and christ, ellie can’t help herself when the coarse pads of her fingertips brush your jaw to catch your attention.

your gaze is illuminated by pixels and there’s a hitch in your breathing as you search her features for any hesitation. it’s long gone, you find, when ellie’s mouth is slotting yours, lips warm and tongue still flavored with sparkling wine.

ellie kisses like you’re air and she needs you to breathe. it’s almost embarrassing, way her body reacts to your proximity, how hot she us under the collar and achey as you move to straddle her. her fingertips are skimming down your spine, past the small of your back to take a—

your teeth sinking in the plump of her bottom lip and the way your soft palms find purchase against the rigid expanse of her tattooed abdomen is sobering. has her bony fingers cupping the flesh of your jaw.

“wait, wait,” she whispers, chest heaving and breaths shallow as she looks up at you.

the dust is starting to settle and you take in ellie’s kiss-bitten lips, swollen and slick. her pupils are blown wide, sweater riding up to reveal reddened flesh like you’ve branded her. you lean back.

“fuck,” you whisper. “fuck, i’m so sorry.”

ellie’s mouth is drying.

“why are you sorry?” she whispers.

you seem to chew on your words, eyes teary and expression scared.

“why are you sorry?” ellie repeats, not caring enough to mask the hitch in her voice as she pries.

“you’re always so fucking good to me, ellie,” you whimper. “you’re a great roommate and an even better friend and—”

ellie blows out a deep sigh, falls slack against the cushions as she levels you with an indiscernible look in her eye.

“don’t do that,” she breathes.

“ellie.”

“c’mon, you know me better than that,” she says, tone tinged with annoyance. “you don’t have to let me down easy. you can be honest.”

and color you confused because how couldn’t she fathom that you’ve fallen and head first at that? she’s reading it all wrong, you realize, when defeat shutters over her pretty face.

“i—”

the floorboards outside the den creak and ellie’s pushing you off just as the door squeaks open to reveal joel’s aging face.

he reads the room a moment, decides to blow by the sheen in your eyes and ellie’s rigid posture.

“tommy and maria are leaving, kiddo,” he says. “if you wanna say bye.”

ellie nods, stands and leaves you in the television-illuminated room.

you realize she won’t come back for you when the telltale sound of the front door closes and the stairs seem to groan under her weight.

it’s half past two in the morning when you slip from the den, glass of water condensating on a coaster as you try to collect yourself on the screened-in deck out back.

the icy chill stings your lungs, makes you gulp in breath after breath. the night’s starting to dawn you, the gravity of the situation overwhelming you enough to choke.

“fuck,” you whisper, that familiar feeling of dread squeezing your chest.

meanwhile, ellie can’t sleep. has been staring at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom for the past two and a half hours. you’re all she can think of. pliant curves of your body settling over hers to fit like you two were made for each other, the smell of your subtle perfume, the taste of your mouth.

and she wants to be annoyed, angry at the fact, but she’d brought you all the way here, extricated you from your comfort zone and showed you parts of her she wouldn’t dream of revealing to anyone else.

she recalls the resignation in your tone on the drive up, how you’d divulged the dysfunction of your family and the troubles you carried with you as a result. it’d be your first holiday with someone other than yourself for a while and she’d be damned if it soured because she couldn’t push her feelings aside.

the tv’s off and the blanket’s folded when she musters up enough courage to enter the den again, heart sinking to her ass when she slides back into the kitchen and finds that the sliding door to the back deck is cracked ever so slightly.

she’s seen you in a lot of ways these past eleven-odd months she’s known you, but she’s never seen you like this, hands over your heart and chest heaving like you’re trying to ground yourself.

when your watery gaze swings to her, ellie’s melting, cushion sinking as she settles next to you.

“sorry,” you whisper shakily. “i don’t—”

ellie’s shifting to face you, arms winding around your shoulders as one hand comes up to cradle the back of your head.

“let’s talk about it later,” ellie offers softly. “we can just go to bed for now and—”

“i really, really like you, ellie,” you say in one breath, and it has her body locking up, the audible catch of her inhale sounding near your ear.

“but?”

“no buts,” you admit. “just that i don’t want you to think that i kissed you because you’re being nice to me. well, i guess you’re always nice to me. it’s one of the reasons why i…”

and ellie doesn’t mean to tune you out, but you’re so fucking cute and so sweet and she shouldn’t have doubted you or herself because you’re hiccuping and shivering and—

you taste better the second time around. now ellie’s a little less unsure, still a little nervous because you’re the first girl to make her feel like this and she doesn’t want the bubble she’s built around the two of you in this corner of her little world to burst, but kissing you feels so right.

she’s dragging you back inside, past the den and up the stairs, and maybe the two of you do things you shouldn’t in her twin size bed in her childhood room when her dad’s only a few walls away, but she can’t help herself. not when you’ve always been an arm’s length away and she can finally have you.

it isn’t until the two of you lay under the dim glimmer of the glow-in-the dark stars pasted to her ceiling, her face pressed in your neck, that she says it.

“i really, really like you, too,” she whispers. “i realized i didn’t say it back.”

but it’s not like she needs to. you knew that already.

neng ©️2023

[muldj0rd]

“You saved my life. You’re my superhero” || Lestappen

Summary: “I’m still sorry” Max walked closer, stopping a few feet away from him. Charles only hummed “You always look at me” Max whispered quietly “Did I do something?”

“You have a black eye and bruises on your left bicep” Charles sighed, turning off the stove “If I look at you, I might just break down myself” Charles chuckled softly

Warnings: Jos Verstappen’s A+ parenting, Jos Verstappen is a warning in himself, talk about mental illness’, depression, eating disorder, angst, Max needs a hug, Charles gives it to him, internalised homophobia, top Charles, bottom Max, anal, anal fingering, handjob, dacryphilia, praise kink, insecure Max, insecurities, nipple play, Charles being Max’s first male partner

Masterlist || AO3

Growing up, and if you didn’t look too close, Max was a happy child

Good mother. Good sister. Grew up with a father with failed racing dreams

It gave him pressure, sure… But if he didn’t have the pressure… Would he be who he was today?

Today, Max Verstappen was a three-time world champion winner

3 times as more champions than his dad

61 more wins than his dad ever had

Was his dad a good dad, though?

Jos Verstappen was the worst dad, if he even deserved to call himself a father

Max grew up with all kinds of mental illness’. Some he grew out of, some he didn’t

Depression. Stayed all through out his karting days and up until now

Eating Disorder. He didn’t feel valid for having one, and thinking he made it up because he didn’t look like someone with an ED

He wasn’t fit. He wasn’t skinny. He wasn’t…

He’d look in the mirror every morning, looking at his shirt covered chest, telling himself he needed to work out more, loose the fat around his stomach

No matter how hard he tried to loose the fat, he could never look good or how he wanted

He could never look like Charles

Charles was pretty. Who was Max kidding? Charles was hot… Until he slept. Charles was drop dead gorgeous when he slept

Max didn’t care it sounded creepy- it wasn’t, right? They were friends, and Charles had fallen asleep in his company before, so naturally Max had seen Charles asleep. Gorgeous

Max wouldn’t be where he was without his so called father

Max would be dead without Charles

Max wasn’t gay. He wasn’t. It was wrong… That’s at least what his dad had told him after Max had told him a story about Charles that maybe to Jos sounded a tad bit too friendly

Max wasn’t gay

”Charles is pretty”

Max wasn’t gay

”Charles is slightly attractive”

Max wasn’t gay

”Charles is hot”

Was Max gay?

No.

Red Bull had suggested- Christian had suggested to Max that he tried out therapy, he refused of course, but when Christian didn’t shut the fuck up, he agreed just to keep him off of his back

“Who helped you become who you are today? A three-time champion, that is?” The therapist asked curious

“My dad… I guess” Max shrugged slightly, biting his bottom lip softly, the skin rough from where he had been nibbling at it for a few days, stressed about this session

“You guess?” He asked curious, shifting in his seat

“I wouldn’t be a champion without my dad, but I wouldn’t be…” Max sighed, nails scraping his palm, itching the anxious feeling “…I wouldn’t be… I wouldn’t be alive… Without… Without C-Charles” It was if the words were wrong, or a sin of some kind

“Charles? Leclerc?” He questioned, knitting his eyebrows together

“He’s always been there for me” Max shrugged slightly, his bottom lip trembling “When… When everybody was… When everybody was against me, Charles had been there. Always. Picking me up from the dirt of the track, telling me everything would be okay and that people could go fuck themselves” He chuckled softly, his eyes welling up, glazing with tears

“So… You and Charles are friends?” He hummed, writing something down on his notes

“Yeah. I guess…” Max hummed, shrugging slightly, sniffling

“You need to stop guessing, and instead start to know” He sighed “You like Charles?”

“Yes” Max hummed “I mean- no. Not like that. I guess-… I know, Charles is a friend”

“You find Charles attractive?” Max looked up, his tears now dried

“H-He’s pretty. I gue- I know” Max swallowed “Sometimes” He shrugged slightly

“When? When is Charles pretty to you?” He shifted curiously in his chair, the one hour now gone, but he wanted to hear more from Max

“When he sleeps” Max shrugged “His long eye lashes against his cheek bones, his lips slightly parted, pretty lips… Full. Nice. His hair messy… Looks more fluffy that way. I just kinda wanna stroke it, thread my fingers through it” Max smiled softly, not realising what he was saying

“Max…” He sighed softly “I can’t tell you how you feel, but… I think maybe you should reconsider what you feel towards Charles

“I’m not gay” Max said confused, shaking his head slightly “I’m not”

“I’m not saying you are, Max… I’m saying you should reconsider if Charles and you are better friends than you go around and think”

”I’m not gay” Max kept mumbling all the time, in all the languages he knew

“You listening, boy?” Jos asked when he saw and heard Max mumbling to himself “What you mumbling about?”

“Nothing. Sorry father. I’m listening” Max apologised, squirming in his seat where he sat

He wasn’t listening, and he knew his father knew, and he was sure as hell to be beaten over it later

MAX: Can I come over and cuddle with Leo?

Charles blinked his eyes open. He was yet to fall asleep when he heard the ping, but close to

The light was bright in his eyes. 1:36 said his phone when he turned the brightness down

CHARLES: It’s almost 2 am, and he’s asleep. What about Sassy and Jimmy?

MAX: Can I come over to just see you then?

Max always used Leo as an excuse to see Charles when he needed it

CHARLES: Of course you can, Max

’Thank you. I love you’

MAX: Thank you. I’ll be there in a bit

Moments like these came often, so to not wake the whole apartment complex, Charles had given Max a key

Max closed the door behind him quietly. Kicking off his shoes and his jacket, putting them neatly on their respectful places, knowing Charles was a neat freak

Max softly got into Charles bed, careful not to wake him if he was asleep, Leo stirring quietly awake when he moved to lay on his side, back facing Charles’

Max’ breath hitched slightly as he felt Charles pull the duvet up over his body, an arm around his waist, keeping him close, soothing him softly to sleep

Charles asked once at 3 am what happened. Max broke into tears. Charles hated seeing Max like that, so he never asked again

He felt guilty for never asking. Selfish. Max didn’t want to talk about it anyways, so it was all good

Max woke up by Leo licking all over his face, making him groan softly

He was now laying on his stomach as Leo curled into his side, his fur soft against Max’s hand that was stroking him

He got out of the bed, seeing as Charles wasn’t there. His mind worked on auto pilot, his body walking towards the smell of food

“I’m sorry” Max murmured from where he stood in the middle of the living room, looking into the kitchen

Charles’s body stiffened slightly “It’s fine. It’s what friends are for” He chocked out, not looking at Max

Why didn’t he? He always looked at Max. No matter what

“I’m still sorry” Max walked closer, stopping a few feet away from him. Charles only hummed “You always look at me” Max whispered quietly “Did I do something?”

“You have a black eye and bruises on your left bicep” Charles sighed, turning off the stove “If I look at you, I might just break down myself” Charles chuckled softly

Max was the one getting abused, so why was Charles the one going to break down?

“Charles…” Max almost whined, looking up into the back of Charles head “Look at me, please… Charles, I need you to look at me” Max whispered

Charles tapped on the counter with his nail, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to the ceiling, hoping the unshed tears would just go away

When they didn’t and he couldn’t stretch it any longer, he turned around, opening his eyes slowly

He shouldn’t have. The tears streamed silently down his cheeks the moment he saw Max’s disheveled look

Max drew Charles into his arms, Charles immediately shoving his head into the crook of Max’s neck, his hands clutching at the front of Max’s shirt

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve saved you” Charles sobbed into Max’s neck, his body shaking

‘You saved my life’

Max’s eyes welled up, feeling guilty that he had made Charles feel like this. Made him feel like he should apologise

“It’s not your fault” Max chocked out, sniffling slightly, holding back tears as best as he could

Charles leaned away from Max neck, his sobbing quieting down, now eye to eye

Max took his hand up to Charles’s cheek, the rough pad of his thumb wiping away tears around his beautiful green eyes

“It’s not your fault” Max tried again

Max wanted to lean in, kissing Charles until they were both passed out from oxygen. It wasn’t the right time… or was it?

‘Fuck it. I am gay’ Max though before slowly leaning in, kissing Charles softly, Charles kissing back immediately

“Thought you weren’t gay” Charles chuckled, tear stains on his cheeks and chin

“What?” Max asked, still dazed from how good and right the kiss felt

“I’ve heard you mumbling all last week” Charles chuckled again, his hands squeezing Max’s waist softly

“Oh… Well…” Max scratched the nape of his neck “I guess my therapist have gotten into my head”

“No… He wouldn’t do that. He’s just given you a push towards something you couldn’t walk towards yourself” Charles said softly, his green eyes wet from his earlier crying

How could Max not want to kiss Charles when looked like that? So he did. Max leaned back in to kiss Charles

Charles kissed back as well, a little more tender than before

Charles wanted Max- no. Charles needed Max. He needed him in a way no other could give him

He kissed Max a little harder, drawing a yelp out of him as well as Charles pushed Max softly up against the island counter, trapping his body

Charles’ hand went into Max’s hair. It was cut. Charles hated it. Max looked better with longer hair, but he always cut it because Jos said ’It made him look like a faggot’

It wasn’t cut too short, so Charles stilled managed to tug softly, making Max leaning back with a whimper, Charles’ lips going to his throat

“You’re pretty when you cry” Max chocked out, closing his eyes, trying to think of anything else than what it might feel like having Charles inside of him

“Yeah? That’s your kink?” Charles chuckled, his tongue lapping at Max’s throat and over his Adam’s apple

“N-no” Max chocked out… Maybe it was, yes. It definitely turned him on a little, but he didn’t want Charles to cry during sex

“Hm. Shame” Charles hummed, his hands on Max’s hips, pulling him away from the counter, guiding him towards the bedroom again

“Shame?” Max asked confused, Charles pushing him softly to lay down against the bed

“Yeah” Charles hummed, sitting down in between Max’s spread legs, hands just below where his shirt ended “Would love to see you cry in pleasure”

Charles leaned down, kissing Max again, his hands traveling under Max shirt, but he stopped him, pushing at his wrists

Charles stoped, leaning back again, seeing Max’s face turned to the side, his eyes screwed shut, hands tight around Charles’ wrists

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. We don’t have to. It’s fine. I’m sorry for pressuring you” Charles said softly, hissing quietly at Max’s strong grip around his wrists

“No, no. I want to. It’s just-… I don’t-… I don’t like m-my…” He had turned his head back to Charles, but his eyes were still screwed shut

“I do. You’re so goddamn beautiful that it hurts to look at you” Charles sighed “And I want to show you just how much I love all of you”

Max whimpered softly. Love? His hands slowly loosening around Charles’ wrists, slowly opening his eyes

“Let me show you” Charles whispered, his eyes soft and wide. Max nodded softly “That’s not enough for me, amour”

“Show me” Max nodded softly

“Thank you. We can always stop if you get too uncomfortable, okay?” Max nodded “Max”

“Yes” He said as soon as Charles said his name

’Good boy’ It sat on Charles tongue. He didn’t say it

Charles didn’t know, but he’d assume that Max had a praise kink- I mean, who wouldn’t in his state?

He didn’t get any praise when he was younger, so Charles had now decided to make it his mission and give Max praise for every little thing

“Lift your arms” Charles said softly

He could feel the hesitation in Max’s hands were they twitched around Charles’s wrists before he pulled them off and over his head, sitting slightly up so Charles could pull the T-shirt over his head

Max fell back against the bed, immediately covering his stomach with his arms

Charles leaned down, kissing Max from his lips, down his chin, along his jaw, down his neck, over his throat, and down to his collarbone

Max whimpered every time Charles moved to a new spot, arching his neck to let Charles have more space, his arms tightening around his stomach

“You’re so fucking beautiful, mon amour. So fucking beautiful” Charles hummed, kissing down Max’s chest softly

Max moaned softly when Charles licked over one of his nipples, causing him to hold his hand over his mouth, giving Charles the chance to kiss further down, closing in on his stomach

Max felt like pushing Charles away, but why would he? Max thought it over

If it was anybody else, he hadn’t let it go this far, but it wasn’t anybody else. It was Charles. Charles who had saved him. Charles who has saved his life. He wouldn’t find that part of his body disgusting. Would he?

Max moved his other arm, letting both arms fall to his sides

Charles looked up at Max, slightly surprised he had gotten him comfortable, but he loved it nonetheless

Max, the broken man with no proper childhood, was comfortable around Charles

Charles continued to kiss Max’s stomach, slowly getting lower, kissing the skin above Max’s waistband of his sweats

Max wanted to thread his fingers through Charles’ hair, so he did. The dark brown locks soft around Max’s rough fingers

��Charlie” Max whined quietly as Charles darted his tongue out, licking at the stubble burns he had accidentally made seeming he hadn’t shaven in a couple of days

“Yes, amour?” Charles asked teasingly, leaning back to see the burns he had accidentally made down Max’s pale body

“Please” Max whimpered “I n-need you” He stuttered, blushing red from the embarrassment of sounding needy and desperate

“Yeah? You need me?” Charles chuckled, to which Max mumbled out a low ‘yes’ “Alright. Sweats and briefs off” Charles patted the outside of Max’s thigh before he went to the night stand, taking the lube from the drawer

Charles turned back to the bed, seeing Max now completely naked and laid further up the bed

“Mon dieu. You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are” Charles sighed with a slight smile, his hands caressing Max’s thighs, watching as his hard cock twitched at the affection, leaking slightly

“This isn’t fair” Max whined, tugging at the hem of Charles’ shirt

Charles took the hint, chuckling softly as he pulled the T-shirt off of himself

Max almost drooled at the sight, but was quickly replaced with a small pout “I’ll never look like you” He mumbled

“I don’t want you to, amour. I want you to look just like this” He murmured, opening the lube bottle, pouring some on his fingers

“Remember; you can tell me to stop whenever, okay?” Charles reminded Max as he warmed up the lube

Max nodded quietly “Amour” Charles said, in a tone that was slightly warningly

“Yes” Max said “Jus’-… please Charlie” Max whined, bucking his hips slightly, trying to show Charles how much he needed him

Charles only chuckled softly, circling Max’s hole softly, making Max moan softly, his hands gripping at the sheets

Though, his hands immediately flew to Charles’ biceps when Charles slowly pushed in his finger

“F-fuck- Charles” Max whimpered, feeling Charles slowly moved his finger, twisting it and slowly moving in and out of him

When Max was loose enough, Charles pushed in a second finger, Max moaning at the action, his back arching

“Dieu. Why haven’t I made a move before, hm? You’re so fucking beautiful like this” Charles chuckled, his fingers slowly and softly moving in and out of Max, his lips attached to Max’s bent knee, most likely giving him burns there as well

“C-Charles. Please- i-i need it so bad. Please” Max had never thought in a million years he’d be begging for Charles’ cock inside him

“Shh. I got you, baby” Charles soothed, slowly pulling his fingers out of Max, loving the whine that escaped Max’s lips

Charles wiped his fingers on the inside of Max’s thigh so he could pull his own sweats and briefs down

When Charles had lubed himself and lining himself up with Max’s fluttering hole, Max held his hands against Charles’ abdomen, stopping him softly

“I-i’ve never… I’ve never had sex with a man- I don’t know what I’m doing” Max said, more confident then when they had started

“I know, amour. I got you, okay? Just lay back and tell if you want to stop or something you want to do different” Charles said, a slight smirk on his lips

Max nodded softly “Yes” He whimpered softly

“Good boy” It flew past Charles’ lips before he could stop it, but when he saw how red Max’s whole body got, he didn’t want to take it back

Max was about to come back with a witty comment, but could only moan when Charles slowly pushed into him, stopping every few inches, letting Max adjust before he continued

Charles kissed along Max’s collarbone, feeling him loosen around his cock

“C-Char… Please” Max breathed out, trying to move against Charles, having no success to get any kind of friction

“Come on. Finish my name. I like how you say your S’” Charles chuckled, thrusting softly once, Max moaning softly

“Charles” Max gasped when Charles thrusted once again

Max had been insecure about his lisp forever ever since they were kids, and Charles had loved the way Max said his name just as long

Charles set a pace and rhythm that worked for him, and one Max didn’t have any problem with

Charles put a hand under Max’s body, angling his hips slightly so it was easier for Charles to hit his prostate, making Max moan loudly and chant his name like a prayer

“Charles- please- I need… I need to come, please” Max almost cried out, nails digging into Charles’ back

Charles wrapped his hand around Max’s neglected cock, stroking him at the same speed of his hips “Come for me, amour”

Max’s nails dug into Charles’ back so hard he was afraid he’d break his skin as he came, covering his own stomach and Charles’s hand with his cum

Charles slowed his hand and hips down, moaning Max’s name softly into his pale neck as he came himself

“I like your hair longer” Charles murmured, kissing Max’s shoulder softly as they sat in the bathtub, Charles’ hand on Max’s stomach, stroking his thumb over his skin

Max sighed “My dad-“

“Fuck what he thinks. He’s not your father. He’s a man who treats a child like a subject” Charles said softly, kissing Max’s cheek bone just under where his black eye shone ended

Max wanted to cry. Charles was right. Jos never treated him like a son. Maybe for the first few years, but when Max became competitive in karting, he became a subject

“Move in” Charles said, sensing Max wanted to change the subject “I don’t like you living somewhere he knows” Charles held Max closer “Please”

Max nodded softly “I will. I want nothing else… But, we’ll have to learn Sassy and Jimmy to be nice to Leo” He chuckled

[fatkish]

Could you do a Aizawa x suicidal daughter please?Sorry if this is too dark but I’ve seen some of your other works about stuff like this and it makes me feel seen I guess thanks :)

(Sorry Anon, I know that you specifically asked for an x daughter reader, but I feel that this is a topic that happens to a lot of people so I decided that I would make it Gender Neutral since everyone could used a little Dadzawa every now and then. If you want me to make one specifically for a Dadzawa x Daughter Reader then I’ll do that.)

Father Aizawa x Suicidal Reader

If I was Happy

TRIGGER WARNING: The following contains mentions of suicide ideation, self harming thoughts and feelings and other potentially triggering things. Please be advised and refrain from reading if this will trigger you.

You hadn’t always struggled with these kind of thoughts and feelings, or maybe you did. Maybe you had these thoughts before, but it had felt like so long, you couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t feel this way.

You didn’t understand why you felt so horrible about yourself or when it started but you knew that originally, you didn’t think this way about yourself.

As these horrible thoughts ran rampant in your mind, thoughts of how you’re worthless, maybe you’re fat or you’re too skinny. Maybe you’re ugly or you have acne. Maybe your nose just doesn’t fit your face, or you have oily or greasy hair that you just can’t get rid of. Maybe you heard people who made fun of you and their words made you bully yourself worse than they did. Maybe you hated everything about yourself and you couldn’t take it anymore. Or maybe the state of the world was too depressing and you didn’t want to be a part of it. Whatever the case is, your world grew darker as you turned on yourself. You became your own worse critic. But still, you didn’t let anyone see the truth, especially your amazing dad.

And maybe that’s when you finally got the idea. The thought that maybe you should die.

You couldn’t remember when the last time was that you didn’t have these thoughts. It’s like a demon came inside of you and decided to poison you, making you hate yourself and everything that you were.

It hurts. It hurts to live like this. People can say things like, it’s selfish to kill yourself. Or killing yourself isn’t the solution. That you’re only hurting the ones that love you, but if those people really loved you, then wouldn’t they want your suffering to end? Why would the people that love you want you to suffer? Aren’t they the ones being selfish? You wouldn’t force an animal that’s in pain and has little to no quality of life to continue living just because you love them. Right? That’s inhumane. So why must you keep living if you don’t have any quality of life?

These were the kind of thoughts that plagued you late at night. You tried your hardest to live on and not let anyone know that you were suffering, especially your dad.

Your dad was amazing. He’s the best father you could ask for. Maybe he isn’t perfect, but you never once doubted his love for you. You knew that one of his best friends had died when he was in highschool. You know that it severely affected him. He might not be the most affectionate person in the world, but he doesn’t have to be. His eyes and smile say it all.

One night, you couldn’t take the thoughts anymore. You decided that you would write a letter and explain to your dad why you killed yourself and tell him is wasn’t his fault. You loved him so much, he’s always been there for you. But you know how stressful his life is and you just can’t fight off the part of you that believes you’re a burden to him. Your dad doesn’t need anymore stress especially from you. So you write a note and decided to do something special for him. You wrote, played and recorded a song for him.

(Play song above or play on YouTube)

Dear God, please, hear me out

I know it's been a couple years

Since I've reached out and said hello

I bet You're wondering

Why I keep

Obsessing on and stressing all the little things

When I should be

Living life and soaking up the memories

I know I've been selfish, I have

No excuse to give you, it's true

Hanging by a thread's how I live

I don't know why, but I feel more comfortable

Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem

Go up in flames, acting like I don't

Care what anyone else thinks, when I know truthfully

That that's the furthest thing from how I

Feel, but I'm too proud to open up and ask ya

To pick me up and pull me out this hole I'm trapped in

The truth is, I need help, but I just can't imagine who

Who I'd be if I was happy

As you played the song and sang, you didn’t know that your dad had come home. He knew that you had been learning to play instruments from Hizashi but he didn’t realize you were this good. He started to walk up the stairs and as he listened to the lyrics, his heart began to hurt, as he wondered why you sang this particular song, and with such emotion too.

Yeah, been this way so long

It feels like something's off when I'm not depressed

I got some issues that I won't address

I got some baggage I ain't opened yet

I got some demons I should put to rest

I got some traumas that I can't forget

I got some phone calls I been avoiding

Some family members I don't really connect with

Some things I said I wish I would of not let slip

Some hurtful words that never should of left my lips

Some bridges burned, I'm not ready to rebuild yet

Some insecurities I haven't dealt with, yes

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a lonely soul

And the last to admit I need a hand to hold

Losing hope, headed down a dangerous road

Strange, I know, but I feel most at home when I'm

Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem

Go up in flames acting, like I don't

Care what anyone else thinks, when I know truthfully

That that's the furthest thing from how I

Feel, but I'm too proud to open up and ask ya

To pick me up and pull me out this hole I'm trapped in

The truth is, I need help, but I just can't imagine who

Who I'd be if I was happy

Your dad listed outside your door as he took in the words and began to worry and hope that you were just going through an edgy phase but with his experience, and his gut, he knew that is wasn’t just a trivial thing.

Don't know what's around the bend

Don't know what my future is

But I can't keep on living in

Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem

Go up in flames acting, like I don't

Care what anyone else thinks, when I know truthfully

That that's the furthest thing from how I

Feel, but I'm too proud to open up and ask ya

To pick me up and pull me out this hole I'm trapped in

The truth is, I need help, but I just can't imagine who

Who I'd be if I was happy

If I was happy

If I was happy

As you put down the guitar and walked up to the recording device you spoke.

“Dad, I know that you’re probably upset… no… you’re definitely upset and I’m sorry for causing you this pain, but I just couldn’t keep living like this. The pain is never ending and I don’t think it ever will. You’ve been so great to me all these years and I love you so much… I … I’m sorry. I know it hurts and I don’t ever want you to blame yourself for what I chose to do. I’m sorry I hurt you and you don’t ever have to forgive me for taking my own life, I know I won’t forgive myself for the pain it’s causing you. There wasn’t anything you could have done to prevent this… I love you… and I always will…”

You couldn’t continue as your tears overflowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. As you fell to the floor with your face in your hands a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a strong chest. Through your crying you could hear the crying of another person, and through your tears you saw the familiar black shirt and white capture scarf that belonged to your dad.

As you cried you wrapped your arms around your dad and continued to cry into his shoulder. He pulled you into his lap and cradled you in his arms as he held you tightly, afraid to let you go.

“I’m so sorry that you feel this way but please don’t do anything drastic, please. Baby I love you so much and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. You mean everything to me and you’re the reason I come home every day. You’re my world and my everything. So please… please… don’t kill yourself or hurt yourself anymore. I don’t think my heart could take it”

Aizawa cried as he spoke softly into your hair as he held you. He remembered the day he first met you in the hospital. Your tiny newborn body was so small, your little hand could barely wrap itself around his pinky finger, but you held his hand for the first time. Your tiny little hand held onto his finger as tears spilled down his cheeks as he took in the sight of his newborn child. He feel in love at first sight as he held your tiny body. He vowed to protect you and be there for you no matter what.

And you opened your eyes and looked into his. You were his whole world. The only things that existed in the moment were Aizawa and his newborn child. To him, you’re everything, you’re what he fight to come home to, you’re his reason to live and survive even the most gruesome and brutal fights. He’ll never give up and he’ll always come home to you. After all, that’s the promise he made you when he first met you.

As you both pulled away and looked into each other’s teary eyes, you smiled and laughed.

“What’s so funny”

“You’ve got snot on your shoulder… I’m so sorry”

You apologized but couldn’t help but laugh at that for whatever reason. Your dad just smiled softly and wrapped his arms around you.

“You do realize I changed your diapers when you were a baby right? You puked on me, shit on me, there’s no body fluid that you haven’t already gotten on me” he smiled as you laughed even harder at the image of a younger him covered in baby vomit with a grossed out face.

As you both laughed and he told you stories of you as a baby, he remembered everything he loved about you.

“I love you sweetheart, I always will. Tomorrow, we are going to the hospital to get your mental health evaluated and whatever happens, I promise I’ll be there for you, okay”

“Okay”

You gave you dad one last hug before cleaning everything up and you decided to take a bath before bed.

Part 2:

[mana-chan-0]

Headcanon Twisted Wonderland (Sickness. p.1)

♫♪♩·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ ♥️ ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·♩♪♫

♫♪♩·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ ♥️ ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·♩♪♫

“How they react when you get sick”

Context : You've fallen ill in the middle of winter. Bedridden, Grim is depressed because he can't help you. You're running a high fever, and you can't get out of bed because your body is so weak from illness. Panicked that your condition isn't improving, and without a phone, Grim runs out of your room, looking for someone. But who ?

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[🌹] Riddle ♡ He was warned by Grim and came as fast as he could. After knocking on your door, he entered your room, looking seriously worried about you. Despite his deceptively calm appearance, he was inwardly stressing about your health. Riddle decided to call Trey and ask him to go and buy some medicine from Sam.

In the meantime, he fetched a towel, dipped it in a basin of cold water, and placed it on your forehead. He also prepared a little tea with honey, insisting that it would do you a lot of good.

- Y/N, you're not disturbing me," he smiled gently. I'll stay until your fever subsides. I've got my books with me, so I'll just study on the chair until you're feeling better.

[♥️] Ace ♡ At first, he didn't believe it at all; when Grim told him about it, he thought it was a joke. But seeing his anguish, Ace grabbed Grim and came running. He found you on the ground, unable to get up. He straightened you up and put you back to bed, claiming he was going to get you some water. In reality, he wasn't sure how to go about it. Remembering the days when he'd been ill, he seemed to act in imitation of his brother. Put a fresh towel on your head, go and buy some medicine and simple things to eat.

- Why do you want me to go ? I don't care if I get sick, you'll take care of me if I am, right ? Then you can pass on your illness to me," he smiled. Hurry up and get better. Otherwise, I'll be bored in class.

[🦁] Leona ♡ Leona had initially refused to make the trip to Ramshackle. But Grim seemed far too panicky. Conscientious, Leona had grabbed the grey cat by the collar before heading straight to the dormitory. Although calm when he arrived in your room, he hadn't expected to see you on the floor, vomiting into a basin. Your throat had been burning for hours, and nothing could be done. So Leona entrusted Grim with your surveillance and left the room, heading for Sam's store.

He had returned fairly quickly, with a large plastic bag containing medicines, ice-cream bags, small ice cream, compotes, and honey. Although it looked like he was bored, he was actually quite concerned about your condition. After helping you back to bed, he handed you a hot drink made from lemon and honey.

—So, herbivore, are you getting sick now ? What am I supposed to do if you don't get out of bed ? I'm not going to have anyone to distract me at night," he laughed mockingly. I guess, for once, I'm the one who has to watch over you.

[🐙] Azul ♡ As his classes had ended, Azul had left the castle to join Octavinelle. But no sooner had he arrived at the Hall of Mirrors than Grim, the second member of the Ramshackle dormitory had arrived between tears and panic. He tried to explain the situation to Azul, and the young manager of the Mostro Lounge thought for long seconds before moving. He hesitated between buying medicine or coming to see you immediately. But the second option was the best in his eyes, and as he quickened his pace towards the dormitory, he entered with Grim before making his way to your room.

You were desperately trying to get up to get a drink, and the surprise of hearing the door open made you lose your balance. Azul managed to catch you before you fell to the icy floor. He helped you up and forced you back to bed, asking Grim to fetch you a glass of water. Your hands were freezing, and your forehead was burning. Calmly, he grabbed a second blanket and laid it over you, seeming to think of a way to heal you. He took off his uniform jacket and began to throw away the many tissues around your bed before handing you the glass of water Grim had brought.

- Y/N-san, I think we should contact Crewel-sensei. He'll be able to give you the right treatment for a speedy recovery," he looked at the clock and then at your room. It's freezing cold in this dormitory. Perhaps it would be better if you came to Octavinelle to rest for the day. Jade and Floyd would be happy to help you too," he smiles more gently. You'll heal faster that way, and I would be reassured...

[🐍] Jamil ♡ Having listened to Grim, he had made his way to Scarabia, holding the cat under his arm. Jamil seemed to retrieve some medicine and small belongings from his room before returning to Scarabia's kitchens. He prepared a vegetable soup, a rice porridge, and cut out several fruits in the shape of animals and flowers.

All the dishes were packed away and Jamil made his way to Ramshackle's dormitory. The vice-prefect of Scarabia found you bedridden with a high fever and scarlet red. After airing out your room, he decided to move the little pedestal table from your room to beside your bed, where he placed the various dishes before sitting down on the edge of the bed, slightly teasing.

- Finally, even you're capable of being sick. I'm used to looking after Kalim. It's not that important that I spend my evening here," he sighed. Don't eat too fast, and don't eat too much, or you'll get sick again. I've cut the fruit into rabbit shapes for you. You said you like cute things, right ?

[👑] Vil ♡ Getting ready to return to the dormitory, the Pomefiore prefect had crossed paths with Grim, who was trying to find someone. After a few seconds of listening, he understood that you had fallen ill and that it sounded serious. The young man headed off in the direction of the dormitory, stopping to buy some medicine and ready-made meals at Sam's Shop. He also thought of buying you some face masks but decided to give up and buy a floral-scented bath bomb instead.

Arriving at Ramshackle, the state of your room made him sigh. It smelled of human warmth and the dust stung his nose. So Vil decided to run a bath in which he dipped the pretty floral bomb. After returning to your room, he gave you some fever medicine and helped you stand up.

- I'm going to air out your room. You, take a bath, it will do your skin good. How could you get sick ? I told you to be careful last week," he crossed his arms over his chest, looking at you. It's cold in this dormitory. You're going to come to Pomefiore for a few days as soon as you're better.

[🐲] Malleus ♡ Not finding you as usual at the foot of your dormitory, Malleus wondered if your condition had worsened. Earlier in the day, Lilia had told him that you'd fallen ill because of the cold. Initially, he had preferred not to worry, but as the hours passed, he became more and more doubtful. Humans were fragile, unlike fairies, and he wondered if you were in danger of dying. After many hours of wondering, he decided to enter your room. The little green fireflies began to light up your room. The moon illuminated your bed, while you seemed to be suffering from a high fever.

With a worried look on his face, he simply leaned over you, placing a hand on your forehead. He was not reassured by your burning skin. Only, he noticed that you seemed to enjoy the touch of his cold hand on your forehead. A small smile spread across his face.

- Humans are so fragile. But as you're always amusing me, I'm willing to stay like this for the night... "he sat down on the edge of the bed, continuing to stare at your peacefully sleeping face." Shall I sing you a lullaby to help you sleep ? ~

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So actually, it's my first headcanon about twst (*´∀｀*) It's only the part 1 today but more will come in the next days. So please don't hesitate to share your ideas ! 💫 Also, I'm actually French, so maybe my english is f**ked up sometimes, be gentle with me. (⌒‐⌒) 🌸

[heartless-tate]

Lovers | Feysand X Freader

A/n; based off this request! Tysm for the request, I hope you enjoy! warnings; smut, lil bit of angst?, threesome, p in v, v in ur mouth 😍😍, cussing? Message me if I missed anything guys! Happy reading!

It had been 2 weeks since the night. You had stayed holed up in your apartment. You were embarrassed- or no ashamed? Confused? And bewildered by what had happened. Rhysand had invited you to Rita’s with the inner circle. You had went- enjoyed the night. And then it was time to leave. Everyone went their separate ways, except you. So you ended up on the couch beside Feyre and Rhys, drinking the tea she had made you.

“Thank you Feyre.” You whispered, grasping the hot tea she had made you. She smiled and nodded, keen eyes watching as you sipped on it. She sat down beside you again, closer this time, leaving you almost sandwiched between her and Rhys. You all sat in comfortable silence as you finished your tea. You hadn’t been drinking that night, as you didn’t feel like it. The drink was warm in your body. It relaxed you. You almost didn’t notice Rhysand’s wing brushing closer to your skin. You decided he hadn’t done it on purpose and ignored it. Until you turned your head to Feyre, and her lips were smashing against yours. She was kissing you. Her lips tasted of cherries. She chopped your face gently but firm. What was happening? You waited for Rhys to freak out but before you knew it, you felt his hand on your waist and thighs, his lips meeting your neck. Oh gods. What was happening?

And why did it feel so good? You melted into the kiss before jerking back, gasping for air. They both pulled back. Their eyes were glued to you. Your face was flushed slightly.

“Are you okay with this?” Rhysand purred behind you. You didn’t have time to think before you were nodding.

“Yeah.”

The night was magical. They certainly worked as a pair to make you cum more then once. And by the end of the night, hours later, you laid in their arms. And then in the morning you went home before they woke. You had no words. What were you suppose to say? You had shown them your most vulnerable side. Naked and pleading for them-

And now you didn’t know where any of you stood. You sighed internally. They probably were just trying something new and you were the easiest option. Easy. Easy.? Yeah. That was it. It was a one time fuck. You were just Feyre’s friend and Rhysand’s worker. Nothing more.

That thought shouldn’t of hurt, but it did. You weren’t anything. The urge to dissociate and never speak to them grew stronger. Run away and hide- but you could never escape from two beings so strong. Or would they even care if you left? They had eachother. They didn’t need you. You were a quick fuck.

A knock sounded on your door, distracting you from your thoughts. Who was here? You slowly slid from the bath, the water cold now. You threw on a shirt and made your way to the door. Cassian stood there.

“Hey!” He chirped loudly. His wings were flared slightly. He made note of your appearance. You seemed tired. And stressed.

“Hey Cas?” You said, raising an eyebrow. You leaned against the door frame. Why was he here?

“You haven’t been around in awhile! We were getting worried. You sick or something?” He pried. His eyes scanned your apartment behind you. It was a bit of a mess.

“Oh..yeah. Just haven’t been feeling well I guess.” You lied, knowing he would report back to Rhysand immediately. What we’re you suppose to say? ‘Oh I’m just sad and depressed because I fucked your high lord and high lady!’ Definitely not.

Cassian’s eyebrows furrowed. You did look sick. Your scent was weird too. Whatever you were, it wasn’t happy and healthy. “Have you seen a doctor?” He asked.

“No? I’m fine.” You said, wanting him to leave. He bristled slightly.

“Y/n-“

“I’m fine.” You growled. He sighed. He nodded.

“Okay.” And then he was gone. You felt bad, but you didn’t want to be around anyone right now.

Not even an hour passed before banging at your door started. What the fuck? You quickly approached the door and slammed it open. Before you could get any words out, hands were on your face, inspecting you. Rhysand.

“You’re sick.” He stated. he brushed your hair from your face, holding a hand to your forehead. Cassian snitched. The little fucker. You pulled away harshly, taking a step back.

“I’m fine.” You said for what felt like the millionth time today. He stepped forward with you, eyes narrowed. They searched over you, looking for injuries. He looked back to you. He sniffed the air.

“You smell weird.” He commented. You rolled your eyes.

“Wow thanks.” You said sarcastically. You turned around and walked back into your apartment hoping he’d get the hint and leave. He followed you in. He looked around the apartment.

“Maybe it’s this shithole. The air is musty around here, you should come live in one of our houses.” He purred with a smirk.

“No.”

His smirk dropped. He approached where you stood in the kitchen, his wings crowding the space as he stood behind you. He observed your cooking. “Cauldron. Being sick makes you cranky.” He teased. “If you were sick you should’ve told me. You could’ve come and let me and Feyre care for you.”

You tensed. What was he playing? You focused on the pot of your favorite comfort food. You stepped closer to the stove rather then being near him.

“I’m not sick.” You mumbled, wanting him to leave.

“Hm? Then why do you smell rotten?”

You flinched at his words. You turned around facing him. He was so tall. “Unless you came here for something else other then insulting me with every sentence, I suggest you leave.” You threatened. His eyes widened. His wings spread.

“You’re coming with me.” He declared suddenly. It was your turn to be shocked. “I suggest you start packing.”

Rhysand didn’t give you a choice, joining you in packing a few of your clothes. Why was he doing this?

You currently sat on a couch. The same couch where feyre ate you out. Where Rhysand fingered you. You shook the nasty thoughts away. Easy. You where just an easy fuck. Nothing more. You reminded yourself. Still- you felt a small growing heat in your body.

Feyre and Rhysand sat in front of you on the opposite couch. This was awkward.

“You have two options.” Feyre started.

“You can tell us what’s wrong and why you haven’t gone to a doctor, or you can let us call Madja.” Rhysand finished.

You groaned out loud. “For the last time! I’m fine. I’m not sick.”

Feyre opened her mouth to point out your scent. Rhysand stopped her.

“Then whats wrong?” Rhysand inquired. They both stared at you with big expecting eyes. You definitely weren’t getting out of this.

“I lied. I didn’t want to have to go back to work.” You mumbled. This was humiliating. Feyre quirked a brow. You weren’t the type that was lazy. You always showed up. You were a medicine specialist, and a healer. And also the best poison artist. Everyone in the inner circle loved you so much that you eventually just started being apart of it. And for you not to show up, meant something was wrong. Was it someone? No. You still smelled unhealthy.

“Explain.” Rhysand demanded, adjusting his position.

“I didn’t wanna be around you.” You stated. They both flinched and looked to each other.

“Is this about that night?” Feyre questioned. You stayed silent, not wanting to answer.

“Damnit Rhys I knew we made a mistake not checking in sooner.” Feyre growled quietly. Rhysand sighed, nodding in agreement.

“What?” You asked. What did she mean?

“We’re sorry we didn’t come and check up on you-“ Rhysand started. He sighed again. “I thought it would be best to give you space and let you process things.”

“Process? Process what? It was sex. That was it.” You barked.

Both of their faces dropped. “Just sex..?” Rhysand questioned. Feyre turned back to you. “It wasn’t just sex.” She growled challenging.

The room went silent. Feyre rubbed her temples. Rhysand stood abruptly. You looked up at him as he stepped closer.

“Love. It wasn’t ‘just sex.’ At least, not to us. It was much more. We both have liked, no loved, you for awhile. Ever since you joined the night court. We thought us making love to you made our intentions clear. When you disappeared we assumed you needed space to adjust to having two mates.” Rhysand spoke softly, crouching in front of you.

Oh. Oh. “Mates?!” You whispered. He nodded. Oh mother. Two mates? They were your mates. Your fucking mates. A sense of panic filled your system. They were making love to you and you thought they were just fucking you. Of course you had a small crush on them. Who wouldn’t? But you never saw it going anywhere. But now? Mates. Mates.

You couldn’t help but warm, remembering the night. Remembering had originally made you feel embarrassed. But now? You remembered how gentle and loving they were. The way Rhys pumped himself gently into you, kissing at your neck, with feyre suckling on your swollen clit. Your face heated up at the memory. Talons caressed your mind gently. You quickly shook the thought away, embarrassed at the wet feeling in your panties.

A hand rubbed your knee. Feyre. She was now beside you both. “It’s okay, love. We know it’s a lot to process. But don’t lie about being sick again. It had us worried.” She motioned to your bags beside the couch. Her voice was slightly scolding.

“I..” you paused. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to. Let us in.” Rhysand murmured, two sets of talons gently scratching your mind barriers. You let the barriers down. You felt them both crowding in your mind, searching and going over all your thoughts the pass two weeks. Trying asses how you feel. You felt embarrassed.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of darling.” Feyre **purred in your mind. They looked to each other when they were done.

Rhysand’s hand slowly went higher on your leg. His hand approaching your inner thigh. You squeezed them together instinctively. He smirked.

“You’re not easy. You’re not an experiment. You’re are mate.” He said, loud and clear. Feyre nodded, moving to sit beside you. She brushed your hair behind your ear.

You nodded. “And we can take our time. We don’t have to rush into this. But please, don’t distant yourself away. We’ll wait days to years until your ready to accept our bond.” Feyre whispered.

I want to accept it now. You thought. They both smirked cheekily.

“Words, love.” Rhysand purred, his hands suddenly dipping under your skirt. You felt his fingers brush against your clothed pussy. An embarrassing loud wet noise sounded. His smile grew wider. Feyre snickered.

“I want to-“ you gasped as Feyre’s hands cupped your breast, teasing your nipple slightly. Rhysand took the opportunity to slip your panties aside and trail his fingers through your slick.

“Hm?” Feyre teased.

“I want to accept the bond- now-“ you whispered out, hand clutching at Rhys’s wrist. It did nothing to stop his finger entering your cunt. It was a stretch already. He was big. You only came up to Rhysand’s chest when standing in front of him, and naturally everything on his body was bigger. Feyre ate you out last time to help adjust your body to his cock.

“Good girl.” They said in your mind. The praise triggered a rush of heat to your body again. Feyre’s hands slowly unbuttoned your blouse. She leaned down and licked a stripe in between your breast. Her nails turned to claws as she effortlessly ripped away your bra. Your chest was bare now. Your nipples hardened to the cold air. She leaned down, sucking a nipple into her mouth. You moaned, clenching on Rhysand’s finger. ke knelt between your legs, taking his time in spreading you open. He added another finger.

“She’s so tight.” Rhysand groaned, watching as your cunt clenched down. It was making a lot of noise now. Feyre giggled against your chest, fondling the other.

“And sensitive.” She purred. She flicked your other nipple, causing you to cry out. It hurt, but it felt so good. Rhysand attempted easing another finger in.

“Relax baby, i won’t be able to stuff you full if I can’t get two fingers in.”

You took a deep breath, calming your body. Everything felt so hot. Your breath were coming out in short pants. Feyre moved away, causing you to whine. She giggled again, her claw scraping your head gently. Rhysand’s fingers slowly entered you, pressing against the right spot. A spot you knew your fingers couldn’t even reach. He suddenly jerked away, leaving you empty. You whimpered softly.

He smiled and started removing your skirt and panties. Your panties were soaked. He held on to them a little longer, taking his time in sniffing them lewdly. He set them aside. You were completely bare. They were still clothed. You felt vulnerable and weak around them. And for some reason that made you wetter. You were at their will.

Rhysand’s fingers entered again, setting a much faster pace this time. They pressed into your g-spot everytime they entered. You bit your lip, trying to contain your noises.

Feyre growled warningly, and leaning nipping your cheek. She caught your lips in a rough kiss, hand clasping at your jaw. Her tongue entered your mouth, exploring. It was so stimulating- it was hard to breath but you couldn’t care. Rhysand’s fingers pumping in you, and her tongue in your mouth. Rhysand’s tongue met your clit causing you to gasp. He kitten licked it a few times before pulling back. He was fingering you so aggressively. A third finger went in.

You moaned into Feyre’s mouth as her hand started toying with your breast again. A knot formed in your stomach. They weren’t even touching your clit and yet you were about to cum. Rhysand smirked knowingly. Feyre but your lip, and pulled away. She watched with piercing eyes.

“Look at your pretty pussy baby. It’s so wet. You’re soaking the couch.” She muttered, pulling your chin down to force you to look. Your wetness was all over his hands, practically drowning them. He was watching you. He pumped harder, enjoying the way your cunt squelched with each thrust of his hand. Your thighs clenched together, only his hands stopping them from closing completely. You were so close.

You yelled when his other hand came down against your clit, slapping it roughly. You didn’t have time to process it before you were squirting on his chest. His mouth immediately latched onto you, drinking in your juices greedily. You cried out, squirming, it was too much. Feyre watched with amazement.

“Awe. We have a squirter. You didn’t do that last time, sweetie.” She squealed. Rhysand moaned against your cunt, the vibrations making you whine. He pulled away, petting your inner thigh to soothe you.

“You didn’t have permission to cum yet. You disobeyed. And yet you came just from me slapping your clit. Such a needy slut for us.” He scolded, causing you to look away in embarrassment. You clenched around nothing.

“And she tastes so fucking good.” Rhysand said, swiping his fingers across your cunt before shoving them in Feyre’s mouth. Feyre moaned at the taste, slurping on his fingers loudly. You felt yourself grow wetter at the sight. Rhysand leaned up taking his fingers out and smashing his lips on hers. They made out aggressively, growling and nipping eachother’s lips. You moaned at the sight.

It snapped their attention to you. They broke off the kiss, eyes sliding to your body. Your beautiful body.

“C’mere” Feyre whispered, grabbing you gently and winnowing both you and Rhysand into their room. You landed in the bed. You watched as they undressed quickly, making their way to you. Rhysand approached and dragged you to the edge. He slotted himself in between your legs. His cock was hard and throbbing. It was massive. You wondered how you managed to take it last time. He smiled at your thoughts, petting your thigh softly. Feyre climbed on the bed, straddling your head. Her pussy was glistening and dripping wet.

“Open up darling.” She muttered, lowering herself onto your mouth. You quickly latched on, licking and slurping aggressively against her heat. She tasted so fucking good. Her hips rocked, slowly fucking your face. Her hands found your hair, holding you in place.

Rhysand ran a finger down your lips, watching as you squirmed. He was so hard. Painfully hard. He watched as you desperately slurped on Feyre’s cunt. Like a pathetic little puppy. God. He loved his two lovers so much. He playfully slapped your pussy again, making you whimper against her cunt.

“Shut up. You came without permission, so you don’t get a say in anything else.” Feyre reprimanded, pressing her hips down harder. She watched as you moaned helplessly. Her pussy dripped more juices.

Rhysand rubbed his throbbing tip up and down your slit, lubricating himself. His tongue ran over his lips.

You squeaked when Rhys shoved his long length in, it sliding easily in. It was a tight fit, and heat spread throughout your whole body. It felt like you were on fire. Feyre smirked and continued rutting her pussy on your face, watching as you mouth became a wet mess. She tasted like candy- and fuck it was good. You lapped helplessly on her clit. Rhys’ tip kissed your cervix, pushing. And then he started thrusting. His heavy balls slapped against your ass, creating wet noises.

You couldn’t help your broken moans, suckling on Feyre’s clit, and getting pounded roughly by Rhys. His hand rubbed your thigh, and his other flicked your clit a few times before rubbing it fast. You couldn’t do anything to stop him as you were overcome with an intense amount of pleasure. Feyre grasped your hair tighter, moaning loudly.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” She groaned, watching as you whimpered and licked her desperately. She came in your mouth with a low feminine growl, claws scraping your hair. Her release filled your mouth, and you swallowed it obediently. She moved away, kissing you gently. A sharp contrast from her fucking your face. Rhysand pinched your clit, slamming his cock deeper into you. A familiar knot formed in your stomach, making you moan. His hand moved from your thigh, rising to your stomach where he bulged. He was so deep. He pressed onto it roughly, watching as your back arched.“Stupid slut- you enjoy this so much don’t you? Getting fucked by your two mates. Look how deep I am. Gonna fill this tight little cunt up.” Rhysand stuttered out, his moans filling the room. Feyre moved, letting you see the bulge in your stomach that formed with every thrust up. Holy fuck. His other hand started roughly rubbing your clit.

“No-“ you whined out. It was too much. “Can’t!” Rhysand leaned forward, knocking you in a mating press. His hips snapped roughly into yours. He gently kissed you and leaned over to kiss feyre, ignoring your cries. He only went faster, not listening. He pulled away from Feyre. “Rhys- please-“ You screamed. And then the knot snapped, your body shaking vigorously as you came on his dick.

And he didn’t stop. His hips snapped aggressively, heavy balls full of cum. He snickered as you tried squirming away.

“Where you goin’ baby? Not done yet- gonna stuff this pussy full of cum. You want that right?” He purred, lifting your legs on his shoulders. He gently kissed your ankle. Feyre leaned and started biting and nipping your chest. It was too much.

“Y-yes!” You yelled, feeling dumb fucked. His cock dragged along your walls, aggressively hitting the spot that made your toes curl. Your moans came out in broken chants of their names, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Oh cauldron- gonna cum.” He whimpered out, flicking your clit wildly. His cock slammed in one more time, stilling and releasing ropes of hot cum. The feeling brought you to your next release.

The room filled with pants and the smell of sex. Feyre’s hand gently rubbed your stomach, soothing you. She released your nipple and grinned happily. She brushed back a piece of sweaty hair.

“So cute..” she praised. She kissed your cheek. Rhysand slowly pulled out. He patted your thigh gently.

“Did so good baby.” He praised too. Everything was hazy, and spinning. You were blissed out. He smiled and tapped your face a few times.

“You with us?” He muttered. You nodded. He leaned back and slid a finger in your cunt, causing you to gasp. He pulled it out, stringing your juices and his cum. He smirked and licked it off of his finger.

“Ready?” Feyre asked.

“What?” You questioned.

“Oh cmon on. You didn’t seriously think we were done with our little cum dump yet did you?” She laughed. Rhysand grabbed your hips, flipped you around and pulled your ass high in the air. He leaned down and licked a stripe up your cunt.

“No. We’re far from done.” Your mate whispered, diving in.

[deadpresidents]

Thanks for being real today.

I get people wanting to be hopeful.

But I can't with "it will be okay" and "we will survive this."

It was not okay for Heather Heyer, Joseph Rosenbaum, Anthony Huber, Joyce Fienberg, Richard Gottfried, Rose Mallinger, Jerry Rabinowitz, Cecil & David Rosenthal, Bernice & Sylvan Simon, Daniel Stein, Melvin Wax, Irving Younger, Andre Anchondo, Jordan Anchondo, Arturo Benavides, Leonardo Campos, Angie Englisbee, Maria Flores, Raul Flores, Guillermo "Memo" Garcia, Jorge Calvillo García, Adolfo Cerros Hernández, Alexander Gerhard Hoffman, David Johnson, Luis Alfonzo Juarez, Maria Eugenia Legarreta Rothe, Maribel (Campos) Loya, Ivan Filiberto Manzano, Elsa Mendoza Marquez, Gloria Irma Márquez, Margie Reckard, Sara Esther Regalado Moriel, Javier Rodriguez, Teresa Sanchez, Juan Velazquez, or any of the other people killed by white supremacists whose actions were aided and abetted by the Trump presidency. These people did not survive. Not to mention all the people who haven't survived COVID, but might have if the Trump administration had taken timely action. Or the women who have died after being refused appropriate medical care because of the rapist and his buddies that Trump appointed decided with some weird pastor in the 1600 said was more important than the lives of actual living, breathing, human beings. Or the school children who would not have been shot to death if we had actual gun control laws in this country, a thing that would have been possible to achieve if Trump had lost in 2016.

Yeah, sure, the majority of us in the United States will probably survive. That's how statistics work. And if that's what somebody needs to hear in order to move forward, then I guess saying such things has a purpose. But it's looking pretty shitty for anybody living in Ukraine and to me, it comes across as disrespectful to the people whose lives have been lost in no small part thanks to what goes down in US elections.

I needed somebody today who would say not only that this is not okay, but this is *really* not okay.

Thanks for being that voice.

Thank you for this. I can't help but write what I feel, even if some of it hasn't been the most optimistic message to send. There is a reality that we need to come to terms with in order to find some way forward. I'm pissed off and I'm disgusted with this country, so I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing because it is therapeutic for me right now and I'm too old to go around punching and kicking people.

I do want to say that I'm also cognizant of the fact that some people just need some time to allow this reality to settle. I certainly don't want to add to the stress or darkness that some of us are feeling right now. There is no denying that this is fucking terrible, but we will regroup and find a way through it. It won't be easy and we're going to have to fight, but I don't want anybody to think that there is genuinely no hope. There's always something that we can do, even if it seems bleak.

If I'm writing something or somebody else is saying something that you're not ready to hear, it's okay to do what you need to do to remain healthy. These posts are going to be here whenever you might feel like reading them. You can and should step away from this if you just need a fucking break. It doesn't mean you're any less ready or willing to fight this battle than anybody else. Even if Trump and the rotten MAGA cult takes control of every lever of power, you can gain a personal victory by not allowing them to completely crush your faith in the future. You can be depressed and despair, but do not give up. Do not give them that power over you. We will find a way. We will get through this. We will figure out what it is that we need to do and who we need to back and how we need to attack, but taking care of your personal health and well-being is more immediately important than the bigger political battle or the next step in the resistance. Take care of yourselves first and we'll still be here and ready to eventually harness this anger and frustration and fucking disgust to defeat the MAGA movement and Trump's Christian nationalist personality cult.

The main thing, though, is that if you're really having a tough time in the immediate future, step away, take some time, go for a walk, read something that has absolutely nothing to do with Donald Trump or American politics (if you need suggestions, I always have book recommendations!), and regroup. Again, we'll get through this, and as goofy and weird and ridiculous as Tumblr can be at times, there's always a community of people on this site willing to listen and help each other when we're struggling. So, if you are having trouble getting to tomorrow, reach out because there are scores of people here who will help get there with you.

[coffee-and-tea-time]

TWINS, PRETTY PLEASE, FEED ME MORE OF YOUR DELICIOUS TREATS, I ACCEPT WHATEVER, I LOVE YOUR WRITING

Why being a side character when you can have the spotlight?

Yandere! Circus x reader

Well, this was originally made to relieve some stress but in my defense, you said ‘whatever’ so hope you enjoy this little thingy, muak (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) (btw, I want to do a little pause to thank those who send asks and cute words to us, we even got anons! but y'all will see that in detail later in their own post, just wanted to say ‘love you’ again since they really do warm up our hearts and make us smile although we take our time since well #life #busy) ~ coffee

This honestly wrote itself lol. The story flowed out like an actual dream. I'd say figuring out the logic was the hardest part, so we decided on something simple. Gray morals, but no gray aesthetics! (it sounded like a better line in my head) ~ Tea

word count: 2.2k

tw: manipulation?, gray morals, small swearing, death (not the reader), written in you/yours, reader has a background of being hospitalized, oblivious? but somewhat willing reader, attention starved reader? Well, kinda but we all are. 

....the fuck?

Why is there so much color? This… is really different from the hospital monotone atmosphere… How did you get here? Are you having a lucid dream? It's been a while since the last time you dreamed something, it's good to see colors after some time, even if they are saturated.

“Oh, hello little star, are you lost? Did you escape from somewhere?”

Where did this guy come from? Why does he kinda look like a candy? Although, truth be told, you gotta admit that his pinky hair with pastel violet highlights suits h- Wait a minute…

Is this a circus? Woah, dreamland was nice to you this time. Well, since it's your dream, you can go along with it and enjoy your little ‘freedom’.

“I’m part of this circus, I’m…. the new host”

You watch as glittering sky eyes looks at you with surprise before smiling widely at you, if you look close enough, you can even catch a small shiver of… excitement? Probably.

“Really now? Then you are the starlight here, Dear, why don’tcha let me help ya? I can show you around if you let me, you now, to get our new host comfortable here as soon as possible”

You nod, accepting his hand as he starts showing you around saying ‘the show is about to start’ every now and then, your mind did really make an effort with the aesthetic of this dream, even if the circus colors are somewhat saturated for what you are used to, you can’t help but wow every 2 minutes by how large and amusing this place is, although you wished to stay longer on the food court, it's been so long since the last time you ate this much candy to the point your stomach feels so… huh? Now that you think about it, you can taste things in dreams? Lucid dreams really are something.

“It's still empty because there's a lot of time until the show starts. I would show you the amusement park outside the tent, but there's very little time until the show starts. We should look for the right host outfit for your big debut!”

You can’t really say much as you were practically dragged to a different part of the circus, he is really much stronger that he looks honestly and incredibly fast, dream logic you guess, in a blink, you’re met with the sight of a room with dimensions that are only rational in a dream, like an infinite wardrobe full of extravagant costumes.It was only then when you stood in front of a mirror that you noticed you still had the depressing hospital gown on you… 

“What happened, shining star? Does this style not suit your taste? I can bet you will be the one in the spotlight no matter what you choose to wear. Maybe getting a little stage fright? Do believe me, Dear. You're not the one who has to be afraid on stage"

The once frantic cotton candy-looking man seems to lower the rhythm a bit as he notices the switch on your expression, you can’t help but smile at his sweet tone although his speech has rather weird use of words, well, it's not everyday you can use such eccentric clothes without looking out of place, surely you will soon be woken up by a doctor or a nurse, so at least you can enjoy this while it lasts.

. . . . . .

You spin once again to show off another outfit, he keeps singing praises even thought you understand barely half his words and then nothing, it’s so cute to see him giving a full speech of how the style of the clothing, the colors, the accessories, etc matches perfectly with you, that accidentally you’ve already tried on like 20 different outfits, until you chose the one that got him rambling about how you shine for what feels like 30 minutes straight.

“I think I’d choose this one, thanks… I'm sorry, what's your name?”

You feel kinda awkward when you notice you never asked him his name until now, but he seems like he doesn't mind at all as he smiles at you and offers you his hand to guide you again through the circus.

“Aw, and here I thought you would give me a pet name and start calling me ‘sweetie’, I was starting to like you calling me ‘cotton candy’, you know? What a shame… It's not too late to start tho, but if you are too shy and need some time, my name is Pandora”

Pandora? Wait, you also never asked him what’s his role in this circus or anything about him and before you notice, he is handing you a cute looking mic with a toothy grin, that's when you realized that the show is about to start. You feel an anxious voice in the back of your head telling you this is gonna go wrong, yet you silence it by telling yourself that it’s just a silly dream, how bad could it be?

“I'm sure everyone will find joy in your presence like I do. Don't think too much, just have fun, starlight”

Before you could think more or ask for some advice, he disappears out of the blue after passing you some well decorated notes that got some of the information about the spectacles of today and even giving you a kiss of good luck on the forehead but you can't even finish reading when the first sentence when the heavy red curtains open in front of you… Fuck it, If you have to die, let it be at once.

“Nighty night Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls! Welcome to the best nightmare you will ever experience! Tonight, we invite you to leave your worries at the door and submerge into this spectacle of wonder and amazement. Prepare to be dazzled, enchanted and thrilled as we take your breath away with no devolution! So, without further ado, let’s begin! Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! Our beloved Brutus will have the honor to be the first show of the night!”

Thanks god the first note was the intro speech and that you managed to read it right even if it’s weirdly written, for your dream seems to run out of creativity and consistency, where the ‘audience’ should be is in complete darkness, you can only manage to see tons of colorful and somewhat happy eyes, but you held a cheerful smile in your face, this dream is surely about to end. Hope you manage to see the first show before waking up, Brutus is a dog’s name so it's probably the lion act, right?

You see two jesters waving at the public as they appear magically thanks to a moving platform with a big cage behind them which has inside an intimidating, goth pastel looking guy with ash blonde hair and a choker with spikes and a tag that reads… Brutus. Did your brain forget how lions look and improvised or something? At least the guy doesn't seem uncomfortable in there as he gives such a confident smirk that makes his fangs stick out, walking out the cage almost smugly. When all the focus was back on you, you knew it was time for the host to speak again, so you quickly changed to the next note.

“Our first show of the night will work for the new audience and me, the new host, to give a smooth introduction of our beloved circus, rest assured that we will continue the next shows with the same energy as before, this is just a welcome gift for… our beloved new host”

Did Pandora write this while you were changing? Why does it feel so odd? Well, your question quickly find an answer when in another platform from the other side start to ascend to reveal a man that’s got this mortified expression on his face even crawls towards you to hold your ankles while repeating ‘I’m sorry’ ‘I didn’t mean it’ ‘I’ll be more better’ and stuff like that, is your dream turning into a nightmare?

“Host, the order, please”

You turn to focus on the voice, it was Brutus, right beside you, when did he get so close? Well, apparently, he needs a word to perform his show? Like an obedient dog. Well, you would do better without having a weird man clinging to your leg, so at least he would take him off you.

“Brutus, play”

Oh no, you didn’t see that coming.

Before you could even retrieve your command Brutus lunged forward, his claw-like nails digging into the flesh of the man's hand. Deep crimson staining the brightly colored scene as the screams of the man marked the moment his hands left your leg. It was brutal, for lack of a better Word, how Brutus clawed at the man's flesh with each swing as he screamed and crawled on the floor, splashing and smearing more blood onto the stage, the cage, the jesters, even you. But nobody even flinched, not even you.

The scene was plagued with the laughter of the unseen audience, the oddly cheery music that accompanied the circus atmosphere now sounding like something out of a horror movie, though it didn't seem to phase you just yet. Things were blurry, up until the jesters began their speech.

"Behold the crude man's punishment. seems too much? Well, let us explain!" said one, the other simply finishing up the other´s speech like they were one in the same.

"Oh this filthy creature, his mind as filthy as his scent, ew! does he even shower? he does, but that's the scent of a perverted beast everyone!!"

What the hell is happening here?! Everything is tainted on the man's blood, and these two jesters are just… joking around!? It's their job, sure, but really?!

You can hear Brutus's grunts and huffs as the man's screams grow thinner and thinner, the wet sound of flesh being slashed and blood splashing, trickling down onto the floor of the stage now louder than the man himself. This is sick, twisted, horrifying. This isn't a dream, it's a nightmare you want to wake up from, your own mind screams at you to stop this, to wake up but it doesn't. What 's going on?!

"Could you imagine this pile of shit as a doctor?" 

"We might have done his horrid face a favor with all those slashes! look at that gorgeous red!!"

As the jesters continue to joke and pick on the man, you can't help but pick up on their words… a doctor? A pervert? What does this mean? You search through your memory, which quickly arrives at the familiar face of one of the doctors at the hospital your body surely would be sleeping in right now, the one doctor that appeared so attentive to your care, though never seemed to completely gain your trust in some point you asked to get your doctor changed because how odd his gaze was… did he appear in your dreams as a pervert because of that?

“Kids, adults, elderly! This is something y’all need to remember, sometimes… You have to judge the book by its cover! Look at this disgusting looking man, who is also disgusting on the inside like a movie with no twist”

“Indeed, can y’all believe it? We almost end up without our dear new host because of this oink oink of a person”

You can help but be surprised as you suddenly got mentioned on this… wait, did they just literally say that the doctor really wanted to do something to you? Wasn't it just a paranoia of yours? This… feels too personal to be just a dream.

“I-I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING I DIDN’T EVEN GOT THE TIME TO TRY BEFORE I-”

He tried to explain that clumsily his innocence because with the fact he didn't do anything physical in a bloody murder scream before Brutus lets out a maniacal laugh and makes him scream even louder... so he did think about it? Would you have planned it? What would have happened if... Can you really say that is 'innocent'?

… Why doesn't it feel bad? It's wrong to kill for something that didn't actually take place, even if it was a fantasy, you can’t really manage to feel pity for the situation happening right in front of you.

Is your dream testing how gray your morals are? Some kind of punishment of your mind?

I s  t h i s  e v e n  a  d r e a m ?

And if it isn't... does it matter? Why care? You're Not the one gross enough to end up like that.

With a quick sweep of the curtains you came from, you would've seen Pandora peeking from the sidelines, his stare dazzling, overjoyed as he saw the turmoil in your gaze as it stared at the gruesome scene before you, how it went from horror, to shock, to understanding and… apathy. Saying he was glad would be an understatement, he was ecstatic, it seemed you had found your place in this circus sooner than he expected. For once, his decision was correct at the first strike!

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest ⚘

[theetherealbloom]

WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 3 | 14th Doctor

Chapter Three: Guess The Space Was The Thing That I Needed, But I Miss You

Summary: You arrived on present-day Earth engulfed in violence and chaos. And a familiar foe who transcends the universe’s laws and logic. He hails from a realm where science is a game, but that salt trick apparently blurred the lines of reality enough for him to enter your universe.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance, Character Death, 

Word Count: 15.5k

A/N: Hello old friend, and here we are, you and me on the last… chapter. When I posted the first chapter of this mini-series I was honestly terrified of the response I would be getting. I hadn’t been writing for a while due to stress or lack of motivation. But then the miracle called the Doctor Who specials came into existence and here we are. Also, Merry Christmas Eve! Here’s my little gift to you. I hope you enjoy. (P.S. yes there will be an epilogue :>)

Song: This Love by Taylor Swift (Taylor's Version)

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

ENGLAND, THE STREETS OF LONDON — DAY, 2023

The world descends into turmoil and pandemonium as cars collide, their metal frames screeching against each other. The air is filled with the cacophony of people shouting and screaming. Amidst the mayhem, you, the Doctor, and Donna navigate the tumult, pushing Wilf's wheelchair through the chaotic landscape. Struggling through the disarray, people around you engage in fights and heated arguments, adding to the surreal spectacle of disorder unfolding.

As the rumble of a truck engine grows louder, a man defiantly strides onto the road, seemingly prepared to challenge the oncoming driver. Reacting swiftly, both you and the Doctor extend your arms, urgently intervening. You exclaim, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Excuse me. Can you tell me, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

The elderly man, with an air of self-assuredness, retorts, "I can’t drive."

Perplexed, you furrow your brow and inquire, "Okay, so— Which means?"

Meanwhile, a car behind you impatiently honks, prompting the Doctor to raise his hand, signaling the driver to wait. Unperturbed, the stranger in front of you explains, "I pay my taxes. Which means I paid for this road. It is mine, and I will do with it what I like."

The Doctor interjects, cautioning, "You’ll get yourself killed."

The man, with a sneer and a narrowed gaze, replies, "It’s my life, not yours." Undeterred, the Doctor suggests, "But you could just stand over there and be safe."

Flailing his arms emphatically, the man retorts, "Blame them! Because it all changed two days ago. Everyone started thinking they’re right all the time. And they won’t change their mind. If you try to argue, they go mad. Well, not me. I’ve always been right."

The deafening honk of the truck intensifies as it barrels forward, compelling the Doctor to swiftly seize you and yank you out of harm's way. In the chaos, you unintentionally collide with a well-dressed man adorned in a tuxedo, complete with a top hat and a staff in his left hand. Apologizing in a refined manner, he utters, "Oh, excusez-moi, madame et monsieur, je suis désolé. But perhaps you will dance avec moi."

He then takes the lead in an impromptu dance, placing his hand just above your waist and swaying with you amidst the bedlam unfolding on the street. In a rather peculiar tone, he utters, "Ooh la la."

Feeling uncomfortable, you gently pull away from the eccentric stranger. The Doctor, sensing your unease, protectively tucks you behind his body and asserts, "That's my wife, sir. Excuse me." With a subtle maneuver, he guides you away, back to where Donna and Wilf are positioned on the side of the street.

Amidst the cacophony of screaming voices echoing through the chaotic streets, the peculiar stranger continues his solo dance, creating a bizarre spectacle in the midst of the turmoil. The distant whirr of a helicopter above adds to the disconcerting atmosphere, leaving you and the Doctor with a growing sense of panic, a shared feeling of confusion about the unfolding events.

Armored vehicles roll onto the scene, their imposing presence and military precision contrasting sharply with the chaotic backdrop. A soldier, wielding a loud megaphone, calls out with urgency, "Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Stay where you are. You are UNIT control. Repeat, UNIT control."

The soldiers swiftly move into action, their movements coordinated as they converge on your location. One of them confidently asserts, "Go, go, go! Let’s move! Eyes on, eyes on! I got them." The atmosphere shifts from anarchic confusion to a semblance of organized control as UNIT takes charge.

The authoritative figure from UNIT, Colonel Ibrahim, strides forward, a no-nonsense expression etched on his face. "Doctor, Stargazer, I’m Colonel Ibrahim of UNIT squad five," he declares with military precision. He gestures toward a waiting vehicle, a subtle urgency in his stance.

Donna, the voice of concern, steps forward, her plea directed at the Colonel. "Get him to safety. All right? Never mind about us. I want my grandad safe. All right? You got that?" Her words carry the weight of a granddaughter determined to ensure the safety of her grandad, emphasizing the weight of the situation.

Colonel Ibrahim gives an assertive nod, his military demeanor unwavering. "Yes, ma’am. We’ll keep your family safe," he assures Donna. Wilf, displaying concern for his granddaughter's well-being, encourages her, "You go with the Doctor."

Amidst the organized chaos of UNIT soldiers following orders, a palpable sense of unease settles over you. A feeling of being observed intensifies, prompting you to instinctively clasp the Doctor’s hand. Together, your hearts quicken as you turn to the left, discovering the stranger with whom you shared an odd dance. He stands eerily still, offering a disconcerting smile and a small wave, sending shivers down your spine.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Seated alongside the Doctor in the first helicopter, you peer out of the window, taking in the chaotic scene below. The city is ablaze, casting an eerie glow that turns the world outside into a disorienting spectacle, as if the very fabric of reality has been upended. The second helicopter follows closely, bearing the weight of the TARDIS, an emblem of hope amidst the turmoil. The flickering flames paint a surreal canvas against the night sky, leaving you with a profound sense of displacement.

The helicopter sets down on the helipad at the UNIT headquarters, and as you disembark, the brisk wind from the rotor blades whips through the air. Donna clutches her coat tightly, shouting over the din, "Oh, here comes trouble."

Shirley, in her wheelchair, wheels forward with a wide smile, greeting you with a warm, "I could say the same thing about you." The TARDIS touches down nearby on the helipad, and amidst the noise, the Doctor remarks, "Shirley, you can’t be serious." Shirley squeezes your arm in a friendly greeting.

Chief Scientific Officer Kate, your boss, appears on the scene, her short blonde hair bouncing slightly as she strides towards the group. The Doctor, arms outstretched, exclaims, "And Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. I remember your father working night and day to keep UNIT a secret. Look at you now. Out and proud defending the Earth."

Kate embraces the Doctor tightly before turning to you with a subdued smile, saying, "I fought them all. Robots and insects and yetis and clones. But what do we do this time, Doctor? How do we fight the human race?"

Inside the UNIT headquarters, the large steel doors close behind you, shutting out the chaos. The new HQ unfolds before your eyes, with the hum of radio chatter and the bustle of people. Multiple screens and tables with keyboards fill the room, and a triple giant screen at the center displays various statistics and news outlets reporting the devastation around the world.

Kate hands the tablet to the Doctor, and you lean over to peer at the symbols and graphs displayed on it. The Doctor, engrossed in the data, doesn't look up as he remarks, "Good, good, good. Now, what have we got? Are these worldwide? 'Cause I'm gonna need all of the statistics."

As he turns to his right, an exclamation of surprise escapes him. Your gaze follows his, and there stands a very familiar redheaded companion and colleague. She grins at the Doctor's reaction, and he joyfully exclaims, "Oh! That is the best news! Melanie, hello!"

Both you and the Doctor share a brief hug with Mel, who giggles and adds, "We'll catch up later. We haven't got time." You chime in with a playful, "Ta-da! Surprise, Doctor."

Turning to you, the Doctor asks, "You knew?"

You playfully roll your eyes and retort, "We work together, dear." Mel adds, "We also try to meet every Saturday for a cuppa."

Mel tilts her head slightly, addressing Donna with a warm smile, "I used to be like you. I was one of their companions." Donna gasps, exclaiming, "I wasn't the first redhead?"

With a shake of her head, Mel allows her large red curls to bounce, "No. That was me."

Donna awkwardly chuckles as the Doctor takes his glasses and wears them, quipping, "Although don't say companion. That sounds like we park him on the seafront at Weston-super-mare."

As Shirley pushes herself off the wheelchair, standing and giving Donna a look, Donna suddenly realizes what she said and turns to face Shirley, asking, "Is 'park' rude?" Shirley replies with a monotone voice, "Borderline." Donna winces in response.

In the heart of the command center, Kate stands with authority, her tablet in hand, and announces, "And stations. Gold Protocols. The Doctor and the Stargazer are in the room. Report."

Shirley adjusts her stance, her voice cutting through the air, "Two days ago, an increase in violence worldwide. The same increase in every country, all rising at exactly the same rate."

"Basically, every single human being thinks they're right and won't be told otherwise," Kate says, moving to stand next to you. Colonel Ibrahim adds, "That plane crash, the F665, Boston to Heathrow. The pilot declared his right to land wherever he wants."

On the screen, footage of the crazed pilot plays. His eyes were wide, he laughs amidst the blaring alarms of his instruments, declaring, "I'm coming home. Lookout, London. Daddy's coming home!"

In the tension-filled room, the Doctor initiates, "If everyone is going mad—" and Kate concurs, completing the thought, "So is the government."

Shirley, with a solemn nod, swipes on the screen of her tablet, unveiling footage of the current Prime Minister. He stands on a podium, his laughter echoing as he addresses the nation, "What do I care? I mean, seriously? Why should I care about you?"

In the aftermath of Donna's nonchalant remark, injecting a touch of humor with her observation, "No change there then," the room grapples with the unsettling scenes unfolding on the screen. The Doctor, now reclaiming the tablet, hands it back to Mel, who places it on her station. His gaze then sweeps across the room, and he remarks, "But you're fine. You're completely normal. And that's because of the—" He gestures towards the silver bands adorned with a glowing blue light worn around their arms.

Kate steps in to elaborate, "Oh, we call it the Zeedex." As the room processes this information, a robot's machine voice chimes in from the far left, connected to tubes and sporting screens, proudly announcing, "An invention of the Vlinx."

Taking a step forward, the Doctor addresses the robotic AI, "Hello, the Vlinx. I'm the Doctor, and this is my wife, the Stargazer."

Quick to clarify, you interject, "Not married yet."

"Just practicing," the Doctor playfully hums before turning his attention back to the Vlinx. With curiosity piqued, he queries, "So why's it called the Zeedex?"

In response to the Vlinx's brief explanation, "Good name," the Doctor emits a small, contemplative "Oh." Kate supplements the information, stating, "It disrupts the brain. Flattens the spike. Keeps everything calm."

With a slight scrunch of your nose, you inquire, "And the spike is?"

"I think I need to show you," Kate responds. Sensing a shift in the room, she commands Shirley, "Activate brain scan."

"Activating, ma'am," Shirley acknowledges. A beep emanates from the computer, and the screen displays the frequency inside Kate's brain. She points out, "That's my brain activity. Seems normal, albeit slightly heightened, given the end of the world. Now keep your eyes on the scan."

Kate moves to the center of the room and instructs, "And deactivate my Zeedex."

Shirley types on the keyboard, announcing, "Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, off." The light on her silver armband extinguishes. Kate takes a moment to scan the room, hands on hips, and asks, "Well?"

You gently interject, "Uh, hello?"

"Hello," Kate replies promptly, but her narrowed eyes betray suspicion. The Doctor poses a simple question, "How are you?"

"Fine," she responds.

You casually inquire, "Busy day?" Kate's nostrils flare, and she glares at you, retorting, "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just asking. Is that a problem?" you reply, observing the increased spike in brain activity. Kate aggressively points at you, asserting, "It's an invasion of my privacy. In fact, it's an assault on my civic rights. And I think it's highly relevant that the person demanding information from me is an alien."

The Doctor turns to Shirley, nodding in approval for her to activate her Zeedex, and calmly says, "Okay."

However, Kate abruptly interjects, rejecting the Doctor's initiative, "No, no, no, no, no. I think you'll find that I'm in charge here." With a swift motion, she rips off her Zeedex, launching into an impassioned tirade, "And we've been infiltrated by aliens, a man and a woman with two hearts," she points accusatorily at the Doctor, "a man who changes his face and cannot be trusted."

As her anger intensifies, Kate aggressively directs her accusations at Donna and Mel, both with red hair, insinuating a conspiracy. You instinctively step forward, shielding them from Kate's escalating rage.

Growing more incensed, Kate turns her ire towards Shirley, who looks on with mild dissatisfaction. Kate singles out your friend and declares, "And as for her, in that chair. I've seen you walk. I've seen you walking! Don't deny it!"

UNIT soldiers move in to pull Kate away, and she unleashes her fury at you, "And you! This is all your fault! If you hadn't fallen into the bloody time rift, altering the universe with your existence and falling in love with the Doctor—none of this would have happened!"

The soldiers carefully escort Kate away, and the Doctor swiftly positions himself in front of you, protectively shielding you from lingering gazes. You bury your face in his shoulder as Kate continues to shout, "No, you can't stop me. It's about time you heard the truth."

One of the soldiers places the silver band back on Kate's arm and commands, "Activate Zeedex," resulting in a beep and the restoration of the blue light on her band. Kate sits on the floor, panting, as the tension in the room eases.

You lift your head from the Doctor's shoulder and nod, silently assuring him that you're okay. Together, you approach Kate, who is visibly distressed, covering her face with her hand. She breathes out an apology, "I'm sorry."

Both you and the Doctor shake your heads, reassuring her, "No, it's okay."

Gasping for air, Kate turns to Shirley, mortified, realizing the extent of her outburst. She says, "Shirley, I'm so sorry."

Shirley dismisses the need for an apology, "Absolutely no need."

UNIT soldiers help Kate to her feet as she acknowledges, "It's not just me. It keeps spiking inside every single person's head."

"But what does that mean? Is it being beamed in from outside?" Donna inquires. The Vlinx responds, "No. It is natural. It is generated inside the brain."

Donna points out, "But not me. Not Grandad." Mel adds, "Nor me. I'm wearing a Zeedex just in case, but I've been fine. Well, no more opinionated than usual." Donna sighs, "You and me both."

You and the Doctor ponder the situation, and he suggests, "Maybe long-term travel in the TARDIS put you out of sync."

Donna shakes her head and proposes, "Can't you give everyone a Zeedex?" Kate scoffs at the idea, gesturing to the screen behind her, where a late-night talk show host expresses her skepticism, "They're using this to control us and monitor us. And microwave our brains. I am anti-Zeedex!"

The Doctor, in response, asks you to help him with his coat. You take it from him and neatly place it on a chair. He then stands next to Shirley and suggests, "Can we filter this wavelength? Lose the background noise."

Shirley hums in response, typing away on her keyboard, "Uh-huh. Gives us a strong coherent wave in seizure focus. Peaking seven times."

As you consider the recent events, you voice your thoughts, "So, this started two days ago. But why then? What else happened on that day?" Kate responds, "Exactly. We've been looking for a trigger, and there's this."

The screen illuminates with the image of a satellite gracefully orbiting the Earth, accompanied by detailed blueprints on the left side. Kate elucidates, "The KOSAT 5 satellite, launched by South Korea, activated two days ago.”

Shirley, with a swift gesture, adds to the explanation by displaying a live feed of the satellite, which hovers 36,000 kilometers above Earth. Kate expounds further, “KOSAT is the final link in the chain. The world is now 100% online. From the highest mountain to the deepest valley on Earth, everyone is connected.”

"But KOSAT is clean. We’ve checked and double-checked. It’s not like the old Archangel Network. There’s nothing hiding in that signal." Shirley asserts, and the Doctor, with a contemplative hum, adds, “And yet.” He shakes his head, “For the first time in history, everyone has access to this.” He taps on the edge of one of the monitors, saying, “A screen.”

"What if it’s a tune?" Donna asks, prompting you and the Doctor to turn around and face her.

"What?" The Doctor inquires as you move to stand in front of her. Donna continues, "I know we’ve only got minutes left to live, but give me a second." Donna begins to draw lines on a clipboard with a piece of paper as she explains, "Because I spent six months teaching my daughter how to play the recorder till she said, ‘This is not who I am.’ That was the start of a whole other conversation, believe you me.”

She places the sheet of paper on the screen, drawing dots on the corresponding line, “But if… you look at these seven peaks, like this…”

She flips the sheet of paper around, revealing what you recognize to be music notes, and Donna confirms this by saying, “Maybe it's music.”

“A classic arpeggio. Middle C, an octave higher.” Mel says before she sings in arpeggio, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

“Oh.” Kate says as if she remembers something, and you look around to see others having the same reaction, as if they’ve heard it before. You and the Doctor look around and ask, “What? What is it?”

Mel repeats her tune, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

Donna gasps, her eyes slightly watering and her blue eyes shining as she says, “I know that tune.”

“I-I know that from somewhere. What are the notes?” Shirley asks, spinning her chair to face you, and you read them off, “C, E, G, C, G, E, C. It’s a musical palindrome.” Then you sigh, “But it’s just a straightforward arpeggio. Everyone knows arpeggios.”

“It’s a basic tune. So, the question is, why are we all reacting to this one?” Mel asks as everyone looks around at each other. You and the Doctor frown, and he says, “We’re not. The Vlinx?”

“Negative.” The Vlinx replies promptly, and you hum out loud, “Just the humans.”

“It’s just— It’s so familiar. It’s like it’s been buried in my head for years.” Donna says and groans, “What is it?”

Then you hear giggling from across the room, a nearby station. You and the Doctor turn to see Shirley pointing to her screen, a puppet in black and white display as she says, “I found the exact same notes.”

The puppet begins to laugh in arpeggio, and you and the Doctor realize it at the same time. The Doctor says, “Oh, it’s not a tune. It’s a laugh.”

“It’s a puppet.” Kate says as she stares wide-eyed at the screen featuring the puppet.

“The giggle in everyone’s head.” You say as you stand behind Shirley, looking at the monitor as it continues to laugh in the arpeggio notes.

“What is that thing?” Donna asks, and Shirley explains, “Stooky Bill, the first face ever to appear on television. Put there by John Logie Baird himself.”

Donna shakes her head and points at Stooky displayed on the monitor, “I’ve never seen him before, so how do— How do I know that laugh?”

You blink a few times before realizing out loud, saying, “If the very first image has been hiding in every screen since… sneaking into your head, carving a wave, and waiting…”

“But hiding how? If there were secret pictures hiding in every television, we would have found it,” Shirley asks, so sure of herself and UNIT’s capabilities. The Doctor then sassily and in a mocking tone replies, “Oh, why? Because you’re so clever? Maybe Stooky Bill’s a lot smarter than you.” Shirley raises her eyebrows and puckers her lips, somewhat agreeing to the possibility.

“Imagine… if he burnt himself into television itself and every picture ever since, every single one.” You say before taking out your sonic screwdriver, pointing to one of the monitors, and clicking the button. It whizzes, and the image of Stooky Bill appears. The woman who sat by that desk pushes back her chair in shock, and he is mockingly laughing as you hear the notes in the air.

“Screen… after screen, after screen.” You use your sonic screwdriver, tapping on each station's monitor, revealing Stooky Bill as it continues to reverberate its laughs.

The Doctor joins in, using his sonic on an employee’s phone in their hands. He says as he clicks his sonic screwdriver, “And every type of screen.” The Doctor taps on Kate’s tablet, showing the image of Stooky Bill. He says, “Every one and everywhere. He’s inside ‘em all!”

You move to stand in the very front of the room, center, pointing your sonic at the large screens. “And two days ago, he finally connected worldwide, branding his Giggle into your brains.” The sonic screwdriver warbles, and images of Stooky Bill, along with his laugh, appear on the large monitor.

The Doctor stands by your side, adding in a low voice, “Since the very first existence of television. Laughing at the human race. And driving you mad.”

The entire group gathers for a small meeting by the large metal doors that lead to the helipad outside. You stand in a circle, positioned by the Doctor’s side, his glasses tucked away in his pocket. Kate tries to grasp the newfound knowledge as she asks, “But something at that scale, over so many years, who could do that?”

The Doctor's countenance turns wrathful, and you sense the heat and intensity radiating from his body as he retorts, "The puppet’s just a puppet. We’re looking for the puppeteer." He then pauses, taking a deep breath that puffs out his chest as he crosses his arms. Speaking with a low intensity, he adds, "And I’ve got a memory. I think something’s coming back… after a very long time."

Raising his voice to address everyone, he grits his teeth, "But it’s not only the giggle. Don’t go thinking you’ve got an excuse. The human race might be clever and bright and brilliant." His words are delivered with a hint of disgust, "But it’s also savage and venal and relentless."

The Doctor points to the screens showcasing people causing havoc around the world as he vehemently declares, "All the anger out there on the street. The lies, the righteousness." Jabbing a finger at the rest of the group, he continues, "That’s human. That’s you. That’s who you are. Using you’re intelligence to be stupid. Poisoning the world. And hating each other, you’ve never needed any help with that!”

He briefly pauses, toning down his voice as he says, “But today, something else is using your worst attributes. Playing with you. Like toys.” A chill runs down your spine as a distant memory starts to resurface, hinting at an old-time foe returning to wreak havoc. You blink, a hunch forming about who might be orchestrating all of the catastrophe.

“Can we take that satellite out?” The Doctor asks Kate, and she replies promptly, “All missiles are on lockdown, but we’ve got the Galvanic Beam.”

“What range?” You inquire, and Kate explains, “We could pick off a pebble on the moon. Trouble is, taking out a South Korean satellite will have international consequences, so we’ve been waiting for permission. All world leaders are being affected by the Giggle.”

The Doctor nods and says, “You have my permission.” He then looks to you, and you deeply sigh, nodding, “And you have mine.”

Kate nods to Colonel Ibrahim, signaling to get the Galvanic Beam ready. Then, she turns to you and the Doctor, “Thank you, Doctor and Stargazer.” Kate moves past you, announcing to the entire UNIT staff on the floor, “Gold protocol override. All staff, initiate Galvanic activation. Bring up the beam.”

“Platform in motion,” an employee's voice echoes through the speaker as the platform outside the tower shifts downward.

“Shirley, have we got the exact date that Logie Baird made that transmission?” The Doctor asks aloud, to which Shirley responds with determination, “I’ll find it,” and begins clicking away on her keyboard.

“All clear on the helipad,” another employee announces over the speaker as The Doctor walks over to Mel’s station, and you make your way towards Shirley, beginning to help her locate the date of the transmission.

The Doctor leans over Mel’s shoulder, and she says to him, “I fed the KOSAT fake coordinates, so it’s coming into UK orbit. Within range in three minutes.” The Doctor compliments her, “You’re brilliant.” He then looks at her with a smile, “Hello.” Mel replies with her own smile, the kind that reaches her eyes as she says, “Hi.”

You glance over to see the Doctor and Mel chatting as they work, and a sense of happiness and comfort washes over you, knowing Mel is okay. After a few minutes, you hear Mel announce to everyone, “Galvanic Beam payload boarding.”

“Platform locking at level 55,” an employee announces over the intercom, and Mel continues, “Galvanic Beam in position. KOSAT in range in 90 seconds.”

A beep emanates from Shirley’s computer, and your eyes quickly scan over the words before Shirley turns her head and says to the Doctor, “Doctor, Stooky Bill was televised on the 2nd of October 1925 at 22 Frith Street, Soho, W1D 4RF.”

You grab the Doctor’s coat from the chair and hand it to him as he says to Kate, “Fire when ready. Don’t wait for us.” He then looks to Colonel Ibrahim, quickly asking, “TARDIS?”

The Colonel points as he replies promptly, “Suite 17.”

The Doctor grunts, “Okay.” After putting on his coat, he grabs your hand, pulling you along with him as Donna says to you both, “You’re not going without me.”

As you enter the suite and find the TARDIS parked there, the Doctor quickly unlocks it with his key and rushes inside, with you and Donna trailing right behind him. Time’s running out, always running out, and every road you discover disappears under your feet. Because if nothing else, you're given a little time to change the game, a chance to redefine everything.

SOHO — 1925

The TARDIS whooshes and whizzes, finally giving a loud thud as it lands. The Doctor opens the door first, popping his head out to check if it’s safe before allowing you and Donna to step out into the dimly lit alley where the TARDIS is parked. The flickering gas lamps cast a warm glow, highlighting the cobblestone street and the faint echoes of distant chatter.

The Doctor announces to the two of you, “Soho, 1925.”

“So, what about Mel?” Donna asks, wiggling her eyebrows playfully at the two of you. You let out a chuckle, saying, “She’s brilliant, isn’t she?”

Donna laughs with a smile, “Yeah, but I just kept thinking, all this time, you’ve never mentioned her.”

The Doctor addresses Donna with a frown, “Donna, we’re a billion years old. If we stood and talked about everyone we’d ever met, we’d still be in the TARDIS yapping.”

“So you talk about no one ever?” Donna asks, and you look away guiltily. Donna continues, “You just keep charging on.”

“Yes, because I’m busy. Like now,” the Doctor replies.

“But you are busy every second of every day. I mean, look at us now. We haven’t stopped,” Donna points out, and you all come to a halt by the sidewalk. She continues, “I saw you, Doctor. I got a glimpse inside your mind.” The three of you stand on the sidewalk, surrounded by the ambient sounds of 1925 London, as Donna expresses, “And it’s like you’re staggering. You are staggering along. Maybe that’s why your old face came back. You’re wearing yourself out.”

You observe as the Doctor contemplates her words, his expression revealing a momentary reflection on her insight. However, he doesn't directly acknowledge them. Instead, he smoothly shifts the topic, saying, "Stooky Bill might be on Frith Street, but the question is, where did Stooky Bill come from?”

His gaze shifts to the bright red shop on the street labeled Mr. Emporium above the store. The three of you cross the street, anticipation building as you peek through the window. There, you spot someone engaged in a playful exchange with the Doctor, both figures playing peek-a-boo before the mysterious man expertly hops down to conceal himself. The Doctor's expression tightens with anger as he forcefully shoves the door open, pulling back the maroon curtains, and the three of you step into the enchanting toy store.

The atmosphere is filled with wonder and a touch of nostalgia as you take in the whimsical surroundings. Shelves adorned with a myriad of toys, each telling a story of childhood innocence and imagination. The air is scented with a mix of wooden toys, plush animals, and the faint fragrance of freshly painted models.

As you step further into the store, your disbelief intensifies as you recognize the man orchestrating this peculiar encounter. An old foe, one who could have channeled his creativity for good, yet chose to warp reality into a twisted game where play meant suffering for others. Dressed in a crisp white button-up and a vibrant red apron, he skillfully juggles three balls, his voice carrying a distinct German accent as he addresses you, "Die ball is die first game ever being invented."

He throws a ball towards you, only for the Doctor to swiftly intercept it before it makes contact with your stomach. Without missing a beat, the Doctor tosses it away onto the ground. Meanwhile, the man behind the counter continues his mesmerizing juggling act, sharing his narrative, "Stone Age man, he picked up ein rock." The Doctor catches another ball skillfully, and with a nonchalant toss, sends it away.

The rhythmic cadence of his speech, accompanied by the mesmerizing flow of his juggling, weaves an enchanting atmosphere within the toy store. The balls dance through the air, tracing whimsical patterns, adding a touch of magic to the man's storytelling. With a gleam in his eye, he continues narrating, "He said, ‘Oh! Das ist ein Ball.’"

The sequence of throw and catch becomes a rhythmic ballet, each movement a beat in the peculiar symphony unfolding before you. "He threw it, und he killed a man," he declares with a dramatic flair, followed by a nonchalant toss.

Another cycle of throw and catch commences, and he recounts, "He said, ‘Oh, what fun!’" The balls move effortlessly in the air, and the ambiance resonates with a sense of playfulness.

"Und now, everybody loves the balls," he proclaims, the balls gliding through the air in a mesmerizing display. Every throw, catch, and toss adds to the building tension in the tale.

"Until the year five billion. When the very last human picks up the skull of his enemy," he declares, the tone shifting slightly, yet maintaining the captivating rhythm. The balls continue their dance, and he winks as he concludes, "Und said, ‘That is the final ball of all,’ jah?"

As he tosses another ball, the vibrant atmosphere in the toy store takes a sudden turn when Donna, with a determined air, steps forward and effortlessly catches the ball with a single hand. Her gaze, firm and unyielding, pierces through the whimsical scene as she asserts, "Enough."

The man behind the counter raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, Donna Noble. I wondered which one of you had the balls," he retorts, his words carrying a playful undertone. Donna, taken aback, attempts to brush it off with a casual, "Okay. So you know my name?" The man, still smirking, raises both eyebrows in response.

Curiosity sparking, Donna seeks answers. "How do you three know each other?" she questions, her tone holding a mix of suspicion and intrigue. In response, the Doctor, donning a low, stern tone and a deep frown that accentuates the lines on his face, issues a command, "Star, Donna, go back to the TARDIS." The urgency in his voice hints at a deeper concern, urging them to retreat from the unfolding confrontation.

Donna, wearing a perplexed expression, seeks clarification, "What?"

The Doctor, frustration evident in his gritted teeth, reiterates his command, "Go back to the TARDIS."

You, however, defiantly shake your head. "As much as I love you bossing me around, you do not get to tell me to leave you here with him." The tension in the air thickens, with unspoken concerns lingering between all of you.

"Oh, but he is recognizing me," he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You whip your head back to the man behind the counter, the one who revels in tricks and games for sheer amusement. Chaos and discord personified, he continues, "Are you not 'ge-pleased,' Herr Doctor und Stargazer, to see me again after so many years?"

Donna, finally seeking clarity, asks, "Who is he?" Flashbacks of memories flood your mind.

The Doctor answers, "The Toymaker." As the realization sinks in, the atmosphere in the room starts to change.

The Toymaker gives a bow, a theatrical flourish that befits his whimsical yet ominous presence. Abruptly changing accents, he addresses with a menacing tone, "We meet again, Doctor, Stargazer."

But just as swiftly, the Toymaker's demeanor undergoes a shift. Stepping backward, he adopts a German accent, prompting curiosity. "But think, if the ball was the very first game, what was the second?"

With a mischievous grin, he seizes both ends of the curtain behind him and declares, "Hide-and-seek!" The Toymaker pulls the curtain shut, his laughter echoing in the room in those distinctive arpeggio notes.

The Doctor vaults over the counter, deftly pushing aside the two curtains, only to discover the Toymaker's disappearance. Behind the curtains lies a door, and with a quick turn of the copper-colored knob, the Doctor reveals a seemingly endless hallway. Warm-toned lights bathe the corridor in a gentle glow, wooden floorboards creak, and numerous doors line both sides of the mysterious passage.

As the Doctor steps forward, guided by an instinct you and Donna share, the door abruptly slams shut behind both of you. Turning sharply, the Doctor commands, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Go back.” With a quick twist of the doorknob, it should logically lead you out, but instead, it reveals the same seemingly endless hallway. Donna, her mouth agape, exclaims, “It’s bigger than the shop. Don’t tell me he’s got his own TARDIS.”

“The TARDIS is an idea the Toymaker would throw away,” the Doctor spits out with disdain as you three stride down the hallway. He continues, “We’ve stepped inside his domain, and it’s governed by the rules of play.” The Doctor turns to the door on his left, confidently opening it. Donna and you follow him, but just as the door slams shut, you find yourselves still trapped in the long, mysterious hallway.

“Okay. Keep going forward,” the Doctor instructs, stepping ahead with you and Donna in tow. Donna, perplexed, shakes her head and remarks, “But how does this even make sense? 'Cause I’ve seen some things with you two. I’ve seen Ood, Davros. I mean, the Adipose, for God’s sake.”

The Doctor twists another doorknob, taking a chance with the door to his left, only for it to transport you three back into the hallway. Donna continues, “But they had a sort of logic. Daleks built a great big bomb. I understood that. But this— this is impossible. How does it exist?”

The Doctor grits his teeth, growling, “That’s what unravels me. All the laws I cling to, gone.” He spins, opening another door only to lead you three back into the hallway. Moving to the opposite door, he finds it locked and slams his palm against the wood in frustration before pressing on down the hall.

Donna moves closer to you two and asks, “Who is the Toymaker? What is he?”

The Doctor turns to face Donna, explaining, “When I was young, I was so sure of myself. I made a terrible mistake. I let the TARDIS fall into another realm.” The Doctor opens a door, and you follow him as he continues, “A hollow beneath the Under Universe, where science is a game and all of us are toys.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. "It's also how the Stargazer ended up with us, but that's something I will never regret." You softly remark, "A rift in the universe..." The Doctor quickly kisses your forehead, saying, "And it brought me you, my love."

After a moment, the Doctor struggles with another stubborn door, wiggling the doorknob in frustration. "I beat the Toymaker. I won his game, but now he's here. He's found his way into reality."

As he opens the door to the right, leading the three of you back into the hallway, he stills and sighs. "And I think it's all because of me."

You exchange a glance with the Doctor, shaking your head in disagreement. However, before you can utter a word, he cuts you off, his gaze intense. "'Cause I got clever, didn't I? I cast that salt at the edge of the universe. Thought I could have it all," he admits, his eyes locked onto yours. "I thought I could finally have you. I played a game and let him in, an elemental force with the power of a god, and he’s driven the human race mad with a puppet.”

Donna begins, “Yeah, but you always say—” the Doctor shakes his head and mockingly replies as he walks backward down the hall raising his voice, “Oh, what do I say? What do I say? What do I say?”

“‘Cause I’m always so certain. I’m all sonic and TARDIS and Time Lord. Take that away.” The Doctor says and defeatedly shrugs, “Take away the toys. What am I?” He chokes a little as his eyes glaze over, repeating, “What am I now?”

The Doctor looks to you and Donna as he offers a variation of the truth, “I don’t know if I can save your life this time.” The vulnerability in his voice echoes through the corridor, a stark departure from his usual confident demeanor.

Donna raises her eyebrows, her gaze shifting between you and the Doctor. “It’s not about me,” she asserts.

You meet Donna's gaze and respond, “Oh, yes, it is.”

With a nonchalant shrug and a deep breath, Donna begins, “Well,” and then she steps a little forward, flashing a determined smile, “Maybe I’ll save you, you big idiot.” Through the perplexing hallway, the chatter reverberates with a mixture of warmth and friendliness as you all chuckle.

"Anyway, you beat him before," Donna points out, and the Doctor wears a contemplative frown. "That’s the problem. Odd-on I’ll lose next time."

Donna dismisses the notion with a shake of her head. "Nope. Doesn’t work like that. Because my dad used to say, ‘Dice didn’t know what the dice did last time.’ Games don’t have a memory. Every game starts from scratch."

After a moment of letting the words settle, the Doctor nods with a genuine smile. "Oh, I like that. Well said, Dad." He takes a deep breath before suggesting, "Okay. Shall we find the right door?"

The Doctor swiftly dashes to one of the doors, opening them one after the other. You and Donna struggle to keep up, the anticipation heightening. Suddenly, one of the heavy doors slams shut behind Donna, separating you from her. Then the door in front of Donna slams shut, also separating her from the Doctor, the echoes of the closing door lingering in the air. 

You sense your fingernails biting into the palm of your hand, forming a tight fist as you strike the door with the side of your fists. An exasperated cry escapes your lips as you press your forehead against the wooden door. You shut your eyes, tears trickling down your cheeks. Slowly, you lower your hands to your sides, then raise them, placing them at the back of your neck in an attempt to regain composure.

You take a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs before releasing it in a resounding exhale. Pushing away from the door, you continue down the corridor. A distinct pull guides you to a door on the right. Twisting the knob, you pull the door open and step into a room filled with standing mirrors encased in plastic frames. As you survey the surroundings, the door slams shut behind you, making you flinch and glance back.

Turning your head forward, you're met with various incarnations of the Doctor—past and present—alongside friends and companions, all staring back at you through the mirrors. Their gaze penetrates through you. The mirrors shift, forming two opposing lines, resembling portraits guiding you towards a solitary dresser and a seat. On the creaky wooden floors, you move delicately, feeling like a doll as the eyes of your own reflections track your every step down the mirrored pathway.

You eventually reach the dresser, and the seat smoothly pulls out from underneath it. Hesitant, you lower yourself onto it, only to find that your own reflection is not what greets you. Instead, it's the Toymaker, wearing a smug expression as he says, “Ah, yes, the Stargazer. Oh, how I’ve missed you, old friend.”

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows, “If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”

The Toymaker’s expression shifts to a sour one as his face scrunches up, “We were friends, we had such wonderful games in our little dollhouse until the Doctor stole you away from me.”

You shake your head as you say sternly, “He didn’t take me away from you.”

The Toymaker childishly rolls his eyes as he also crosses his arms, “Admit it. You were happy. Happier to be blissfully unaware of who you are when we were in our universe.”

You shake your head as you feel your eyes glaze over, pressing your lips, trying to steady your breathing. Softly, you spoke, “You were controlling me. You were trying to mold me into something… that had to be exceptional to be worthwhile.”

You sniff as you continue, “You never cared about me or any of it. You only wanted to play your games and win. And the one time I won… I saw your true nature and never let me out of that box.”

You gaze directly into the Toymaker's eyes, inquiring, “How? How did you end up here?”

He tilts his head and smiles, “The Doctor may have cast that salt, but that was just the door. You being here, allowing yourself to exist in this reality, my dear, you were the key. The Doctor merely provided the key, and voila. Here I am.”

The Toymaker shifts before he hums and then says nonchalantly, “Well, this was so much fun… us two friends catching up. We should do this more often.”

You narrow your eyes as you shake your head, “Don’t you dare hurt them.”

The Toymaker grins, “Well, what’s the fun in that?”

The room around you seems to blur as a heaviness settles in your chest, the weight of your choices and the consequences of your time with the Toymaker bearing down on you. The mirrors that once reflected various versions of yourself, your friends, and the Doctor now seem to mock your vulnerability.

Your face shifts to anger as you grab your sonic screwdriver, raise it to the mirror, and press the button, causing the illusion to shatter. There is no glass in the mirror because, on the other side of it, is you—freed from the false reflections that sought to define you.

You rise from your seat, hastening as the glass mirrors rupture behind you, fragments and shards soaring through the air. Grabbing the doorknob, you wrench the door open, hurtling into the hallway just as the door behind you slams shut.

Anticipating the impact of the hard hallway floor, you're surprised to find yourself enveloped in sturdy arms, the familiar texture of the Doctor’s coat reassuring. "Whoa! Darling, there you are," he exclaims.

Speechless, you encircle him with your arms, finding solace in the warmth he provides. He eases back, cradling the side of your head, and you yield to the touch, trying to ground yourself in the reassurance that you're still alive, still breathing. Life may have presented challenges, love may have left its mark, and certain experiences may have etched an ache in your soul, yet, you survived.

The Doctor scans your face and says, “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong? What happened? Did he hurt you?”

You sniffle as you shake your head frantically, “No, I’m just… I’m sorry.”

The Doctor frowns, “What for?”

“It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.”

“No. I cast that salt—”

“Yes, but since I’m here, in this reality. I allowed him to exist here as well. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

The Doctor pulls you in closer, tightly wrapping his arms around your frame as he asks, “Did he tell you that?”

You merely make a squeak as you nod into his chest, “It makes sense—”

“No. It’s— I refuse to believe it. I won’t.”

You began, “But—”

The Doctor pauses, his gaze softening, and he says, “No, my love. It's not your fault. Don't let his games mess with your mind. We'll figure this out together.”

You let go of your ghosts and your worries for once. It was just one step, but it said plenty. That you've been cut off from the outside world for such a large portion of your existence dawns on you. That you devoted so much of your life to a version of existence that was cut off from believing in the good and the beautiful as a means of survival, that you tried so hard to shield yourself from the love you so desperately needed.

You knew that you wouldn’t find a love that was perfect, but you found a love that was real. The kind that sees you and brings down your walls, that asks you to share parts of your soul you have tucked away and kept hidden from the world.

Suddenly, the creak of another door opening startles both of you, prompting a swift turn of your heads. Your heart skips a beat as you spot your fiery-haired friend. You exclaim, “Donna!”

“Oh, my god!” Donna exclaims, and the Doctor responds, “There you are!” As you eagerly move forward to embrace Donna, the room undergoes a rapid metamorphosis, transforming into a puppeteer theatre, with the Toymaker standing at its center.

Fanfare resonates in the background through concealed speakers as the Toymaker speaks in German, “Kommen Sie, kommen sie!”

Three chairs materialize from behind you, smoothly rolling forward and obliging you to take a seat upon them as they advance towards where the Toymaker stands.

"The show is just beginning. Worldwide premiere," the Toymaker announces, vanishing momentarily only to reappear behind the puppet theatre at the center. He addresses Donna Noble, "This is for you. Let me tell you what happened when the Doctor, he was leaving you."

Lifting the cross brace of the string puppet, he continues, "He met a friend called Amy Pond. And he loved Amy Pond." The strings sway as he manipulates the Amy puppet. "Yes, he be liking die redheads." A playful wink is followed by, "And they went to and fro in time und space."

The Toymaker's tone darkens as he narrates, "But Amy Pond was touched by the Weeping Angel. And she died." He grabs a large pair of scissors, severing the strings of the puppet, rendering it limp and lifeless.

The Doctor's expression turns grim and angry as he grits his teeth, "She died of old age."

Quickly shifting to an American accent, the Toymaker mockingly remarks, "Well, that’s alright then."

Continuing in his vibrant German accent, the Toymaker orchestrates the descent of a new puppet onto the stage, "Und then he was meeting Clara. Mmm." He adds, "But she was killed by a bird." Another snip of the strings leaves the puppet limp and lifeless.

The Doctor growls, "She still survives in her last second of life."

"Well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker replies in his mocking American accent.

The Toymaker continues in his vibrant German accent, placing another puppet on the stage, "Und then the Doctor met Bill." Strings are pulled as he continues, "Not Stooky Bill, but lady Bill. But she was killed by the Cybermen." With a snip, the puppet falls to the floor, lifeless.

The Doctor's lip trembles, jaw set, as he asserts in a raised tone, "But her consciousness survives."

"Oh, well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker retorts once more in his mocking American accent. He then transitions to a new scene with stars and planets descending, connected with strings. Cutting the strings, he comments with feigned remorse, "Und then there came die Flux. Oh, Donna Noble, the poor Doctor." The Toymaker continues to sever the strings attached to the planets, remarking, "Die Flux was killing everything."

"Is all of this true?" Donna asks in disbelief, leaving you frozen and unsure of what to do or say.

The Doctor abruptly stands up, his gaze locked onto the Toymaker's eyes as he lowers his tone, the gruffness evident, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's expression drops, his nostrils flare, and he strides toward the table. The Doctor meets him at the other end, and they lock eyes, a tense silence enveloping them.

The two of them settle into seats across from each other as the Toymaker mysteriously conjures a deck of cards. In a refined British accent, he declares, “I accept the challenge.”

The Doctor retorts, “You have no choice.”

With an air of a magician, the Toymaker skillfully shuffles the deck of cards, his hands moving with deliberate precision. "I came to this universe with such delight, and I played them all, Doctor." The Toymaker lays down the cards in a line, maintaining his magical flair. "I toyed with supernovas, turned galaxies into spinning tops."

He holds the two halves of the deck and continues, "I gambled with God and made him a jack-in-the-box." Flipping the cards, he shuffles the deck, his eyes locked onto the Doctor's. "I made a jigsaw out of your history. Did you like it?"

"The Master was dying and begged for his life with one final game. And when he lost, I sealed him for all eternity inside my gold tooth." The Toymaker says, a sly smile accompanying the gesture to his shiny gold tooth. However, his tone turns grave and haunted as he continues, "There’s only one player I didn’t dare face. The one who waits."

Both you and the Doctor furrow your brows, and the Doctor questions, “Who’s that?”

The Toymaker's gaze becomes distant as he recalls, “I saw it. Hiding. And I ran.”

“What do you mean?” The Doctor presses, and the Toymaker shakes his head, “Mmm. That’s someone else’s game.” Placing the deck of cards neatly on the table, he asks, “What shall we play?”

“One request. Tell me,” The Doctor starts, his tone curious, “The human race, back in the future. Why does everyone think they’re right?”

The Toymaker smirks knowingly and replies, “So that they win. I made every opinion supreme. That’s the game of the 21st century. They shout, they type, and they cancel. So I fixed it. Now everybody wins.”

“And everyone loses,” you remark, your eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. The Toymaker smiles, acknowledging the truth, “The never-ending game.” He then turns to the Doctor, prompting, “Now name your challenge.”

“The simplest game of all. Let’s cut,” the Doctor proposes, and the Toymaker grins, “Highest card wins.”

“Aces high,” the Doctor asserts.

“You choose,” the Toymaker replies.

“I’ll go first,” the Doctor declares.

Then Donna interjects, “But he’ll cheat.”

You, the Toymaker, and the Doctor quickly disagree, simultaneously stating, “No.” The Toymaker's face turns sour, offended by the accusation, “Shame.”

“That’s the one thing he won’t do,” the Doctor asserts, and Donna points out, “But they’re his cards. He’s all tricks. Of course, he’ll cheat.”

You then explain, “The only rules the Toymaker follows are the rules of the game. They bind his entire existence. The Doctor wins or he loses, and that’s it.”

The Toymaker glowers at the Doctor as he says, “Then play.”

The Doctor seizes the top deck of cards, turning it to reveal the Eight of Clubs. A sinking feeling creeps into the pit of your stomach as you calculate the odds, not liking the prospects for the Doctor.

The Toymaker raises an eyebrow with a smug expression, “My turn.” He grabs a portion of the deck, turning it to reveal the King of Hearts. Gripping the sides of your chair, you feel a sense of dread as the Toymaker laughs, “I’m the King.”

Switching back to his German accent, he declares excitedly, “Und now, meine kleine Doctor, we will see what is my prize!”

The Doctor responds, “One… all.”

A light laugh of relief escapes you, realizing the Doctor had a backup plan in case he lost. Leaning across the table, the Doctor's words make the Toymaker's expression drop, “I won the game many years ago. You’ve won today, which leaves us equal. And you know two players are bound by one inviolable rule.”

The Toymaker sneers as he begrudgingly admits, “Best of three.”

The Doctor nods, “Best of three.”

The Toymaker purses his lips in annoyance, narrowing his eyes before saying, “Then let’s make it 2023.” He suddenly pulls a curtain from the side, quickly vanishing as the red velvet cloth clatters to the floor. The room transforms, and you hear the creaking of wood.

Both you and the Doctor exclaim, “Donna!”

Donna has already sprung from her chair, responding, “I’m already running!”

As you run, the structure behind you collapses in on itself, the scratching and groaning of wood as it folds in the hallway. Eventually, you make it out of the shop, running into the streets and stopping from across the street to see the entire building fold itself neatly into a box on the ground.

Donna points out, "He said 2023," and the Doctor responds as his chest puffs out a breath, "Winner takes all."

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Once the TARDIS had landed, you and Donna hurriedly followed the Doctor, who carried the box containing the Toymaker's shop. As you reached the main area of operations, the Doctor placed the red box on Melanie's desk and instructed, "Keep an eye on that."

Stepping up on one of the desks, the Doctor addressed everyone in a loud tone, "The satellite was only a link in the chain, so Donna needs access to the subframe. There is no one in London faster on a keyboard. She’s creating a template for this." He produced a flash drive and explained, "It coordinates all telescopes and satellites and deep-space scans across the Earth." Tossing the flash drive to Shirley, who deftly caught it.

Turning to the Vlinx, the Doctor requested, "The Vlinx, I need all mesh reflectors on Earth translated to digital five."

As Donna worked on the keyboard, Mel replied to Donna's question, "Dynamic. We’re using triad."

Donna nodded in understanding, typing rapidly, "Got ya. Okay, so you should all be receiving this now."

"How bad is it, Doctor, Star?" Kate asked with concern. The Doctor responded with a warning tone, "Something entered this world in 1925. I don’t know how. And I warn you, this thing can get from 1925 to now like stepping through a door."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and continued, "But if we’re lucky, the program the Stargrazer created can detect the decay of an energy signature from 98 years ago. Might be on Earth. Might be in orbit. Might be in space. But if we can find the entrance, maybe we can turn it into an exit."

"What are we fighting?" Kate asked, and you responded grimly, "An elemental force beyond the rules of the universe."

Shirley then inquired with a puzzled tone, "What’s that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor gave her a look and explained, "You think life is a balance between order and chaos, but the universe is not binary." As the Spice Girls' "Spice Up Your Life" began playing from somewhere, he continued, "Far from it. There is order and chaos, and then there is play." Pointing to the ceiling, he asked, "What’s that?"

"Could you turn that off, please?" Kate requested, and Melanie, standing from her chair, asked, "Who is that?"

The Doctor groaned, "Oh, I think he’s here."

The Toymaker entered the scene like a Broadway hurricane, dressed as a band leader with his hair curled and styled. A door suddenly appearing with the bell jingling as he strutted forward. Confetti popped, lights flashed, and the Toymaker lip-synced to the Spice Girls' song playing from an unknown location.

"When you're feelin' sad and low

We will take you where you gotta go"

The door materialized behind you, the bell jingling as the Toymaker stepped out, dancing and lifting his hat, grooving to the music. You and the Doctor stood there, unimpressed, wearing a fed-up expression.

The Toymaker, immersed in the infectious beats of the Spice Girls, continued his impromptu performance. With infectious enthusiasm, he teleported across various areas of the headquarters, seamlessly syncing his lip movements to the lyrics of the song. His dance was a spectacle of exaggerated expressions, capturing the vibrant spirit of the Spice Girls' anthem.

As the music echoed through the room, the Toymaker made flamboyant movements, teleporting next to Shirley. With flair, he held up a phone, lip-syncing passionately to the lyrics.

"Smilin', dancin', everything is free

All you need is positivity"

The Toymaker's energetic dance moves and lively expressions added a surreal touch to the otherwise serious atmosphere of the operation.

“Colours of the world

Spice up your life”

Teleporting with theatrical finesse, he continued his spirited performance, engaging with the song's upbeat tempo.

“Every boy and every girl

Spice up your life”

The Toymaker, a delightful force of whimsy, twirled and danced with infectious energy, infusing the tension-filled room with an unexpected burst of joy.

“People of the world

Spice up your life

Aah

Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front

Ha ha (uh uh)

Go round”

With each step, he appeared and disappeared, dancing effortlessly to the rhythm. In a sudden move, the Toymaker materialized next to Kate, seamlessly incorporating her into his lively dance. However, the exuberant twirl proved too much, and Kate, spun too fast, and collided with a wall.

Undeterred, the Toymaker vanished and reappeared beside Melanie, pulling her into an impromptu dance as UNIT soldiers point their weapon at him.

“Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front”

The Toymaker spun Melanie like a spinning top, prompting your alarmed cry, "Melanie!" Both you and the Doctor rushed to her aid as she tumbled to the ground, the unexpected dance taking an unforeseen turn.

"La la la la la la la la la

La la la la la la la"

Kate regains her composure, brushing off her slacks with a determined air as she commands the UNIT soldiers, "Detain him!"

In response, a contingent of UNIT soldiers swiftly advances, attempting to apprehend the whimsical Toymaker. The Doctor's warning echoes in the air, “No, don’t!” However, defying the Doctor's urgent plea, the Toymaker playfully taps the soldiers, transforming them into vibrant, bouncing balls that clatter across the floor.

"What happened to them?" Kate urgently inquires, and you, wearing a grimace, shake your head, "They're dead. I'm sorry. Just stop it. Let me talk to him."

The Toymaker confidently struts down the center aisle among the stations, seizing the attention of everyone. Kate seizes the opportunity and commands the remaining UNIT soldiers, "On my command, open fire!"

"Take him out, take him out!"

Despite the barrage of gunfire from the UNIT troops, the bullets magically transform into a cascade of delicate rose petals, scattering around the office in a surreal display. The Toymaker, reveling in the chaos, gleefully glances atop a table as more rose petals dance in the air.

"Yellow man in Timbuktu

Colourful, both me and you

Kung Fu fighting, dancing queen

Tribal spaceman and all that's in between"

Undeterred, more UNIT soldiers step in, brandishing larger firearms. Kate urgently yells, "Get down!" Yet, instead of bullets, they too unleash a storm of rose petals towards the Toymaker, amplifying the confusion and chaos in the headquarters.

Now seated on the floor, the Toymaker whimsically creates a rose petal angel, moving his arms and legs in a playful display as he swims amidst the never-ending fall of petals, still lip-syncing to the song.

"Colours of the world (Spice up your life)

Every boy and every girl (Spice up your life)

People of the world (Spice up your life, ah)"

As the Toymaker gracefully walks away from the floral aftermath, he makes his exit, singing the last part of the song and forming a heart with his hands.

"Hai, sí, ja! Hold tight!"

With a resounding honk, he disappears into the floor, leaving the bewildered onlookers shaken and utterly confused about the bizarre turn of events.

The Doctor swiftly dashes forward, sliding to his knees with palms pressed to the floor in an attempt to catch the Toymaker, yet the space where he once stood appears empty, as if he were an illusion.

While Donna tends to Mel, you approach the Doctor, who rises to his feet. Kate's inquiry breaks the moment, "Doctor, Stargazer, who is he?"

Breathing heavily, you respond, "The Toymaker."

"How does he do that?" Shirley questions from her wheelchair, seeking understanding.

Ignoring the query, the Doctor directs urgently, "The Vlinx, speed up those scans. I need those results." He then turns to the group, nostrils flaring, and commands, "All of you, search the building. He’s still here. Where’s he gone?"

Soldiers take charge, securing the perimeter, while Shirley persists, "But how does he do it?" The Doctor, resolute, explains in a low tone, "If I told you he manipulates atoms with the power of thought, would you believe it?"

Shirley ponders for a moment before responding, "Is that what he does?"

The Doctor shakes his head, "No. You can’t fight him, Shirley. There’s nothing you can do."

A sudden noise interrupts the conversation—a bell tinkling. Hushing everyone, you urge, "Listen. Listen."

The ringing intensifies. Kate steps towards the automatic door leading to the helipad, and you follow suit. There, on the helipad, the Toymaker stands alone, dressed in an aviator outfit, ringing the doorbell. Kate exclaims, "Oh, my God. He’s got the Galvanic Beam." Reacting swiftly, you and the Doctor rush onto the helipad. The Toymaker sits on the chair of the Galvanic Beam, swinging it as he excitedly exclaims in German, "Achtung, Achtung! Backen Sie."

Kate, Donna, Shirley, and Mel, carrying the box, join you on the helipad along with the UNIT soldiers. The Toymaker continues, with his goggles on and his exaggerated German accent, "Oh, how I am liking this, the gun mit the laser und the bang und the boom."

The Doctor turns back to the group, urgently shouting, "Go back inside! Get back, get back!"

The Toymaker, however, dismisses the idea, insisting, "No, no, no, no, no. Every game is ge-needing an audience, ja."

Now it's your turn to raise your voice, "Get back inside!" Yet, the Toymaker, maintaining his defiance, sternly disagrees, "Und I said nein!" He takes aim at the glass higher up the building, shattering it. The team below reacts with startled cries as you and the Doctor shoot furious glares at the Toymaker.

Removing his goggles, the Toymaker switches to a British accent, calmly stating, "Now we can all have some fun."

Kate steps forward, undeterred and unafraid, confronting the Toymaker with a determined gaze. "Where are my staff? The beam had a pilot, and the armourer and the ground staff. Where are they?"

“I think they're still falling,” the Toymaker replies, and then a faint thud in the distance is followed by the sound of glass shattering.

The Doctor bares his teeth, anger etched across his face as he stomps forward and confronts the Toymaker, “I don't understand why you're so small!” The Toymaker’s face shifts into a frown, his features scrunching up as the Doctor continues his impassioned confrontation, “You can turn bullets into flowers. Think of the good you could do. So tell me why you don't!”

The Toymaker responds with resounding sureness, "You know full well this is merely a face concealing a vastness that will never cease, because your good and your bad are nothing to me. All that exists is to win or to lose."

“And you know full well that I've had many faces, containing something far more,” the Doctor begins. You inch closer to him as he grabs your hand, offering the Toymaker a compelling invitation, “So come with us. Leave this tiny world. We can take your games back to the stars. We can play across the cosmos. We can be... Celestial.”

You watch as the Toymaker’s gaze shifts between the two of you, “The Time Lords, and the Toymaker?”

You nod, extending your hand, “Infinite games.”

A moment of anticipation hangs in the air as you hope for his acceptance. However, the Toymaker's expression shifts to one of indifference as he uses the controller of the Galvanic Beam. Turning to survey London, he begins, “And yet…” The soldiers cautiously retreat as the Toymaker observes the destruction and chaos engulfing the city.

“I have fallen in love with humanity. This world is the ultimate playground. All of the sport, the matches, the medals, the gambling, and the anger, and the children shackled to their bedrooms with their joysticks and their buttons. You make games out of bricks falling upon other bricks. You are exceptional,” the Toymaker remarks, and you signal the troops to halt their advance. The Toymaker gasps, “And then there are the mind games. Oh, the dating and ghosting, the deceit and the control. You make me dizzy. I am in no hurry to leave this place.”

He swivels the turret around, a maniacal glint in his eye as he chuckles, “We can play Grandma's Footsteps.” He gleefully fires at the soldiers' feet, forcing them to hastily retreat, "And Off-Ground Touch."

“Ah! Stop, stop, stop, stop!” You plead helplessly as the Toymaker, a sinister smirk on his face, persists in aiming the Galvanic Beam at your companions. He remarks, "Shooting ducks. Who's up next? The companion? The soldier? The scientist? The orphan?"

The Doctor charges ahead, bellowing and thumping his chest defiantly, "Your fight is with me!" The Toymaker directs the beam towards the Doctor, declaring, "And you owe me! One more ga—"

His words abruptly cease as the Toymaker unleashes the Galvanic Beam, piercing through the Doctor's torso. A gut-wrenching scream escapes your lips, and you desperately attempt to rush towards him, only to be forcefully restrained by Donna and Kate. Helplessly, you bear witness to the Doctor's anguished ordeal.

The Toymaker proclaims, “I played the first game with one Doctor. I played the second game with this Doctor. Therefore, your own rules have decreed I play the third game with the next Doctor.” As the beam deactivates, you extricate yourself from Donna and Kate's grasp, hastening to reach your Doctor who has descended to his knees on the ground. Regeneration energy begins to shimmer around him, and you sniffle as you cradle him close, feeling his feeble arm wrap around you.

Tears stream down your face as you murmur, "Hey, hey... I'm right here."

You sense his touch, brushing away your tears as he utters, "Hello, my sweet Stargazer... I’ve been alone for so long. Oh, how I've missed you." A resonant sniff escapes you as you reply, "I'm so sorry. For running. For leaving. For everything, I’m sorry.”

He softly hushes you, "No. None of that. It's not your fault." A wistful smile gently paints his face. "I love you." You release a sob, "I love you too."

"Marry me?" The Doctor proposes, managing to flash you a boyish grin. You can't help but emit a weak laugh, "Right now?"

"Whenever, wherever you like. Just say yes."

"You already know I’d say yes, you idiot!" you retort.

"Say it, please," he murmurs, and you nod as tears continue to fall from your cheeks, "Of course, I'll marry you. I’ll marry you as many times as you want. As many lifetimes as you want."

As the regeneration energy glows brighter, Donna steps forward, yelling loudly to the Toymaker, “He's not dying alone. You can do what you like to me. I'm going to be with them both.”

“And so am I,” Mel declares, setting the box down and approaching the other side of the Doctor along with Donna.

The Toymaker allows it, nodding, “Handmaidens.”

“It's okay,” Donna says, and the Doctor responds, “It's not dying.” Donna nods in understanding, adding, “I know. But…”

Mel smiles as she interjects, “You're going to be someone else. It doesn't matter who because every single one of you is fantastic.”

The Doctor’s eyes glaze as he feels the regeneration energy glow brighter and stronger, surging throughout his body, “It's time. Here we go again. Allons-y!”

The energy fizzles out, and the Doctor hasn't changed his face, leaving you all blinking in confusion as he lets out an, “Um.”

The Doctor’s brow furrows as Donna asks, “What... What's happening?”

Looking to you, the Doctor asks in an even more confused tone, “Could you... pull?”

With your mouth agape and wide-eyed, you inquire, “Could I... what?” The Doctor looks to Mel and Donna to his left, saying, “And you.”

“What do you mean?” Mel asks, and the Doctor blinks as stands up and replies, “Pull! Just pull each way. I don't know. It feels different this time.” The three of you begin to pull in each way, and the Doctor exclaims, “Ow! Oh.”

Regeneration surges and flares up once more, and out pops the head and shoulders of the new Doctor, number 15. You all gasp in shock, and you're the first to say, “What?”

“What?” Donna and Mel ask in unison.

“What?!” The Toymaker exclaims.

“No way,” the other part of the Doctor exclaims, and your Doctor responds with glee, “You're me.”

The new regeneration of the Doctor smiles, a toothy grin spreading across his face as he says, “No, I'm me. I think I'm really, really me. Oh, ho-ho, I am completely me! Don't just stand there, push!”

Your Doctor poses the question once more, "Do what?" to which his other half retorts, "Push."

"What— Does this work?" Your Doctor questions and the new one responds with a laugh, "I don't know."

They part ways entirely, each now clad in half of the other one's attire. Your Doctor sports the undershirt, vest, and trousers, and is left barefoot. Meanwhile, as far as your memory serves, the 15th regeneration of the Doctor is now adorned in a button-up shirt, tie, sneakers, and underwear. You purse your lips as you try to hide your smile and feel a warmth spreading out your face as you realize your Doctor isn’t wearing any underwear. You decide to pocket that bit of information for later.

A surge of joy and laughter fills the air as the 15th Doctor exclaims, "Hello!" Arms outstretched in a welcoming embrace, he moves towards your Doctor, continuing to laugh, "So good to see you! So good!"

Turning his attention to you, a broad grin decorates his face as he rushes towards you, enveloping you in a warm hug and lifting you off the ground, spinning you around. A yelp of surprise and glee escapes you, and you notice a twinge of jealousy in your Doctor's expression. However, you shoot him a look, a gentle reminder that they are one and the same.

The 15th Doctor lets out hearty laughter before addressing everyone, "Now, someone tell me what the hell is going on here."

"Excuse me. Sorry, but..." Kate begins, and Shirley interjects, "How did that happen?"

"Bi-generation. I have bi-generated! There's no such thing. Bi-generation is supposed to be a myth, but... look at me.” He chuckles and stretches as his joints crack, “Yeah, myth, myth, myth," the 15th Doctor declares with a jolly tone, turning to Mel and inquiring, "Mel, what do you think?"

Mel smiles widely as she gazes at the 15th Doctor, "I think you're beautiful."

Your Doctor furrows his brow, questioning, "Still beautiful?"

"Yeah," Mel responds.

Donna, taking in the new Doctor with a rich deep ebony skin tone, asks, "Do you come in a range of colours?"

To which all the Time Lords reply with a resounding, "Yes."

You hear the Toymaker clear his throat and begin, pointing the beam at the two Doctors, "If I can interrupt... Behold the game of the Time Lords. A dummy who dies and doubles and dies and doubles. I could play this for 100 years. I'll have vast meadows of Doctors dying over and over again, and I'll never get bored because…"

The two Doctors step forward in unison, declaring, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's face sours, and he tosses his goggles, shifting into a frown. "But there's two of you."

Your Doctor asserts, "I'm the Doctor," and the 15th remarks, "And I'm the Doctor."

Your Doctor smirks, "And according to the rules, you can't say no."

The Toymaker stammers, "But that's cheating."

“How?” both Doctors say simultaneously, and your Doctor continues, “It's your game, and you did this.”

The Toymaker is at a loss for words, stammering, "But…"

Your Doctor smiles, "You doubled us."

“So, who am I marrying then—” You interject, and the two Doctors exclaim, “Me!”

Your eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening in response. "Y’know what, that seems like an issue for later."

The Toymaker interjects, stating, "I accept your challenge." Stepping off the Galvanic Beam, your Doctor commands everyone in a commanding voice, "Get back." In compliance, everyone takes a few steps back.

“Moments like these are a joy, when someone thinks they can outwit the maker of the games. Do you think a grand total of two can cause me to shiver when I've played against the Guardians of Time and Space and shrank them into voodoo dolls? Name your challenge, Doctor,” the Toymaker says, and you mockingly yawn, eliciting a glare from him.

“You said it. The first game ever,” the 15th Doctor states, and your Doctor finishes his thoughts, “The ball.”

The Toymaker conjures a ball from thin air and declares, “Catch? Of course, before we begin, there is one thing to remember. It's a simple game, really, but I think…”

Suddenly, the Toymaker hurls the ball towards your Doctor at an astonishing speed, making contact with his chest just as he finishes his sentence, “…if you drop it, you lose.”

Your Doctor catches the ball, releasing a deep breath, “Nice.”

The ball is tossed around in a flurry. You can only watch as it keeps getting passed and tossed. Eventually, the 15th Doctor throws it extremely far to your Doctor, causing him to tumble and dive to catch it from the 15th.

Your Doctor looks at the 15th with wide eyes, his chest puffing out breaths as he exclaims, “Hey! I'm on your side!”

15th sheepishly replies, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!”

The game of catch persists, and you nervously bite your nails as you observe the trio. There are numerous extreme throws and catches, accompanied by near misses, until the 15th Doctor imparts enough spin on the ball. It glances off the Toymaker's fingers, tumbling over the building's edge.

The Toymaker pants in disbelief, beginning, "But—"

“We won!” Your Doctor asserts, and the 15th adds, “We did it. Fair game. You lost.”

Attempting to salvage the situation, the Toymaker stammers, “No, but I think you'll find…”

Your Doctor steps forward, declaring, “Best of three. And my prize, Toymaker, is to banish you from existence forever.”

The Toymaker protests, “No! But I'm... It's not…” Suddenly, he starts to flatten and fold, “You can't... But I…” Mel steps forward and brings out the box as the Toymaker yelps, “Not fair. Please. My legions are coming. Argh!” He folds up into a square and drops into the box, which slams shut.

Kate seizes the box by the handles, instructing the soldier, “Take it to the deepest vault and bind it in salt.” The soldier promptly responds, “Yes, ma'am.”

Shirley and Kate disengage their Zeedexes. Kate turns to Shirley, saying, “Shirley, tell Geneva we're in full resus. Tell every base to follow Green Shoot protocols, full liaison.” She then addresses the soldier, “Rudi, I'll want the names of all those staff.”

Your attention shifts to your Doctor, standing at the edge of the helipad. The wind tousles his brown, spiky hair as he surveys the destruction wreaked upon London by the Toymaker. Approaching him, you grasp his hand and offer, “Hey, we did it.”

“But how many died down there?” The Doctor frowns, his tone heavy with sorrow. The 15th and Donna approach, with Donna reassuringly stating, “That's not your fault.”

The 15th points out, “You can't save everyone.”

Your Doctor pouts, “Why not?”

The 15th Doctor pulls both you and him into a hug, soothingly saying, “Come here. I've got you. Yeah? It's okay. I'm here.”

As you let out a sigh of relief, exhausted to the events that occurred. Your mind wanders and you smile. This love will intimately understand you, resonating on certain levels as if it has always existed—a deep-seated yearning your soul has carried, anticipating the reunion with its heart, perpetually poised to return home to the facets of itself discovered in another being. It serves as a poignant reminder that hope can emanate from the fingertips of another human being, nestled within the layers of the uncharted aspects waiting to be unveiled.

You and the group re-enter the building, abandoning the helipad to solitude, save for a lone sentry stationed at the entrance. A faint echo of laughter seems to linger in the air, leaving you with an inexplicable sense of dread resonating from a distant place.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, SUITE 17, LONDON – DAY 2023

INSIDE THE TARDIS

You observe as the Doctor maneuvers around the console, guiding his other incarnation through the intricacies. "That's the petrolink shatterfy compensator, moved from there to there. Hyperdynes. Er... fluid links, obviously," he explains, his hands deftly pointing out the components.

Your Doctor halts abruptly, stumbling over his words as he gazes at the version of himself standing on the bridge. "And, well, you know... things. But, er... how's it going to work? You and me. This is great, I think. Is it? But... How do we both...?”

“One thing you need in this place is a chair,” the 15th Doctor remarks, and you arch your eyebrows, glancing at your Doctor, who responds, “I'll be all right.”

The 15th shakes his head, emphasizing, “No, you're thin as a pin, love. You're running on fumes.”

You and Donna both sigh in agreement, stating, “That's what we keep saying.”

“I'm just... post-bi-generation,” your Doctor attempts to justify, but the 15th Doctor interjects, “Ha! It's more than that. Our whole lifetime. That Doctor that first met the Toymaker never, ever stopped. Put on trial, exiled, Key to Time, all the devastation of Logopolis.”

“Adric,” your Doctor says with a tinge of sadness, and the 15th nods, “Adric.”

Your Doctor's expression shifts to a sorrowful pout as he reminisces about the days and tragic events. “River Song. All the people we lost. Sarah Jane has gone. Can you believe that for a second?”

“I loved her,” your Doctor admits, and the 15th agrees, “I loved her. And Rose. But the Time War, Pandorica, Mavic Chen. We fought the Gods of Ragnarok, and we didn't stop for a second to say, ‘what the hell?’”

Your Doctor shakes his head, “But you're fine.” He gestures to his newly regenerated self, and the 15th says, “I'm fine because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords. We're doing rehab out of order.”

You then gently interject, “He's saying you need to stop.”

Your Doctor shakes his head in disagreement, stating, “I don't know how.”

Donna takes a step forward, her words measured, “Well, I can tell you. Cos you know what I did when you went flying off in your blue box, Spaceman? I stayed in one place, and I lived day after day after day.”

“It would drive me mad,” your Doctor admits. You nod in agreement, stepping closer to him, your hand gently holding his cheek. “Same here. I’ll be honest, it was difficult… at first. Yeah. It does. But you keep on going. That’s what makes it special. You won’t exactly know what’s going to happen. And that's the adventure. The one adventure you've never had. Because I've... I've worked out what happened. The Flux caused a reset in the universe, no longer making my entire existence a threat to everyone. Then you changed your face, and then you found me. Do you know why?”

The Doctor is wide-eyed as you gaze into his chocolate brown eyes, and you give him a soft smile, “To come home.”

“Do you mean... he flies off?” The Doctor says as he glances at the 15th Doctor, tears welling up. “But I could never let the Tardis go. Never. It would hurt.”

The 15th Doctor approaches you two and leans against the console, stating, “Yeah, but... bi-generation has never happened before.” An idea begins to form in his mind, “What if...? What if!”

Eagerly, he dashes to the walkway, producing a 'test your strength' mallet. “What if the Toymaker's domain is still lingering? Just for a few seconds more, we're in a state of play. Oh! So maybe…”

The 15th Doctor steps out of the TARDIS, and the three of you follow after him. Shirley and Mel are waiting in the suite.

Excitedly, the 15th Doctor exclaims, “Hey! Watch this, watch this. Watch, watch, watch, watch. Stand back. Stand back. Go on, that's it, Donna. Oh! Wish me luck.”

“What for?” The Doctor asks, to which the 15th responds with a big smile, “We won the game. You get a prize, honey, and here is mine!” He swings at the side of the TARDIS, knocking a second one out. An exact duplicate stands on the left side of the original one.

“Ta-da!” The 15th shows off in a sing-songy voice before whispering to the TARDIS, “I am so sorry.”

Donna expresses with glee, “That is completely nuts,” and the 15th Doctor laughs in agreement.

The Doctor pushes the other TARDIS doors open and looks down. He unfolds a ramp, saying, “Oh, look! Oh, that's not bad. Wheelchair accessible.”

“At last! You finally caught up with the 21st century!” Shirley smiles, laughing.

“Yeah. Go on,” the 15th Doctor says to your Doctor, who steps inside to glance around as you wait outside. After a minute, he walks out, goes into the original TARDIS, and looks around. You watch as the 15th Doctor gives you a wink before stepping inside his TARDIS, and you let out a snort.

You see your Doctor exit the TARDIS and realize the 15th Doctor is missing. “Where is he? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!”

You follow your Doctor as he pushes open the other TARDIS doors, saying, “You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?”

The 15th Doctor mischievously grins as he replies, “As if I would ever do that. Come here. Come here, come here, come here, come here.” He hugs him and kisses you on the cheek, saying, “Look after him, you know? Now, you three, if you don't mind, there is a great big universe out there calling, and I've got to get going. So off you pop, old man.”

Your Doctor shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes, “Oh. You're the old man. You're older than me.”

Donna nods in agreement, “Actually, that is true. He's younger because you came after him. So you're the older Doctor.”

The 15th Doctor rolls his eyes playfully, teasing, “Okay, kid. I love you. Get out!” He sets the Time Rotor in motion, and Donna rushes out of the TARDIS, yelping, “I'm not doing that again!”

Observing the Doctors salute each other, you hear him say to you, “I’ll see you soon.” Then the two of you exit.

Stepping into Suite 17, the group gathers as the Doctor remarks, “Shirley, I don't suppose you've seen this before. I don't see it often myself. Stand by.”

“Where's he going?” Mel asks, and the Doctor replies, “Everywhere.”

You watch as the TARDIS dematerializes, and you catch the soft whisper of the Doctor, “Good luck.”

DONNA’S GARDEN — DAY, 2023

The TARDIS is parked in Donna’s garden, a testament to the new chapter you and the Doctor were embarking on—cohabiting. Presently, the entire family savored a meal al fresco beneath the pergola adorned with wisteria in full bloom. The Doctor sat beside you, his hand resting casually on your thigh, a constant desire to connect, to be near.

“Right. The cast-iron pot is the vegan. Ta-da! And the one with the flowers is the chicken,” Shaun declares, placing the dish on the table. You hum and nod, and Shaun adds, “I think.”

Sylvia chimes in, pointing to the dish, “And this is cauliflower cheese, which doesn't really go with anything, but it was there.” Rose nods as they begin to take their seats.

Donna raises a hand, signaling for attention, “Anyway, shush, please, for the eyebrow story.”

“Oh, yes. So... this species only communicated with their eyebrows. I thought, I can do that,” the Doctor says with an unusually happy tone, a rare occurrence that visibly lifts the weight from his shoulders. He sits straighter, and with a flourish of his eyebrows, he continues the story, “So I'm stood there on this clifftop and I went... ‘I mean you no harm. I come in peace. I am your friend.’”

“Am I late?” Mel's voice breaks through, and you lift your head to see her sheepishly saying, “Sorry. The door was open. You don't mind?”

Sylvia dismisses her concern, cooing, “Oh, you're family, darling. Sit down.”

You glance at Mel and ask, “Did you drive?”

“No. I got a lift off a zingo,” Mel replies as she takes a seat next to you, prompting cheers and laughter from the group.

“A zingo!” Donna exclaims, and Sylvia smiles, “Oh, how strange.”

The Doctor continues his eyebrow-raising tale, “So, she looked at me, the Warrior Queen of the Felooth, and she said, ‘Good. And now... you will marry me.’ I said, ‘What?!’ And she pushed me off the cliff!”

Sylvia leans in over the table, asking, “But is it true, though? Is it really true?”

The Doctor looks to you, humming and shrugging, “Mmm…” You playfully shove his shoulder, and he kisses your cheek.

“We could always go in the Tardis and find out,” Rose suggests, but Shaun interjects, “Don't you dare.”

Donna sternly tells her daughter, “You are grounded until the Doctor feels better. Don't go sneaking off to Mars.”

“Again,” Rose says, and Donna goes wide-eyed, asking, “What does that mean?” She pointedly looks at the two of you.

“Oh, no. It was just once. Oh, you're in trouble,” the Doctor says, and you wince.

Mel explains, “They took me to New York last week. The Gilded Age. It was amazing.”

The Doctor shrugs, “Well, yeah. We just can't turn down my favourite niece.”

Rose smiles, “Ah! Niece. I like that.”

“Well, that's what you are. With my best friend, my brother-in-law, the evil stepmother…” The Doctor says, and Sylvia chuckles, “Oh, I have barely begun.” The Doctor continues, “..and Mad Aunty Mel.”

Mel chuckles, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

You all toast happily, exclaiming, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

The Doctor then places down his glass before lifting your left hand, now adorned with a gold band inscribed in Gallifreyan. He kisses your knuckles and says lovingly, “And of course, my soon-to-be wife.”

You can’t help but smile as you look at him. With him, you just open. The cost of staying fortified and hidden away becomes too high. With the Doctor, you lay down your arms. You let love rush in. You let it wash over you. You crack your shell, exposing your heart to this world, trusting that you are worthy of being seen there.

The Doctor then remembers, “And Grandad! Where is he?”

Sylvia says, “Oh, he's off shooting moles.”

The sound of a shotgun resonates, and you hum as the Doctor says, “Don't worry, I gave the moles a forcefield. I love the moles.”

Donna raises her eyebrows, asking, “You love the moles?”

The Doctor grins, “I love them. But here we are, Grandad and all. Who'd have thought? I ended up with a family.”

You feel the weight of his words settling in the cracks of your bones as your hearts thump in the silence. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling him kiss the top of your head.

Shaun suddenly exclaims, “Oh, my God, I got it wrong. The vegan one is in the flowers.”

Rose groans, tossing her fork on the plate, “Urgh! What am I eating?”

“Oh... Don't worry.” Shaun tries to help. “We'll just… give it to Grandad.” Sylvia adds, “Don't make a fuss. Pass me your plate.”

Donna looks between the two of you, smiling as she says, “You don't have to stay forever.”

The Doctor glances at you, and you smile up at him, saying, “We'll see.”

“Do you miss it? Out there?” Donna asks.

The Doctor looks around, realizing he’s surrounded by love as he says, “The funny thing is, I fought all those battles for all those years, and now I know what for. This. I've never been so happy in my life.”

This love infuses honey into the core of your being; it's akin to a gentle warmth seeping into the very marrow of your bones. Witnessing how it learns about you, fights on your behalf, and remains steadfast through life's storms by your side, you're reminded of the profound connection often overshadowed by the preference for distance over depth in this world. It's a reminder that hope emanates from the touch of another, concealed within the layers of undiscovered facets. You now comprehend that love was always intended to be gentle, always meant to be tender, as evidenced by the Doctor intertwining his fingers with yours, accompanied by a bright grin. Your bones are safe, and your heart can rest assured it belongs to him. Your world transforms, cradled by the comforting embrace that is the Doctor.

“So,” Donna begins as she chews her food and swallows as he smiles at her best friends, “When’s the wedding?”

TAGLIST:

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @matthew-lilards @a-dash-of-cinnamon @imthedoctorlove @scoliobean @allophonicmess @mirkwoodshewolf @jaziona92 @melloww-akira @crowleythesexydemon @pedrettilov3r @nsainmoonchild @h-l-vlovesvintage @jaziona92 @1potato2rulethemall @jesssimblrorwhatever @prettyboigenius @ladygrimmx

[stomach-bugg09]

summary: [y/n] is introduced into the way of omaticaya, whether she likes it or not.

neteyam x fem + metkayina!reader

a/n: whoops guess who did this instead of studying!! it’s kind of good i think actually, but it’s also kind of not good, so we shall see. and yes, this is taken from httyd whoopsies!! (also i'm pretending that ikrans have a little bit of free will) feedback, reblogs, and requests are always appreciated

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @eywas-heir

warnings: kind of enemies to lovers type of beat, fluff, [y/n] being a lil bitch but we love her so it’s okay!

take my hand

[y/n] hated the newcomers. maybe it was her refusal to bend to her father’s will, him being the right hand man of tonowari, naturally prompting him to tell his daughter to treat toruk makto and his family kindly. or, maybe it was the fact that jake sully’s children were unbearable.

[y/n] grew up close with tonowari and ronal’s children, leading her to feel particularly connected to ao’nung due to their age. sure, the boy was annoying most of the time, but he was a lovable type of annoying. the two’d quickly acclimated to the title of being ‘partners in crime,’ eventually changing to a trio when they picked up rotxo after meeting him in their younger years.

now, ten years later, the three of them sat warily on the beach, scowls glued to their depressed faces. each of them sported a good looking wound, blood dried on their lips and cheek bones. how in the world had the sully boys beaten them? embarrassing.

the silence between the three of them was deafening. they’d just taken a load of crap from tonowari and ronal, and it didn’t take long for [y/n]’s father to come storming over to her.

she’d hissed in pain as he grabbed her ear, yanking her off of the drift log that she was perched on. “what were you thinking?” he demanded, voice hushed and full of disappointment. when he was met with silence, he shook his head. “that’s what i thought. you weren’t thinking. how many times do i have to tell you to treat them like they’re one of our own? why are you so… so daft, daughter? i know you are intelligent, where has that gone?”

his words stung, but she understood where he was coming from. although she liked to pretend that she was always one-hundred percent correct, she secretly acknowledged her moral faults.

after her father left her, walking away with one last look of shame, [y/n] looked over at her two friends, still seething in self-loathing layered with the fury of their chief. she took a deep breath in, turning around. she needed to take a walk.

without another word to her friends, she began to take steps in the opposite direction. the sand was soft against her feet, the give of the ground causing her knees to lock when she took a step that happened to be a bit too deep.

she cursed at herself, anger radiating through her veins at yet another thing not going her way. but, she had to keep going. she soon found herself on the stone-paved paths that lead to the small clusters of trees standing behind the maruis.

without much thinking, she kept going, feeling the warmth from the sun on her shoulders disappear as soon as she entered the shade. birds and bugs flew around, buzzing and small chirps being heard from every angle.

it was as if she suddenly felt at peace in that moment. the change of scenery helped, of course, but so did being away from everyone and everything. it didn’t take long for her to find a particularly comforting spot, sitting down in the center of a “tree-circle.”

and then, when she had finally found peace and quiet, eyes closed as she enjoyed every second of a stress-free moment, her ears perked up. with eyes squinting and staring upwards at the sky, she watched as a creature of some sort landed on a tree, him and his rider staring down at her.

immediately, she groaned, a scowl returning to her face. “what are you doing here?” she demanded, venom laced in her words.

neteyam’s hands went up in mock defense. “nothing,” he hummed. “was just taking a flight, and i saw you. what are you doing here? in the trees?” he didn’t miss the chance to send a teasing smirk.

she furrowed her brows, lips downturned in annoyance. “you lie, stalker. and i was taking a moment to myself, but of course you had to ruin it. like you ruin everything, tree boy.” with that, [y/n] pushed herself off of the ground, brushing dirt off of her legs.

“wait!” he cried before she could walk away. surprisingly, she paused, looking back up at him. “why do you hate me? hate us? i keep trying to understand, but you are not easy to... well, understand.”

she only rolled her eyes, shrugging her shoulders. [y/n] chose to be difficult, especially with him. “maybe you are just an extremely unlikable person.” she shook her head, beginning to walk again.

all in one quick second, neteyam and his ikran leapt off the tree, catching the air as he soared downwards. the creature’s feet grabbed her shoulders, talons careful not to pierce her skin.

[y/n] let out a yell of fear, feeling as her feet left the ground. her words got stuck in her throat as they kept lifting upwards, gaining height. subconsciously, the girl clutched the legs of the ikran, not wanting to fall to her death.

“what are you doing?” she screamed, tears pricked in her eyes. “let go of me!” and so, he did, dropping her on the top of the tallest tree. she quickly wrapped her arms around its trunk, mouth dry and ears ringing from the wind sailing through.

“why do you hate me?” neteyam demanded again.

“i don’t know, forest boy. let me down! i am not a tree-hugger like you!” she swallowed. “please?” her voice was quiet, eyes catching his.

he let out a sigh. “please, [y/n]. i don’t understand what you have against us. we are na’vi just like you.”

“i repeat, neteyam, i do not care what you are. get me down!” her eyes were shut as she held on, whispering words of affirmation to herself, trying to convince herself she wouldn’t die.

suddenly, everything seemed to go silent, the wind calming down. she felt a hand lingering next to her shoulder, allowing her to pry her eyes open in the slightest. “take my hand,” neteyam offered quietly. “let me just… show you something, alright? and if this doesn’t convince you to stop hating me, then you can continue to think of me in any way you desire. but… give us a chance.”

hesitantly, [y/n] stared at his hand, and then, slowly but surely, she let go of the tree and grabbed it. he helped her onto his ikran, the beast rumbling beneath her. she shook from the fear of it all, but all she wanted was to be on the ground again.

once she was settled, she grabbed neteyam’s waist, arms wrapped around him. “if you kill me, i will haunt you and curse you with whatever ghostly ability i have.”

the boy chuckled. “understood.”

and then the wind picked up, the ikran’s wings spread. the tree began to top with the weight of the creature, leaning closer and closer towards the ground�� before it took off straight into the sky.

[y/n] let out a bedraggled scream, feeling as they gained altitude moment by moment. she felt her weight tip backwards, and she clutched the warrior tighter, eyes squeezed tight. “neteyam!” she screamed.

“whoops, sorry,” he chuckled nervously. “he’s not, uh, usually like this.” she felt as they leveled out, feeling a little bit safer—for a moment, that is, until she heard neteyam mumble “oh no.”

and down they went. “oh my—eywa please!” she cried, taking in a deep breath right before the ikran dunked them into the cold ocean waters. three times.

“what are you doing?” neteyam cursed at his ikran. “we need her to like us!” that did not seem to help, because instead, they went straight back up, their ears popping from the change in pressure.

“and now the spinning,” he commented dryly just as the beast began to turn rapidly through the air, aimed downwards right back into the waters.

[y/n] gripped his chest at this point, face buried in his back. “okay,” she began breathlessly. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry for how i’ve treated you and your family. just, please, get me off of this thing.”

and then, the ikran pulled up, leveling off.

all of a sudden, everything was calm. the wind was no longer the strongest aspect, and [y/n] could finally feel her nerves again. although still shaking, she felt safer, clutched onto the back of neteyam.

the sun was setting in front of them, the sky a gorgeous orange, contrasting the aquamarine of the ocean.

she felt as they lifted upward, slowly and smoothly. her skin was blessed with the moisture of the clouds that they soared through, her hand instinctively reaching out to feel it. [y/n] looked around in awe, the imagery feeling.. fake. it was as if she were in a story, like those kinds her mother used to tell her.

it was beautiful.

as they pulled up even farther, they reached the tops of the clouds. she gasped at the brilliance of the moment, tears touching the corners of her eyes. “neteyam,” she breathed, one arm still wrapped around his waist.

“how about that?” he teased, although he himself was feeling rather lightheaded thanks to his extremely flushed face. thank eywa she couldn’t see it.

she chuckled lightly. “i admit it, that’s pretty extraordinary.” they sat in silence, the chilled breeze allowing for her to calm down. and then, suddenly, the guilt pooled itself in her stomach.

“i’m sorry,” she began softly. “i’m sorry for who i’ve been, what i’ve done. i.. i just have been here for so long, it feels, or felt, i suppose, like letting your family in would change everything. and i don’t want change. it’s scary,” she admitted, a weight falling off her shoulders. she’d never told anyone that before, not even ao’nung.

she felt his smile from where she rested her chin on his shoulder. “i understand that more than you would think,” he whispered. “leaving your home is not at all the easiest change.”

“no,” she agreed. “it is not. and neither is flying for the first time, but it can be done, and it can be enjoyable.”

with that, they fell into a comfortable silence, her weight leaned against his as he directed his ikran through the air.

and in that moment, they both were thinking one thing. this is perfect.

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part V)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.4k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: some misogyny and shit (you know who), psychiatry stuff, canon gore, blood, heads exploding, and violence?.

Notes: so I'm sorry for any mistakes during the psychyatric process, I go to therapy and take medication myself so that's all I know plus google research. And be aware of the gore descriptions, I tried to do my best I guess lol. Thanks for reading as always!

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part V: Blow Your Mind

With a deep breath, you reviewed the symptoms Soldier Boy barely 'gave' during your session. The list was kind of long on the pages and it read:

Always being on guard for any danger, self-destructive behavior, irritability, angry outbursts, panic attacks, feeling emotionally numb, not trusting anyone, not feeling safe, hypervigilance, intrusive thoughts, fatigue, muscle tension, headaches, back pain...

There was a weird silence surrounding both of you, mostly because of his mood and his change in demeanor from a somewhat friendly asshole to an irritated, unbearable jerk. Once you had started with the uncomfortably stupid questions, he felt threatened. Soldier Boy wasn't actually open to talk about his past and the traumatic experiences he had, and that meant it was difficult to get to know how his body and mind were reacting to all the stress and madness he went through in decades, adding those weeks after Billy Butcher had released him from his nightmare.

He was opposed to speaking directly about how he was feeling, but you knew better that Ben speaking out on his symptoms was not going to happen. So you had to ask each one of them and review some his most harsh experiences directly, in order to receive monotonous responses, limited to: 'yes', 'no', 'I don't know,' and finally 'what the fuck is that?' You took them all as an absolute yes.

He was being defensive and you knew better than to miss anything after he almost burned the whole damn building. And with the small but confident experience you had with psychiatry, you concluded that he needed medication and therapy. As soon as fucking possible.

"Yeah, you have PTSD," you said after a moment and your eyes found his unreadable gaze.

He raised his eyebrows with false surprise. He already heard that shit from Hughie before. "And where's the fucking drugs?"

"For that to happen, you have to stop the weed first."

"I've survived bricks of coke mixed with shit you probably don't know about and you want to take the only thing that's keeping me sane? Fan-fucking-tastic!" he fumed, but you didn't flinch. Not a bit.

"Look, my goal is keeping you safe and making you sane because you definitely are not. Not right now. And since I took you out, you'll follow my process, so stop whining."

He chuckled softly with a bitter grimace on his lips as he shook his head softly. "No, that's not gonna happen."

"I don't care if you agree with that, it's settled," you continued, a triumphant smile plastered on your face.

It was true, you didn't give a single shit. He had to be clean and quit any type of drugs to start the medication but most importantly, to use his blood. Eventually. You were more than aware that he wouldn't die easily, that was proved. And it was just a matter of time to get him to your lab to take samples of his blood and run the necessary research on them while you and your team still continued the studies with the Anti-V prototype. You were only hoping that day would arrive soon enough. Two months sober, that was all you needed from him. And the best part? Soldier Boy didn't have to really know the whole details.

Ben, on the other hand, clenched his jaw so tight and closed his eyes for a moment after hearing your statement. You really were a fucking bitch, letting him fall into the abyss of misery and torture that was his own wrecked mind. He considered your intentions internally, once again for the millionth time. You showed up there all dressed up, playing a rich doctor when in reality you were just a fucking slutty brat, just to tell him he had to stop his usual pot, which you also brought happily when he asked you to. And now, you were taking away the only thing that stopped him from ripping your head off. What a great move.

"That's not smart," he insisted.

"Why not? I have you under my own terms."

Ben tilted his head, studying you carefully. "You can't stop me, doll. None of you can. I'm only here because I find it suitable instead of storming out and catching unnecessary attention."

Ben saw you swallow down, he immediately knew it was because you were angry, not scared. You never really seemed scared of him. And you tried to restrain yourself from slapping him right away. "Are you blackmailing me again, Soldier Boy?"

"Is just a warning," he said, nonchalantly. "Wouldn't want to harm such a pretty thing like you, now wouldn't we."

"Oh well, just a reminder I can also turn on the damn gas if needed," you snapped. The arrogant smirk on his lips fell off and it was your turn to smile back. "We all have hidden cards, right?"

Such an arrogant bitch, he thought.

"So, what's your plan?" you switched the subject to avoid going further into what was troubling him.

"What do you mean?"

"Homelander. You want him dead, don't you? You must be getting ready to fight again..."

His body seemed tense once you pushed him to talk, looking away from you to calm a bit. "Isn't that what all of you want?"

"Any sane person would love that, trust me."

Soldier Boy narrowed his eyes. "Well, I can do it. If I wasn't here... You've seen what he's capable of. Jesus, I've seen it," he bitterly chuckled. "And the kid? He's a fucking menace."

"You've been watching the news, I take that—"

"The fuck I do! Wasn't gonna wait for you to keep me up to date of what the fuck is going on!" Ben shouted, his loud voice roaring in your ears despite the distance.

"I don't want you to stress out more than you do," you said, vacillating. "A lot of things take time, such as you adapting to the twenty-first century."

"I'd love to know when that'll happen," Ben insisted. "Or else, I might just break out."

With a tentative smile, you started to write down the report. "I'm so glad you're talking more during our sessions."

You barely said goodbye to Soldier Boy once you finished your daily session. Your head was aching as you walked down the aisle, barely leaving the empty wing of the building behind. Certainly he was hard to handle and was behaving defensively. Before you left he began asking, or better said, bossing you to get him whatever the kid Hughie told him he needed to learn how to use. Shit like the internet and GPS, he said. You told him he was not ready for it yet.

But you'd give him a golden star for trying and insisting so badly, even if he was against eighty percent of your methods. He was up to something, there was no question for that. He was a soldier, more or less like his given supe name. People like him always had a plan, and underneath his facade, there were more plans backed up with words of honor that you had to track sooner or later.

As you made your way to your office, greeting your lab employees and guards, a disturbing sensation grew up inside. Before crossing the doorframe you subtly looked around, focusing for some reason in the security camera, more time than you'd like to admit. You turned again to finally get inside, facing the entry of your office when hurried steps and a voice stopped you from doing so.

"Doctor!"

Once again you turned on your heels to see your assistant, tablet in hand. Those had to be the results.

"Hey," you began. "You have everything?"

Bianca nodded with a straight face and handed you the tablet. You noticed her tight grip and her somehow trembling fingers when you took the device from her hands. You eyed her a little, she remained with her hands intertwined in front of her, her attention seemed lost. With caution, you continued to check the file.

"Is the patient alright?" you asked, reading the profile of the supe who had the not so good luck of being tested previously.

Solaris was his supe name. And he had the ability to manipulate light and matter with his mind. He had taken part in the program for a month now and this was his first test. As always, each supe you had into the program was low-profile. You were thankful of your team keeping these supes under their gaze to offer them some sort of solution, even after all the deaths you tracked from time to time when a test of the Anti-V was run. More than a solution for them, it was a partial contribution to find it.

You quickly scanned the updated file that Bianca completed for you. He was doing better than projected, his powers were still gone with a forecast of probably coming back within a couple of hours. A deep breath left your lips. Now that was an improvement. It was the first time anything like that happened on any tests. The supe survived, he was weak but the powers were off for a bit. It was a small step closer to your goal. Just a little bit more maybe and it could be done, finally...

"He's resting right now," Bianca interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes were back on her face.

"This is great news, thank you. I trust he's doing okay."

She nodded. "He is."

"Great, I guess I'll see him in a couple of hours," you said about entering your office.

"Wait!" Bianca suddenly closed the little space between both of you. She breathed heavily before stuttering words out. "I, I have- I'm sorry..."

"Are you okay?" you inquired, knowing her behavior was unusual. She swallowed down, turning her gaze away, her hands shaking. Was she sick? "Bianca, what's wrong?"

You tried to reach her cheek with your hand, but she stepped back abruptly, looking at you like if you were a ghost with her eyes red and wet, and a fine layer of sweat adorning her skin.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

You walked towards her, worried about what was going on but every step you took, she also gave it back.

"Bianca, what's happening?"

Her back bumped the wall of your office, and finally, she started to cry. "I'm sorry. You have to go, please..."

Your heart started pounding heavily on your chest. "What—"

"Go now! Please... Please don't hurt me..."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Bianca," you whispered, trying to comfort her.

But she continued crying and mumbled incoherent words with eyes shut, while hot tears streamed down her face. She choked on her sobs as she pleaded for her life. But you didn't understand why. You tried to soothe her, reaching her shoulder with your free hand.

And when you placed your palm on her, everything became red. It all happened in seconds. Ropes of warm blood covered your face in an instant. A loud gasp fell from your throat. You felt every drop mixed with brains on the skin of your face, on your neck, and sliding down the skin under your blouse. It was shocking and equally disgusting. And your eyes remained shut, not brave enough to move or see the horrid picture in front of you.

Your palm was still on her shoulder when the remains of her body fell to the ground with a thud. Your trembling hand wiped some blood from your face to open your eyes anew. The wall was painted with her, as much as you were, and it left a trail of blood from where her corpse slid to the floor. Her head long fucking gone.

"Shit."

Shit. Fucking shit. Was it him? It had to be him. There was no reason to doubt it. It was him. And he complied with his promise. Had Homelander been controlling Bianca? Was she the only one? No. There had to be something more. Homelander wasn't easy and he wasn't merciful with anyone. You had to stop him and get Soldier Boy out of the building. Now.

You tried to control yourself as best as you could, walking away to reach anyone, crossing a corner on the hallway, where a guard was casually passing by.

He stopped on his tracks at your sight, covered in blood and meat. "Doctor?"

"I need your help," you whispered.

He nodded quickly and you began explaining with a low, shaky voice.

"I don't know what happened, my assistant was right there with me when— Fuck!"

You walked some inches away when his head exploded, just like Bianca's did. Luckily, or not, this time was inside his helmet. All the red brains and blood were catched by it. Still, you wanted to throw up right fucking there. The remains of his body fell to the floor with a loud sound.

With a deep breath you continued your way, finding guards, lab assistants and agents. If they were alive, their heads popped into your sight. And if it was your somehow lucky moment of the day, you just found their headless corpses lying on the ground, creating a pool of blood you tried to avoid.

The only thing on your mind was taking Ben out of the building. The alarm had been turned on and the annoying sound of it was driving you crazy. Your head ached more than ever as you made your way to Soldier Boy for the second fucking time during the day.

Since there was no time to open the heavy door properly, you used a force field around the metal, moving the door until it slipped enough to let you in. You found him standing in the middle of the room. Eyes dark and alert, with fists and frame ready to fight. He wrinkled his nose once you entered the place.

"What the fuck's going on?" Ben growled, observing your blood covered face.

"We need to go, now. Take your clothes off."

He blinked, taken aback. Before he answered you continued with an explanation.

"I'll turn you invisible, but can't turn your clothes," you ordered, looking in the closet for a sports bag you knew was inside and picking a couple of shirts, pants and boxers as quickly as time allowed you to. Once finished, you turned to Ben again.

"Mind to fucking clarify?" he insisted. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Look, I'll tell you everything once we're out," you turned one of your hands invisible for him to see.

Ben snorted with laughter. How ironic, he thought.

"No fucking way."

"Strip. We're leaving."

[liveforjeongin]

Hi! can i ask lee:i.n. ler:skz.

(Sorry for my English. I write through a translator)I.N. wanted attention from others. But everyone was in a bad mood. That's why they answered him (rudely). Because of this he was sad. The next day, others saw how I.N. lacked attention. So they decided to fix it.

Attention

I LOOOVED writing this one, though I did change it slightly without noticing so um😭, I hope you don't mind😭

And ty for the request<3

-tickle fic, if you don't like that you can keep scrolling

requested by: @hunerri

word count: 1.1k

warnings: angst ig? Soft tickles

taglist: @itzsana-kiddingmenow @makebelieveyouregoodenough @reginald-stay09 @hearted-anon

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Jeongin was peacefully sleeping in his room. Chan was at the studio, as it was usual of him, so he found himself home alone.

He soon woke up from his nap, that had only lasted around ten minutes, not so good news for the maknae of skz.

Actually, Innie had decided to take a nap to distract himself from his own feelings. He had been feeling slightly… Lonely? Living just with Chan, and him being very busy lately, the youngest had… Been quite missing the old attention from his hyungs.

Jeonginnie would’ve never thought he’d find himself missing that attention and the way they treated him. They saw each other really often, obviously, and were soon going to start their world tour. Even so, Innie couldn’t help but feel this way… He wanted their attention, but how could he even ask for it…?

In about an hour later, the youngest in skz decided to finally do something about his feelings, and went to visit his favorite hyung (obviously Felix).

… And Seungmin.

When Jeongin arrived the Seunglix dorm, Seung was just about to go out, and was kinda in a rush, so when Innie tried to talk to him… Let’s just say his response wasn’t that nice…

“Hi hyung, how’ve you been?” Jeongin softly asked.

“Innie, not now” Seungmin replied, serious.

“Oh… Sorry, I just-“

“I just don’t have the time to deal with you right now” Seungmin simply said, and then left.

Jeonginnie felt naturally sad… But he understood, his hyung was busy, stressed maybe… And he understood that.

Fortunately, Lix was still in the dorm… Maybe he could try with him.

But his response was… Not much different from Seungmin’s.

“Hi, Lixie hyu-“

“Innie, I can’t right now” said Felix, not even stopping his LoL gaming.

Innie tried to not lose hope, and headed to the Minsung dorm, where the answers he got were pretty much the same as Seunglix’s, and also in the Hyunibini dorm.

Innie returned home, sad and disappointed, and when he reached his room, he let himself cry.

Less than 20 minutes later, Chan arrived home… He had received a text from Changbin, who had noticed the youngest’s depressed demeanour, and was worried about him, and also a bit guilty for not talking to him in the best way…

Channie entered his dongsaeng’s room, and witnessed Innie on his bed, crying. It broke his heart…

Chris carefully got on the bed, wrapping his arms around his youngest right after.

This startled I.N, but after turning around and realizing it was his hyung, he decided to just let himself cry on his chest and be comforted by him.

“What’s wrong, Innie?” Chan asked his dongsaeng softly.

Innie just shook his head, not wanting to be fully open with his feelings, but the soft and caring look in Chan’s eyes was all that was needed for him to change his mind “I-I guess I’ve just been feeling… A bit alone…” He begun.

“I miss the guys, and I miss the attention I used to have. I didn’t want to say anything because… I didn’t want to look childish… I’m not a baby, Chan, and I didn’t want to look like it…”

“But I just can’t help but feel like I do… I was used to all that attention and affection and stuff… I guess it just… Feels strange to not have it…” Jeongin finally confessed, the tears running down his cheeks.

His words touched Chan’s heart… Aww… His poor maknae had been hiding this feelings of his all this time…

Chris stroked the younger’s hair, trying to soothe him “Aww, Innie… It’s okay to feel that way… I don’t think it’s childish. It’s perfectly alright and normal…” He talked softly.

Jeongin had no more words. He just wanted to cry right there on his hyung’s arms for the rest of the week.

But a ring on the bell interrupted that.

Channie stood from his cuddle with Innie, and went to open the door. When he came back to Innie’s room, all the members came with him.

“Oh, Innie…” Hyunjin and Lix went to hug him as soon as they saw him “We’re so sorry…”

“All of us are, Innie…” Seungmin approached him and ruffled the maknae’s hair gently “We shouldn’t have treated you the way we did… Specially me…”

“Please don’t cry anymore…” Binnie told him.

“I don’t like seeing you cry… Come on” Lino gave his dongsaeng a poke on his side, making him shudder and let out a soft giggle “Hyung, stop…”

All the members shared a mischievous grin as Min kept poking the maknae. They loved seeing him smile like that, even more when his adorable dimples showed.

Some more of the guys soon joined the tickle attack towards their maknae. Hyun nuzzled on his neck, knowing Jeongin was insanely sensitive to any touch there.

Felix sneaked his hand under Innie’s shirt, and made sure to gently and thoroughly tickle his sensitive belly.

Jeongin’s ribs also got tickled, by Seung, and the rest of the members, who weren’t tickling him, made sure to make him feel all flustered.

“You liking the attention, Innie~?” Channie teased him.

“Of course he does!” Seungmin said “Look at how cute he’s being~”

Changbin was just stroking the maknae’s hair, making sure he feels safe and comforted, and Jisung was smiling and chuckling at the scene in front of him.

Meanwhile, Jeonginnie was kind of… Giggling his head off.

The guys’s fingers (… Or nose, in Hyunjin’s case) were moving all over his sensitive spots, tickling every inch of skin they could, sending these nice, electricity-like touches through his entire body, he couldn’t even protest. He felt great, he was being comforted and given the attention he had desired for days.

“Is this okay, Innie?” Lixie made sure to ask.

Of course I.N would never admit to be liking this… No, he could never let himself to do such thing… But in his current, giggly, cozy and almost overwhelmed in the best way possible state, it’s not like he was thinking really well… So he ended up confessing.

“Yehehehes… This is perfect hyungs… Thahahahahank you…”

His hyungs just grinned softly at his vulnerable words, glad that he had opened like that to them...

Jeonginnie’s giggles continued filling the room, the members cooing at him basically all the time.

After a couple minutes, the tickling time was finally over, and the guys just cuddled Innie, giving him some gentle aftercare.

“We love you, Innie…” Chan said affectionately.

Some more minutes cuddling passed, and after a while, Hannie decided that I’d be nice to watch a movie to have some more quality time together.

So they all sort of ended up having a sleepover in the Chanin dorm that night-

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... Hi again😽

I hadn't written in a while, but I can safely say that this is my absolute favorite fic ever, and I loved writing it<3

I'll see you guys next time😻

[dazyskiie-luv]

Overblot mc/yuu but...????

TW — mention of vomiting, fighting Crowley and winning (sorry Crowley lovers), past death. I like thinking a lot tbh

not necessarily angst but it is in here! Same with fluff...this was really just me rambling.

* EDIT: WHY DID IT TAKE HOURS UNTIL I FINALLY GOT TOLD I WAS WRITING OVERBLOT WRONG.

I think about MC overbloting a lot and I also think about adding it into my own books because of how??? good??? the idea???? is???????

I genuinely imagine that even from the start MC was in danger of overbloting themself, with the stress and despair of finding out they aren't in THEIR world, away from their (family and/or friends) with possibly NO WAY BACK EVER because of some egocentric crow refusing to do more than he wants to???????

They would obviously be hella upset, stressed, depressed, anxious, etc because they know NOTHING of this world and is practically a BABY among people who lived here THEIR WHOLE LIFE.

So as more overblots happen, the more their OWN overblot is brewing. Bubbling, waiting to enter the game. Especially with the magic always getting slashed onto them. I think the only reason why they HAVEN'T overbloted just yet is because of grim

a more personal headcanon; Grim's fire, when you have a close bond with him, sorta starts erasing your blot and fueling HIS flames, making it more powerful. Essentially, think of when you're close friends with someone... you'll find it easier to fight for them right?? like you have more power to do that??? that's what its like

Now think of when MC is just TOO deep in their mind, TOO deep into their emotions and its the ONE TIME grim isn't there to help. They go to throw up blot and after panicking for a bit they just accept it. They accept that "I'm gonna overblot and probably die" because they're just too tired to worry abt themself

They don't tell anyone and since the overblot is already taking over the entire inside of their body, grims flames can't really???? get it all???? It'll always be there and it'll continue to grow and slowly grim notices that when he's feeling more powerful than ever while MC is showing obvious signs of getting ready to overblot

Grim choosing not to say anything to other people would be like... i guess out of character but at the same time i think In character????? He knows how tired MC is with dealing with everyone and honestly he's tired of it too so YASSS SLAY HENCH-BESTIEEE!!!!!

Sooner or later the others would notice too and it would be a little late to help MC since the overblot is already seeping out of their skin like they're crying. and honestly? their body IS crying. it's crying blot. And even as everyone is screaming and panicking about MC, they're just... sitting there.

Like they're annoyed everyone is making a big deal out of it considering no one cared before, and they're just like "stfu we're in class" and then focus on the teacher going "u can continue im sorry abt that."

And everyone is just??? confused?? because why aren't they going haywire or like.....???? idk..... crying in pain....????? what...........

MC just chilling the entire day while overbloting, even their overblot monster just floating behind them in peace and waving at times when people look for too long while everyone else is wary and giving them (+ grim who's always in MC's hold) a bunch of space while the teachers and dormleaders have their pens/wands/wtvr thr fuck at command just incase

but then everyone just realizes that??? MC isn't gonna???? do anything?????? and it kinda irritates them because why aren't you doing shit its freaking them out.

And lets say,,, ortho... as discreetly as he can... scans you. And it shows that you're perfectly fine??? like you aren't dying or in pain. It even shows the Blot monster being alright too like its just a guy standing there.

And now the confusion is up to 100 because WHAT????

MC and the Blot [+ Grim] just doing their everyday assignments and eating in the cafeteria with their friends being visibly tense and MC just raises an eyebrow like "whats wrong with yall tf" before continuing to absolutely DEMOLISH a burger they got for free. FREE!!! best day ever fr they'll tell you that much

I feel like the Blot would get sorta aggressive/protective when it comes to people who has like hurt MC to the point they had to take a nurse visit (half of the school but its alr we gang fr) but when it comes to crowley....??? They'll see the FULL POWER of a magicless blot monster which is actually more terrifying than the others.

The blot going hulk on crowley is so funny to imagine for me cause he'd just be running away and suddenly gets smashed into a pillar from a literal stomp. just one. and it was relatively weak compared to the Blot AND MC picking up and swinging that SAME PILLAR to smash it into crowley.

All that anger and other negative emotion finally coming out the SECOND they even so as HEAR that crows heartbeat nearby. It gave everyone whiplash but then again they also all collectively thought that he deserved it considering he hasn't truly done anything to HELP the students but just to HELP the schools reputation.

I'm half certain a student died there and he just covered it up and they turned into a ghost that haunts places. (i mean... look at the three ghosts in Ramshackle. they used to be students there I'm pretty sure????? i forgot.)

As MC is beating the DOG SHIT out of crowley the Blot is just cleaning everything up slowly because they realized that they dirted up the place :( and when MC is done they help too as the teachers all circle around a throughly beaten and bruised Crowley who has blood seeping out of his mouth while being half awake.

Of course they help him don't die because they honestly don't want the one helpful person to go to the equivalent of jail in twisted wonderland for committing murder and ykw thats so real.

I feel like as Mc stays in this overblot form everyone thats close-ish to them gets memories of things that's happened to them in the past like how MC did. But it's worse. I want an mc thats traumatized im sorry and i want it to be worse than what half of these guys went through.

I need them to feel guilty even more. Like. "Oh my god I really said that when— holy shit" FEEL BAD!!!!! Grim would already know their past because I know I would be cuddling into Grim's stomach and crying about everything.

When Mc finally stops "Overbloting", the Blot would still be there but as its own person :D How does this work????? it works bc I said it does.

The Blot™ would help MC a lot and vice versa, basically acting like parents now with how worried they get over everyone and the other. Grim is eating the attention up though as both Mc and The Blot cuddle as therapy (and bc they wanna)

Everyone (especially idia) would need time to like... get used to that because there's "NO FUCKING RECORD OF AN OVERBLOT BECOMING ITS OWN PERSON AND BEING....NICE?????"(shrouds words not mine ong) and when they do get used to it its like everyone is genuinely happier because! gasp! they are!!!

kick the crow out the seat. Both the Blot and Mc are the new headmaster contrary to the students voting them when Crowley got demoted from it.

I also feel like....??? Instead of MC goinf back home cause they realize just how BAD it was back home, they choose to have a bridge between both realities so that its their (friends and/or families) choice on if they want to be with them in twisted wonderland or not.

MC & Blot beating the shit outta Crowley as everyone watches (and cheers)

[artsyannierose]

Nene’s Dead Corpse and her ghost bf

randomly made a crap ton more sense to me

why?

fricking school (screw school I hate you (no not rly I’m just stressed))

Anyway I’m a biomed class where unit 1 is studying medical investigations forensic science style

and one of the things is like, what happens to a person after the body has been dead for a while (post mortem or sum, see im learning :D)

Things like algor mortis, livor mortis, I’ve heard of. In fact I’ve even studied the clouding of the corneas before, but it never got to me till today

maybe it’s cause I cannot for the life of me study forensics without my wild imagination giving me nightmares or just panicking when I’m alone but aNyWays

I tend to imagine characters associated with death in these scenarios so I don’t lose it in class💀

*cough* Nene *cough cough*

So as I was taking notes on the slideshow, some of the images of clouded corneas reminded me strangely of something familiar, but at that point I couldn’t tell. There’s something haunting about the eyes (or maybe it’s just my over-analytical brain loving small details like this) they’re GORGEOUS

LIKE

IDK THEYRE PRETTY

Maybe it’s ‘cause the true color of the iris is completely visible in all its glory, without the pupil obscuring it

(something like this?? A little vivid tho lol)

but like

there’s no

life

no reflection, no emotion…nothing (which is so hauntingly beautiful leave me alone I’m a sucker for this now)

it’s literally just an eye with nothing but color

and then it hit me…it’s exactly the look Nene had when Mirai fast-forwarded her time

you can see in the image it’s just her plain magenta eyes with a fuzzy de-saturated blob in the center…aka clouded corneas

And that honestly made me realize that in this scene she’s not—she’s not even unconscious

No she’s literally, physiologically dead

THAT IS A CORPSE HE IS HOLDING

she is literally a dead body this hits me so hard😭😭

and I can imagine algor mortis kicked in by then, her body was probably cold to the touch

so imagine how he felt, and I’m aware people have analyzed his emotions but just think about it

he’s always seen her so full of life and hope, and now all he has left is an empty shell of her, cold and dead with no life left inside

…just like him

the more I think about it Hanako is just an animated corpse

he has no reflection in his eyes most of the time because he is ✨dead✨

I mean Mei, Mitsuba, and Hanako don’t have a little white reflection dot like Nene and Kou

Or maybe I’m overthinking it and Nene’s eyes are just super reflective

even for someone who presumably took his own life, he probably never saw tsukasa’s body start postmortem and actually feel dead bc it looked extremely bloody ngl (I’m guessing he killed himself right after 💔)

and now he’s holding someone he cares about like this for the first time and I’ll bet that scarred him

and he figured out that never, never ever did he ever want to see his sweet assistant like this again, lifeless in his arms

and so after that, cue Hanako in his villain era who basically became a yandere the entire picture perfect lmao

and he was unbelievably adamant about it too

I mean honestly if I held anybody I knew lifeless like that I’d be scarred for life and crying for days

seeing the light drained from someone’s eyes is so interestingly sad to me

Look at the difference:

Happy

vs Sad/Determined

vs Depressed (ig??)

vs Dead

She still has so much emotion in her eyes

and then d e a d

literally looks like a porcelain doll

wait she looks so pale in the last image compared to the others now that I think about it

I love aidairo’s eye for detail it’s so fun to figure out

Well anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk essay atp-

IT’S PAST 1 AM AND I SHOULD BE STUDYING FOR SAID BIOMED CLASS AND HERE I AN GOING ON A TANGENT ABOUT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER’S EYES

send help

anyways excuse me while I grab a box of strawberries to munch on and cry my eyes out all over my homework before I sleep-