#i have no idea what is in the sewers but i'm using them here

[his-writing-blog]

Crazy for you, oh boy | Shane x Harvey

Quick tags not in tags: suicidal thoughts mentioned, getting together, mostly fluff, bit of dark humor, they were friends before that, ooc sewers

Shane stood by the Saloon's bar in his usual spot. Also as usual, he was holding a pint of beer in his arm. And in his usual manner, Shane took a sip of his drink. Usually, his mind would be plauged by the visions (getting to work at jojamarkt next day).

Yoba, how he hated that place. He wouldn't work there anymore if he had any say in it. Sadly, he needed that money. Plus, he can't just leave poor Sam alone within the land of Tartarus under the lead of Krotos (Morris).

What was unusuall tonight, was the lack of thoughts regarding his little hell. Tonight his mind was stuck in the purgatory of longing after a feeling. A feeling that he wished for harder with each gramm of the alcohol in his blood.

Shane wasn't prone to those soul minglings before being brought back from the dead at The Clinic. The sight of his momentary guardian asleep on the fucking plastic stool, leaned agains the wall, legs curled to his chest and prepped against Shane's bed frame, made the ex-alcocholic stirr something deep inside of his chest and reset in his brain. He didn't think he could go back to looking at the man the same way he did before. In seconds, Harvey got promoted from being this mystical doctor seen by Shane once when he was running late to his job, to a real person that Shane wanted to get closer to.

Shane wouldn't have known what to call his current feeling if it wasn't for the new farmer, Laura. For someone so disorganised as him, Laura could muster up some good advice when coherent enough.

"The desire to be desired. And the desire to desire that thing the same way." Laura told Shane. He stopped in his track after hearing that. And then he burst out laughing. "What? If I didn't desire to pass down my legacy and Guiliermo didn't desire to be owned by me specifically, we wouldn't have each other!" She picked up her cat up to Shane's face. The orange cat looked at him right in the eye, as if challenging him. To what, Shane had no idea. But the devil's youngling must have sensed his lack of defense and meowed loudly in victory. Shane just turned around and went back to Marnie after loosing the one sided battle. He heard the farmer's laughter goes quiet as he walked.

Closing his eyes, Shane could almost see Harvey's face staring at him fondly. His mind tried to imagine his expression change to more passionate one. Shane tried not to let his mind take control. The more thoughts of this calliber, the most likely he was to send his addictions to the bottom of the cliffs alongside with him.

He looked down at his glass, half full with a beer. It was supposed to be his first and only one tonight. But with how things were going, Shane was tempted to throw the glass across the whole local and preach the words of his soul. How he felt because of the booze. How the will feel because of the booze. How it could ruin their life as hard as it ruined his. How one drink led to another to another to another to another to another to another to anot-

Warm chocolate eyes blinked at him right before his face. Shane relaxed his grip on the glass. He pushed it towards Gus, dropped some coins on the counter and left. He ignored the looks given by the townfolks and let himself fall into the fresh breeze outside. He stood in front of the darkness that loomed over the town at the edge of the forest. Without any more thought, he let himself be swallowed by it. It wasn't long before his eyes got used to the lack of the warm radiation of laps lit up around the town. The sky was truely one of the main reasons why Shane didn't get with his plans. Constelations of unwandered paths streched right above his small and meaningless life. Glittering and saying that maybe it was worth being there even if just to marvel at their beauty for a fleeting moment.

Shane wandered around the forest, his gaze lost in the stars, mind still by the fond eyes it couldn't bare to leave behind. He didn't know how long he was out there untill he saw the edge of the cliffs. Instead of heading acrossthe grass, Shane followed the overgrown path. It led to a narrow stairs that led to the large pipe that finished (or started?) the maze of sewer canals spread under the town. Drunk Shane liked to joked that it was an underground mirror reflecting the spiralls and labirynths made by stars. As if an artist scribbled down the unseen paths between stars and the pages landed on the desk of a rough engineer who tried and failed to recreate their grace.

As Shane marveled upon the genius of the cosmic blueprint, a quiet song was to be heard. He looked around, trying to find its source. After seeing nobody at the forest's clearing and no soul on the beach below, Shane was sure that it was coming from inside the pipe. His body tensed up, ready to initiate a fight or flight revalation at whatever might come from the sewer. The thing is, Shane would be nothing wothout his brain. And his brain, soothed by the strange melody, didn't want to response accordingly. So he sat at the top of the stairs, entranced by how sweet the sounds were. He was almost lulled to sleep by it when he started to sway to the rythm lightly. He got startled when he heart someone sing along the tune. What shocked him more was the fact that the voice was coming from his mouth. The words to the song came to him with a blink of an eye. Shane let himself be taken by the melody's current. And with a small smile on his lips, he sang.

"Harvey, nobody knows what I see."

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

Scene III: i told you to hold my hand! | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, very sus and innappropriate boss-employee dynamics, low key sugar daddy!otto hightower vibes, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS I DID IT. I FINISHED IT 😫 Also, its come to my attention that perhaps the way i planned out everything geographically is ??? bad but no its not just roll with it AND!! remember yall voted for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i have a feeling you didnt read the prompt fully but whatever HAHAHAA i honestly have no idea where i meant to take this fic, so ???? enjoy?? HAHHAAH

Shoot me if I ever say it again, but for now: gods bless capitalism, specifically for it desecrating a national landmark.

Where once I was one of the people who protested against the building of the High Garden Centre, girl, was I thankful that the old ruins of the fucking Red Keep laid there as a little ol' artsy featurette.

"What's that sound?" Daemon asks as we stand from our spot.

I turn to my side, never before so relieved to hear and see, no more than two blocks away, a rave spilling out of a club, the very one Libby and I were at before we got into this shit show. "That, my prince, is called EDM."

I hurriedly run to Libby's side to pick her up, but Daemon does that himself. He get down and pulls the blue haired woman on his back, and I help him. At the same time, I feel a buzz from my satchel.

My phone!

Daemon watches me as I frantically claw for my device. The amount of texts and call notifications that pop up on my screen is overwhelming. I decide to just let it go off and grab Daemon's arm, "come on."

We walk down from the ruins, shifting through the shrubs and foliage around it. I catch the sight a mall cop and feel agitated when he looks over. He couldn't care less though, the site was open to the public after all, and with a literal club being right there, we were the least of his worries.

We pass the rusty chain fence surrounding it, and draw near Harrenhal (the club). Once we're there, a bunch of men hoot and holler at me. I ignore them as they say something about my 'Targaryen' hair and it dawns on me they were probably calling me princess and lady because I was still in a fucking Targaryen era dress.

Still, I ignore the stupid fucks as they ask to see my pretty skirt, opting to walk faster instead. I was horrified by how loud and violent Daemon's scream was.

He shouted so gutturally that I couldn't understand a lick of The High Valyrian flaming out of his mouth. The vein on his neck popped out and I literally had to hold him back from charging and dropping Libby.

"Daemon, please!" I whimper, heart racing, "Libby's still on you-"

"Grab her and I'll fucking ram steel down- COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY THAT-"

Steel? I look to his belt. Fucking seven hells, he brought Dark Sister?

I look back at him with wide eyes, feeling nauseous now that I've caught how maddened he looked.

In a panic, I gently pat his face while pulling his arm back, "Daemon, please."

He doesn't look at me.

My voice gets softer and my eyes water, "Daemon, I beg you."

He huffs and clenches his jaw, still not sparing me a glance.

"We don't have time for them," I whisper and keep my hand on his cheek, "I'm just going to connect to the club's wifi from here, then I'll can call us an Ubor."

Daemon does not tear his gaze from the men, who eventually waddle away to whatever sewer they came from, still hollering bullshit as they did.

"Kesan daor nārhēdegon naejot nyetodha aōha irosh," Daemon mutters. I will not forget to slit your throats.

The relief that washed over me was unparalleled when I booked an Ubor set to arrive in 3 minutes. I whimper and rub my eyes, "okay, not long now."

Daemon finally looks at me, still visibly pissed, and adjusts Libby on his back.

I wipe my face, "we're just going to get in the c-" Fuck... I should probably prepare him for the car.

"Okay," I raise my hands, "we're going to get in a metal..." I motion to the space, "... there's going to be a- a- carriage? But with no horse... but and when I get in, you just get in with me, okay?"

Daemon's expression is now one of confusion.

I sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, "it's going to be okay."

His lips curl, "... OK."

I screw my eyes shut and shake my head rapidly, "I mean alright. Alright! ALRIGHT!"

Daemon takes in my visible frustration and nods slowly, "OK."

To be honest, Daemon was a pretty good Ubor passenger, save for the fact his sword nearly cut me, Libby, him and the fucking car seats when he tried to sit without removing his scabbard first. We were lucky the driver seemed to be used to... ren fair people.

He also seemed to be used to driving people to the ER. I was too relieved to think realize how fucked up that kinda is in the moment. Needless to say, I gave him 5 stars and an extra tip.

With Dark Sister in my grip and Libby in Daemon's arms, we finally made it to Lannister Medical Center.

The moment we get there, I run inside the ER and break down at the first nurse I see. I infodump everything, how Libby got attacked, how Harwin lost her, how some maesters tried to help us, how she lost a lot of blood, how I'm afraid she's going to die, how Daemon ended up carrying her, and I just keep going up until I saw Libby's blue hair scattered on a stretcher and the nurse told me to sit down.

I didn't have much fight in me left to argue, so I sit myself down on the bench. But then I see the nurse speaking to Daemon, who, seemed to be explaining what had happened, and I panic all over again.

Before I could stand though, another nurse was there to accommodate me. He did a checkup on me, asked me how I was feeling, and asked if I needed anything to calm down.

I told him I was fine and proceeded to answer his other questions. Daemon eventually came to my side and eyed him.

The nurse gives me a nod and offers a smile, "you seem to be physically well. Just let yourself relax. The doctors have your friend; they'll do their best to help her."

"Thank you."

The nurse nods again. He gives me and Daemon one last look before walking off.

I grab Daemon's hand once it's just the two of us. I look up and shudder, "we did it."

He looks down at me, violet eyes solemn. He brings a hand to my cheek and swipes at my cheek, "ȳdra daor limagon."

"I don't know what that means," I mumble.

"I said don't cry, pretty girl," he kneels in front of me, "worrying will not save your friend."

I stare at him, feeling my heart race and belly roll because of the look he had. He brushes my silver hair back behind my shoulders, only intensifying the flurry in my stomach. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, suddenly, my stomach growls. Oh.

Daemon turns his eyes to my belly as I clutch it.

"You want something to eat... prince?"

Daemon reaches a hand out, "lead the way."

I take his hand, grab Dark Sister, and hand it to him. He fastens his scabbard as we exit the ER and I go through my satchel, fishing for my wallet. Just before I get it, I remember that I blew most of my money on the Ubor.

"Fuck," I curse and turn to Daemon, "I don't have enough money."

Daemon rests his hand on his sword and simply stairs.

"I don't have coin," I clarify. I look around the road and figure our chances of riding a bus at this hour was nonexistent. I give him a look, "do you mind walking home with me?"

Daemon raises a brow, "as opposed to swimming home with you?"

I raise my brows and sigh, "Daemon-"

"Lead the way," he nods and points, "I am not one to tire easily."

I nod and slice through air to drive a point, "okay. No matter what happens," I reach out to him, "you have to hold my hand, okay?"

He looks at my hand then my face, his violet eyes sparkle with amusement. He chuckles but he links his fingers between mine (overkill if you ask me). I'm glad goosebumps don't form.

Daemon smiles softly, "you take me for a child, riña?"

"This child knows how to cross the street," I squeeze his hand harder than necessary and begin to walk off, "I'm not sure you do, kekepa." Grandfather.

Daemon laughs, full-on throwing his head back, "how hard is it to cross? You jus-"

His words go dry when an empty school bus passes us. He was so stunned by the yellow contraption, I had to tug his arm to continue walking.

Just then, a Megatron looking-ass truck drives down the street. I hiss and curse the 14 wheeler for emitting such horrible smoke, eyeing it as it drives away.

Meanwhile, I catch the prince's stunned reaction and almost feel bad for finding it funny. Almost.

We arrive at my apartment about 20 minutes later.

I press the elevator button and turn to Daemon, "don't put your arm between the door, okay?"

Daemon gives me a look.

The elevator opens and we step inside. Daemon gives me a look, "we have lifts you know."

I pull my head back, "you do?"

"At the wall," Daemon retorts as the elevator door closes.

"The wall?" I think for a moment, "ahh. You're right."

A beat.

I knit my brows, "wait, you've been to the wall?"

"Of course I've been to the wall."

The moment we get to my place, relief washes over me. I take my shoes off and scoop my hair in front, "fucking rip this dress off me."

Without a single thought between his brows, Daemon's reaches out to undo the ties at the back of my dress.

Just before he does this, I hear him walk in with his boots and nearly have a heart attack when he passes my threshold.

"OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I turn and shove him back, "take your crusty boots off now!"

Daemon looks at me in bewilderment but walks back and doesn't protest as he removes his shoes. He places his shoes on the rack along with mine.

Not wasting time, he catches my arm and yanks me towards him. He spins me around and immediately undoes the back of my dress. I hastily begin to tug my dress down once I can.

He chuckles, "eager girl."

I rather literally jump out of my dress when I can. Pent-up rage overcomes me. I turn around and start kicking the dress away, releasing all my frustration and anger out on the thing. I curse 8th century Westeros and the Red Keep in particular and assault the object until I'm out of breath.

I proceed to jump onto my sofa and allow exhaustion to finally take over my being.

A second later, I catch Daemon's expression and realize, he probably thought he was going to get lucky when I asked him to basically strip me naked.

"Ahh," I get back on my feet, "sorry about," I point to the dress, "that."

Daemon says nothing as he steps closer. He reaches out for my hip and I swat his hand away. I shake my head, "this is my house."

He chuckles as I evade him on my way to the kitchen, which was not nearly as far as it should have been. The prince eyes the space, "yes. An impressive little room you've got." He follows after me, "I'd love to see the rest of it."

I look at him as I reach my fridge and open the door.

Daemon squints at the light that radiates on me. I cuss at the fact I only had cereal (no milk) and some vegetables that have gone bad. I grab the paper box and hand it to him. He blankly stares at it as I discard the vegetables.

Daemon's brows contort at he box, "it's cold."

I wash my hands, "yeah, refrigerators do that."

"Gra'-nola," he reads.

"Granola," I correct as I dry my hands on my shift.

I'm suddenly struck with the realization his grubby has have never seen antibacterial soap. I snatch the box from him and motion to the sink, "wash your hands."

Daemon turns to the sink and purses his lips.

For a second, I debate if he'd melt if he uses something antiseptic, but then figure I should still take my chances.

I prop the cereal on the counter and exemplify him how to wash his hands. Daemon, with slight reluctance, pumps some hand wash on his palm, opens the sink, and rinses.

I excitedly applaud him once he was done.

"A hand towel," he raises his dripping hands.

I look around even though I didn't have a hand towel. I shrug, "I usually just use my pants."

Daemon shakes his hands by the sink, "your pants?"

"Yeah. They're like clothes that you put on your-"

He grabs my shift and pulls me closer. He wipes his hands on it, "I know what pants are, princess."

I push him off and smirks as he dodges. I make a face, "well, I do so beg your pardon, your majesty."

The prince lets out a low laugh, "don't get too brazen, or I'll have you begging till you weep."

I quickly change the subject, "get that damned sword off your hip." I shoo him and rummage through my kitchen cabinets.

Daemon watches this and chuckles again. He tilts his head as he eyes my legs. He undoes his scabbard, sets it on my dining table, and pulls out a chair. He sits down just as I find a can of Sbam. Huzzah!

I grab a chopping board and open the can. A small smile spreads on the prince's lips as stares. But then, his expression drops when I shake, or try to shake, the processed meat out of the can.

I huff once I've succeeded, and I begin to cut the Sbam chunk, "you know this was in created during the war," I slice a piece, "it saved a lot of people from starvation."

"Which war?"

I freeze when he says this. I open my mouth then close it, unsure if recounting the details of world wars to him was a good idea, "you know what, never mind that."

Once I was done with the Sbam, I got a pan and heat it up. I get a plate and a loaf of bread, then place it on the table.

I click my tongue at the sight of his sword, "off the table!"

Daemon watches as I take Dark Sister and replace it with the plate and bread. I place the sword by the shoes and he takes the plastic wrapped bread. He feels the material and opens it, "what is this?"

"Bread," I retort, going back to my pan.

"No, I know that, but what's it wrapped with?"

I give him a quick look, "oh, plastic," I begin to cook the Sbam, "it's made of carbon... I think- I dunno- don't quote me on that."

Daemon opens the bag and takes a slice of bread. He pulls his had back, "it's sliced."

I beam and jump excitedly, "it is! It's sliced bread! Betty White is older than sliced bread! And so are you!"

Daemon ignores this as he sniffs the piece in his hand. He takes a bite then and makes a face, "why does it taste like that?"

"Like what?"

His brows knit and his eyes narrow, "like a pretender."

I burst into a laugh. I flip over the Sbam with a spatula, "imitation bread?"

"It wants so earnest to be bread," he pushes the loaf away and shakes his head, "but it clearly isn't."

I laugh even harder.

He snorts at my reaction. He smiles as leans back on his chair. A few moments later, he grows serious, "you ought to dismiss your royal baker."

Oh. My lips twitch and I chuckle under my breath, "ah, yes. My royal baker. Yes, I will dismiss my royal baker for making horrible sliced bread. Yes."

The Sbam was now cooked. I present it to him on a plate, "bon app-- ... I hope you like it."

Daemon leans forward to scrutinize the dish.

I press my lips into a line as I sit down next to him. I take a slice of imitation bread and fold in a slice of Sbam. I realize just how hungry I was after taking a bite. Through half-full mouth, I mutter, "it's good."

Daemon watches me and follows suit. He takes some bread and Sbam, then chomps.

I stop chewing. Wait, what if he gets an instant heart attack because his living fossil-self can't handle processed food?

He licks his lips and chews. I begin to grow more agitated as he makes a face.

"It's delicious," Daemon says, going in for another bite.

My agitation turns into shock, "really?!"

"Well, it's no roasted pork, but it'll suffice," he mutter between chews.

I let out a soft laugh and nod, "I'm glad it's enough for the prince."

"I'm honored the princess herself made it for me."

Aw, fuck. Who's gonna tell him?

There is a knock on my door. At the same time, my phone rings.

Daemon is alerted by the sound and I dash away to finally answer my phone.

"What is that?" the prince asks.

"It's my phone. Remember? You can call people with it."

Daemon narrows his eyes as I rummage my bag for my device. The knocking on the door gets louder.

I turn to the door, "just a minute."

I find my phone and feel my stomach drop at the caller ID. The banging on the door persists.

I answer the phone and head for the door, "hello?"

"Fucking hells!" the voice is worn and apparently worried, "where the fuck have you bee-"

"It's not you outside, is it?" I cut him off as I head for the door.

"What?! No! I'm in the fucking North, dammit! Your friends have been calling me nonstop, since fucking Sunday! -"

I open the door and my face falls. Standing before me is a man in a dark teal suit; his tie was loose, his stubble was thick, and he held what looked like a dozen bags in his hands.

"- You and Libby have been fucking missing for days! Where-"

"Mr. Hightower," I lower my phone as the man on the other end continues to chastise me.

Otto Hightower looks me up and down, then sighs, "out of the way."

Without another thought, I step back to let him in. He expertly slips out of his leather shoes then heads towards my sofa. He places all the bags on the coffee table. I follow after him.

I hear my name being shouted from my phone. I close the door and follow after Otto.

I listen in on the call again and I hiss when the voice pierces my ear drum, "Jon, calm down."

"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I BE CALM WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!?"

I begin to panic when Daemon walks over.

"Who is that?" Otto asks me. He notices Daemon, then makes a face, "who are you?"

I look at Otto, then Daemon, and dash over to the prince, grabbing his hand. I watch in real time the recognition and disbelief that floods the Targaryen's features as he watches the other slowly remove his tie.

"Libby and I got stuck in the ren-fair!" I reply to my phone.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL?!"

"MY PHONE DIED, JON!" I shout back a lie.

Otto's brow raises. He looks at me and mouths, "Jon?"

I ignore that and groan "LOOK! I'm fine! Libby's-- ... Libby's," I whisper softly, "in the ER-"

"THE ER-"

"I'M TAKING CARE OF HER!"

"WHY THE FUCK IS SHE IN THE ER?!"

"Libby's in the ER?" Otto mutters.

I raise a finger to answer my phone, "Jon, please. I'll explain everything tomorrow."

He screams my name and I have to rip my phone away from my ear again. I vaguely hear him rant about how I should explain why his sister is in the fucking ER.

"Jon, Jon, I love you but I have to go," I quip and immediately end the call. I turn on airplane mode and throw my phone on to the couch.

I release a breath and find myself pulling a smile as the man in the suit eyes me. He's about to speak, but Daemon beats him to it.

"What was that?" the prince asks, pulling me by the arm to face him.

I turn to him and make a face. It's Otto that answers for me, "her ex boyfriend."

I turn to Otto as he tilts his head and raises a brow, as if daring me to correct him.

I do, "my best friend's brother."

Daemon eyes Otto; the latter makes a face, "who used to your lover," he crosses his arms, "I'm offended you take his calls but not mine."

"And who are you?" Daemon hisses, stepping towards him.

Without missing a beat, Otto meets his gaze and scoffs, "who are you?"

Daemon's pulls his chin back and chuckles dryly. His expression screamed FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT.

I jump in front of him, my back presses his chest. I give a nervous laugh, "Mr. High- Director- Mr. Director- sir. This is Daemon."

Otto watches as I grip Daemon's hands behind me.

"And Daemon," I barely look at him over my shoulder, "this is... my... employe-"

"Otto Hightower," he cuts me off, bringing his hand into his breast pocket, "Director and CFO of King's Landing Holdings."

I wince, fuck.

"King's Landing?!" Daemon laughs out loud.

Otto produces a business card.

"It's a company!" I turn around and wave my hands, "it's a company! An establishment!"

Daemon does not tear his eyes away from him.

"He's my employer!" I explain.

Otto offers a piece of paper between his fingers.

The prince looks at it and slightly pushes me away, "what's he doing here then?"

"That's hardly any of your business," Otto retorts, tucking his business card back into his pocket.

Daemon laughs and finally turns to me. He mutters something in High Valyrian along the lines of 'let me do something' and 'stabbing'. I frantically shake my hand and push him back.

He thankfully relents and I sit him back down on my dining table.

My relief is fleeting when I realize the only reason Daemon didn't refute was because Otto was trailing right after me. My stomach drops when I feel a hand on my back.

Otto is right behind me. He places a few of the paper bags he brought on the table. He opens them, "I bought you dinner."

I turn to him, intent to tell him he shouldn't have.

"Amongst other things," he adds.

Daemon barks, "we have dinner."

"How did you even know I was home?" I say at the same time.

Otto's eyes flick to him, to the plate of Sbam on the table. His face is blank as looks back to me. He decides to remove his coat jacket, "I suppose you'd-" eyes Daemon, "-also think a candle equal to a campfire."

"Mister Hightower," I helplessly mutter.

He hangs his jacket on the backrest. He turns to me, "and you were missing--"

My expression sours.

"-- what did you expect me to do? I obviously utilized my connections. I'm offended you'd ask me such a thing."

Daemon mutters something in High Valyrian again.

"Of course, I had come see you myself," he looks at me through his lashes as rolls up his sleeves. My eyes dart to his sleeve tattoos and arm veins. When I begin to scrutinize the hairs on his skin, I realize I've stared to long.

In a panicked frenzy, I begin to unpack one of the paper bags. He, himself, brings out a stack of food containers and places them on the table.

The smell alone makes my stomach grumble.

Otto steps away and comes back with plates and cutlery. He places one plate in front of me, and has a prolonged stare at Daemon before placing the other in front of Daemon. He says, "I would hate for prince Daemon to be reduced to eating Sbam for dinner."

My expression drops. Daemon does not move an inch.

Otto turns to me and pulls out the chair. I take a moment before sitting down, because, really, did I have any other choice?

Otto opens the containers one by one and my mouth waters as I see lobster, lamb, and lemon cakes. He serves me meat and veggies, "I would assume you're not hurt like your friend."

I watch as he places food on my plate. I gulp before responding, "I'm just... tired."

"Then, I would also assume you'll not be attending work tomorrow," he takes my hand, putting the utensils in them. He scrapes a chair to my side and sits down next to me, urging me to eat with a motion.

I look at Mr. Hightower, "oh no- I will! I will-"

"You won't," he raises a hand, "see to it you're well rested."

I turn to my plate, feeling a flurry in my stomach over his words.

"Are you not going to serve your prince?" Daemon cuts in, raising his brows.

The lamb I was about to eat drops back to my plate.

The two glare, as if willing the other to spontaneously combust.

Before anything else could happen, I stand and reach out to Daemon's plate. I squeak when both grab me by the wrist.

My throat tightens.

My heart races when Daemon stands, "release her."

Otto raises his brows and tilts his head, "sit back down."

I rip my wrists out of their grips. Thankfully, neither put up a fight.

They stare at each other for what felt like ages. My agitation rockets when I see my boss begin to fidget with his hands the way he did when he was annoyed and ready to do something drastic.

I give Daemon a panicked look and grab his wrist, "kostilus." Please.

Daemon clenches his fist.

I continue to beg him until he sits.

I squeak when he grabs my chair by the seat and pulls me towards him. He mutters, "kesan daor emagon ao va bona run." I will not have you near that thing.

I turn to Director Hightower; I could see his annoyance building.

Fuck.

"Miste-" "Enjoy your meal then," he speaks as he stands. He grabs his coat and points, "I've bought some first aid things. I'm sure your friend can help you put that away."

I move to stand but Daemon stops me. He looks up at Otto in disgust, "do mind the steel contraptions on your way out."

I snap at Daemon, eyeing him hotly. He places a hand over my legs, ensuring I do not evade him. I watch as Mr. Hightower heads for the door, and in a split second decision, I turn to the prince and kiss him on the lips.

He is evidently taken aback, but it only takes him another second to get into it. Once he's put his guard down, I rip away from him and chase after my boss just as he exits my apartment.

"MR. HIGHTOWER!"

Otto turns around. I huff as I meet him just outside my door, "I'm really sorry about him. He's... he's just like that."

"You're not responsible for the actions of others," he retorts, nonchalant.

"I know. But still-"

"You are responsible for the company you keep," he adds.

I brush my silver hair back, "and you're not responsible for my well-being."

He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm your superior."

I press my lips into a thin line, deciding not to get into this conversation right now, "that, you are, Director."

We stare at each other for a moment. I examine his well-ironed suit, noticing how he didn't bother to fix his tie or buttons any more.

"I'll-"

"Is he not-" Daemon kicks the door open.

My eyes widen, "DAEMON-"

"-fucking gone yet?!" he points Dark Sister in an offensive stance. I yelp when he swings his weapon and scratches the door.

Otto's fight or flight instincts kick in and he takes flight down the hall.

"DAEMON-" I scream. I duck down and grab him by the torso, "STOP IT!"

Daemon screams out in High Valyrian. He laughs and lowers his sword, "yeah, you better run."

[changelingsandothernonsense]

The people need to know where Josh would and wouldn't jerk it

Hello!!! I'm dying for a Josh attitude laugh so without further ado, Joshi's Top Ten Best and Worst places to jork it in Skyrim Province. If this does well then he might write a list about Morrowind and or Cyrodiil. Under a cut for being very NSFT

The Best of the Worst!

10. Best My room at Severin Manor.

Yeah, obvious I know! But you tell me that your house isn't probably the best place to jerk it without worry... I just gotta remember to lock the damn door... or not. Fuck um... Ah...I guess this would also go for my room at the Netch. I do remember to lock that door. I have some standards!

10. Worst The Gray Quarter

Why I don't fucking want to jerk it here? One, it's fucking freezing, which is already a turn-off. Two, it's a fucking slum where the walls are made of paper and everyone in the whole district can hear you. Do you hear that Malthyr?! I can fucking hear you!!! You're not that fucking appealing! I'm soft now! 9. Best The counter top of Sadri's Used Wares

Yes I know it's fucking crass, but who're you talking to? It's fucking funny to look my now wife's ex in the eye after I've done it too an he has no fucking idea! Yeah fuck you too dude, clean-up on isle seven. I am a jealous, petty mer but I am atleast aware of it. 9. Worst Morthal

It's a vampire infected swamp! Who the fuck decided to build a town in a cold, wet marsh!? I want their number, I got words for 'em an I'm not gonna be pleasant. Like I'm minding my business in whatever excuse for an inn they have there an this chick just sits herself on my lap like I was asking for it. Corruption sees corruption you know- she knew what I was an I her. Flaccid for a good few days after that near miss so there was no opportunity to jerk off anyway. You know how fucking hard it is to get clean yourself in water taken from a swamp? Give Morthal a skip unless you're into swamp vampires. 8. Best When in Riften

Sydari drags me to Riften fairly often to check on "business". Said "business" is in a secret hidey hole in the sewer an naturally I'm not allowed down in the super secret hideout. That's fine- it's fine! Anyway I get her house to myself a lot of the time (unless her ex husband has decided to ruin my day). Honeyside has it all, a lake I can swim in, a bath, a workshop I can tinker in... Look I may have chosen specifically to come in Brand-Shei's bathrobe after he broke my nose out of spite an I don't apologise for doing it. Fucking heir to House Telvanni? Bastard wouldn't even qualify to lick the guar shit from Neloth's shoe! Um...what was I talking about? Oh right-

8. Worst The Thieve's Hidey Hole

The cistern smells exactly like you'd think it does. Think about how Riften smells like stagnant canal fish water and stale piss. Now turn that up to ten an you have the fucking Cistern! No I'm not meant to be down there an yes I did follow Sydari down there once when I was bored. The guild can have it. I'm not jerking it here. It stinks! 7. Best A Jarl's Throne

This is more a fetish of mine idk I just think it's fucking funny to break into a throne room, rub one out on the great big chair an fucking leave without anyone noticing. Ultimate power move in the face of a self-congratulatory bastard who got that seat through an accident of birth. Taking them down a peg turns me the fuck on an I'm not gonna apologise for it! No I haven't jerked off on Ulfric's throne yet but that stupid fuck in Falkreath had a fun morning! 7. Worst The sulphur flats of Eastmarch

If it's not Hircine worshiping witches with a goat head fetish then it's dragons or wolves or Stormcloaks. It smells like the ass end of Red Mountain (also not a recommended place to jerk off). Look, there was one time ol' Sanguine got in touch with me whilst I was with my girlfriend an we kinda ended up in a weird marriage pact with a hagraven. It's not sexy I can assure you. There's just a fuck tonne of beasties that could ruin your me-time. It's just not worth your time. Also there's a group of Ashlanders that follow Ulath-Pal that have set up camp there an they kinda want the head of the Urshilaku Ashkhan...and I like my neck the way it is. Having said that.

6. Best The Eldergleam Sanctuary.

But TELDRRYYNNN you whine! That's a place of worship! You complain. Hey! Hey! Who are you talking to? I do not give a fuck! Look Sydari an I camped there an we had a huge fight over me being me. I left an found me a secluded little corner by a waterfall. Had a pretty rainbow and everything. I was actually relaxed for once an things just kinda went that way. It's a nice place to get yourself off... Spriggans not withstanding. Do not tell the Dragonborn that I'm the reason for everyone in that sanctuary being chased out by angry Spriggans, kay? No I haven't learnt anything from this an I'd do it again simply because of the above-mentioned thing about how defiling a place of power getting me off.

6. Worst Candlehearth Hall

I'm not allowed in here. None of us Dunmer are allowed in here! It's in Windhelm so I'm not really inclined to stick about yeah? Like sure I could ruin something but the atmosphere here just makes me painfully soft so... I'll piss in that cunt's stew though! 5. Best Any Temple of Talos

Because of the irony. BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING IRONY! 5. Worst. Bandit Camps

The temptation's there, I get it. You've cleared out a camp full of second rate idiots and you've pilfered their treasures. You're fucking tired an maybe you found their drug stash...usually you've found their drug stash an you're all prepped to pass out after blowing your load in the chief's bed. Take a second to think because I sure as fuck didn't an now I got another scar on my ass!

That was some real post-nut clarity right there! 4. Best Markarth's Dwemer Museum

Look the whole reason Calcelmo an that fetching nephew of his even have a museum is because of my research. The guy had my favourite sword an dagger in a case which like I appreciate the Crescent was in good hands an all but like also they're mine. It's all mine...I have a possession problem I guess. No I haven't rubbed one out here yet but fuck...my mind is so fucking warped! Like I would! I want to. FUCK!

4. Worst Wolfskull Cave

A cave near Solitude, seemingly inconspicuous and you might be tempted to take some time to yourself, yeah? Guess again. First thing you're gonna notice about this cave is that it smells like rot. That's your first sign it's probably not a great place to whip your dick out. Secondly you're gonna find the place is crawling with undead and fucking necromancers! Look, I'm not the best around anything dead an walkin. I avoid burials like the plague. I'm fucking terrified of it! I spent the whole time trying not to lose my cool in there. I spent all night trying not to freak the fuck out. Last thing I was doing was playing with myself.

Oh look, top three! I'm surprised you've made it this far in my guide to jerking it across Skyrim. I guess I should throw in some special mentions, DO jerk off as close to the Thalmor Embassy as you can. It's hot to make those stiffs angry and I know they wish they could taste me. DO NOT jerk off in the Blue Palace coz you will get caught and they will put you in a dungeon. Don't go in their dungeon I'm serious! Also don't try both in one night because you're drunk and lonely. It doesn't end well. Anyway... 3. Best The beach near Nchardak

I have a small camp set up on the beach near the ruins. Spent a fuck tonne of time there when I was "working" with Neloth on the puzzle locks there. It's where I used to go when I'd had enough of Neloth's bullshit. So naturally I've found myself cranking one out after a long day of researching. There's something oddly romantic about it. The sound of the Sea of Ghosts lapping at the ash covered sand, the beauty of the aurora overhead an no one to fucking bother me! I ah...I don't like bedclothes so the solitude lets me relax and just take care of shit. 3. Worst Tel Mithryn

Do you know how unsexy a giant fucking mushroom is? Why do you think most Telvanni Wizards are older than Vivec's left nut? No one wants to fuck in mushroom stink! It's like I'm smelling dirt an that's bothering the fuck out of me as I'm tugging an it's just ruining my mood! That an I think Neloth jush knows when I'm doing it and sends his dumb fuck apprentice over to offer me Canis Root Tea.

You can see how this is a problem right? It's fucking torture! Why do you think I just set up a yurt on the beach? My poor dick hurt!

2. Best Blackreach

Yes, there's Falmer an Animunculi an wisps an all that but I think you are well aware of how much I feel at ease over things that are pretty. Blackreach has everything that makes me happy. Dwemer ruins, things for me to belt the shit out of, clean water, GLOW. You stop me from whipping it out here? 2. Worst High Hrothgar

You know, I was tossing up between this an like the top of the mountain coz both have the same problems. One, it's colder than anything I can describe. Even inside the building there's fucking frost! You can light all the fires you want and the place is still fucking freezing! I gotta wear actual underwear when I'm here on top of all the other layers I gotta wear just to not feel like I'm about to die of hypothermia! Do you know how much I hate wearing underwear? Do you know how fucking uncomfortable thermal underclothes are? Even if I wanted to rub out a quick one, an believe me I have on multiple occasions, I'd have to fish my cock out from all the layers an he's hiding something fierce! Then you've got all those stuffy old men who haven't gotten off since I was still mortal watching me like they know my dick still works. Mothballs, old man stink, cold, dark walls with ice coating the door. I mean I can and have fucked here, I'm pretty sure this is where my daughter was conceived so like that's saving it from the number one spot. It's just I'd rather be anywhere else! 1. Best Sky Haven Temple

I hate the Blades. I hate what they represent. I hate that they still think they can boss around people in the name of an Empire that died long ago. I hate how they speak to my now wife an I hate that they expect me to lead them given my old position in the organisation. One- I have never wanted anything to do with the Blades. My membership was part of my prision sentence. Two- I killed my superiour out of revenge for my Corprus infection an I have zero regrets about it. They still think I owe them something. I don't! So why is it at the top of my list? Well, I'm fucking the Dragonborn aren't I? No one's gonna kick me out without her following me. Look I knew it would end with us leaving but I just could not help myself. It's the whole throne room thing again. I legitimatly get off on this shit! An fuck me was this one of the best solo nuts of my life! I don't care if Delphine has to clean the War Room. That's my territory now! 1. Worst Apocrypha

The question of "Can you jerk off in Oblivion?" isn't one that comes up often... unless you're me of course. I've done a good ninety year stint in Revelry. It's possible if the relm's set up for pleasure. Mora's house? That guy's missing his section on erotica. Yeah I know there's something to be said for all the oily tenticles if you're into that kinda thing. I'm not. I'm really not into it. You'd think I would be, given my love of knowlage an all that but FUCK! I've never felt so sick in my life! No, I have but that's not important. Why you don't want to jerk off in Hermaeus Mora's house? Simple. It smells like fish and rotting books! I'm not a guy who'll fuck just anywhere an that also goes for fucking myself. The place is disorientatiting at the best of times, the floor moves under your feel an there's strange Daedra behind every corner. I got taken by Sydari's predecessor whom I accedently released whilst I was looking for her an yeah...kinda got stuck there for gods know how long! I was mad at the end of it, took me far too long to recover after I'd been pulled out of there. I missed my daughter's first steps, her first words. It was a fucking nightmare the likes that only the Sharmat would conceive- no, no Voryn actually tried to get me off so... Look, you don't want to even set foot in Libraryland, let alone whip your dick out and rub one out whilst you're lost there. Unless you're partual to having it morph into one of those tenticle things before your eyes. Unless you're into that kinda thing, I ain't judging.

I am judging...

Anyway that's it um...Why was I talking about this again?

[sweeneydino]

6. No idea if you like the ghosts-haunting-the-wrong-turtle enough to keep running with it, but I think it’s a really funny.

First of all, the ghosts waiting for the nth time— which is n times too many!— to see if Ronin will live (I don’t think he’s making it out of this one, guys…) and reviewing what the welcome wagon will say (We missed you, we’re proud of you, living the longest doesn’t make you the oldest—) when his spirit just goes *pop*. Dead silence, if you will.

And thus begins a mutiversal ghost hunt. (“Hello other dead us-es, have you seen an extra Mikey ghost around?” “No, but have you seen a lost Donny?”) They bop around a few universes until— yep, Mike’s soul is definitely SOMEWHERE in this universe. Wow! Things are weird and dense here.

Mikey: Hello, ghostly apparitions that look worryingly like my brothers! How are we today?

Ghosts: *water bubbling, fire crackling, wind howling*

Mikey: …I see!

(I can’t imagine the ghosts could like… communicate verbally to the living, or it would blow the whole identity issue wide open. They open their mouths and it’s just… ambient sounds related to their death.)

If there were ghosts, I think Splinter would 100% sense them, but initially be unable to tell who/what they are. Are some sewer maintenance workers haunting his house???? (No Michelangelo, he says, while doing the spiritual equivalent of shooing the ghosts away with a broom, I don’t think these things you are seeing are cause for concern, but let me know if it continues.)

The ghosts meanwhile, are in for a bit of a ride.

(‘Daw, it’s good to see Mikey smiling again.

…hey guys, don’t you think Spike’s acting weird for a turtle?

Stop reading into things too much.

…

Shit, Spike’s in the mutagen.

Oh, that’s absolutely Slash, we need to warn Mikey!

…

Well, there he goes…

…

Did Slash, or Titan, whatever, seem familiar to you?

Well sure, that was Slash, we know him, but he’s disappeared now, so I don’t think—

No… I mean, are we sure Mike got reincarnated into a *mutant* turtle body?

…oh shit)

…Do you think that the Ronin brothers meet Tang Shen?

Titan starts seeing his brothers while he’s defending NYC during the Kraang invasion, and just mentally shrugs, because, yeah, figures that he’d start imagining things around now.

And lastly:

Splinter, after everything’s settled and he’s figured out who the ghosts are: So, what can you tell me about the spirits following you?

Titan, who thought he was hallucinating again: the w  h  a  t?

Pictured: Ghost gossip Mikey is not privy to.

Idk how but you managed to get it spot on- lol I'm not sure if I can answer all this without spoiling much .... oh well! I'll give short answers :))

They do go on a little ghostly adventure for their missing brother, mostly when they feel something pull on them when someone we know experiences a rather shattering revelation before being pushed off a building.

The ghosts do actually speak like that :O With how the 2012 universe goes, I thought it'd be nice to have the Ronin boys look/sound a little creepier. Since 2012 is so messed up lmao.

Splinter does, in fact, sense them and can't seem to put a finger on their identity, especially a certain one he feels only when he's meditating.

Truly, I haven't thought much if they could see Tang Shen, but i believe they'd only be able to sense her, really.

And lastly:

Also, love the ghost gossip 💕 I honestly think the little ghost side plot is kind of bittersweet? But I like it :))

[mindless-existence1]

Rottmnt brothers Sick Fics

Im making a new serise! This is where reader take care of their boyfriend while they are sick but make is rottmnt! This will be four chapters starting with Leo!

REQUESTS OPEN PLS SEND! REQUESTS OPEN FOR FLUFF AND KINKTOBER AS WELL!!

Aythors note: Thank you my boo boo bear for making this prompt for me! This is gn reader and Leo and all the brothers are aged up slightly so they are older teens/newly adults.

🍊: Y/n!

🍊: Y/n!

You: MIKEY! Why are you spaming me?

🍊: Leo's sick! And insufferable please come pick him up so we don't have to deal with him anymore 🙏🙏🙏

You: Why does he have to be my problem?????

🍊: Well he's asking for you?

🍊: Plus I'm almost 1000% sure Donnies about to throw him in the sewers for being annoying

You: Fine I'll be there soon

🍊: THANK YOU 🙏🙏!

You set down your phone onto your chest, you were peacefully laying on your bed when Mikey started texting you. With a groan you slowly start to get up and make your way to the lair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time skip~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Guys?" You call through the lair while walking through the living room. Through the ceiling a swirl of blues pops up and drops out your boyfriend. He face plants on the ground and stays up before falling slack.

"Leo!" You rush towards him to help him sit up straight. "Babe! You're here! They're being so mean to me-" He drags out the last syllable of 'me'. Leo sniffles before giving you a hug and putting his face in the crook of your neck.

"Ew gross. I'm happy to see you to but get your sicko self away from me." You lightly push at his shoulders and he's weak enough in his sick state that it effectively gets him off of you.

He let's out a disgruntled whine but let's himself be pushed away. You slowly start to help him up off the floor as Donnie comes out of his lab, most likely to check out all the commotion. "Oh thank Galileo." He says with a please sigh. "Finally he's someone else's problem."

You finally get Leo off the floor and one arm swung over your shoulder, he's basically leaning all of his weight onto you. He seems to be out of it, probably drugged up on too many meds since all the human ones don't work well on him.

You look up towards his brother, "Is he really that bad?" You ask hopeful that the brother is over reacting. Donnie nods his head and and calls out "Good luck!" while walking back into his lab.

You sigh and watch him leave, putting your focus back on Leo when he starts to cough. Once his fit calms down you ask if he's ok. All he let's out his a hum and a sniffle.

"Alright, do you want to stay here or go back to my place?" Leo doesn't raise his head from where it's resting on on you. "You sound like you're trying to pick me up at a bar." He mumbles against your skin.

You laugh slightly and shake your head, "Do you want my help or not?" Your words lack any weight but he still whines at the idea of you leaving. "Your place." The mumble is quiet and you could only hear it since he was close to your ear.

"I'm assuming you can't use your sword right now so we'll have to somehow get to my car." You take a few steps forward but quickly realize holding up the terrapin while walking was extremely difficult. Especially when Leo refuses to take steps.

"I can still use my sword! Just watch." Before you can stop him Leo grabs his sword and makes a portal beneath you. For a second all you hear is a whooshing sound, it fades off as you fall into your apartments living room.

"Leo what the hell." You groan and push yourself off the floor and start to help Leo up as well. "I got us to your house didn't I?" He starts to cough as he says the last word.

"Yeah but you probably gave us both concussions." He groans when he has to stand and open his eyes to see the bright lights of your house. Leo mumbles "headache." So you move to turn them off after laying him down on your couch.

"What medicine have you had?" You ask your half asleep boyfriend. "I don't know, whatever Raph made me take." He speaks into the cushion making every word muffled.

"So I'm assuming I shouldn't give you any, want any tea or soup?" Your voice is soft so you don't hurt Leo's head more than it already is. "Tea would be nice." You give him a kiss on the part of his head that's not planted into the couch.

"I'll be back soon, try to get comfy." He mumbles something into the pillow as he starts to reach around for a blanket. After a few minutes of making Leo's favorite tea you head back to the living room.

You find a very comfortable looking Leo curled up in a hoard of blankets. "I got your tea, you want to watch anything?" You ask while setting his mug infront of him of the coffee table. "Jupiter Jim, I need him to save me." He coughs in-between his words but you understand and put in one of his favorites.

"Can do drama queen." You laugh at his tone. "You know what would really save me?" He asks with a teasing tone. You roll your eyes, already assuming it will be something dramatic. "If you came over and cuddled me."

You walk back towards him while shaking your head. "I don't want to get sick Leo." Your voice is whiney, although cuddling your boyfriend is one of your favorite things. Right now he seems very yucky.

"Please-" He drags out the last syllable time he's out of breath. He gives you puppy dog eyes that melt your heart a little. "Fine-" You hardly get the words out before he's yanking you into his blanket nest.

After getting comfortable and starting the movie you can tell Leo's starting to fall asleep. You are laying on your back against the arm rest of your couch, Leo is laying atop you with his head on your chest and arms wrapped around your waist.

"I love you y/n." His voiced is slurred with sleep and slightly muffled from how he's laying but it doesn't lose sentiment. Your hand that was lightly scratching his shell pauses as you look down at the now past out turtle.

"I love you to Leo." You give him a kiss on the forehead and pause the movie. After getting a bit more comfortable you resume your scratches and start to lull off into sleep.

[super-ion]

Oh, hello! Welcome!

I take it this is your first time out in the deep black?

Oh no, no need to get defensive about it, Everyone has to start somewhere. We get many travelers paying tribute at our little church here. You've got the look of someone who's never been beyond low orbit. I'm guessing one of the third wave colonies?

(It's the implants. Secondwave culture is a bit more uptight about them and you don't look like you're trying to rebel)

You're wondering why we have valuable real estate set aside for a shrine of all things?

You're wondering what sort of god spacers worship?

Do you know what a god is? I'll tell you. A god is an idea given life.

So what's the idea that keeps us flying?

Most folk born planetside might think the god of spaceflight is all fire and noise. Nah. Any moron with enough money and explosives can build a rocket.

No, the idea that keeps us going out here is faith that ask these tiny little pressure vessels will hold together and find their way through the black.

Back in the ancient days, back before thinking machines and all that, the very first leaps off the ground were guided by computers that were hand made. I shit you not, little old ladies hand sewed the memory together.

Huh…? No, I mean like, hard coded read only memory, literal ones and zeros locked into magnets and wire.

That's my point though. Our god began life as the god of seamstresses. She's the god of sewing and weaving. She's older than civilization and she's gone by many names in many cultures.

Yeah, no, of course we don't hand sew our computers, that lasted all of like a decade. Hell, textile work itself went totally automated not long after. Point is she took men into space and brought them home safely. That sorta thing leaves a mark on a god. It changes them.

A ship. A station. A fleet. They're all systems. People and life support and sensors and actuators and control loops. It's all a web, a giant fucking tapestry of connections and she's the master weaver at the center.

But of course the web is massive, and she isn't literally weaving shit. She's all of the maintenance. Corrective and preventive. So it falls on all of us, the pilots, the mechanics, the algae farmers, the sanitation workers, everyone. We're the sewers and weavers. We're the ones patching and mending the tapestry. We're the ones adding to it constantly.

So that's what the shrine is for. That's the religion in out here in the black. Deep space is a bitch, and all we have to count on is the ship and the crew. She reminds us of that.

[yoshi-disney]

This is the third post I've made today, damn being sick and on winter break really makes me realize how much time I have. Anyways, I'm thinking about posting a video essay on Arcane S2 coming soon, mostly around Caitlyn, Vi, Jinx, Vander, and Isha, my 5 favs. Anywhich way here's a section on Vi from a possible video I may or may not make.

I don't think her (Vi) character was ruined in S2 at all because Vi fights for the people she loves, not for any specific place. She may say "You topsiders always find a way to screw us" and wants to help Cait in her pursuit of justice for the undercity, but you never see her actively fighting for Zaun after the debacle with Jinx. Sure in the beginning she fought for Zaun but that's mainly because that's where her family was and she loved what Vander loved, that being the undercity, when her family passed (Powder metaphorically) she fought for Powder in prison. However when she falls in love with Caitlyn, looks at what Silco had done to her once beloved undercity and realizes Powder is "dead" and killed by Jinx, she fights for Caitlyn, thinking she's all she has left, blinded by her hatred for Jinx she couldn't see what remained of Powder was there until it was too late. Then Caitlyn, blinded by grief, abuses and leaves her in a sewer. So, having no one, she fight's for herself in the pit. She still doesn't play along with Zaun's revolutionary ideas because a part of her understood what damages a civil war could bring (seen firsthand on the bridge S1 EP1) and just drinks herself away, until Jinx returns with a hand of friendship. From then on she's fighting for Jinx and Vander, she begins to rejuvenate her love and her bond with this new version of her sister, not Powder, but not exactly Jinx either. Then Caitlyn re enters her life, obviously Vi holds a grudge against her (Calls her unhinged, spits on her face, is willing to let Jinx kill her if Cait doesn't play along) but is willing to help betray Ambessa for a greater good. However when she finally has everything she's wanted, it's stripped from her, again. She soon wakes up after a dreadfull battle against what was once her father and realizes Cait had saved her life, Caitlyn had not only betrayed Ambessa and her entire dictator arc, but nearly gave up her life, and seemingly her sleeping arrangement, all for her. But she's still not yet willing to fight for Cait. And after she, rightfully, cusses out at her she goes directly to her sister, the only person she's still fighting for. Who, similarly but not as drastically as Caitlyn, punches her in the stomach, locks her in a cell says something cryptic, and leaves. At this point, she's been betrayed by everyone she's once loved. Caitlyn had never let go of her anger for Jinx, and had let it fester until she became a dictator, Vander had become an unrecognizable monster, she has no idea where Ekko could possibly be, and Jinx, when asked to help to save the world, locked her away again. She thinks Jinx betrayed her to do horrible things like blow stuff up again (not knowing Jinx was trying to blow HERSELF up). Then Caitlyn comes back and offers her both a physical escape and an emotional one. She reveals that she cleared a path for Vi and Jinx to escape together if they wanted to, knowing Caitlyn would never see Vi again. Caitlyn had thrown her hatred away once and for all for the betterment of herself and Vi, so she could love Vi better and be able to begin forgiving herself. Then Vi begins to fight for not only Caitlyn, but Jinx as well. And at the end, she continues to fight before both of them as she's not one to give up on a sister or anyone for that matter, no matter how much they've given up on themselves FOR THE CAIT HATERS IN THE BACK, GIVEN UP ON THEMSELVES, THEY BOTH FUCKING HATE EACHOTHER AND THEMSELVES, THAT INCLUDES CAIT, I AINT DEFENDING HER OR JINX BUT STOP PRETENDING THEIR BOTH BOTS WITH NO FUCKING REMORCE PLEASE THANK YOU!. and I'm sure, if Christian Linke is to be believed, we'll be seeing alot more of that. You see what I'm getting at, Vi fights for those she loves, regardless of where there from. In S2 mostly, People are People, top or bottom, OIL OR WATER PERHAPS! Anyway's thanks for coming to my ted talk. Let me know if I cooked or if I should kill myself.

[sleepy-crypt1d]

the people have spoken!! (3 people) and now i shall be continuing my rambling about all the implications in COF that simon was a victim of CSA (and that his mom might be dead): an 8am caffeine induced word vomit post brought to you by a guy with over 80 hours in COF <3

under the cut because it's SUPER long.

Trigger Warnings for: talk of abuse, CSA, SA, obsessive behavior, suicide, death, and general COF fucked up-ness.

Not entirely sure on a place to start so I will begin with one of the more obvious places: the enemies.

Each enemy shows us something about Simon, either something overt that is shown to us through other aspects of the game, or things that dig deeper into his mind and point out stuff that we might not notice on a first glance.

For one, the Sewmo, an older male enemy that's bound in chains whose attack is licking the player. There are a handful of possible explanations for what the Sewmos could represent, but for this posts purpose it will be the obvious.

Simon having some sort of deep fear of an older man licking him in some way, a man who is bound in chains and is then released if hit. If defended against, breaks from his bonds and lashes him with a serpentine tongue. The visual of a balding, shirtless man licking Simon as a way of hurting him, of attacking him, is a visceral one that leaves very little in way of nuance to me.

These are an enemy that attacks you in groups and surrounds you in the dark, mainly being in the sewers and hiding in the shadows before stomping toward you. Whether this is a manifestation of someone he knows or simply the fear of older men, I'm not sure.

On top of this, there are also the Children. Enemies in the apartments that are mangled kids in trash bags, which could be read as how Simon sees himself. A child in a body bag that has broken from it's grave, or a way of showing how he feels about his own body, as something deserving of disgust. Something to be thrown away, a sense of revulsion that comes at the idea of one's own skin.

Now, for the most part, the Children enemies seem to be connected to the pedophile in the apartments, who we learn about through notes describing his fantasies surrounding the kids who live in the building. But this doesn't necessarily mean it doesn't have anything to do with Simon, due to the fact that I believe Simon and the apartment predator are connected in some way.

This is where we get very theory heavy- and I won't be surprised if not everyone follows but it's something I'd like to point out. A few things, actually.

For one, the predator in the apartments looks like Simon- if we are assuming the man who gets his head chopped off in the video tape we get from the basement is the predator, which here, I am- just older.

This is where I make the connection that this trauma could stem from his own father or someone he's related to but I know that that link is shaky at best and even I have my own doubts about it (especially since I'm pretty sure we see Simon's dad in game and the models don't look alike), but I figured it was still worth mentioning since the similarities between them are uncanny. The first time I played the game I thought that model was Simon, so the idea that it's the visual of someone related to him still sticks out in my mind as a possibility.

Even stepping away from the 'it was his dad' theory, Simon and the apartment predator are still connected, they still lived in the same building.

There's been a lot of debate on why these notes are in Simon's delusion, why he's seeing them outside of 'oh here's something scary we can put in'. Some people believe that maybe Simon knew about him being in the building, saw his victims or caught him in the act and didn't say anything, and this grew into a deep guilt for not doing so, and when presented with the idea that maybe Simon was a victim of the man in the apartments you usually get the argument that he would have 'aged-out' of his preference but I don't really agree, due to two things, one of which we have proof of and the other I am simply going to need you to believe me about.

The predator canonically lives in the same apartment as Simon after the accident. Simon moves there only after his accident, when he's lost the support of his family and friends and is forced out on his own, meaning he only lives there while in his wheelchair. And the man breaks the elevator in the game. He locks it in the basement, explaining in note #3 that the 'kiddies will just have to take the stairs' leaving Simon locked in his apartment on the third floor. Whether this was a real thing or not, it adds to this feeling of Simon feeling trapped with this man, stuck in place and unable to escape from a predator that haunts his building. There is a fear here, a genuine one, that implies him having been a victim. Either in the past, or now, at the hands of the man in the apartments. He is scared of his man, for one reason or another.

And for evidence of the previous point- he shows up outside Simon's apartment. We see him standing outside his door at one point in the game. At least, I think we do? This is gonna be a stretch and I could very well be wrong here but during my latest run through the game, in the section where you go back to the apartments to get the two fuses and finally go into Simon's roped off apartment- you see him. If you run up the stairs quick enough to the third floor where it's barred off he appears, for a split second, standing outside the apartment. Now, I could be wrong here! It might have been a different enemy that showed up, but I swear it was his model, with the black hair, white over shirt, and blue pants, standing there on the third floor right past the bars. It startled me so much that I paused the game and just sorta, sat there, because I wasn't sure if I actually saw him or not and I'm still not sure since I haven't been able to go back and check. But if I'm right then that's even more of a connection between these two, placing him right outside his door. Further showing us Simon's fear of being trapped, because during this part of the game, the elevator is gone and the entrance is the third floor is blocked off, leaving Simon no escape. He is trapped here, and the man is outside his door. (so small edit, I went back and replayed the game JUST to make sure and uh, yeah, he shows up. If we are to assume that the apartment predator is the model we see get his head cut off then yes, he shows up outside Simon's apartment for a split second during the game when you go back to get the fuses. If anyone wants like, proof of this I can try to get a recording but I PROMISE YOU he is there, adding more to the theory that Simon was assaulted by this man.)

I could also go into how Simon decorates his space as well, how barren his bedroom at his mom's house is, how cold and clinical it feels, as well as him straight up not having a bedroom in his apartment but that may just be a game limitation more than anything else?

Still, the added detail that the only space in Simon's apartment that has nothing in it is his bedroom is something interesting that I've never seen anyone mention. And you can't say it's because you never see it, because you do, you can go in there.

And it's empty.

His bathroom, which we only ever see in a cutscene, is furnished and modeled but his bedroom isn't. A room we physically go into, seeming to suggest that Simon just sleeps on his couch and spends all his time in his living room, which might explain why it's so dirty and disheveled when we see it.

But again, could be a game limitation, so I won't spend a ton of time on it. Instead, I'm going to shift to his relationships with other people. Specifically with Sophie, since I feel she gives a better read of how he sees personal relationships. But first I'll start with Purnell.

We see that Simon is distrusting of his doctor, antagonistic and refusing to open up about his home life. His friends and his school things that he won't touch when in session. Now, depending on which ending you get, changes Simon's opinion of the man. either someone who he apologizes to and praises for his attempt at helping him, or lambastes and curses for being incompetent.

His lack of trust in people, and his inability to feel comfortable around Purnell seems to wrap back around to my point made in the beginning: Simon seems to hold a fear of older men.

This fear could very much be manifesting in Purnell in his delusions, especially with him appearing as this dangerous force you are constantly chasing. And once you do catch up with him, his death is violent, it's personal. Simon stomping in his head with his heel born of a visceral hatred of the man. A desire to cave in his identity, to crush his skull and leave nothing but a bloody mess of the face he's been forced to stare at for hours at a time.

Alongside this is the note from the bowling alley which state "Something is off about Doctor Purnell" pointing towards other patients also feeling uncomfortable about him.

I'm not saying for sure that Purnell hurt Simon in any way, but I will point out here that- if you hit the bars of the gate Purnell is behind in the mental hospital enough times- one of his lines of dialogue is "Don't make me angry, Simon" which leads to an unpleasant visual of what their doctor - patient relationship is like in the real world.

Overall, I'd say that Simon's distrust of his own doctor and the image he paints of him in his delusion points to, if nothing else, Simon's aversion to older men.

Now Sophie is where it gets interesting.

Simon is obsessive, dangerously so, viewing Sophie on a pedestal above everyone else. Seeing her as his 'special person', his everything. He hinges his health and happiness on her, becoming overwhelming obsessed with the idea of them being together, going as far to write his happy ending with them together. His doctors even prohibit her from seeing him under the basis that she is bad for his progress, that she hinders his healing and sends him back into delusion.

In his confession, he corners her on the street, seeking her out and falling to his knees holding onto her desperate for her to listen to him, to hear him out, that if he tries hard enough she'll understand, she'll love him back, that he just needs to explain it better.

He's desperate for her, even going as far as to kill her in ending 2 to 'keep her all for himself', viewing violence as the final romantic act he can attempt. The final confession of his devotion. Seeing violence as love, killing her as the ultimate way to control her. You can never say her name without thinking of him, each thought of her memory now tainted with him, an eternal way to intertwine them.

This shows us how Simon sees love, romance in general, as something devastating. Something bloody and visceral. Something he yearns to have control over. Something he's been taught is violent.

There are a few ways to read this, the possibility of his mother in an abusive marriage and seeing how his father treats her, a possibility that his self-hatred leads to a desire to be together in death- saved from their pain together- or, in this reading, a twisting of his mind from a young age. Something that happened to him that created this view of love as obsessive, as painful, his desire to want to protect her stemming from his own victim-hood.

He's terrified of being alone, of being trapped in a body that he views as disgusting, trapped in a house he feels violated in and cornered by a man outside his door, resulting in a deep obsession with someone who makes it all go away, that makes him feel good. That brightens his day, so when she says no, he doesn't know how to handle it, and it gets twisted in his head that he just needs to convince her. Because if she doesn't love him, who will?

It's also possible that he was never in love with her, only thought he was, confusing platonic feelings and romantic feelings due to them being tangled in his brain. A possible symptom of CSA being a difficulty to distinguished between platonic, familial, and romantic feelings, resulting in a skewed perception of relationships.

His obsession with Sophie is a cry for help that goes unnoticed. He clings to her and destroys her in the process, unsure how to love without hurting someone, as he never has been. His brain desperate for connection, for friendship, but being unable to see friendship without love. Without sex. Unsure how to even grasp a relationship that isn't inherently harmful.

Kids who have gone through something as traumatic as CSA react in different ways, and to me, Simon's view of himself as a disease, his knee jerk reaction to push people away, his dirty bedroom and inability to feel romance without twisting it into something violent reads as someone who went through severe sexual abuse as a child and didn't have the words to put to it.

Wasn't told that what happened to him was bad, wasn't given the space to deal with those emotions or taught ways to heal from it, didn't grasp how much it hurt him until he had hurt someone else and had to see it in their eyes instead of through his own, as someone desperate to feel normal.

-

One last thing I'd like to touch on here- even if it is off topic, I mentioned it in my original post so why not- is the continued hint that Simon's mom is dead. Either leaving him in his father's care, or the reason why he moves into the apartments. This also adds to Simon's fear of abandonment. His sentiment of being lonely his entire life coming to a head with the death of the one person we know truly does love him.

In the apartments, there is the Drowned enemy, a ghostly figure that is suspended as if hanged that directs you to kill yourself if you look at her for too long.

Additionally, a baby bursts from her stomach and begins to stab you if you get too close- and this could be a reference to his mom, an older woman figure with long black hair that haunts you through the entire experience.

Now, I'm not entirely saying that the amount of 'pale ghost with long hair' enemies aren't just, references to The Grudge (since it's implied it's his favorite movie) but I'd like to ignore that in favor of theorizing for a moment.

(Though I am aware of the similarities don't worry. Especially the whole baby thing, if you've seen The Grudge 2 (which he literally has a poster of in his room like a dweeb) then you know exactly what I'm talking about. Weird movie. Go watch it. )

But following the idea that these enemies represent his mom, it gets darker as you venture into the forest sections. Namely, the Hanger enemy type.

The same ghostly women from before, clad in a white nightgown with long black hair that drops down from the trees with a scream and a noose around their neck. These enemies are also in the suicide hallways in endings 1-3, the bloody halls you have to parkour through to get to the sick Simon fight.

They are everywhere as the booming voice in the background screams and roars over itself 'kill yourself' and 'I'm sick'. It's not hard to imagine at all that these are his mother. Either having killed herself from the abuse at the hands of his father or after his accident, leading to him having to move out and find his own place- leaving him with the predator in the building.

Now, I can hear you saying 'but she's texting him? how could she be dead?' and here I would like to posit the idea that his mother acts as a call to the void type character.

A voice urging him to the other side, a gentle sway coaxing the gun to his head. Which could also explain why the Drowned enemies attempt to get you to kill yourself.

Simon taking his own life as a way to reunite with his mother, someone who we see deeply cared about and loved him, a calming voice throughout the runtime of COF that grounds you. Simon's breaking voice calling out for her when he get to his house also implies a disconnect, an empty house with a made bed and dust covered furniture that he weeps at. He's returning to a void. A comforting mirage that once held the things he loved.

His mother is never mentioned in any of the endings, neither is his father, the only hint towards their existence being his mention of how his family abandoned him in ending 2 but still his parents are not mentioned by name. He's alone at the end of this story. Just as he started it.

Overall, Simon is a kid who, no matter how you read the story, has experienced severe trauma all throughout his life. Whether you read it as him having been assaulted, his mother taking her own life, him living under an abusive father or simply being a kid riddled with depression and severe psychosis- he is a wounded mind. Someone who has been fucking through it, and I think there are several things that imply he's been through more than the game lets on.

The Sewmo's violating attack to the visual of children in trash bags and the continued theme of Simon feeling trapped at the hands of a predator are things that linger through the entirety of Cry Of Fear and to me, at the very least, make a very compelling argument for Simon having been a victim of CSA.

-

I hope this wasn't too confusing to follow? I haven't slept and am hopped up on caffeine right now so it might be a little all over the place. I've been working on this for like, two hours? and I think my brain is scrambled.

I'm sure I missed a few details here and there that also point towards this theory and if you have anything you noticed that I didn't, feel free to send me an ask about it! Analyzing this game and digging into the meat of it's story is really interesting to me and I think there are dozens of ways to interpret it's enemies and reoccurring themes. This is just one of them.

Also, this is coming from personal experience, as someone who has been through some shit in his life this is just how I see his trauma and how it could manifest. I understand that not every victim is going to see themselves in Simon or agree with this post or how I phrased things and that's entirely okay, this is simply my lived experience and how my trauma has effected my life.

I had some trouble with articulating some of my points, especially around Sophie, so I'm hoping it's still like, intelligible ya know? Mainly my point with her is that, him being so lonely, and with his view of affection stemming from a place of violation, he has a hard time feeling emotions that are not all consuming. Either extreme anger or extreme devotion, he flips between the two constantly throughout the game. He wants to keep her to himself, have her be completely his, he doesn't have a healthy view of romance and this could VERY likely be because he is a victim of CSA. That shit fucks with you and your perception of what a healthy relationship is.

Point is? get this guy a fucking break.

[mullermilkshake]

Milk for pussy cats

Yakuza!Choso x reader Tags: Yakuza AU, 80’s Japan, fluff, lots and lots of cats, cuteness overload, kittens

When you agreed to go on another date with Choso, he didn’t think that taking you to see the cats he grew up chasing.

Luckily, the majority of them weren’t in the sewer when he eventually found them. Part of him hiding what dingy doings he did just to pass the time.

That and fighting, though he was thankful that you hadn’t seen any more of his battle scars just yet, besides the one across his nose.

Chose assumed you’d run a mile when he came forward honestly with his feelings, that you would take any chance to pull away in disgust. But you didn’t.

In fact, you were far too good for him, watching the world go by and subtly slipping your soft hand into his as the sky grew darker.

There was still much you needed to heal from, losing your ex the way that you did and all that blood. Choso dreaded to think what was rushing around your brain with memories and feeling a that he just couldn’t comprehend or assist with.

But he could give you his love. He hoped that was enough and that you'd receive it with open arms when you were ready.

“It’s just down there.”

You smiled and eyed the direction of his finger. “I’m not usually a surprise type of person you know? I’m too impatient.”

“Almost there,” Choso said, taking you across the street to the nearest convenient store. “We just need something to bring with us, we can’t go empty handed.”

Your eyes widened with curiosity. “I’m guessing you won’t give me any clues?”

Choso let go of your hand and made his way to the back of the store. “I’m hoping this is a hint for you.”

A carton of milk.

"Milk?"

Choso was nervous for a moment. Would you think he was weird, or a guy who just liked to drink a carton of milk in the street? You expression did not say that at all, it was like the cogs in your brain was turning and working it all out.

You didn't give him an answer, just the cutest smile he'd ever seen. "This way, right?"

He nodded and watched you wander down past the store and towards the alley, looking close to the floor and almost tiptoeing along the brick until you were met with a corner.

"I knew it," you were grinning, crouching down before Choso even made it there. "I love cats!"

Choso let the breath he was holding, the cats were a good idea though he had many questions rolling over in his brain on the way over here because he wasn't sure if you were allergic or just hated cats.

What if this date resulted with you in the hospital over night because Choso just wasn't good enough to take you to the posh places and had you rolling about in the street with cat hair that could have hurt you.

To hear you loved them was the best case scenario.

"I'm gad you do, they're all over the city so I bring them milk and food so they don't go hungry." he didn't dare explain the extent of his relationship with these cats, growing up chasing them and giving them a home and miniature village in the sewers out of cardboard boxes.

You turned to look at him, letting one of the cats rub up against your hand absentmindedly. "You take care of them all? That's the nicest thing I think I've ever heard. They get treated so badly here, especially around the clubs and bars, it's nice to hear that someone else feels the same way I do about them."

Pulling out a dish from his pocket, Choso nodded and couldn't think of the words to produce from his lips that would not make him a fumbling idiot.

So he just poured the milk and watched the cats flock over. Ten of them meowing and stretching in the little nook away from the hustle of the street like they always did when Choso found them.

"Oh!" something had caught your attention, "look, that one has babies. They're so cute!"

Choso hadn't realised she'd had her kittens yet, "Let's give her some milk, I haven't seen her for a while, she's probably hungry."

The cat in particular was a veteran with Choso, one of the first of many that he caught with his bare hands as he was growing up. She was a quick one, clever too and loved to sit upon his lap when the nights got too cold down there in the sewer whenever Choso found himself below ground.

Like a proud father, he watched her nurse her babies and rubbed right under her chin for good luck. "Good girl."

"Thanks for this, Choso. This was a nice date."

That was good news, right? It meant you wanted to do something else with him, that was the best sign he could have hoped for.

"With everything that happened last year, I didn't think I would find someone who made me feel safe again, and you changed my mind completely."

You looked at him with such adoration, half lidded eyes with a cat snuggled on your lap. Did he appear to look at you the same way? He was most definitely looking at you like that in his heart.

Feeling safe was something Choso didn't have much to do with growing up, not until he found his brothers and Yuji to fill part of the void he was never given.

Before long, in his own trance, Choso hadn't realised that you were leaning into him and getting closer to his face. He wasn't sure how to approach it. If he turned in, it might throw you off unless you initiated what looked to be a kiss.

He could not run that risk of it not being a kiss, then you would think he was odd and run off never to see him again. So the remained still and waited for the sensation of your soft lips on his cheek.

"Thank you. I hope we can do it again soon."

If Choso had anything to do with it, he'd take you out every night.

[sholiofic]

Whumptober day 7: Unconventional Weapon (Agent Carter)

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | “It’s us or them.”

With a prompt like this, who could I write about other than Peggy? 400 words, probably between-seasons-ish. Also posted on DW.

***

"Oh God, now what," Jack groaned as Peggy slapped a form down on his desk. He took a quick glance. It was the F-2490 form, Destruction of Property. "Peggy, what did you do."

"My job," Peggy said brightly. "Quite successfully, I might add. So I'll just be going--"

"Oh no, get back here for a minute, Agent Carter." Jack picked up the form and scowled warily at the closely placed, neat handwriting. "Two sacks of fertilizer?"

"It was explosive."

"Twelve drain covers, and 'sewer infrastructure,' unspecified."

"Collateral damage from the explosion."

"I'm sure," Jack muttered, reading on. "One dustbin lorry, and I have no idea what that is but I hope it's not too large or expensive--"

"I suppose you'd call it a garbage truck," Peggy said.

So much for that hope. "Explosion again, I presume?"

"No, " Peggy said. "It was-- er, driven into a warehouse."

She had taken up a pose standing at attention in front of his desk with her hands clasped behind her and back straight as if lecturing in front of a schoolteacher. Her eyes sparkled, however. Jack noticed warily that there was plaster dust incompletely brushed off her hair and clothes.

"I ... see. And I also see the next item is ... one warehouse." He looked up. Peggy was gazing above his shoulder at the wall. "You knocked down a warehouse with a garbage truck?"

"Oh, no, of course not," Peggy said. "That is, not entirely. The lorry came off very much the worse for wear."

"So what did it for the warehouse? Oh. 'One construction crane, fallen' -- Carter --"

She was now looking at the ceiling. Her lips twitched before she said with studied calm, "The warehouse came off the worse for wear in that encounter."

"I'm sure it did," Jack said, also very calm. "'One barge, carrying a load of' -- Carter, did you sink a barge--"

"It was at dock, and some of the warehouse fell on it."

Jack laid down the page. "I don't think I need to read any more of this right now. At least tell me you have the suspect in custody."

"We wrapped up the entire ring," Peggy said brightly. "I'll just be off to write my report now."

"Oh -- well, that's good, seeing as how I have to justify this to New York's taxpayers." His eyes drifted to the page again. "The barge drifted into the -- bridge -- Carter!"

The door slammed behind her in a hasty exit.

[pedroshotwifey]

Joel Fucking Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (Can be pictured as either HBO or Video Game version)

Word Count: 8.1k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, Smut with a lil garnish of angst, kinda mean Joel, Borderline Dark!Joel, but consent is given at a point, one singular spank, rough piv sex, exhibition kink, slight humiliation/degradation, possessive behavior, enemies to lovers-ish?, reader is a menace but we love her, spit kink, anal play, this is pure filth and I'm not sorry

Summary: You and Joel Miller have been sworn enemies from the very start, both of you at each other’s other's throats since the first glance. What he can't know is that you have been harboring a stubborn crush on him this whole time---It’s not until he has you up against a wall that you realize he feels the same way.

A/N: Now that I have all of my one-shots posted, I'm going to start posting my ongoing stories as well as some new works. I'm almost finished with the Frankie Sex Pollen fic so that will be posted sometime this week. I will also be working on creating both a masterlist and a recommendation list, so hopefully that should be done soon too. Thanks for reading!

***

Today has been a shitty fucking day—no pun intended. 

Not to say every day isn’t shitty here in the QZ, but this one really takes the cake. To start your fabulous day, you woke up an hour late, making you one of the last people in line to pick up jobs. When you got to the assigning station, you found that you had been left with two options for the week: janitorial service at one of the mess halls, and sewer duty—where you literally have to shovel shit. The only card left for the mess hall was an all-day shift. You took them both.

That's why you find yourself here now, below the city, finishing up sewer duty, covered head to toe in stench and sweat even though it’s the middle of winter. You’re pretty sure you are the last one down here; it’s been a while since you saw or heard anyone else. You aren’t surprised. You’re used to being the only one who cares enough to actually finish whatever job you were tasked with that day, no matter how repulsive it may be. 

You don't take pride in much, but you are willing to admit that you admire that quality about yourself. You are a damn hard worker and you aren’t afraid to show it. You have no idea where it stems from, maybe your stubbornness, or possibly your inner perfectionist. Whatever it is, you find yourself often wishing that more people would have the same mindset. God knows it would make your life easier at the very least. In the time you have spent in the Boston QZ, you have only had the pleasure—or maybe you should say displeasure—of meeting one other like-minded person. 

You became acquainted with Joel Miller within the first day of being in the QZ, which was about three years ago now. The first glance you got of him was as you were being hauled through the gates, lucky enough to have not been shot on the spot when a couple of FEDRA officers caught you hiding out in the woods. Your eyes met his before they met anyone else's, and he’d held your gaze, his expression anything but welcome, as if he were trying to evaluate you with one look. 

By the looks of it, he had to be at least a couple of decades older than you, but that didn’t stop the heat that started to simmer between your legs at the first glance you got of him. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you took it as a challenge and forced yourself to keep your gaze on him until he was completely out of sight. You knew what you were doing, and so did he, both of you deciding on the spot that you would be enemies until one of you either died or left. 

Sure, you knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to piss people off before you made any allies, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. From the first second you saw that man, you knew that one way or the other—one of them being a heated feeling you chose to ignore—he would be trouble. As per usual, you were right. If you didn't know any better, you would have said that he was dead-set on following you around, bumping into you at almost every job you took. At first, you had been convinced that he had been doing just that.

 The first couple of times it happened you considered it some stupid coincidence, some twisted kind of unluckiness. Granted, it wasn't every time, but it was more often than not, and that was more than enough for you. By the fifth or sixth time out of ten, you waited until the very end of the shift, until it was only Joel and yourself left working. You kept a close eye on him, and as soon as he started wrapping up, you cornered him. That had been the first time that you had ever actually spoken to each other instead of tossing nasty glances back and forth. 

You had immediately gone to work with your rushed interrogation, demanding him to tell you why he was following you, to tell you what his problem was. The most frustrating part of the whole ordeal was the way he had sat back, leaning on one leg with his arms crossed, his expression bored as he waited for you to finish. He said nothing until he was positive that you had nothing more to say. 

“I ain't followin’ you, kid,'' he had said, his voice deep and more pleasant than you would have liked it to be. His tone was hard, as you had expected it would be, but the tangy southern drawl and depth of his voice took you off guard, an unwelcome heat suddenly forming between your legs—which only pissed you off more. 

The stone-cold look in his too-pretty eyes only worsened the feeling, and suddenly you found that you weren't able to speak; you didn't even know what you had come up to say at this point.  “Don’t fuckin’ bother me again,” he muttered and pushed past you before you could realize you had been staring.

***

“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all day?” A much too familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Speak of the fucking devil. 

“Just finishing up, Miller,” you spit, not bothering to look in his direction. You can hear him start to walk up to you but you ignore it, opting instead to actually finish what you had been doing. It only takes a few more seconds, and by that time, you can practically feel Joel staring a hole into your back, no more than a few feet behind you now. 

He doesn't move, so you continue to ignore him and start walking to the ladder so you can get out of this literal shit hole. You only make it a few steps before you realize that he is moving with you, following at the same distance he had stopped at before. Your jaw ticks as you spin around on your heel, so suddenly that Joel almost knocks into you.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you ask him as sweetly as you can manage, the fire in your eyes contradicting your tone. His own eyes narrow as he takes a step back, crossing his arms in his usual fashion. 

“Maybe you should learn how to help yourself first before you go offerin’ it to other people, princess.” He says the name as an insult, and you have to bare your teeth to keep your composure. 

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, old man?” You ask him, taking a step toward him. He doesn't back away this time, instead taking a step toward you in reciprocation. The two of you lock gazes and stare at each other for what could have been ten seconds or ten days before Joel breaks the trance and shoves past you instead of answering. 

You just stand there and let him climb the ladder to the street above you. You can see right through him, the asshole wants a reaction, and you're not going to grant him that satisfaction—not this time anyway. 

You wait for a few minutes until you can be sure that he's long gone before you grit your teeth and turn on your heel, walking to the ladder and hoisting yourself up. As you reach the surface you catch a whiff of yourself and scrunch your nose. You need a fucking shower.

***

The next day, you wake up in a sour mood, already dreading today's job—janitorial services. At least it's not scooping shit this time. You’re the first one there, as per usual. The hall is a mess after breakfast and you take a deep breath as you think about the fact that even after you scrub it spotless, it will be trashed again by the end of lunch and then again after dinner.

To top it all off, it's ridiculously cold in the room, the fire lit in the back of it not doing much to increase the temperature. You look down at your white cotton t-shirt under your flannel and find yourself wishing you had put a thicker undershirt on.

There aren't many people working with you on the first shift, only the usual other three this morning, not that you're complaining of course, it just means fewer people to get in your way. You keep your eyes to yourself most of the time, only looking at someone if they address you to ask for help or to comment on something. Before you know it, lunch has come and gone and you are preparing for dinner. 

You notice halfway through that time that your friend is working the second shift, and she approaches you so you can work together for the rest of the time, though she only has the after-lunch shift. Rachel is a hard worker for the most part, though she likes to slack off a lot, but you appreciate the help while you have it. The two of you gossip and joke quietly until it's time for her to leave and time for you to sit back and wait for the dinner crowd to flood in.

***

It feels like a week has passed by the time the last person clears out after dinner, and you breathe a sigh of relief—you’re so close to getting back to your apartment and into your welcoming bed. You immediately get to work on sweeping up the trash that collected underneath the tables, eager to get out of here. 

There are only two other people working with you this shift, which is weird because FEDRA usually has at least four people on each job, but you brush it off. They seemed to know each other and they blab amongst themselves as they work. At least the couple seemed like they were in the same mindset when it came to getting this job done, so you didn’t mind the fact that you are missing a crew member. 

Halfway through your sweeping, you hear the door slam open, startling you and the couple that is now busy with taking leftover dishes into the kitchen. The chill that sweeps through the large room makes you assume it was just a gust of wind, probably blowing snow into the doorway. 

Great, something else to clean, you think as you huff an annoyed breath. 

When you turn to face the sound though, you find yourself wishing that the problem had been snow, but of course, when did anything ever go your way? The supposed gust of wind is actually Joel fucking Miller.

Your mood immediately sours and you have to fight not to roll your eyes as you watch him slink into the room and follow the couple into the kitchen. You hear the girl inform him that he was late—as if he didn’t know, or care for that matter. He only grunts in response. You don’t bother to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. If Joel sees it, he doesn't say anything. 

***

An hour later, Joel hasn’t bothered you, much to your relief. The only time you have to look up from your work is when the couple from earlier bids you farewell before they walk out the door. There is nothing left to do but scrub the tables, which you are doing now. 

You only have two to go, and then you’re free for the rest of the night. Now that you're the only one left, the room is almost eerily silent, the only sound being the drip of water as you dip your sponge into the bucket and wring it out. After the table you are working on is thoroughly cleaned, you move on to the last one. It sits right next to the busted window, and you shiver as you walk past it. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” The baritone voice sounding from behind you just about causes you to jump out of your skin, the bucket of water in your grasp suddenly spilling over your front. Of course, it was a huge fucking bucket, so it was enough water to coat almost your entire body. 

The white t-shirt you have on under your thick flannel is soaked through so that it’s practically transparent. Dropping the now empty tub to the floor with a loud clang, you swivel on your heel to face Joel, who is leaning against the wall to his right, arms crossed.

 If he sees the fire in your eyes, he ignores it as he smirks at you, obviously humored by your reaction—and likely by the fact that he can see your bra. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, every expletive or reprimand that comes to mind doesn’t seem to cover what you want to say. 

As you stand there soaked in dirty, soapy water, you find that you can do nothing but stare. Your gaze is stuck on the man still standing in front of you, not a twinge of empathy in his own, which he has trained on you in return. You have no idea how long the two of you stay rooted to the same spots, staring each other down, but it must have been at least a few minutes because you can feel your body start to involuntarily shiver as your drenched form begins to freeze. 

Of fucking course you had to have been standing right next to the broken, half-assed boarded-up window, and not by the fire that still rages into the chimney on the other side of the room. 

The cool air sweeping in seems to trap you in its frigid grasp, threatening to turn the grayish liquid that covers you into ice. You can't help it as you finally move, bringing your arms up to cross over your chest in a feeble attempt to warm your rapidly cooling body and cover your exposed undergarment. You flinch as your arm presses the freezing fabric closer to your skin.

The action seems to break the invisible spell that had set over the two of you because Joel takes that as his queue to take a step back off the wall and lift his chin. The movement makes him look bigger and you have to lift your own to look into his eyes again. You can only hope he sees the fury that burns on your own. If looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor right now. 

“You’re fucking joking,” you are the first to break the silence. The quiver in your voice would be embarrassing if not for the fact that it was placed there out of anger. The asshole who put it there must know it too because you can see the way he swallows as if trying to rid himself of his guilt, though if that’s what he is feeling, he doesn’t show it any other way. 

You can expect that the action will be the only sign of such a thing—if Joel Miller doesn't want to feel a certain way, he doesn’t, simple as that. You have never once met a man more rude, nor stubborn as the one currently in front of you.  

“Didn’t realize I was bein’ funny,” he says, straight-faced with that stupid southern drawl that you have come to despise. You don’t reply as you continue to stare daggers at him, and you can't tell what’s making you shake more at this point—the layer of fucking ice about to coat your body, or the unmatched rage that brews in your mind.

 Right now, you would place your bets on the rage, considering it’s actually starting to warm you up. The sight of Joel, arms crossed to mimic your own, still staring down at you like he's some fucking god, only fuels the feeling. Sighing quietly, your eyes shut as you try to calm yourself down before you say something you would really regret. It only takes a few seconds until you speak again, which might not have been long enough, truthfully speaking. 

“That was pretty fucking shitty, even for you, Miller.” You manage to get the sentence out through gritted teeth, but it sounds strained. Anyone would agree that it sounds like you are trying your best to contain yourself, though it’s obviously a task you are struggling with. He says nothing, and his body gives nothing away, so you speak again. He knew exactly what was going to happen if he snuck up on you like that, and he probably didn’t even give it a second thought.

“I mean really, how fucking immature can you be? You really thought scaring me while I was holding a tub of dirty water was the best way to get my attention?” Your mouth starts to let words out before you can even think about what threatens to escape, and there is nothing you can really do but allow it to happen. 

Your lips are moving far too quickly for your brain to comprehend at this point, your anger completely taking over. As hard as it can be to hold yourself back from an argument sometimes, you always managed—but this was the last fucking straw. 

“And why the fuck are you even here? You obviously don’t have anything left to do.” Your voice is quickly raising but you doubt you could do anything about that even if you wanted to right now. Of course, it doesn’t matter how loud you get, you could probably scream right in his face, it never seems to affect him.

“Seemed lonely,” he says simply, shrugging and shifting off of the wall. He looks at your bewildered expression and decides it would somehow make it better if he elaborated, though you both know that he only does it to dig further under your skin. 

“Never got anyone around, s’ all. Too fuckin’ stubborn n’ self-absorbed to make any friends.” His tone is condescending and nonchalant at the same time, like he is both stating a fact and trying to beat you down. You continue to stare at him as he finishes. This is a whole new level, one you wouldn’t even have assumed Joel would ever jump to. 

You’ll admit it, he’s managed to find one of your most delicate insecurities, and he knows it, too.  Even before the outbreak, you always had trouble making friends, your anxiety and general mistrust always got in the way. Every time you thought you were getting close to someone, you would push them away. It was your biggest fear, being betrayed by someone close to you—a worse fear, you decided, than being alone. 

To this day, you have only ever let one person really get to know you. When you met Rachel during your first week in the QZ, she showed you a sort of open kindness that let you know she was a good one. You knew then, and you know now, that she would never do anything to hurt you in any way. 

In the time that you've gotten to know her, she’s become the best friend you’ve ever had, and the only one you wanted. But she is only one person after all, and she can’t spend all of her time with you, so you find yourself on your own most of the time—and of course, Joel Miller, of all people, would pick up on it. 

“You are such an asshole, Joel,” you spew out after a moment. “And you have the audacity to call me lonely?” You can't help the tears that start to blur your vision, so you ignore them as you continue to rant, your hands now flying wildly. The pit of insecurity in your stomach is starting to grow to the point where you feel like it will swallow you whole. 

“You act like you’re so much fucking better than me! Who do you have?” Through your watering eyes, you can see the way Joel flinches slightly, and as much as it pleases you that you seem to have finally found a soft spot, it also eggs you on. You recognize it and think to yourself that he's a fucking idiot for pointing out the fact that you don’t have anyone in your corner when he has the same exact problem. 

“Huh? You say I'm alone, and maybe I am, but I’ve never seen you with anybody.” Your vision starts to clear as you feel hot tears begin to streak down your already-soaked cheeks, allowing you to see the deep scowl set on Joel's face. It almost scares you how mad he looks, but it's too late to back down now. 

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but it never comes. His silence only encourages you, and you know you probably seem immature as you continue to insult him, but it gets pushed to the back of your mind as you quickly realize it’s the least of your worries right now. Your tears are streaming freely at this point, your breaking point finally has been reached. The words are coming out faster than you care to stop them. 

“You have no fucking friends, Joel,” you spit out. That one definitely struck a nerve, and you watch as he takes a step towards you, his face giving you a warning expression as if he already knows what you are going to say next. You know his history, and you know it's a bad idea, you know it is, but you say it anyway.

“You have no friends…” You pause, your brain subconsciously trying to talk you out of what you’re about to do. Of course, you don't listen. “...and you have no fucking famil-” you get cut off as Joels hand makes contact with your throat, his grip crushing your windpipe as he pushes you back until you hit the wall and lifts you onto your toes so you are looking into his rage-filled eyes.

He says nothing for a moment as he lets you struggle in his firm grasp, watching you writhe and try to gulp in air. The panic that courses through your body is almost paralyzing, sending a hot flash throughout your entire body as your brain catches up with what's happening. 

You find yourself panicking even more when you realize that fear isn’t the only thing your senses seem to be overwhelmed with as his hand tightens around your neck. The wetness beginning to gather in your panties is suddenly the biggest problem you are faced with, an unwelcome feeling or arousal suddenly making itself known. 

Everything seems to be happening in slow motion as you feel your hands start to claw at the one wrapped around your neck, no doubt leaving raised scratch marks across his wrist. The man doesn't wince or falter though, as you struggle to try to pry his hand away. You can feel your mouth opening and closing, though you’re unsure of what you are trying to say. You suspect it's something along the lines of “Please”, but no sound comes out. 

Eventually, after you realize that nothing is going to come from your struggle, you let your body fall limp, the only movement left is the tears that still crawl tauntingly down your cheeks. Though some of them may still be from the anger that had overcome you before you felt his large palm on your throat, most of them are now evidence of your shame. 

Logically, you reason that there is no way for him to know what kind of response his aggressive actions pulled from you, but you can't help but feel like somehow, he can see right through you. 

Upon seeing you submit, Joel lifts you more until you are close enough to feel his hot breath fan across your face. He loosens his grip enough so that you are allowed to catch a breath, but not enough for you to fall away from him. He starts to lower his arm, letting your feet hit the ground, but he leans his body down with your own so that his face stays less than an inch away from your own the entire time. 

You know that realistically, he only had you in the air for a few seconds, but it felt like an hour with the fear—and unexpected lust—that was coursing through your veins. Though you are still trembling with the silent threat he delivered, you seem to be able to calm down a little as his hand loosens and slides around to the back of your neck, only holding you in place. 

You stare into his eyes because you have nowhere else to look, and are almost surprised to see the array of emotions on display. You see anger, impatience, annoyance, a hint of restraint, but the one that seems to dominate them all is the one that takes you aback the most. You see in his eyes, what must be a reflection of your own. 

Your mouth drops open again as you begin to place the look of longing and desire that burns in Joel's gaze as he stares you down, his mouth just centimeters from your own. You take a chance and allow yourself to look down at the way his lips almost brush yours, his own mouth parted as you both try to calm your ragged breathing. 

You have no idea why you suddenly feel this way—well, you do, you just refuse to admit it. You hate his fucking guts because he is the only man that has made you feel something since before the outbreak. Every time you look at him, it is evidence that you are still capable of letting your guard down, that you are still weak. 

You promised yourself the first time you understood what the potential problem with Joel Miller could be, that you wouldn’t allow it to become one. But this god-damned man makes it so fucking hard to keep that in check when he is staring at you like he wants to ruin you. 

You feel his hand tighten around you again, and you snap your eyes back up to his, suddenly blushing as you realize that you have been staring at his lips for far too long. For once, you are at a loss for words, you have no idea what to say that might save your ass from looking like you had been doing exactly what you had. Thankfully, you don't have to wonder for long because Joel cuts right back to the chase, seemingly shaking himself out of his own thoughts as he speaks again. 

“You want to try that again, little girl?” Fuck. How the fuck are you supposed to ignore the pit forming in your stomach when he says shit like that? You are too caught up in thinking of a response to answer him immediately, and he clearly doesn’t appreciate that as he shifts his position, pushing you back further into the wall behind you. 

When he moves, you realize that one of his legs is slotted between your own, and your eyes widen as you feel how close his thigh is to your center—one little movement and you will give yourself away. You must be dripping at this point, and if he's not close enough to feel the heat coming off your cunt from where he stands right now, he will be if he moves any closer. 

Steeling yourself, you opt not to speak as you bring your hands back up to grasp at his wrist again. Joel watches as you struggle to get a grip before he growls and uses his free hand to grab both of yours and place them on the wall above your head. Your eyes somehow widen even more and you want to shrivel up into a ball as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

You need to move now. You can't let this man see what he does to you, the way your body reacts to the way he so easily dominates you. You know that you have no time to plan anything out, so you do the first thing that comes to mind—you try to tug your hands out of his grip and you lunge to the side. 

You’re not sure why you even attempt it, you know that it won't get you anywhere, but you do it anyway. Of course, he overpowers you once again, and nothing changes but his grip, both of his hands tightening as he leans in even closer to you. The new position causes his thigh to crush into your throbbing clit, and before you can stop it, a whimper breaks through your lips.

Nothing is said for a moment as you stare at Joel with shame, and him at you with a newfound amusement. You can feel yourself melting on the spot, and you let your head hang in humiliation, your eyes trained on the ground next to Joel, who is now smirking as he stares back at you. You feel his thigh crush into you again, deliberately this time, and you have to bite your lip and close your eyes in concentration so as to not give away any more sounds. 

You hear Joel chuckle darkly above you, and the sound goes straight to your pussy. How are you supposed to resist this man when he sounds like that, when the rough denim of his jeans is rubbing you in all the right places as he begins to rock his thigh back and forth, making you bite your lip even harder. The hand on your neck suddenly releases its grip and you feel his thumb come to your mouth, tugging your bottom lip until it falls away from the punishing bite of your teeth. 

“C’mon now, princess,” you hear Joel speak again and you can't help but moan softly as he sets his hand on your hip, starting to guide you across his firm thigh. 

“You’ve given yourself away now, you ain’t gonna get outta this one.” His tone is taunting as he presses down on your hip, bringing you down harder against him. 

The pressure on your clit is almost overwhelming with pleasure, and you find yourself moving on your own, beginning to chase the orgasm that has suddenly come within your grasp. You can’t help it with the way your wet jeans rub you just right and the firmness of his thigh is just enough to push the seam of them onto all the right places.

“F-fuck you, Miller,” you say, opening your eyes and bringing your head back up to look into his eyes, hoping the anger is apparent in yours. He stares at you for a moment before he speaks again. 

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he moves his hand down to where your cunt meets his thigh, and places his thumb right on your clit, rubbing quick circles. The touch is all you need to send you over the edge, becoming a moaning mess under Joel’s body. He’s right of course, you want him to fucking ruin you. God, you hate it when he’s right. 

He continues the circles on your clit as you come down from your high, riding you through it. When you are finally able to catch your breath, you look him in the eye to find him staring right back at you. His gaze is intense and full of want. 

“You want me to quit, darlin?” You can tell by the way he says it, that he asks genuinely. He would stop if you said the word. As much as you want to hate him, you know that he is respectful enough that he wouldn’t do anything to that effect without your consent.

Joel may be an asshole, but he would never put his hands on a woman in that sense if she showed any sign of resistance. Though he didn’t seem to have a problem with wrapping his palm around your throat. 

“I can give you more, all you have to do is ask,” Joel says after you don't answer him. His gaze is hungry as he waits for your consent, his eyes slowly tracing up and down your body, taking you in. When he looks back to your face, you nod slowly, watching as his already blown-out pupils seem to take over his irises. 

“I'm gonna need to hear you say it, darlin,” he says as he brings his chin up to the side of your head, nibbling your earlobe and making you shiver. 

“P-please, Joel,” you say, giving up the act. You know you want him, he knows you want him, and now you know he wants you, too. 

“I need you, please.” At your signal, he doesn't wait any longer as he starts to pull you away from the wall, his free hand traveling back to the back of your neck, the other still grasping your wrists. Before you can figure out where he’s moving you to, your chest slams onto one of the tables, the force almost enough to knock the wind out of you. You had expected him to be rough, but not this rough… not that you mind. He’s clearly done with being gentle with you now that he has free reign.

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, throwing him a look over your shoulder as much as you can with your neck still being pinned down. 

“You fucking mind?” You hear Joel chuckle behind you and feel him step closer to you, pressing himself against your ass and leaning over so that his chest is flush with your back. 

“Nope, not at all.” His breath tickles your ear as he whispers into it. 

“Now I'd be quiet if I were you, girl,” he tells you, his tone almost threatening. “Unless you want to wake the whole town, of course, cause now that I’ve started, I ain't gonna stop.” Your eyes widen and a whimper falls from your lips as he finishes his threat and pushes his top half off of you. 

“Maybe you’d like that, huh, little girl?” he pauses his sentence to rip your pants and panties down in one fluid motion, making you cry out.

“Let the whole town watch me fuck you, show everyone who you belong to, who this cunt belongs to.” He knows you too fucking well, knows that you’re thinking about it now, salivating over the thought of someone walking in on you like this, your pants around your ankles, him, balls deep inside of you, taking what he wants. 

“Dirty little girl, out here whorin’ herself out to me so quick. Slut’s just damn desperate for some good fuckin’ cock.”

You hear a sharp zip from somewhere behind you and you struggle out of instinct, pushing up on the hand holding you down. He ignores your protest and slams himself into you, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, giving you no warm-up or time to adjust. 

You expected him to be big, but you weren't expecting this. He's fucking huge, stretching you out and reaching depths you didn't even know existed. You scream out at the sudden burning intrusion and Joel moves the hand that isn't on your neck to your mouth, silencing you halfway through the outburst. 

The tears that fall from your eyes catch on the palm of his hand as he brings his cock almost all the way out before slamming himself back in, setting a brutal pace. 

“Tha’s alright baby, Ima take good care of you,” Joel assures you through gritted teeth. “Make you feel real good creamin’ all over my fat cock.”

Your fingernails scrape the surface of the table once he releases your hands, scrambling for purchase as Joel slams into you without remorse. You’re almost surprised at how quickly you feel the knot in your stomach start to build back up, the pain promptly turning to pleasure as Joel brutally shoves his cock into your already-sore pussy. 

The sounds of Joel's grunts, your muffled sobs, and the squelching of your cunt quickly fill the room, you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so cock-drunk on Joel. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is the way the head of his dick slams into your G-spot with every harsh thrust. 

The way his dick drags against your walls makes you clench with every swift pass. That combined with the way his hips slap against your ass might just be the best thing you’ve ever felt. 

Your body begins to go slack, your stomach and chest pressing harder into the table, you barely even register Joel's hand being removed from your mouth until you hear your unfiltered moans break through. 

“Jus’ wait one second, darlin,” Joel's voice is strained as he talks. You try to nod back at him but find that it's a bit hard when your bones have melted. His pace never falters as he reaches down to where he pulled his pants down just enough to free his thick cock and heavy balls. 

When his hand finds the open buckle of his belt, he tugs it through the loops and uses the edge of the table to fold it once before bringing it to your lips, pushing it toward you until you bite down on it. 

He tells you something, by his tone it sounded like a command, but you can’t seem to make out the request.  If you weren’t drooling before, you certainly are now with the taste of leather on your tongue. Joel smirks to himself as your moans quiet down with the help of the belt. 

“There ya go, such a good girl holdin’ on t’ that for me,” he runs his fingers through your hair as you keen at his praise. He can feel your cunt tighten around him as your second orgasm approaches once again and he has to steel himself so as not to come right then and there like some teenager. Instead, he brings his hand down to touch your clit again, not with his thumb, but with his middle three fingers, rubbing up and down, immediately setting a furious pace. 

The new sensation combined with the pistoning of his hips pushes you over the edge and you have to bite down on the belt so you don't scream as you receive the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. It's like nothing you’ve ever felt before, the white-hot pleasure almost blinding you, and the force of it almost pushing him out of your cunt. 

You sob as you listen to Joel talk you through it, telling you how good you're doing for him, how you were made for him to stuff his cock into. His pace never falters as you gush around him, but he does push himself further into you so as to not be forced out of you. 

The strength of his thrust is enough to surge you forward, the table screeching on the concrete floor below you as it too is moved forward slightly. After you come down completely from your high, he grasps your hands and tugs them behind your back for leverage, fucking down into you to chase his own pleasure. 

“Goddamn, darlin, tight, young, little cunt, squeezin’ the fuckin’ life outta me.” His dirty words are almost humiliating as he throws them out, but you love every moment of it, the way you clench around his cock giving you away quickly. 

“Oh, you like that, little slut?” he almost sounds surprised as he continues rambling. 

“Filthy little thing, lettin’ some old man stuff his cock into your sweet little pussy. ‘F you didn’t take dick so good I would think you’d be a damn virgin.” You whine beneath him as much as you can with the leather between your teeth, a shameless request for him to keep talking. 

“Yeah, you like that, huh, little girl?” He grants your wish, spewing more filthy comments every few thrusts. “Like bein’ told what a f-fuckin’ whore you are f’ me?” You keep, drooling on the belt trapped between your teeth.

Suddenly, you feel the large hand that was pinning your neck disappear, only to reappear on your ass, making your eyes widen as Joel quickly slides to your other hole, his thumb right above the tight ring of muscle. 

Usually, you would want to struggle, but for some reason, the thought of Joel taking you there is something you find yourself wanting. He feels you squeeze around him again and he chuckles at your desperation. 

“Now, you’re just full of surprises, ain't ya, princess?” He says, his voice even more strangled than it was before. It almost sounds like it should be painful for him to talk. He stops talking for a moment to allow his saliva to drip down and slide down your ass crack. 

“You’d let me fuck you here, wouldn't you, little girl?” Fuck this man, you both know the answer to that. 

“Put my dick in this pretty little ass?” When you don't object, you feel him spit on top of his thumb again before pushing it into you. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl as he slides his thumb into you until he can’t anymore. The intrusion triggers your third orgasm, your body melting into the table as you press back into him. It’s less intense than the first two, but you are still fully consumed by the waves of pleasure that wash over you.

If you had been standing, you would have fallen to your knees. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the feeling almost overwhelming as he leans on top of you again, continuing to whisper filth into your ear. You can tell he’s getting close by the way he lets go of your wrists and tangles his fingers into your hair, slamming himself somehow even deeper inside of you.  

“Tell me who these fuckin’ holes belong to, princess,” he spews out through gritted teeth, pulling the belt away from your mouth and throwing it somewhere off to the side. 

“Who makes you feel good, makes these little holes feel good?” When you don't answer immediately, your unleashed moans and whimpers making it almost impossible, he uses the hand that’s not fingering your ass to deliver a sharp slap to your left cheek. 

“Fuck, fuck Joel it’s you,” you practically sob as you tell him what he wants to hear, what you want him to hear. 

“T-these holes are yours Joel, you make them feel so good, they belong to you, all yours,” you cry out frantically. Satisfied with your response, he rubs over the red spot on your skin before returning his hand to your neck. 

“That's right,” he praises you softly and you soak up every word. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, knowin’ who she belongs to.” He thrusts into you half a dozen more times before his pace finally starts to falter. 

“W-where do you want me, sweet thing?” As he asks you, all you can think is “fuck this man for being respectful with shit like that.”  If he hadn’t asked, you probably would have shoved him away, but instead, you make another stupid decision—why the fuck not at this point? 

“I-inside, Joel, inside me, oh my god, fucking c-come inside me,” you’re only slightly aware of how desperate you sound as you beg for his cum, but again, you can’t seem to find it in you to care. You let your cheek rest on the cool surface of the table and close your eyes, too exhausted to hold yourself up any longer. 

You hear Joel groan and start to say something above you, but he cuts himself off as he releases inside you with a strangled moan, almost like he is biting down on his lip so as not to shout. 

A stream of curses laced with your name spills from his lips as he twitches and pulses inside you. The feeling of his hot cum spilling into you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It seems like forever before he stills, practically collapsing on top of you, his cum dripping around his softening cock and down your thighs. 

Despite his weight on top of you, you think you could probably manage to fall asleep there. Your body has never felt so spent and tired, every muscle sore in one way or another. Joel waits only a minute before lifting himself off of you, and you attempt to lift your head to follow his movement, only for your cheek to be gently pressed back onto the table by his palm. 

“Jus' hold on a second, princess.” His tone is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it makes your heart warm, but you can't resist the perfect opportunity to tease him as it presents itself. 

“You’re happier after you get your dick wet,” you say with a small smile as you follow his request, letting your eyes close as you bask in the feeling of euphoria that’s taken over your body. 

At your snippy comment, you expect him to scold you, or maybe to swat your behind, which is still presented for him. What you don’t expect is to feel his tongue on your spent cunt. Your body jolts and your eyes snap open at the unexpected feeling, your reflexes causing you to try to sit up again, only to be pushed down by Joel’s hand on your lower back. 

“I said to wait a second, darlin’,” he says as he pulls away from you, his tone more stern now. He waits until you nod your head to return to your pussy, dipping into your hole and lapping up your mixed release. You shudder as his tongue grazes your overstimulated clit, but do your best to hold still for him. 

After he seems to have gotten his fill, you feel him pull away again and stand up to lean over you. His hand suddenly grabs your chin, making you twist your neck slightly so that you are looking up at him. He keeps his mouth shut as he brings it to his own before squeezing your cheeks, making you open your lips, and drops his jaw open. 

You gasp as you feel the combination of his spit and your cum mixed with his own slowly spill onto your tongue. He keeps his eyes open and locked onto yours as he keeps your lips together and lets the liquid drip into your mouth. When he pulls away, he replaces his lips with his hand, forcing your mouth shut. 

“Swallow,” he commands. You obey without a second thought and let the substance slip down your throat. He smiles when he's sure you’re done and moves his hand, motioning for you to open up. You do, and he smirks as he sees every drop gone. 

“Good girl,” he mutters as he lays back down on top of you, and you let your body rest on the table again, enjoying the feel of his body on top of yours. As the two of you stay there, catching your breath, you feel Joel's chest start to vibrate against your back in silent laughter. You furrow your brows and attempt to stand and roll him off you, but only succeed in the latter, your legs failing as if they were made of jello. 

Joel stands back and tucks himself back into his jeans as you slump back down on the table, temporarily accepting defeat. You see him take a seat in the chair next to you out of the corner of your eye, his chest still rattling the slightest bit. 

“What the fuck do you find so funny, bastard?” You slur your words, your tone is a lot less fierce than you had wanted it to be. He looks at you before answering, and you feel your both heart and your cunt clench at the almost adoring look in his eyes as he meets your gaze. Maybe the asshole will try to be decent for a moment, his expression promising. 

“Looks like your gonna have t’ scrub this table again, princess,” he says, his tone toeing the line of playful. You feel your lips tug up into a smile as you recognize the fact that this is probably Joel being friendly. Or at the very least, he’s not at your throat at the moment—in a bad way anyway—so you’ll take it. Upon seeing your smile, he sits back further and allows himself a small smile of his own as he continues to watch you sink into the polished wood beneath you.

“Fuck you, Miller,” you say. You erupt into a quiet yet delirious fit of exhausted giggles, Joel following soon after with his own gentle chuckle. 

“Might have t’ give me a second for that, princess.”

*****

Pt. 2 here

[sellensand]

The truth about the Golden Lineage

Ok sooo I've just had a MASSIVE realization about Godfrey's children with Marika and I need to share it with the Elden Ring lore community. I have no idea if anyone has already put this theory forward, but as soon as it crossed my mind I knew I had to write it down before I forgot about it.

ELDEN RING SPOILERS BELOW.

I had always kind of assumed that Godwyn the Golden was Godfrey and Marika's firstborn child. This is not stated anywhere though, it was no more than an assumption on my behalf. So I began to wonder... what if the omen twins were actually older than Godwyn? What if they were Marika's first children with Godfrey? The Crucible predates the Golden Age of the Erdtree after all...

Once again, I had always assumed that Morgott and Mohg were thrown into the sewers of Leyndell as soon as they were born, which doesn't really make any sense considering:

- They are both quite well-spoken. They don't act like they were brought up by giant slugs and rats with no contact with the outside world. They are not like the feral omens we fight in the sewers.

- They had to use special shackles in order to keep them down there. As if... they would try to escape. To go back home. Someone had to make sure they never got out.

- They brought at least one doll with them. Newborn babies don't play with dolls, children do.

- Godfrey's words towards Morgott ("It's been a long while...") and the way he holds his son's dead body imply they once knew each other. They once had some kind of relationship. And I'm inclined to believe that Morgott remembers and loves his father too: as SmoughTown points out in his latest video, the magic seal from which Godfrey's golden ghost appears is the exact same Crucible seal that Morgott uses when he "teleports". Morgott created a spectral protector of the Erdtree in the image of his father (I'm about to cry).

So, if Mo & Mo once lived in the surface, why were they shunned? Well, here comes the crazy part. Once upon a time, in the Age of the Crucible, horns, scales, wings and other beastly parts were considered sacred, divine. They were the manifestation of the power of the Tree, from which all life begins, where all life is blended together. With Godfrey being a man from the Age of the Crucible (his knights are the Crucible Knights), it is possible that his first children with Marika, Mo & Mo, were actually revered when they were born.

However, at some point, something motivated Marika to change the dogma. The conquest of the Mountaintops of the Giants gave way to the Golden Age of the Erdtree. All things Crucible were suddenly frown upon. Lord Godfrey and his warriors were exiled from the Lands Between. And the omen twins had to be forsaken.

LUCKILY the royal couple had produced another child, one more in line with the religious ideals of the new age: Godwyn, a perfectly built golden boy, without any Crucible in him. A strikingly handsome prince, with a gorgeous set of long, androginous, golden hair, who we've only seen wearing a beautifully embroidered skirt. His looks and his fashion sense always reminded me of a certain red-headed champion of the Golden Age of the Erdtree...

Has anyone else noticed that the items related to the Prince of Death require both Faith and Intelligence? I'm talking about the Prince of Death's Staff (allegedly made out of a fragment of Godwyn's corpse) and all of the Death sorceries (which said staff boosts). You know which other items also require both of those stats, right? Well, as far as I know, only Rykard's Magma sorceries and the Golden Order incantations need both Fai and Int to be used. And the Sword of Night and Flame, yes, a Carian heirloom hidden in their Manor.

HUH. I wonder what the Carian royal family and Golden Order Fundamentalism have in common... OH, I KNOW. They are both connected to Radagon, the champion who aspired to be complete by dominating both sorceries and incantations.

My point is... What if Godwyn is not Godfrey's? What if he's Radagon's? What if he was Marika's first attempt at having descendants by herself? She was devastated by Godwyn's death because he was her favorite, her perfect golden boy, a personification of the Golden Order and a living proof that she was the One True God.

Now let's have some fun with this theory. We all know about Miquella's obsession with Godwyn ("O brother, lord brother..."). Some have speculated that the statue of the older figure embracing young Miquella and Malenia in Loretta's arena in the Haligtree might be Godwyn, because it doesn't sport Marika/Radagon's signature braid and the asset is apparently flat-chested (according to Vaati's Miquella Lore video).

Did either Miquella or Godwyn know the truth? Was Godwyn particularly protective of the Empyrean twins because they were more than just his half-siblings? I honestly don't know, buy it's not hard to imagine what they felt after their older brother's murder...

I obviously don't have all the answers, but if all of the above was true, it would mean that the whole Golden Lineage is built on a lie, because the firstborn male heir of Godfrey was not only not the firstborn at all, but he was also not Godfrey's! This would be so GRRM it's insane! Even Godrick's pride and his fondness of Lion iconography becomes all the more ridiculous!

Am I going too far with this? Please let me know if I'm losing my mind over this game.

(Oh and link me to any similar theories if you know of any, because I can't be the only one crazy enough to have thought about this).

[literatecowboy]

The King With No Name

9. Come Together

Fic Masterlist

Summary: König - the king of Caldera - has been called upon by your father to choose a bride from his daughters in order to establish an alliance to keep peace over the lands they rule. When he arrives, he is enraptured by you, your father’s eldest child - an unconventional woman by all standards. He pursues your hand in marriage, doing his best to make you fall in love with him like he has fallen in love with you - much to your dismay Author's Notes: I'm a little sad to say that I think this is the end of this fic! I like to think that I've wrapped everything up quite nicely and written an ending I'm happy with. I'd be happy to elaborate on anything if you guys would like, don't be afraid to ask!! It has been more than a pleasure writing this and as my second ever fic, I'm delighted to find that people like what I'm writing and got invested in the story. It has been more than a treat to hear your kind words. If anyone has ideas for another fic they'd like to see, don't be afraid to send them to me! Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, death, violence, magic/charms/love spell, fluff

-----

After the sun finished its journey across the sky and dipped into the ocean, you headed for the entrance to the catacombs with Koing by your side. Before you could crawl inside he pulled you close and lifted his mask, kissing you gently under the moonlight. You held tightly to him until he let go, gently patting you on the rear and holding aside the vines that covered the entrance. 

“Be safe, mein maus. Should you encounter any trouble, you need only shout and I will come to your side,” he promised, holding your bow as you got on all fours and crawled through the gap in the rocks. Once you were inside, you blew him a kiss and he handed you your bow. The vines fell back into place and you lit your torch, heading deep into the great hill the castle sat upon. 

You’d traversed these passageways countless times when you were a child and the dust and cobwebs that coated every surface reassured your belief that you were the only ones who knew about this section of the castle. 

The catacombs were the remains of an earlier castle that yours was built upon, and their hallways intersected with a natural cave system that had served your ancestors well. Several of them were buried down here, and you did your best not to disturb them as you climbed through collapsed walls to reach the entrance to the sewer system. 

The sewers took you throughout the castle and you did your best to stay out of sight as you scurried toward the dungeon. 

The room was quiet. Peering up through a grate you noted that there were fewer guards on watch than there typically were. Many of the initial cells were full of your father’s men - no doubt those who had spoken out against Ferdinand when he seized power. 

You crept further under the cells, poking your head up under grates to examine who was in each. At the last one, a more private cell with a solid wooden door, your breath hitched in your throat. 

“Sadie! Lydia! Henry!” you whispered, gripping the bars that went over the floor grate and pushing your face up as far as you could into the room. Lydia gasped and was startled from where she lay sleeping on a cot, racing to your side and taking your hand. Henry looked up from where he was lying, smiling weakly at you and raising a bloody, bandaged hand in greeting.

“What are you doing here? Have you come to help?” she whispered. This caught Sadie’s attention and she too raced over. When she caught sight of you, tears started to flow freely down her cheeks. 

“I have. Are you alright?” you asked, watching as Henry struggled to sit. 

“It’s Ferdinand. After you were gone, he went mad. He challenged father for the throne and father couldn’t refuse. He locked all of us up and when Henry tried to stop him, he nearly killed him,” Sadie said, sniffling as tears dripped down her cheeks. There was a heavy knock at the door then and Sadie and Lydia bolted up. You sank back into the darkness of the sewers, doing your best to hide yourself as the door swung open. 

“Oh, Marcus, you scared us!” Sadie exclaimed, rising to her feet and throwing herself into the arms of the guard as he entered and shut the door. Lydia looked down at you and gestured for you to come back. 

“It’s okay, Marcus is on our side,” she whispered. As you approached the grate again, the guard’s eyes widened. 

“You’re here! Does that mean–”

“Shh! I’m here to help. Marcus, do you have keys to the cells here?” you asked. When he nodded, you grinned and undid the latch to the grate that led to the sewers, popping it open and climbing up into the room. 

“Great. Unlock them all, I’ll need all of the loyal men I can muster.”

—

Not long later, you stood at the main door to the dungeon, facing the newly-rearmed men who’d sworn themselves to you and your cause. Sadie had volunteered to wait in the cell to watch over the injured Henry, and Marcus had refused to leave her side so that he could defend her if the need arose. Lydia stood at your side, borrowed bow in hand. 

“If what you all have said is still true, my mother and father are likely being kept in their bedroom on the upper floor. I’ll go looking for Ferdinand. If I encounter any trouble, I’ll yell - that’s the signal for all of you to come out of hiding and start fighting. My husband is waiting outside the walls with reinforcements should we need them. For now, get into position and wait,” you urged, quietly opening the double doors to the dungeon and leading the war party upstairs and into the servant’s hallways.

They were deserted - all of the servants had received a warning from a messenger to hunker down and prepare to defend themselves should the need arise. You broke off from your group and slipped across the main corridor and toward the great hall where the throne room was. 

When you entered, Ferdinand sat alone. When his eyes fell upon you he stood up quickly and came towards you, his arms out. 

“Oh, my love, I thought that brute had killed you, but you have returned to me!” he said excitedly. You dodged his hug and drew your sword, brandishing it at him. 

“Challenged an infirm man to a fight? Nearly killed your best friend and left him to rot? Imprisoned my sisters and countless good men to cells? Started wars and invaded my lands? And yet you dare call me your love? Who in the hell do you think you are?” you snarled. He stepped back in surprise, raising his hands. 

“Only for you, my dear. When I kill that beast who stole you from me you’ll become mine, and we can live happily. You can forget him now, return to where you belong - by my side!” he exclaimed. 

“I was wrong about König. He’s fair, he’s gentle, and he loves me. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, unlike you. So I guess I was wrong about you too,” you spat, taking a step forward, the blade inches away from Ferdinand’s chest.

“You…don’t love me?” he asked, his brow furrowing as his hands lowered. 

“You hurt my family and you put my people in danger, you’re insane!” you shrieked. 

“It…didn’t work,” Ferdinand breathed, his face hardening. He lunged, but instead of grabbing you, grabbed the charm tied to the quiver of arrows at your side - the hunting charm he’d given you the day you had met König. In the process, he knocked your bow off of your hip and it fell to the ground, cracking into pieces. 

“How could it not have worked?” he snarled, holding the little silver thing up to the light and beginning to pace. 

“Wait, what are you talking about?” you snapped, utterly confused but still just as angry, unable to mourn the loss of your beloved bow as you stayed focused on him.

“The love charm! This was supposed to make you love me unconditionally!” he shouted, throwing the charm to the ground. 

“True love! Pure love! It was supposed to make us come together!” he shrieked, kicking the thing away. Your face paled. 

“You tried to curse me. Tried to use magic to make me love you. You didn’t change at all, no. You were insane from the start,” you said incredulously, your heart starting to race faster. 

Ferdinand lunged for you but you were ready. You reached out your sword and he fell upon it, impaling himself clear through the gut and falling to the ground. You stood over him as he choked and gasped for air, looking up at you with wide eyes. 

“Why couldn’t you love me?” he gurgled, a tear slipping down his cheek. You put your boot on his chest and yanked your sword out. 

“You didn’t trust me to realize that I did on my own.”

—

König stepped from the darkness once Ferdinand drew his last breath, walking over to the charm that had fallen to the ground and picking it up gingerly. He examined it for a moment as you watched him, nervous. 

“Such a little thing, just like you, maus,” he said quietly. You sighed and sat down on one of the steps that led to the raised platform the throne was on, burying your head in your arms and starting to sob. 

König noticed in an instant and came over, embracing you and holding your head to his chest gently. 

“Oh, maus, why are you crying? It is okay, the conflict is over. We are safe,” he said softly, gently stroking your hair. 

“The charm did work, König. On us,” you wailed, sobbing and clutching tightly to him as you cried. König pulled away gently and taking the charm in both of his hands, broke it into pieces. You gasped as he tossed them away, pulled up his hood, and kissed you. 

“I need no magic to love you, maus.”

“König?”

“What is it, maus?”

“I love you too, König.”

—

Several Weeks Later

You practically fell into your bedroom after König, laughing as he pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead. A beautiful new golden crown was perched on your head, and he gently removed it and set it on the dresser before he lifted you and tossed you onto the bed. 

“My Königin, you look so beautiful in that dress, but I think that I would like to take it off of you,” he said, smiling as he crawled on top of you and pulled his hood off. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him as he kissed your neck. 

“Oh, are you planning to conquer the new queen already? How shall I defend myself?” you gasped, pretending to swoon which sent you both into fits of laughter. 

“I was planning on more of a ravishing. You seemed to appreciate the things I did to you in the river the other night,” he teased, tugging at your bodice and trying to free your breasts. 

“You’re a beast,” you giggled, pushing him away and sitting up to untie your dress in the back, fumbling with the strings. 

“You like me like that,” König murmured, nibbling on your ear as he helped you undo the ties, peeling the dress off of you once it was loosened. 

“God, yes,” you gasped as his mouth found your nipple and his hands worked at his shirt. You fumbled with his belt, pulling his cock free and pumping it, making him groan and try to get out of his clothes even faster. 

Once you were both undressed, König pushed you back further onto the bed and climbed up after you, his lips meeting yours as you crawled into his lap and pushed him down. You straddled him, continuing to pump his cock as he moaned into the kiss.

He took hold of your hips and turned you around without any effort, dragging you backward and only stopping once he had you sitting on his face. You moaned as he pushed his tongue inside of you, his bottom lip catching on your clit and making you shiver with pleasure. 

You leaned down and took his cock into your mouth, moaning around it before sinking your head and sucking. He moaned and the vibrations sent shockwaves through your body, sending heat to your cheeks as you licked the tip of his cock teasingly. 

König grunted as he lapped at your clit, slowly pushing two fingers into you and pumping them in and out at the rapid pace he knew you loved. You felt your stomach tightening already and you moaned around his cock, using your fist to pump the length that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

“Oh, my love,” he gasped, his hips bucking up to meet the warmth of your mouth and you pushed down further, trying to take as much of him in as you could. He added a third finger and you practically screamed as pleasure coursed through your body and you came, spasming, your eyes rolling back into your head. 

König eagerly lapped up your cum, his nose, lips, and chin glistening as you looked back at him with wide eyes. 

“Please, love, I need your cock,” you whimpered. König somehow seemed to grow even harder at your words and he picked you up, manhandling you underneath him and entering you with one swift thrust. 

You moaned in tandem, both of your heads falling back as he set a rapid pace. You dug your nails into his back in the way he loved so much and he hissed, his hips slapping harder against yours. The bed shook and the headboard slammed against the wall and you smacked his ass, laughing as he growled and went red and leaned down to bite your breast, leaving a trail of marks up to your neck in retaliation. 

“Fuck, maus, you’re so tight,” he groaned, reaching down and teasing at your clit with his index finger. You moaned, your back arching involuntarily as you bucked your hips against him. 

“I love you!” you cried, your eyes fluttering shut as you came again without warning, clenching tightly around him and making him groan. 

König kept fucking you as you came, his thrusts growing sloppy and erratic as he listened to the sweet little noises he was pulling from you and felt you tighten around him. 

“I love - love you too!” he exclaimed, slamming his hips into yours and shuddering as he filled you, a mixture of your arousal and his cum dripping down your thighs and soaking the sheets. 

You pulled him down and kissed him as he pulled out of you and then laid there, catching your breath together. Eventually, König got up and fetched a damp cloth from the bathroom, cooing over you as he cleaned you both, pressing kisses all over your face and stroking your hair. As he was about to settle back down beside you, something struck him. 

“Ah, maus, I nearly forgot. I have a gift for your coronation,” he said, tugging his boxers back on and heading for his wardrobe. You were in the process of putting your panties back on and looked up, surprised. 

“Oh, Köni, you didn’t have to get me anything. The joining of our kingdoms today was enough,” you said with a smile, sitting back down on the bed as he brought a long box over to you. As the lid fell open, your jaw dropped. 

“If you will let me, I will bring you gifts for as long as I live,” he said proudly.

In the box sat your once broken bow, masterfully repaired and adorned with beautiful vine carvings. 

“Oh, my love, this is…exquisite,” you gasped, reaching out and gingerly picking up the bow, feeling the familiar weight in your hands. 

“You were missing it at your side. I never want you to miss anything again,” he said, sitting beside you and wrapping his arms around you, leaning his head on your shoulder. You set the bow back down carefully and kissed him gently, the crackling of the fire and the gentle rain outside serving as the soundtrack for your love. 

As you fell back into bed with König and fell asleep in his arms, you knew you’d be happy for the rest of your life.

-----

taglist: @0mint-chocolate0, @elowynnlane, @littlelovebug98, @saturnknows, @passdaweedgaara, @lexuria, @numnuts, @nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105, @acynicalcat, @poohkie90, @glitterypirateduck, @babyspice6, @hazelnutbitch, @rilamon, @p1nkliquor, @zeennnnnnn, @tengens4th--wife

[thisbarbiereallylikesbirds]

Aly do u prefer yoshi + splinter being the same character or separate? could u rank the yoshis/splinters from your least favorite to most favorite? thank u!

Good question!!

Personally, I prefer it when they're the same character, it's just more interesting in my opinion. Now, that's not to say that Splinters that start out as a rat can't have cool backstories (I actually really like 03 Splinter's), but I always find myself more intrigued if they used to be human. It really allows the writers to dig into what it would be like for someone to suddenly not be human anymore. Plus the idea of a guy getting turned into a rat and then turning around and being like "I guess the only course of action is to raise four turtles in the sewers" is really funny to me. It definitely takes a specific person for that to be their first course of action.

And, of course, if he was human first that means he probably had a close relationship with Tang Shen. I wrote an entire essay on why she's such an interesting character to me so I won't get into that here, but getting to hear about her from a primary (and often biased) source is really fun. I love characters that haunt the narrative.

Now I've only ever seen Rise, 03, and MM/Tales in full. I've seen a few episodes of 2012 but 87, the comics, and all other iterations aren't gonna be included since I don't know enough about them.

Rise Splinter. What can I say. I made the Nameless Trio just to put this idiot and his friends in situations and watch how they react. His past with the Hamato Clan, the whole Lou Jitsu era, and the Battle Nexus era are all super interesting to me, plus I love reading and writing little fics where this man who had no intention of ever even interacting with a child suddenly has to raise four of them. While he's not always the best father (or the best person if we're being so real) it's clear that he loves his kids.

03 Splinter. This guy is just...the sweetest I can't even. In my opinion he's the best dad out of all the Splinters (at least the ones I've seen). I mean he literally used to be a rat, and yet is a good father even by human standards (it's my personal head canon that he had a rat family before at some point so he does have practice raising kids, but still). I love how Yoshi would just bring him literally everywhere, I love how much he cares. He's just great.

2012 Splinter. Now I know some people really hate this guy, and like I said early I haven't seen the whole series. However. This man has a cheese phone and runs on a wheel. He committed to the bit and I have to respect that. Plus, his whole backstory with Karai and Shen is super interesting to me. And in my opinion Splinter and Shredder being brothers is an elite choice. The obvious favoritism of his children isn't great, but I can appreciate a complex character.

Mutant Mayhem/Tales Splinter. I'm gonna be so honest I don't know if we've really seen enough of this guy for me to have a super concrete opinion on him. In my review of TOTTMNT I did talk about how annoying it was to have him just speak vermin, and I do still stand by that. That being said, I don't hate him. It's obvious that he cares about his kids and wants the best for him. I've seen some theories that maybe he was lying about his past and used to be Hamato Yoshi. Personally I don't buy it, but due to my personal preferences I do kinda hope that's the case lol.

This ended up being a lot longer than i thought it would be!! I hope you enjoyed me rambling about the old rat man.

Thanks for the ask!!

[eclipsedrgn]

They're Monsters!

Pair: Bayverse!Donnie x reader

Summary: The Turtles infiltrated Police Headquarters and get caught. One police officer insulted them and that's not going by (Y/N) that easily.

Being Donnie's girlfriend, the Turtles figured you'd be calm and collected like him. But in reality, your like Raph in a tiny, human body. So when times like this happens, they have no idea what kind of (Y/n) they're gonna get.

"Are you freaking kidding me?!" You hissed at Donnie as you go around from your hiding spot, Mikey running the other way to tell Raph what he heard.

You knew the Turtles were starting to struggle not being accepted, especially since they're growing up and hatred being stuck in the sewers.

Raph was getting more hotheaded as ever around his brothers, Mikey was starting to get annoying, though the orher two brothers were calmer you can still tell they wanna be above ground.

Leo and Donnie looked at you, Leo sighs "We can explain"

"No, no. Its the lying for me" You said. "Leo, your gonna lose their trust. Especially Raph's"

"They don't need to know every decision I make-"

"But a big change like this?" You sighs. "Forget it, forget I said anything"

You walked away towards the homemade pizza box couch and collapsed. Sighing, you take out your phone and scrolled through Instagram.

Leo was practicing his katas when Raph came out of his gym, he walked slowly towards the leader, ready to let out steam.

"Pop quiz" Raph says jumping onto the platform. "What are the three most important traits of a ninja?"

Leo gave him a small grin as he continues his kata, "Speed. Stealth-"

"And honour. Where's the honour in keeping secrets from your brothers?" Raph accused.

"I don't know what your talking about?"

"Oh now your adding lying on the list" Raph accused.

You walk over to the two, pushing them apart by their plastrons. "Enough"

"But-"

You raised a finger as Raph silence, a clear annoyed look on his face.

"This isn't fair Leonardo. Lying to your brothers about a life changing event. What is with you?" You sternly spoke.

If you two are referring to what Donnie told me about the purple ooze, it's called compartmentalization of information," Leo replies closing up on Raph's face.

"If there's even a chance that ooze can make us human-"

"We're turtles, whether you like it or not," Leo says in aggravation.

"It's not about what I like, it's about what people up there are willing to accept!" Raph gestures to outside.

"True acceptance only comes from within," Leo recites.

"Don't give me that fortune cookie muck" Raph glares.

You backed from the two, shaking your head as you turned and walked away. Donnie rushes after you, worried about your reacting to all of this.

"You have to believe me when I say this isn't the outcome I wanted" Donnie said.

You shake your head, "Why didn't you tell me, or consult me? Why Leo?"

"I... I get guess I got too excited" he sighs. "This is something I thought everyone would want. To be normal and living above grouns. You know? To be a normal couple"

"Honey" you coo, reaching out for his hand. "I'm so sorry"

"It's fine-"

"It's not. Donnie, you should have told me this is how you felt. I should've took it into consideration. I shouldn't have gotten mad" you said.

"I'm sorry, I-" his device on left wrist beeped, Donnie paused to take a look and gave you a sincere look. "I'm sorry honey, there's a break in-"

"Say no more" you smiled. "Go be a hero"

"Leo. Leo, an alarm just tripped at the Hayden Planetarium. We have to get uptown" Donnie reports rushing towards the blue and red clad.

"Gear up, Donnie" Leo commands. "You two stay here"

"You're benching me?" Raph yells out as the two left.

"What did I do?!" Mikey asks.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Raph had a plan. He had a plan to infiltrate the Police Headquarters with Mikey to get the last of the ooze they got in custody. He called April and Casey down to the lair with a plan in mind, the problem is how to get (Y/n) into the plan without getting much trouble.

He approaches you slowly, as you sat at Donnie's surveillance room watching as your boyfriend and the leader in blue arrive at the museum.

"Hey (Y/n), do you have a minute?" Raph asked.

You turned the chair around, "Sure. What's up Raph?"

"I know Leo and I got into an argument about the ooze-"

"Let me guess you wanna go into police headquarters to find it and use it for yourself?" You said crossing your arms.

"I-I wouldn't say it like that" Raph replied shyly.

"The blue prints are printed. Do not tell Donnie" you said with a smirk. "I'll be reckon. Watch from the outside"

"Thanks" Raph sighs and turns to walk away, but paused. "Why are you helping me?"

"I... I guess I never considered how Donnie really felt. He never told me about his desire to be normal and when he did... I guess I wanna make it up to him" you said.

"You're a good girlfriend (Y/n). Don't forget it" he smiles.

(Y/n) gathered the blue prints and pens, as the rest gathered around the dinner table. April and Casey arrived and sat next to each other, (Y/n) sat next to Mikey who dug into the pizza.

Raph clears his throat as everyone looked up at him, "We need to break into Police Headquarters"

A pause.

A really long, awkward pause.

"So, you want us to break into Police Headquarters?" April repeats.

"Uh, yeah" Raph states obviously. "Donnie said he needs more of the purple ooze to track Bebop and Rocksteady. And you said the cops would've logged it into their evidence control room by now"

"Okay, and Leo is good with this plan?" April questions skeptically.

(Y/n) clears her throat. "Actually, Raph is in charge of this one. Right Mikes?"

"U-Uh right" Mikey says unsure.

Raph places the blueprint down the table. "So, we can take the elevator shafts and vents. We need you three to stay on the ground-"

"Whoa I can't just walk into Police Headquarters" Casey refused.

"What are you? Chicken?" Raph teased.

"Hey!" Casey stood, closing up to Raph. "Who are you calling chicken, turtle?"

(Y/n) chuckles, her temper rising carefully. She reaches out pulling Casey down back his seat. "Listen, do you want to get Beebop and Rocksteady or not?"

Another pause, Casey says. "So we're breaking into Police Headquarters"

"We got one last boondoggle. We need to find someone to sneak you guys in past security checkpoint" Raph says looking at Mikey is disgust as the youngest turtle made a pizza sandwich with pizza. "Only plan I got so far may be a tad less appetizing"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

After convincing Vern to break into the police, everyone got to their spot. (Y/n) sat across the headquarters, looking through the binoculars. Her heart jump out of her chest as she sees the two mutant turtles breakthrough the ceiling. She tossed the binoculars and rushed into the headquarters, seconds before Leo and Donnie arrive.

"Raph, what're you doing with that?" Leo accuses.

"Honey?!" Donnie exclaims seeing his lover.

"Freeze! Don't move! Don't move!" An officer shouts, gun pointed.

Raph's eyes widen repeating, "No, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Freeze right there!"

"Don't move! We'll shoot!"

Raph and Mikey looked at each other as they slowly kneel, (Y/n) rushes towards the two as the officer raises his gun shooting. Pain filled (Y/n)'s right shoulder as she places herself in front of the youngest turtle.

"Don't shoot them" (Y/n) pleads, she winces her shoulder bleeds out.

"Move girl!" An officer shouts.

"No!" (Y/n) shouts. "You don't understand!-"

BANG!

(Y/n) didn't know how quickly it happened. A shot was fired and she placed her body between Raph and Mikey, no matter how small she still blocked them. She felt a huge pain on her chest, she struggled to breathe, she barely registered her body hitting the ground as the four yell out for her.

She saw the color purple as her eyes dropped close.

[inkdragonworks]

June Update

Breaking the chain of not updating to talk about what I've been working on. As the absence of Poppin & Jupa here can tell, I switched projects back in April, to an older one I worked on for about 8 months in 2022. Main reason was feeling dejected a bit after the animation didn't do as well as I was expecting; been getting the impression that Tiera is more popular than them with folks lol.

Again I won't be cancelling it, or never working on PnJ, just switching focus so I can stay productive and make something that feels fun for me, which this has.

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As a refresher, here's the game I've been picking at:

The game's current design can be broken down into:

intro sequence to introduce Tiera and the setting

initial puzzle + encounter to introduce the main mechanics

large hub in the form of Fragaria Park where you avoid the main threat, collect items, interact with side attractions, and access the 4 side areas

4 side areas, which have their own puzzles/challenges within with a primary goal at the end that progresses you towards the final escape

optional collectibles Since April I've worked on a part of the large hub, 3 of the 4 side areas, and the optional collectibles.

"Who works on optional stuff before the main game is done" well they play off of the main mechanics but mainly it's an excuse to draw something cute instead of programming.

These are Anna Banana and The Fruit Friends (Also Strawberry), characters from a cartoon show that Tiera likes (Except Strawberry).

They don't play any significant role/impact in the game (Besides Strawberry), but they reveal part of Tiera's interests, they form a small bit of the world's background, they make for fun type of collectible that gives something to do besides the main puzzles, and, again, I just felt like drawing cute shit.

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For the hub, I worked on a themed side area dedicated to a playground. This does have puzzle elements in it, but a lot of it are silly interactions, and a reference to that cartoon I did a while back. Maybe you can recognize it here.

It's one of those "makes the setting feel more realized/fleshed out" deals.

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For the side areas, what I've mainly been doing is settling on their exact design, blocking out the areas, and working on their puzzle sequence, obstacles, and any single screens that are tied to it.

Here's what I mean by "single screen":

Something that cuts away from the main game to it's own puzzle. This one here is for the performance theater. All graphics are placeholders just to get the logic in and see if it might work.

Making these type of puzzles is fun cause it reminds me the most of Resident Evil 1 and various flash adventure games I've played.

As for obstacles, a significant one I'm playing with for the theater is darkness, making use of Tiera's sonar to detect a safe path around deep pits.

She won't fall off right away, but it's tied to the same stamina system.

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Another side area are the sewers, everyone's favorite video game setting. That obviously involves water, but the trickiest thing about it has been dealing with really complicated patterns of depth changing.

What that means is Tiera climbing up and falling down a lot, and trying to keep track of that. Here's what that looks like without proper graphics:

I'm very happy with how the area is turning out so far though, it's something you'd get to later and I think the puzzles do a good job of reflecting that progression.

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The last side area I've poked at was the final sequence of the game. I've had a lot of different ideas of how to go about it but I think I'm happy with the set of them I have planned, something that builds up towards the climax and building off of what was set up in the rest of the game.

I wanna be careful about spoiling it, but here's one effect from it I've started work on:

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I'm trying not to overshare here, though there's a lot more I've thrown into my server that I couldn't here. One of the side areas I haven't gotten to really pinning down is the Hedge Maze. I have a basic outline, but the main obstacle involved requires more dynamic logic. It's hard to settle on what that logic should be without set level design, and it's hard to settle on level design without knowing the limitations of that logic.

It's a similar issue with the main challenge of the game, both for the player and for designing: the ghosts.

What's intimidating is the feeling that they need to be very deliberate in this type of game, to balance between adding tension without veering into frustration. I'm hoping tackling everything surrounding them will make me more confident, but odds are I'll have to start with something simple and half-broken just to break the ice. And accepting I'll have to make something that gets thrown away, which I'm not used to doing... I really prefer thinking through stuff first before making it.

Anyway, thank you for reading.