#thirst iv bag

[kelly6ridge]

I got vitamin gummies for the first time ever in a last ditch attempt to take my vitamins more regularly (read "at all") and now am facing the opposite problem.

they are *delicious*

i want devour all the bottles at once. kinda pissed i dismissed them for so long for people who couldn't swallow

anyways I'm typing this to avoid the intrusive thoughts saying eat all the gummies. and like getting iron poisoning or something

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 6.2k

content: very juicy chapter. is all im gonnna say.

notes: i cant stay mad at my otps i fear

PART IV — better yet, she wouldn’t care 

“If I have to hear one more handjob joke, I’m gonna lose it. So please tell me you have good news.” 

Lee Fletcher’s dark blue eyes flitted up to yours, his lashes tickling just under his eyebrow when he did. His hands were fiddling with the bandage that wrapped around your hand, but they slowed when you spoke, “Bare with me, newbie.”

You sighed deeply, fighting the urge to fall back onto the cot that you were sitting on — you’d had the stupid bandage wrapped around your hand and wrist for what felt like eternity, but was really only five days. You should be thankful, really, since the last time you’d broken your wrist you’d been walking around with a thick blue cast on for a month, but you couldn’t help but be a little peeved. Capture the flag was today, and you hadn’t trained nearly as much as the others had due to your injury — when you probably should’ve been training twice as much, only because you were new and unfamiliar with the game. 

It was their fault for hyping it up; if they had just shut up about it, you wouldn’t have been as excited about taking part, broken wrist or not. But alas, demigods were barbarians — barbarians who thirsted to beat each other up in a controlled battle. Barbarians who didn’t have any regard for the new camper when they were climbing all over each other to see the freshly posted team setup, and trampled all over their perfectly good wrist. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been standing right in front of the notice board.” Luke had been saying all week. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to accompany you there, then.” You replied every time. 

Lee narrowed his gaze, flipping your hand around carefully in his, kneading at curtain parts of your skin while checking you for reactions. When you showcased nothing but annoyance at your own shit luck, he leaned back with a cheeky smile, “Well, it’s looking good. I don’t think you need this anymore.” 

He lifted up the knot of bandage he’d removed from your hand and threw it with perfect precision into the trash can on the other side of the room, before turning and grinning at you. You couldn’t help but grin back, “You’re the best.” 

“I’m told.” He shrugged, feigning a humble demeanour. You stood, and he did so with you, looking at you pointedly, “But you should still take it easy today. It’s your first game, and you’ve been here for a week. Nobody is gonna judge you for stepping back today.” 

You scoffed, rolling your newly healed wrist around with a small smile, “I’m not stepping back for shit, Fletcher. I’m beating the hell out of Chris Rodriguez.”

“He’s on your team.” 

“I don’t care.” You rebutted. Lee rolled his eyes, but ultimately let you off with a wave. “See you later!” 

The past five days had been fairly tame. When the team setup was posted on Sunday afternoon, everyone went immediately into prep mode for the game. You knew they took it seriously, but you didn’t realise how seriously they did until you found yourself being pulled out of your sleeping bag at five in the morning so you could get a headstart on training with Luke. Although you didn’t see the relevance — after you’d broken your wrist, the boy hadn’t even let you look at a spear, so you woke up at the asscrack of dawn to…sit around and watch him train. 

Thankfully, Hermes had paired up with Ares for once, and Clarisse wasn’t letting you off easily. Whenever she could, she was dragging you to the arena and teaching you how to fight one-handed. So you were more than ready, skipping down the infirmary steps with an easy smile. 

“I think I see you here more than I see you anywhere else.” 

You paused, looking up and spotting Evan, leaning gently on the porch railing. You rounded the steps and stopped in front of him, “Hey. I’ve only been here twice.”

“In…” He checked his imaginary watch, “One week. That’s gotta be a record.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, “Okay. I’m still learning, leave me alone.” 

“We’ll see how much you’ve learnt later today.” He quipped, running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, “Good luck.” 

“Thanks.” You slid out, sarcasm evident in your tone. He laughed, and you smiled, rolling your eyes. 

“Come on, clumsy. Let’s get to training.” He began to walk off, and you followed, presumably to where the Hermes team were gathering for last minute preparations. 

For this game, they’d paired up with Ares and Athena, Apollo taking lead for the blue team with Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Red team also had Demeter, and the boys of cabin twelve were on the blue team. It seemed like a pretty good split; or at least you thought it was, judging by the reactions of everyone when they read the pamphlet. You might have been reading it wrong, though. After all, you were crying out in pain and cradling a shattered wrist when it happened. 

Athena was always a good cabin to pair up with, was what Evie had told you when she was taking your measurements for armour. You presumed so, goddess of war and all. But you were a little wary about the Cabin Ten girls — Aphrodite was also a warrior goddess, after all. 

Evan led you around the back of the pegasi stables and through a mudded path. The only reason you hadn’t taken off running in fear that he was leading you to your imminent death was because the wood nymphs were out and about, milling around like bodyguards. They eyed you up at first, but a few of them recognised you from your impromptu baseball session with Luke last week and told them to back off. 

“Here she is, the woman of the hour!” Clarisse exclaimed when she saw you break through the trees. A few people glanced back and smiled at you politely, a sentiment you returned as Evan led you to the front of the crowd where she stood. 

Luke was beside her, and only nodded at you. You nodded back, a glimmer in your eyes that made his hands twitch. 

“Okay, now that our whole team is in attendance, we can begin.” The Ares girl said, conviction prominent in her voice. She was made to lead, that much was obvious. “You all know the deal. I won’t repeat it, not with the blue team so close by, but…” She sent a meaningful look around the whole crew, “You know where to go. We’ve been practising this, and in a couple of hours it’ll be time to bring home yet another win.”

“It’s pretty much all in the cards for us.” Luke cropped himself into the speech, “Cabin Nine have their special machinery but we’ve got wit, power and numbers. We’ll be fine.” 

“Speaking of cabin nine.” Clarisse hopped down from the wooden crate she was standing on, “I grabbed this from them just before the teams went up. Had to make sure they didn’t sabotage it.”

She pulled a long spear out from behind some other boxes, and let it shimmer in the light. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from it. Despite it being made from celestial bronze, the forger had clearly done something to make it shine a mesmerising silver. You could see your reflection in it as it glistened under the sun. It was double ended and if you squinted, you could see tiny spikes coiling around the first ten or so inches of each end. The shaft was smooth and engraved with something you could only make out when she walked over and handed it to you. 

“Wait.” You took it out of instinct, weighing it in both hands but giving a shocked look to Clarisse, “This is mine?” 

“You’re damn right.” She smirked, “Jake was having a field day making that thing, couldn’t stop talking about it. Especially when he added these,” She poked one of the spikes that coiled around the shaft and rubbed the tips of her fingers together with a wince, “They’re lethal. You’ll be unbeatable out there with this thing.” 

“Cool.” You gave it an experimental swing, and everyone in your vicinity took a long step back. You shrugged, smiling anyway, “Whoops.” 

You felt very powerful with your new weapon, and now that you had it in your hands, you could marvel at the engravings. They were images, battles fought — a lot of them recognisable. There was Perseus killing Phineus and Polydectes with Medusa’s head, Heracles and the Nemean Lion. There was even an engraving of Tantalus stealing the ambrosia and nectar from Olympus, for some reason. You’d have to ask Jake about that later. 

“We have two hours until we need to gather at the pavilion, so we won’t bore you with details.” A young girl who you’d seen around camp before stood up and addressed the crowd. She was very little, but she exuded authority even at her young age. “But if I see you lazing around, I’ll put my dagger through your foot.”

There was a chorus of nods and murmured agreement, so the little girl stepped back and nodded at Luke, who told them all to go get ready. The crowd dispersed, but you stayed firmly put as the boy made his way over to you, the little girl following behind him. 

“Sunny.” He tried not to smile, but you saw his lips twitch. He gestured to the girl beside him, “This is my little sister Annabeth. Newly appointed Counselor of Athena.”

You raised a brow, impressed, before looking down at the girl with a smile, “Hey, Annabeth.” You introduced yourself, trying not to show her how kind of scared you were for her to not like you. 

Luckily she nodded, “Hi. You better be good with that spear.”

“I’d like to think I am.” You joked. She didn’t laugh, simply telling Luke she was going to brainstorm and left you both alone in the clearing you’d been gathered in. You raised your brows at him, “I think she gets her stoic indifference from you.” 

He cracked a smile then, grabbing your spear from you and weighing it in his own hands, “Yeah. She’s a firecracker.” He looked at you firmly, “Think you’ll be good for this game? It’s not too late to back out.”

You snatched the weapon right back from him, rubbing his finger prints from the shaft with your sleeve and sending him a half-glare, “You just want an excuse to use this instead of me. I’m fine, JoJo.”

He raised a single brow, “Fine. But if you end up back in the infirmary, I’m not gonna kiss your wounds better.”

You smirked, backing away and pointing your free finger at him daringly, “You wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

He laughed, hand on heart, “Right.” 

You were quick to retreat to the Arena where you knew Clarisse was waiting for you. A good chance to break in the new armoury and swing a spear around that wasn’t made of styrofoam or rotten wood. You caught yourself a good sweat in an hour and a half, and Clarisse was covered in bloody dots from those spikes. Even if you were injured, they still didn’t stand a chance against those. It was a comforting thought. 

You would’ve practised the whole time had it not started raining — something that confused you greatly since the camp had a controlled climate. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, though, claiming that Chiron was upping the dramatics for the game. You were unsure that the centaur could just…make it rain, but you went along with it. You’d only been a demigod for a week after all. 

Not wanting to be completely soaked by the time the game started, you retreated back to the Hermes cabin, shortening your spear down with a click and tucking it into your belt loop before you sat down. You were still on the floor, still next to the six year-old who almost always rolled on top of you in the night — you had now perfected your rollover technique to get him off you without waking him up. 

You were re-lacing your combat boots when two shadows loomed over either side of you. Without so much as a glance away from your foot, you said plainly, “Stolls. What do you want?”

A twin pair of scoffs sounded and you just rolled your eyes. The one on the left spoke first, and you thought it might have been Travis, “Bold to assume we want anything.” 

“I mean, we do.” Connor added from your right, and the indisputable sound of a hard slap came right after. “Ow! Asshole.”

“Cut to it.” You moved onto your other shoe now that the left one was wound tight. You were always pretty speedy at tying laces, a fairly random skill but a skill nonetheless. 

“Well…” Connor started. 

“Luke put us on second offence.” Travis continued. 

“But we sorta hate doing second offence.” 

“Yeah, it’s way too much work.”

Connor leaned over your shoulder so his stupid grin was visible in your peripheral vision, “And we heard that you are on side offence. Which has a much lower maiming risk.”

“So you wanna swap spots?” You deducted, looking up from your feet and giving them a blank glance. They nodded, and you sighed, “Ok, first of all, there’s two of you and one of me. You’ll have to find someone else to swap with too.”

“Already done.” Travis nodded, “Sabine loves second offence.”

“Second of all,” You sent them firm looks, “Luke isn’t going to let you change the layout right before the game. Neither is Clarisse and neither is Annabeth.”

“Which is why we aren’t telling them.” Connor said like it was obvious, holding out his hands like he’d presented you with the best idea ever conjured, “Luke and Clarisse are on first offence and Annabeth is on last defence, right by the flag. No one will know.”

“Plus,” Travis sang, wiggling his eyebrows, “This is a perfect opportunity to prove to everyone how badass you are.”

“Yeah, Luke’s had you on a leash since you hurt your wrist.” Connor raised a teasing brow, “Why not show him what you’re made of?” 

You looked between them, and the silence that stretched seemed to serve as an answer because they were smirking at you and pushing themselves up and out of the door before you could utter a word. 

The rain hadn’t settled — Chiron and his dramatics, although it appeared Mr D wasn’t too much of a fan. God or not, he still got wet with the rest of them. You stood between Luke and Clarisse, the former shielding both your heads with his black jacket — Annabeth ended up squeezing between the two of you when she couldn’t keep up with her I’m too good to hide from the rain facade. You took it as a win, she was warming up to you! 

“Welcome to our first capture the flag of the summer!” Chiron bellowed, pausing for the cheers that resounded. “The usual rules are enforced. Magic weapons are permitted, the flag must be prominently presented with no more than two guards no less than ten yards from the flag! No killing or maiming, and no gagging or bounding of prisoners. Let the games begin!” 

There was a loud echo of cheers and battle cries as the first conch sounded — they only had twenty minutes to get into position and then they would be permitted to cross the creek into enemy territory. Annabeth was quick to gather up the flag guards and send them off to their agreed location with nothing but a sharp eye before she was pulling together the defensive lines and sending them off too.

“Hey.” Just before you could walk off, Luke grabbed your attention, levelling his eyes with yours as best as he could from under his helmet. He adjusted yours and patted your shoulders, “You got this, Sunny.”

You nodded, “Damn right I do.” 

It was hard to navigate the woods in the rain, which was still pouring almost torrentially over them. The forest floor had grown slippery and wet with the new downpour, but the campers traipsed through it roughly, boots squelching as they moved. You followed the side defence through mud and grass, dodging branches and puddles until you couldn’t hear the chatter of Luke and Clarisse from behind you. Then you stopped, and just ahead of you, Sabine did the same. 

It wasn’t long before Connor and Travis were pushing through the trees and greeting the pair of you with wide grins. Sabine rolled her eyes, “Shove off, punks.”

Then she was storming in the direction they came from, and you had no choice but to follow. It was hard to keep up with her long strides, but whenever you lost her in the fog you just followed the sound of her annoyed mutters. 

“Stupid kids. Can’t be trusted on last offence let alone second. It’s not fair. I punch one kid for cheating and Luke sends me to side defence. Side! Stupid punk has been out of it for too long, needs a reality check.”

You didn’t bother responding — whether you were going to agree or come to Luke’s defence, you had no idea. You just followed her to the edge where the second offence was lined up just past the edge of the shore. Evie and Evan gave you the same confused look. 

“Those Stoll fuckers wanted an easy out.” Sabine spat, pushing a stray curl back under her helmet and heaving her giant club over her shoulder. 

The twins didn’t question or fight the decision, simply shrugging and going back to where they were tracing their own tic tac toe game into the wet sand. You stood idly, hands fiddling with your belt buckle before the second conch sounded. Almost immediately did the first and side offences cross the creek and disappear into the woods, while you pulled your spear from the ground and followed the twins and Sabine across the water moments after they were gone. 

Then it was a waiting game. 

“Fuck Apollo, Marry Athena and Kill Hermes.” 

Evie scoffed, shaking her head, “No. No way. Athena would be way controlling as a wife, you gotta bag Apollo.” 

Sabine hummed, “No. I think Athena and I would be unstoppable together.”

You looked up from your shoes and between the three that stood before you. It had been two hours and the most action you had was seeing one of your own teammates get flung right back over the creek by some cabin nine contraption that you were not too keen on meeting. Your spear rested across the back of your shoulders, your arms swung around the shaft at either side as you contemplated your own answer. 

“No, see —“ You huffed, “I couldn’t marry Athena, but only because she conjures babies with her brain. I could never win an argument, I know that for sure.”

“But we all agree on killing Hermes, right?” Evan butted in with a laugh that was immediately shared by the rest of them. He settled down and squinted for a moment, “Ok. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Iris, Nemesis and…Hypnos.” 

There was immediate discourse, everyone speaking up at once with their own opinions. Sabine thought Hypnos would be a terrible lay — He’d fall asleep halfway through! — but Iris would be overbearing as a wife. Evie said Nemesis would be the best wife, she’d never let anyone hurt you, and you were just about to add on that Iris could let you eavesdrop on other people’s conversations whenever you were bored when a loud crack echoed through the trees. 

Then it was quiet. You all shared silent looks, baring your weapons and facing the enemy side. 

Another crack, a snap of a twig. Then a crash, like something being dropped onto a pile of leaves. 

A scream, and a manic son of Aphrodite breaking through the trees and aiming a large Kopis at Evan, who was quick to defend with his dual wielding swords. His teammates followed, and the rest of you jumped into action — you were only slightly panicked when you realised your opponent was a Hephaestus kid who was nearly double your height. 

You’d seen him around sometimes, he was only a year or so younger than you. Same age as Clarisse, and definitely the same level of skill in battle. What made him even scarier was that he fought with nunchucks…fucking nunchucks! And he was good with them, too. 

But you had been taught well. You were quick to defend your body and use both ends of your spear to deflect each nunchuck from making contact. At one point, he clipped your arm pretty hard, and that was when you realised they were ribbed along the edges making for a harder hit. You bounced back though, swinging every which way and not letting him touch you again. 

Briefly, you could hear your peers’ own battles. There weren’t any shouts of pain, or cries for help, so you put all your focus on the boy before you. He had a height advantage, and swung his weapon down on you fairly often, which left your torso open when you held your spear over your head. But your reflexes were like lightning, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t land that second hit. 

Fuelled by his own frustration, he lunged forward and tried to wrap the chain of his chucks around the shaft of your spear. He attempted to no avail a couple of times, but then he clicked a button on one of the shafts and released a crackle of energy along it. You were shocked momentarily by the reveal of his electric nunchucks that you faltered in your defence and he managed to wrangle your weapon in his own on the third try. You pulled back hard, trying to regain control and prevent his disarm, but he just pressed that damn button again and this time the volts ran through his chain and up the entire length of your spear. 

The crack that resounded was huge. Too huge to have come from those tiny nunchucks.  

Where you were expecting a sudden and painful shock through your hand and arms you instead felt a massive give. You stumbled back, shocked, but regained your footing before you could fall onto the wet ground. Your spear was in your hands, and the nunchucks were still wrapped tightly around the middle. You looked up from them to see their owner crumbled in a heap on the ground, nursing his painfully red hands while the rainfall soaked his clothes even more. 

You’d completely forgotten you weren’t alone until one of his teammates dropped their shield and ran to his aid. You looked up, expecting to meet the dumbstruck eyes of Evie and Evan, only to see their gazes fixed elsewhere. You turned your head. 

There in the grass was a giant streak of black, stretching along the shore for nearly five metres. It took a second for you to realise that it was embers — the ground had been burnt completely from where you stood to where it ended. And standing just before it was Luke and Clarisse — the blue team's flag in hand. They weren’t moving, they were staring at the burn in the floor, at you.

Your chin wobbled a little until the echo of the other team reached your ears. You looked at the pair urgently, “Move!”

And they did. Even when the blue team kids you’d been fighting  before tried to stop them, they were held back and Luke and Clarisse led your team to an easy victory. 

They cheered, and the conch sounded. Chiron emerged through the wood and smiled at them in congratulations — the whole spark debacle was nearly forgotten, campers too busy either cheering or groaning to notice the burn streak on the floor. Chiron did, though, and soon though the short lived celebration quieted down as he asked about it. 

Eyes turned to you. You shrugged, “I don’t…I don’t know what happened, it just —“

But then there were gasps. All around you. And suddenly Chiron wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the space above your head. And then so was everyone else. 

When you looked up, squinting past the rain, and your eyes fixated on that glowing lighting bolt that floated above your head, the world went quiet. A week of hearing everything about the glory of being claimed — how at ease you would be, how reassured you would end up. None of it was true. Because for some reason, the symbol that hung above your head sent nothing but trepidation running through you. 

You almost missed Chiron's next words,  

“Zeus. Law Maker. Striker of Lightning. King of Olympus. All hail.” He shouted your name, but it didn’t feel right in your ears, “Daughter of the Sky God.”

When you couldn’t stand the sight of it — when it started to make you feel sick, when the picturesque summer camp you were finally finding yourself in started to feel tight and uncomfortable, you looked down. Everyone was kneeling, eyes on the ground. It was comforting that they weren’t staring at you anymore, but when you searched the crowd for those baby brows that held you down, they were fixated firmly on the mud. 

After your claiming, Chiron dismissed everyone sharply. They left, all talk about the capture the flag win long left behind and replaced by canards about you and your family. Your lineage. You were very prepared to stand frozen on the other side of the creek for the rest of the day but the centaur ushered you into his office in the big house just as the rain stopped. 

The next hour was a muffled blur. You felt as if you had just been plunged underwater and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears — you vaguely registered Chiron and Mr. D asking you a load of questions about your childhood and whether there were any signs of your parentage along the way. You couldn’t answer that. 

They Iris-Messaged your mother — who was in her office and jumped up startled when the call came through. You might have been in a hazy funk, but you could tell the surprise on her face when Chiron informed her of your claiming was genuine. She’d had no idea. That, out of all things, angered you the most. 

“This new information will have caused quite a stir in Olympus.” Was one of the last things he said, “But you should be fine, since you’re seventeen.”

“Why does me being seventeen mean anything?” 

Zeus’ Cabin was subpar to say the least. Alright if you’re only going in there to worship the guy, not so alright if you’re planning on living there. There weren’t any beds, but there were alcoves lining the walls that you tucked your sleeping bag into so you didn’t have to look at the giant statue of Zeus that stood at the end of the room. For good measure, you chucked a spare blanket over its head — he could smite you for it, you didn’t really care anymore. 

You zoned back into reality when a knock sounded on your door, and you realised it was nightfall. Dinner time. You stood from your perch on one of the many benches that sat in the room — you thought they’d have better use in the pavilion, where Hermes kids were practically falling off the benches there were so little of them — and headed over to the huge double doors, heaving one open and breathing deep at the workout it took just to see who was at the door. 

It was Evie, and for some reason that made a pit of disappointment form in your gut. You sent her a weak smile nonetheless, “Hi.”

She smiled back, full of pity, “Hey. Just thought I’d come check on you, we haven’t seen you in hours.”

“I didn’t like them staring at me.” You said plainly, stepping out into the open air. The rain had stopped now, the sky clear, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, I get that.” Was her heartfelt reply. You felt bad for being so plain with her, but there was really only one person you wanted to see, “But, um, it’s dinner right about now. Wanna…come with?”

You didn’t really wanna, but you were starving and almost certain that nobody would be bringing you any food, so you shrugged, “Sure.” 

The large door shut on its own when you stepped away from it, and Evie jumped at the sound. You folded your arms and walked alongside her in silence until you were forced to part at the pavilion. She tried to say something — maybe a goodbye, a good luck. Maybe a we can’t be friends anymore because you’re forbidden. You didn’t stick around to check, walking over to the empty Zeus table where you unfortunately belonged. 

You filled your plate, hungry from the workout of capture the flag and exhaustion from the day, but your appetite was ruined when you saw Luke walk in and avoid your eyes completely in favour of sitting at his usual spot at the Hermes table. You hadn’t seen him all day, he hadn’t seen you, and yet here he was; ignoring your existence like he used to. It sort of hurt. 

So you dropped your fork, leaned your elbows on the untouched wood and stared at nothing. Only hours earlier were you at the top of your game, happy and ready to use your skills in capture the flag, show your friends what you could do. Now? You were completely alone, completely miserable, and completely ready to go back to Vermont. 

You wanted nothing more than to climb into your bed and cry. 

People started to stand. Heading in the direction of the campfire that you were definitely going to skip. Some Hermes kids stood, Luke included, and started a slow stroll down there too, past your table and down the hill. Chris was talking animatedly to his friends on either side of him, but Luke didn’t look very happy with whatever it was he was saying. Before you could build up the courage to call out for him, beg him to look you in the eyes and still stay your friend, he was shoving Chris roughly, the boy falling into your table with a grunt. 

“What the hell, man?” He sneered, brushing himself off. Luke just glared. He scoffed, “You’ve changed, bro. And not for the better.”

Then he was walking off in a huff, and his friends were following him. Luke met your eyes for half a second before storming off in the opposite direction — and with the influence of the tug on your heart, you followed. 

He was halfway to the Hermes cabin when you caught him, and you were thrown back to the time he got into that…thing with Dean from Ares and you chased him all the way up the hill. This time, it was down, and you were a lot less out of breath when you reached out and tugged on his elbow. 

He turned to you, “What?”

You paused, hand falling to your side. You swallowed, shrugged, “I…uh…”

Luke tightened his jaw, eyes flicking above your head like if he looked at you any longer his facade would break. He took in a deep breath and met your gaze once more, “Go to the campfire.”

“What —?”

“Go to the campfire.” He was backing away, “Entertain your fans, give out autographs. Conjure some more lighting. I don’t know. Do something, but don’t do it here.” 

You weren’t having that. Your gaze hardened, “Hey. You’re not allowed to say that to me after you ignored me all day.”

“I —“ He went for a rebuttal, but came up short, licking his lips in frustration. “You disappeared.”

“I was in the Big House, being interrogated.” You explained, annoyance clear in your tone, “I would’ve liked it if my best friend was waiting for me when I got out but unfortunately he decided he hated me like everyone else and I had to cry alone in my cabin.” 

He paused then, taking slow steps back towards you and meeting your saddened gaze. His brows furrowed, “I’m your best friend?” 

You cracked a tiny smile, “Of course you are, idiot.” 

His nod was barely there, but you saw it. You also saw his smile, small like yours and gone in a flash. “I don’t hate you.” He said, “I don’t care that Zeus is your dad. It’s just…”

“He forgot about me.” 

“What?”

You shrugged, folding your arms. There, standing in the middle of the cabins and staring at Luke Castellan, you admitted out loud what you’d been avoiding since you left the Big House, “Zeus. He forgot about me. That's why I never got attacked by monsters, because my deadbeat father was so busy turning his kid into a tree that he forgot he had another one.” 

Even under the tears brimming in your lids and through the lump on your throat, you saw Luke flinch. A minute movement, but you caught it like you caught all of his other details. The freckle on his eyebrow, the scar on his forehead that other people missed because they were too busy staring at his big one. The flinch when you brought up the tree. Thalia Grace, is what Chiron had called her. 

“I’m sorry for avoiding you.” He said in a low murmur. “Thalia was a friend of mine and Annabeth’s. Brought back some rough memories.” 

“Oh.” You breathed, “Oh, gods. I’m so sorry.” 

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso before you could think about it. Big bad Luke definitely didn’t like hugs, but there you were; hugging him and staining his camp shirt with your salty tears. You couldn’t help it — you were so full of emotions that a single hug that he hadn't even reciprocated was bringing you to tears. 

Then he hugged you back, and you started bawling. 

Bawling like a baby into his chest while he stood there and held you. Crying about your dad who forgot about you, your sister who died while you lived a happy life, your nonexistent purpose in life because you were over sixteen now and there was nothing for you. Maybe being a forbidden kid was enough, but not really. You weren’t forbidden enough for them, apparently. 

“Sorry for shoving Chris.” He spoke into your hair. You pulled your head back enough to meet his eyes, “He was saying shit about you and Thalia and it pissed me off. I know that you want me to be better, happier or whatever, and I am trying but…”

“I don’t care.”

His lips shut with a smack, “What?”

You let out a sad chuckle, “Be miserable. I don’t care, I like you for who you are. Plus, I get it. Y’know? This isn’t the happiest life.” 

Luke looked at you with an expression so genuine and heavy that it sort of scared you, but you let it burn you. You’d let him burn you forever more. Then he let out a breath, tinged with relief, and relaxed his forehead onto your own. You stayed like that, heads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, until footsteps bled into your ears. 

You pulled away from each other and spotted Annabeth, who was making her way over very quickly, trudging through the grass that was still wet from earlier. 

“Anna Banana.” Luke squinted, his new way of smiling, “What are ya’ doing over here?”

The girl stopped between the two of you and ignored her brother in favour of looking at you, “So, you’re Zeus’ kid.”

“Yup.”

“I knew your sister. She was my sister, too, for a bit.” She said, and you thought it sounded sad, but the girl hid her emotions well. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged — it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Zeus’. You sent her a kind smile. 

She returned it, glancing at Luke then, “Don’t call me that.” 

He chucked, patting her on the head and yanking on one of her braids. She huffed and smacked his hand away, but smiled nonetheless. Then she looked back at you, “You were good with that spear today. Maybe Athena could pair up with Zeus for the next game.”

“Maybe they could.” You nodded. 

She nodded back, before announcing her departure and heading off. You looked at Luke with a proud grin, “She likes me.” 

He smiled fully, amused, “She does.”

“You like me.”

A little sheepish, “I do.”

“So who cares if daddy dearest doesn’t?” You settled on, tilting your head, “We got each other.” 

Luke nodded, and you admired the way he looked. He was handsome, that you knew, but he seemed particularly beautiful under the moon, alone with you.

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @ma1dita @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (comment to be removed/added!) (also sorry if some of these didn’t work idk what’s going on)

[froggibus]

Power Trip - Miguel O’Hara

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f! Reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Miguel comes to your universe seeking comfort, but gets the opposite when he sees you on a date

CW: kinda sorta maybe dubcon?, friends with benefits, dom! Miguel, sub! Reader, jealous! Miguel, possessiveness, fingering, oral (f! receiving), slight orgasm denial, begging, sub/dom dynamics, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, Miguel is kind of an asshole

ive been incredibly down bad for this man lately so here is the result of my 2am thirst writing lol <3 also idkidk I just love the idea of fwb with Miguel and him being super possessive while also being noncommittal

————

It’s late by the time Miguel is back in your universe, but you’re nowhere to be seen in your studio apartment. He knows you were here recently, he can smell it. Smell your perfume lingering in the air. 

The sweet smell floods his senses and only adds to his annoyance. Where are you going this late at night, dressing up all nice and smelling so sweet? Who are you seeing?

The thought of you going on a date has the adrenaline pumping through his veins. You’re his. You should be with him. 

He pulls his mask back over his face and climbs out of your window, pulling out his phone. He opens up the app he installed on your phone to track you, narrowing his eyes when he sees the red dot pulsing at a bar. 

Because of course you’re at a bar. 

Miguel watches you from the shadows of the rooftop across the street. You’re all dressed up, sipping on a Manhattan while some loser chats you up. He can’t help but size the guy up—he could snap him like a twig with one arm. 

What the hell are you doing with a guy like that?

You can feel eyes on you, and not just from the guy in front of you talking about his crypto. No—you’re being watched. You can feel eyes burning into the back of your head, watching your every move. 

The feeling makes you tense, shoulders bunching up to your ears. You finish off your drink and start pulling your coat over your shoulders. 

Crypto guy looks at you in confusion. “Leaving so soon?”

“Yeah, I just, I need some air,” you say, and before he can protest anymore, you’re shoving your way onto the cold, crowded streets. 

Miguel doesn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time, silently trailing after you. He almost laughs at the way you look over your shoulder, trying to see if you’re being followed, but falling just short of seeing him. It’s adorable, really. 

As if he’d ever let anything happen to you. 

You set down your bag and jacket at your kitchen table, rolling your shoulders to loosen the tension. Something in the shadows catches your eye and you sigh. Of course. 

“You can come out now,” you sigh. 

Miguel steps out of the shadows, broad frame towering over you. His jaw is clenched and he looks unimpressed. 

“What are you doing here, Miguel?”

“Who was that at the bar?”

You sigh, leaning against your counter and rubbing your temples. “We’re not together, Miguel. You shouldn’t even be here.”

He steps closer to you, fists clenched at his sides. His dark eyes narrow on you, eyeing you from head to toe. “Answer the question.”

“Jesus—just some guy, okay? Why is it any of your business?”

You’re playing a dangerous game, like running across thin ice and expecting not to fall through. You avoid looking at him—you can feel the tension in the air. 

And then Miguel laughs. Really laughs. You stay perfectly still, clenching your hands on the counter. Heavy footsteps approach you until you can feel him standing behind you, hard breathing echoing in your ears. 

His hands grasp your hips, sharp nails digging into your sides. He tugs you back to him, holding your hips flush against his. “It’s always my business,” he growls. “You can pretend all you want, dear, but you will always be mine.”

His words have your breath catching in your throat, heat flooding your entire body. You squirm under his touch with no real intention of getting away, body fully submitting to him just from his touch. 

“See?” He rubs his hands up your sides, roughly cupping your chest and squeezing hard. “You like to play pretend and tease and run away, but you come back to me. Every. Single. Time.”

He squeezes again, hovering his lips over the base of your throat. A gasp falls from your lips. You can feel his fangs grazing your throat, sharp teeth brushing the sensitive skin. You close your eyes, bracing yourself on the counter in front of you. 

He pushes his hand under your shirt, cold fingers ghosting over your sensitive skin. You shiver from his touch, throwing your head back against his chest. His other hand snakes around your throat, holding you still so he can sink his fangs into your neck. 

The puncture stings as always, blood rushing to the sensitive vein he just bit into. Miguel manages to balance the pain with pleasure—rolling your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gently rubbing and harshly tugging at them. 

He moans at the taste of you, hot blood flooding his mouth. You’ve always tasted delectable, and he’s never been able to get enough. You shake in his arms, whimpering from the feeling. He can smell your arousal in the air, flooding his senses. 

He releases your neck and drops his hand from his shirt, lifting you up and tossing you onto the counter. He towers over you, broad form engulfing the kitchen light. He rips off your shirt, practically shredding the flimsy fabric to pieces. 

“M-miguel!” 

He rolls his eyes at your antics, pulling so the edge of your thighs rest on the counter. He pulls your pants off in one, swift motion, leaving you naked and shivering on the marble countertop. 

The smell of you only gets stronger, sending the blood rushing straight to his groin. You look so pretty like this, so weak. His for the taking—not that you’d ever protest. 

Sharp teeth graze the plush skin of your thighs as he plants kisses up to your heat. The feeling of his breath just above where you need him most has you arching your back, pushing your hips into his face. 

Miguel takes that in stride, wrapping his hands around your thighs to hold you in place and forcing you down to his mouth. The first touch of his tongue against your swollen clit has your eyes rolling back, pleas for more filling the air. 

You reach down to tug on his hair, dark curls falling through your fingers like silk. The feeling of you pulling on his hair and shoving your hips into his face only makes Miguel hungrier for you. He slips a finger inside of you, working you open. His fingers are so long and so thick, they stretch you open better than when you do it yourself. 

He pushes another finger inside of you, pulling his mouth away so he can watch your drooling hole open up around his knuckles. “As if any other man can make you feel like this,” he growls. 

He dives back into your pussy, burying his face between your legs. The added contact has your legs shaking, muscles quivering around his face. He slips one more finger in, reaching that spot that he knows drives you crazy. 

It only takes another second before you’re being thrown over the edge, crying out for more while trying to pull away from him. Miguel keeps a tight grip on your legs, holding you against his face while you ride out your orgasm. 

He pulls away, a twisted grin on his face. “Look at you,” he shakes his head, tugging off his pants to reveal his hard cock. 

He strokes it with one hand, using the other to trail up and down your shaking body. You’re looking at him with those needy, desperate eyes. It’s like you’re begging him to take you. 

He lands a slap to your pussy, laughing at the way you whine and try to close your legs around his hand. He spreads your legs apart, positioning himself between them so all you can do is wrap your legs around his hips. 

He shoves his way inside of you, your walls straining to take him after all this time. He’s so big, so much bigger than you, it’s a struggle. You close your eyes and whine, reaching desperately for his shoulders. For anything to ground yourself. 

Miguel settles into a steady pace, slamming his hips into yours, bottoming out with every thrust. He’s so deep inside of you, stretching out every part of you. 

With every thrust he admires the fucked out look on your face. Your whines and whimpers and pleas for him to keep going only drive him further, speeding up his pace just so he can keep hearing you whine like that. 

You claw at the skin of his back, each thrust pushing you farther across the counter before Miguel tugs you back to him and thrusts again. You slide your hands from his shoulder to his arms, gripping at the muscles of his forearms. 

His muscles flex with every thrust, tugging you even further against him. He watches how desperate you are, how badly you need to finish. He knows if he keeps up this pace, you won’t last long. 

So he stops, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of you. 

You whine in protest, opening your eyes to reveal tears starting to form. “W-why’d you stop?”

“Admit you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a thrust before holding still, “or you don’t get to cum again.”

“M-miguel, please,” you whine, looking up at him with those desperate eyes. 

He stares at you unimpressed, trying to resist the urge to keep going so he can finish too. But he won’t. Not until you say it. 

You try to thrust your hips against his but he holds you still, and he’s so much stronger than you that there’s no chance of moving. 

You sigh. You didn’t want to be put in this position again, but he’s so sexy and you’re so hot and wet and all you want is to cum, and his big cock is just sitting there inside of you. You clench around him, whining. 

“I-I’m all yours.” You whine, trying to pull him back to you, “only yours.”

He grins, immediately thrusting back into you. His pace is faster now, more frantic. Desperate. 

He wipes a few tears from your face, “isn’t it just so much easier when you submit to me? Don’t you love it when you don’t have to think about anything other than being my slut?”

His words make you drool and clench around him, wrapping your legs around his waist to force him deeper. Miguel gets the hint, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and fucking into you even harder. 

He’s so close, but he refuses to finish until you do. He leans in, leaving gentle bites up and down your neck and collarbone. The slight pain is enough to finish you off, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves. 

As soon as he feels your legs shaking, your muscles relaxing, Miguel knows he can let go. He pounds into you a few more times before bottoming out and letting wave after wave of cum flood your insides. 

The hot feeling has you moaning, lazily rolling your hips into his while he pumps his cum inside of you. Miguel pulls out, admiring the sight of you on the counter with his cum leaking out of you. 

He pulls on his clothes and leans in to kiss you. “This is how it should be,” he says. “You better be ready for me next time, no nonsense.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smirks at your submission. “Good girl,” he says, and disappears into the night. 

[lostinlads]

Meet The Leader Of Onychinus

Synopsis: After days of being locked up in the base of the man wo had taken you from your home, you finally are summoned to meet him. Little do you know it is so much worse than you imagined. You're in the base of the criminal organization, Onychinus.

Tags: sylus x femme!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, mc is really going through it, mentions of guns, mentions of kidnapping, your first few days at onychinus, sylus is rough with you, angst, hurt no comfort

Words: 2.7k

an: Firstly i want to thank all of you for how much love this fic has gotten so far, i honestly didnt expect any of this so im kinda in shock??? But really, thank you. Ive been sitting on this idea for a little over a month now and im finally getting around to working it out for all of you!! but i hope you enjoy this chapter! its a tad longer than the first, once i find my footing in writing again maybe ill make them longer but this is what i worked up for now!! Also as always if you see any mistakes please let me know!

ao3 | Chapter List | kofi

The N109 Zone has kept you in near complete darkness for days. You didn't know how long you spent in this room, door locked from the outside, no way to leave; but it felt like a lifetime already. You were grateful for the ensuite bathroom, the sink enough to satisfy your thirst, but the small amount of food left for you on the desk was a reminder that it was just enough to keep you alive. A small box of crackers and a handful of granola bars didn't satisfy the hunger in your stomach. 

Sleep has eluded you, no matter how much you tried, it barely came. When it did, you were restless - tossing and turning for a few hours until you rose again. Dreams filled with terrifying crimson eyes and vast darkness. The constant blackness didn't help, not knowing the time of day or how long you had been here made your unease crawl under your skin. Your time spent by laying around and watching out the window for any signs of anything, but everything stayed still.

The house had been quiet, soft shuffling of the maid could be heard through the door at times, but other than that there was nothing. Were you the only one here? Where did the twins and that man go? Maybe the thought of leaving you here to starve to death hadn't been too extreme, seeing that no one had come to check on you since the moment you arrived. Kieran and his twin tossing your bag in the room and shutting it tight behind you, the unmistakable sound of the lock latching closed.

You often found yourself imagining what would've happened if you were strong enough to fight back, strong enough to get away from the entire situation. How could this have happened? Your father? The only family you have, selling you off to a criminal for payment. It didn't feel real. If things had been different, if you had gotten away, maybe you'd be somewhere else by now. Hiding out in the depths of Linkon, or maybe at the beach. 

A single sharp knock brought your mind back, your heart speeding up in your chest as you stand from the plush bed. The door unlocked and opened; familiar crow masks meet your gaze as they both stand in the doorway.

"Boss wants to see you now," One spoke, stepping forward into the room. The wide space receding at his presence, shrinking the room by tenfold as your hands shake. Reluctantly, you step forward, surrendering yourself to them to take you to their boss. His hand curls around your arm as he leads you out, his twin mirroring his actions. They lead you through the massive house, warm, dim light illuminating the halls as you pass. The thought occurs, that it wouldn't matter if they held you, you wouldn't make it out of this maze of a building alone. 

Rounding a corner, you are pulled down a long hallway. A brilliant, massive door stands before you, intricate wood carvings dance up the length like vines. Two brass door handles twinkle in the dim light, glistening like a prize. But beyond that door, whatever was waiting for you, is anything but. 

With each step, you could feel his presence looming - his power consuming. If only you could run, save yourself from the torture you were about to endure. The anticipation eating you alive, steeling you for any abuse about to come.

The twins reach out, hands curling around both handles before swinging the wide, heavy doors open.

If it hadn't been a few sconces on the wall, barely illuminating the room, you would've guessed it had been abandoned. But at the far end, a chair sat, large enough to be called a throne. And perched on it, with crossed legs and his head in his hand, the man who had taken you from your home. From your life. 

Candlelight flickered over his strong features; you couldn't make out if he was pissed or simply bored. You didn't want to find out. But caught like his prey, you were immobilized, arms wrapped in two strong hands holding them firmly at your sides. Is this what it feels like to be a hare, staring down the throat of a looming wolf, about to be consumed? You wouldn't doubt if he could hear your beating heart from across the room, the way his eyes stayed glued to your form. 

"You can go," You flinch, the deep voice echoing in the large space. Within a second the hands drop from you, the twins turning and leaving. You didn't watch them, couldn't even lift your head from the floor. Stay still, stay quiet. Stay complicit and maybe you would survive this.

Silence so deafening as the room settles around the two of you, his eyes burning holes into your flesh as neither of you move. Was he waiting for you? Were you supposed to speak? You ball your fists at your side, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. The feeling of dread never leaving, maybe this is where you die? He had his fun, leaving you to go insane as you stayed locked away, now this is his real show. Ripping you apart, shooting you, stabbing you. Anything. 

"Apologies for my lack of manners," He finally spoke, his words feeling like a blow to your stomach as you breathe out. You don't meet his gaze, eyes still screwed shut. "I had some... business to attend to for a few days. But now that I have returned," He pauses, something touches you and you jump, eyes flinging open as you see tendrils of red and black mist curl around you before locking around your wrists, drawing them together in a bruising grip. You cry out, a soft mewl as you try to pull away. "We have some business to attend to ourselves."

"I... Please, I'll do anything just don't hurt me," You whimper out, tears already threatening to leave your tired eyes. You look at him, finally. Seeing those blood red eyes on you again brought a chill down your spine. 

"Then don't make me," His words matter of fact. He dropped his hand from his head as his other rose up, more mist shooting across the room before it tightened around your waist. Next thing you know you're being pulled across the room at lightning speed, your hair flying behind you as the air gets knocked from your lungs. You prepare for impact, maybe a wall or a floor, but it never comes. You're delicately placed on his lap, strong thighs under yours as you blink, trying to understand what happened. Your wrists are still bound, the grip of the mist never wavering. 

"Please..." You whisper again, wanting this cat and mouse game to end. Just get it over with, for him to stop toying with you. You almost don't see it, a small tick of his lips upward in a smirk for just a second. 

"I need to make sure you won't disobey me," He leans back, resting in his throne as if this is the most normal situation in the world. "I know your power; how strong it can be. How strong you can make me." A crease forms between his brows.

"Y-yes," You stutter out, a tear slipping from your eye. 

"I have got to say, Kitten," He smirks again at the nickname, your gut turning in response. "If I train you right, you will be my most powerful weapon." His hand comes up, you flinch away, eyes closing as you turn your head waiting for a blow. But his long fingers brush against your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

"But," He speaks again. "I don't know if I can trust you yet." His words lower to a whisper, the closeness and how quiet his voice became felt like this whole scene was more intimate than you wanted. He was toying with you, you knew this. Kneading you like dough before tossing you in the oven to bake you alive. Trust? You? He could kill you without thought and he is worried about trusting you? Maybe he is planning on whipping you to submission, breaking you to the point you can no longer do anything but be used by him. The though made you want to puke. You needed to think, work a plan to lessen your sentence in this hell so the pain wouldn't be so bad.

"Maybe you could trust me if I can trust you in return," You try your hardest to speak with confidence. He cocks an eyebrow at you, tilting his head slightly. "I mean," Your words rush out, grasping at anything to delay the inevitable. "I don't even know your name..." You whisper out. He laughs, his hot breath fanning over your face.

"You can call me Sylus."

"Sylus," You repeat, nodding your head once.

"And I'm the leader of Onychinus," He watched in amusement as the realization washed over you, the candlelight flickering off of his features making his face look like some kind of monster. Face dropping as your pulse quickened at that one word. Onychinus. The most dangerous criminal organization in the N109 Zone. And here you were, caught in the trap of the leader, sitting on his lap at his base. The nausea returned, your stomach turning as your mouth flooded with saliva. There really was no hope for you, you were royally fucked. 

"O-Onychinus," You breathe out, your vision tunneling as your pulse pounded in your veins. Sylus's lips curled up in an evil smile, his eyes dancing between yours.

"That's right, Kitten. That Onychinus." You try to swallow, the lump in your throat so large you almost choke. "Your - lovely - father had been playing too many games down in The N109 Zone and found himself in the palm of my hand." He held out his large hand, as if to demonstrate. "Having the right-hand man to the mayor of Linkon as your client is only as useful as any lowlife is. But the more money he owed the more I got fed up with is useless promises and his pathetic excuses. But luckily, he offered me you." His fingers curl into his palm, except his index which he pointed at your chest. "And that ticking little bomb in your chest." Almost as if on cue, your heart sped impossibly faster as he tapped on it twice. 

"So," He pulled away, leisurely resting back in the chair. "I don't really care if you trust me. I just need to make sure that you don't get any silly ideas of escaping or trying to take me down from the inside out. I own you now, there's no where you can run to, Kitten." He looked away, boredom coating his features again as his eyes trailed past you. You couldn't do anything other than stare at his haunting face. How could you run? The leader of Onychinus surely had more surveillance than you could ever imagine. And taking him down? You barely had enough energy to even sit here.

"I won't," You promise weakly, your words a breathless whisper as your eyes stay trained on his face. Your fists ball, muscles tensing against the tight ring of mist. The pressure straining against your pulse.

His eyes drift back to yours, a hand lifting from the arm of the chair. You watch more of the black and red smoke flow from thin air. It grazes your arm; you fight against a wince as it trails down to your still conjoined wrists. The link holding them together snaps as the tendril loops around one, firm but not suffocating like before. It lifts it, hand facing the ceiling as it continues to coil around your skin like a snake. Even though you wanted to, you couldn't deny how sensual the act felt. 

"Let's try something, then," Sylus purrs, sending a shiver down your spine and drawing your eyes back to his face. His intense gaze flickering between your eyes as the corner of his lips draw up into a smirk. The confused heart in your chest sped faster, at the anticipation or how intimate the setting has become? You weren't sure. 

His long fingers traced up your inner forearm, gliding up to your wrist in a delicate touch as goosebumps rose in its wake, drawing a gasp from your lips. You watch as Sylus's fingers push yours open, splayed wide before his thread through yours. 

HIs words ring in your ears from days prior. He doesn't do that. But here he is now, you nestled on his large thighs as his hand intwines with yours. Maybe it had been a front, a shoe so no one knows what he really does with his toys.

But to your surprise his hand tightens, an almost crushing grip before you feel the all too familiar pull of your evol. Power being pulled from deep inside your core as he tries to draw it out. But your head swirled, blood rushing as you cry out.

"Stop, please," You cry, trying to pull your hand from his. The grip only tightened as the crease between his brows returned with a scowl. 

"Not so fast," He gritted between his teeth. Sylus pushes harder, eyes closing in an attempt to focus on waking your evol. White, hot pain bloomed in your throbbing head, making a sob rip from your chest.

"I c-can't! Please, Sylus, I can't!" You plead out again, your free hand coming to cradle your skull. His eyes snap open, washing over your features before letting your hand fall with a scoff. 

"You're lucky I don't like picking on the weak, Kitten," He seethed. Your eyes screw shut, other hand coming to your head as you try your hardest to will the pain away. Your body weak with hunger and exhaustion, you didn't care if he killed you for not resonating with him, you almost hoped he would, anything to stop this burning pain.

Sylus shifted under you, but you didn't care, praying he was reaching for a gun to end this never-ending nightmare. But a minute later the tendrils enveloped you again. The feeling of Sylus's thighs left you as your body was placed onto the hard, cold floor. 

He didn't speak, you don't know if he was sitting and watching you writhe in pain or focused on another point in the room. Wishing you were a stronger person, you'd curse him out, spit in his face and scream at him for causing you so much pain. But the only thing you could manage was a weak sob.

The twin heavy doors sounded behind you; two boot clad footsteps grew louder until they stopped next to you.

 "Take her to her room. We're done here," Sylus spoke, his voice cold as stone.

"Yes, Boss," The twins obeyed, their hands returning around your arms slowly lifting you from the floor to your feet. you couldn't help but note that their touch was cautious, almost caring, as they paused to help you figure out your footing.

Once steady, they lead you down the winding, confusing maze that was the base of Onychinus in silence until you reach the door that contained your prison cell. Kieran releases your arm as he steps forward, clasping the knob before opening the door.

If his twin hadn't been holding onto you, you would've collapsed at the sight before you. Large boxes lined the room, a few smaller ones resting on the plush bed. If it hadn't been for the dove plush sitting atop of one, you wouldn't know what the contents would be. But you remember that same dove sitting on your bed at home. These were your things, your beloved belongings. A splash of color against the dim, dark area you had spent your last days. A sense of familiarity, a sense of home. Safety.

Kieran's twin lets you go, your feet wasting no time to move beneath you, drawing you further into the room. Your shaking hands reach out, reaching or the dove, almost needing to confirm that this is real. Your hands grasp it, not wasting any time to pull it to your heaving chest as a soft, relieved sob slips past your lips. You turn around and face the two masked men watching from the doorway.

"Thank you," Two simple words fall from your mouth, but they nod, understanding before they shut the door, leaving you some peace. 

Knees hitting the wooden floor beneath you as you collapse. Uncontrollable sobs shaking out of your weak body.

[tavolgisvist]

On summer days, for some 'exercise,' Dad, Paul and I would cycle fron Speke past Joseph Williams and across the peaceful countryside to Auntie Jin's 147 Dinahs Lane, Huyton home. One such afternoon, after receiving our customary thirst-quenching refreshments, Paul and I were sniffing round the back yard of Jin's large semi-detached house and discovered a big can of petrol. Our fresh thirst for knowledge posed the interesting scientific question: Would it or wouldn't it burn up a wall? 'Of course it will.' 'Bet you it won't.' 'How much?' 'Bag of ollies.' 'You're on.' One tin of Uncle Harry's best petrol was unscrewed and the stupid one that made the bet laid a trail along the back yard up the wall of the garage and onto the tarpaulin roof. Once on the roof I made sure that I'd collect my winnings by staying there to verify the results of the experiment. 'OK, let's prove it,' said the sceptical scientist below, setting fire to the gasoline. 'Whoosh!' went the trail. 'See!' I shouted, happy for scientific verification (and a bag of marbles), 'What a gas!' but not too happy with the now fiercely burning garage roof which blocked my exit to the ground. Just then, who should be pushing his blue serge bike along Dinahs Lane but the Local Constabulary. Calling on my relative's door he enquired, 'Excuse me, madam, but is that your son setting fire to himself on your garage?' Our scientific enquiry was soon settled by Newton's Law of relatively speaking…a hand falling onto a bottom…repeatedly!

(Mike McCartney, 1981, Thank U Very Much. Mike McCartney's Family Album)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI)

My brother and I were firebugs when we were kids, and my dad worried that we would burn the house down, so he made us light a whole box of matches till we got totally fed up of it.

(Paul McCartney about Two of Us, The Lyrics, 2021)

[crguang]

fav hcs about kafka and black swan?

sfw? let me think… off the top of my head:

kafka not being able to cook is a favorite of mine idk why. the idea of her being terrible in the kitchen while having a picky palate is funny. at most, she can grill and boil things and make simple dishes but she can’t replicate the meals she prefers to eat and that’s just funny to me

she loves jazz. this one just makes sense to me i feel like she can listen to almost anything but if she were to control the aux some jazz would be in her playlist

she knows flower language and a bunch of pager codes

can tie a knot with her tongue

prefers calling over texting because she lowkey loves to talk. if you text her she might not answer but if you call the chances of her picking up are higher

has the habit of moving her index finger around or in circles when she’s lost in thought, like she’s conducting an orchestra

most of her favorite coats are custom made/designed

takes a whole day when she’s shopping because she’s super picky. still ends up with five bags worth of clothes and is always on the lookout for new ones no matter where she is. speaking off, everyone knows her pin cause they need to be on the lookout too (she has multiple credit cards. keeps track of each one)

her favorite lipstick color is peach with a little pink in it

gets quiet when she’s disappointed, sad or annoyed. tho she’ll also petulantly whines and tsks when she’s annoyed (my big baby)

not a words of affirmation girlie if you can’t handle her only telling you she loves you four times in a lifetime just end things😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 master at deflection, if you ask her if she loves you she’ll say shit like “isn’t it obvious?” “what do you think?” girl

SWEET TOOTH. IDC IDC she never says no to cake DIRECT FIREFLY QUOTE. she loves her lollipops

spine tattoo yup… a rose’s stem with thorns ive seen it personally

for swan let’s see…

somewhere on some planet she’s immortalized in art and doesn’t know it. for the amount of times she appears to people in reality or in dreams, i just know there’s an artist who had to draw/paint/sculpt this spirit they swear was tangible one second and disappeared the next

swan is very easy to remember because she stands out a lot by both her looks and her behaviour. people may not know that she’s a memokeeper, but she’s in a lot of people’s memories regardless

i don’t think her being a little stalker is a hc but i’m adding on to it so it kinda is… it’s one of my favorite things about her it’s just so funny to describe it that way 😭 all memokeepers are stalkers by default but swan is a very curious soul, she gets invested and ends up having to reveal herself because she just has to have an interaction with whoever she’s interested in

unlike most memokeepers, swan doesn’t discriminate in terms of what memory holds value. she sees value in everything. she’s more drawn by the feelings attached to memories than the memories themselves sometimes. a moment of quietude where nothing is said, all is still and everything is felt? so nice. she extracts it

she can call her s/o every pet name under the sun and somehow not be cringe about it. it’s a super power. maybe it’s because she’s so sexy and that voice is so sultry that if she called me some shit like “baby cakes” i’d giggle

some of her favorite moments are when her s/o is just about to fall asleep. i feel like she’d love to be the reason they get a good night’s rest and it’s story time (she loves telling stories)

a gift giverrr, since she sees value in all discarded and overlooked things it’s not rare for her to bring back objects that “have witnessed a lot” and that she thinks her s/o would like

fav cuddle position is being on the bottom with her s/o on top of her

she is soooo calm. so zen. so good at dealing with stressful people and stressful situations. not above giving her s/on a nice massage either but thats just an excuse to get her hands on them

doesn’t feel thirst or hunger but she does have a favorite drink. i dont know what it is but i know she has one ok. she was drinking a little too often with acheron

might indulge you if you ask her to show you her memokeeper tricks. mostly the stuff about her getting into tvs and billboards and paintings

loves to dance even if it’s just twirling her s/o around in the living room

smells like incense or specific candles

she lovesss touch and physical contact. always touching her s/o in some way. when they’re alone she takes off her gloves for it

i cant think of any more but i probably have a thousand that i write in unconsciously honestly

[bennie-jerry]

Supernatural Romances make NO sense - A Random Opinion

Here's the thing: As much as I enjoy these concepts or tropes, they don't make sense when you take the time to think about it. Don't believe me? Let's go down the list then.

Vampire romances: The concept of a vampire romance really doesn't make sense when you take just five minutes to add all the aspects together.

Sure, it can be intriguing or whatever (especially if there’s a unique way in which the premise is handled), but let's really boil down the contents of its true implications here.

A vampire is a creature that feeds on human blood. Vampire romances USUALLY (not all the time, but usually) involve a vampire falling for a human rather than a vampire falling for another vampire.

Let me say this again. Vampire, which eats humans---then has stories where they then fall for humans.

That's like a chupacabra hooking up with a goat. What sense does it make for a creature to fall in love with something it usually tends to eat?

Even if the said predator of this relationship has no intention of eating their mate or harming them---would you, as a rational person, feel comfortable knowing that your partner has to harm YOUR species and eat them for their own survival? I highly doubt it.

"Oh, I know you kill people and drink their blood, but I know you won't kill ME! I'm just DIFFERENT--"

It literally makes no sense.

Zombie romances: Zombie romances make even less sense to me. Because now instead of a creature that simply wants your blood, it’s a creature that quite literally wants to rip your stomach open and eat your intestines like Twizzlers.

At least with a vampire, you could just have IV blood bags for them to drink to put off their thirst for a WHILE. But when it comes to zombies, they literally rely on eating the WHOLE entirety of the human.

Once again, it’s like a chupacabra dating a goat. Oh, but what if the zombie doesn’t want to eat or harm their partner?

Well, then we get into even more ethically concerning details on the human’s part. Because aren’t zombies walking corpses that eat people? And if a human is willing to date or become uh…'entangled’ with a zombie, isn’t that a form of necrophilia since the zombie is literally just a man-eating corpse? 

Sure, we could argue whether or not zombies are living or non-living. But let's be honest here: the majority of the time, zombies do not look cute. They are rotting parts of their bodies, they look dead, they smell horrible, they’re covered in blood, and sometimes missing a limb or two. If you’re unironically attracted to that in real life or something (not including those who JUST like the stories for the stories), you are mentally ill—there’s no way around it for me. You are attracted to something that looks like a corpse. That in itself is necrophilia and it’s honestly gross from an incredibly literal standpoint.

Even if the zombie were to look like some cutesy/idealistic anime character or something, it still doesn't change the fact that this thing's practically DEAD.

Sure, like vampire romances, it could be interesting depending on the intricacies of the story. But it still makes no sense when you write it down on paper. Wow, you’re dating a creature that looks dead and has to fight off the urge to eat people every single second they're on this planet. How quirky. 

Ghost romances: Ghost romances also don’t make sense on paper. Now, this one is a bit more loose in my opinion since ghost archetypes are often experimented with in terms of what they can do or not do. It’s just one of those things where it really depends on the story world and the premise it's placed in. However, from the very cultural and general stance of how ghosts work, they can’t touch anything (except when it's to conveniently scare people, so even then, their intangibility is transient) and they can’t age. 

I’m sorry, but aren’t the driving points of a romance being able to see the characters display affection and/or get old together? And if a ghost can’t touch anything, what’s the point in being romantically involved with someone you can’t kiss? I get there’s long distance relationships, but if they’re in the same room with you—why would you want that? 

Even if the subject of physical intimacy wasn’t an issue, there’s still the prospect of aging. Because if your boo (pun intended) died young and is a ghost, that means they’re physically stuck at that age forever. Even if they were to be centuries older than you, wouldn’t it be weird to see some elderly person smooching on a young looking supernatural?

Let me put it like this. A human woman at 25 years old is in a relationship with a male ghost. The said male ghost died at 30. Sure, she could get away with dating him for another five or ten years, but eventually, the human woman ages in appearance physically and looks older than her ghost partner. And if she lives long enough, she’s gonna be 80 while her boo still looks 30. You’re seriously telling me that DOESN’T look weird from the outside? Wouldn't you be weirded out if some super old person was smooching up with someone decades younger than them?

At that point, to avoid any oddities, you’d be better off killing yourself in whatever spot they’re stuck to so you wouldn’t have to worry about aging out of proportion in the relationship (and if not aging, then to touch them). That sounds like a lot more work than it’s worth.

Werewolf romances: Werewolf romances are the only sort of supernatural romance I could possibly get behind—and even then, it’s still highly dependent on how the said story chooses to handle the workings of lycanthropy. 

At least with this partner, they most likely can turn humans who won’t HAVE to kill you out of survival. You don’t have to be sorry about some super weird complex age gap. And you can touch them. Sounds like a pretty decent basis so far. BUT there’s always a catch.

A werewolf is (duh) a person who can turn into a wolf (or wolf-like monster). When it comes to these beings, it really is a roll of the dice. Because some versions will make them seem they have no thought process or control at all—whereas others give them complete control. So to call a werewolf automatically dangerous to the well being of their human partner is rather tough to say off the bat. Though, I do know that all of that fur that sheds off of them will be annoying to deal with (and that’s not even counting all of the things they might chew up---like your shoes).

And while I would be inclined to agree that being in a relationship with a werewolf could most definitely be a form of beastiality, at the very LEAST a werewolf can revert back into a human the majority of the time. So as long as you’re only doing stuff with them as a human, you should technically be fine, right?

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still don’t find much appeal in becoming romantically involved with someone who can become some giant creepy wolf abomination, but at least there’s SOME things in there you COULD manipulate depending on which universe you land into.

Overall, while I do think supernatural romances are indeed a fun concept (and I DO tend to enjoy some of these stories), there’s no way in HECK I think they’re ACTUALLY plausible (unless you add some major--MAJOR--plot armor).

[sunnycanvas]

Tantalizing Love

Baldwin iv x fem!reader

I was wandering lonely in the sky,

Had no connection, no matter what, with those who fly

It was the middle of night in Jerusalem. A new year's eve to be exact. You drank beer from the can as you watched fireworks in the sky from the bridge

You sighed exhausted. You walked alone on the bridge heading towards your hotel. This place hasn't had peace for generations you thought. From history till today this place place hasn't known peace. Just when this country is in peace for few generations. It faces war again

Since the day I learnt to flap my wings,

I've been listening to a melody that the cold wind sings.

You never understood your attachment to this place. You remember talking to your friends and family where there was a discussion on which place to visit

"Jerusalem" you replied

Confused they would look at you

"For historical reasons of course" you reasoned

"Since, when did you start loving history so much" one of your friends asked

Not knowing the answer yourself you stood there quietly in the middle of busy street tightening your hold on your bag

Your other friend noticing your discomfort said

"People change, so do their interest" your friend said trying to defend you

"Kingdom of heaven" you replied

Now this got attention of both of your friends who looked at you confused. "I remember watching Kingdom of heaven in television long time ago. Ever since I have been fascinated by this place" your friends nodded understandingly. "I knew you weren't type of academic" your friend who originally questioned you replied smugly. You scoffed hearing his response and your other friend laughed.

Same response came from your family

"You want to go to Jerusalem after your graduation?" They questioned

"Yes" you replied confidently

"But why?" asked one of your family member.

"Because I want to" you replied confidently determined. They seemed confused but thankfully they didn't inquire further. However none of your friends or family wanted to visit Jerusalem. "It's okay" you thought, you could live here alone.

As you walked streets of Jerusalem you watched the sky filled with fireworks

"People seem happy despite their difficult life" you thought. You wondered how Baldwin iv would have felt if he saw his country today. You remember after watching the movie you ended up reading story of Baldwin iv and realised that historically there was much more story and different one shown in movie. You always thought that once you enter Jerusalem your obsession with this place would end.

I pushed too hard to rise up high,

A bullet hit me, I broke down, Oh sigh! ! !

Alas, it worsened. You started having dreams of man every day who seemed blind. He also had missing nose and obvious disfigurement in face. These dreams became more frequent. The more you visited historical sites in the country of Israel . Each time you would see more vivid images and more scenarios. Are these memories you thought?

Tomorrow you went and visited the church of holy sepulchre. There you stood watching the place. Suddenly you had a strong headache and more scenarios came

The thirst of my throat, the tinge of my tongue,

Relieved by the rain, reminds me the song that was sung

"Baudouin" you said with tears running from your eyes. "I don't want to leave you. I don't fear your condition please let me stay not as a lover but atleast as a subject who takes care of her king". You cried as you nearly fell on the floor but Baldwin iv caught you.

"Hush now, you need to leave" people have started to notice our affair and they are not pleased since I am the king and you are maid. Also I have taken vow of chastity. You know right leprosy is thought to be transmitted through sexual intercourse as well as disfavour from God". "It's dangerous for not only for me but you as well to be in relationship with me. If people came to know that you were in relationship with Leper then you be marginalized as well. You wouldn't be able to get married as you always wanted" he reasoned

"I don't care, I don't want anyone else but you". You sobbed. Baldwin iv looked upset and he hugged you. "For once I wanted to be selfish" he said. "I thought we were careful" you cried in his chest. "It seems we weren't careful enough" Baldwin iv sighed. "We need to seperate and it's for the best for both of us" Baldwin iv said in pain. "Please don't make it anymore difficult for me"

Then landscape got disturbed, with my hue & cry,

I decided to break down, but then you passed by

You left the palace as soon as rumours spread. Your name was not ever recorded in history as people believed that the Leper king having a lover was just a rumour.Just like that you disappeared in history. You soon lost touch with your king and died of broken heart. King Baldwin iv never knew, the only people who knew about your affair kept your affair secret told the king that you had found someone else and married that you live a well settled life. Baldwin iv was happy with slight jealousy. He knew this was for the best and you deserve a better life and not be dragged down with leper. Baldwin iv never knew and people who knew about truth carried it with them to grave

Even though Baldwin iv is no longer remembered as king disfavoured by God. He remains hugely unknown in the west. Just like you he hugely remains unknown today but unlike you he is still remembered by some people. You staggered when you recalled your memories and began to cry. You wished things could have ended differently

Looking at you & feeling your glow,

Just as in movies, and the motion was slow

"Ma, Cherie" you heard. You turned around and saw a man who had very bright eyes, an aquiline nose and blond hair. He had ruddy face and moderate height.

Wondering why you picked me up, and in this life can I ever deny?

How your words housed my mind, straight through my heart, Bullseye! ! !

Baudouin, you thought. Realising you recognised him. He smiled and said. "I missed you Ma Cherie, it's been 900 years"

Have no enough expressions, my words are in dearth,

With you by my side dear, I'm the happiest man on Earth.

-Reincarnation Love Poem by Sawan Dhyani

[devastator1775]

Hope, Love and V - Chapter 2: the decision to move forward

Chapter summary: V has to deal with visitors, revelations and important decisions.

It took V a while before she managed to return fully back to the here-and-now after her realization that her legs weren’t functioning. Her doctor had been rambling off possible directions they could undertake, but she had a hard time registering to any of them. Even after he realized that V wasn’t listening to him and decided to leave her alone to ‘process this change’, as he had put it, all V could do was stare at her legs ��� or the useless pieces of metal that they now were.

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t shout.

She didn’t throw blame towards anyone …except maybe the Sentinels that used her spine and legs for chewing toys.

She couldn’t feel anger, sadness, fear or anything else.

She just felt numb.

Like her legs.

Once V finally managed to snap herself out of her gloomy dissonance, she figured that she feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t do anything for her right now. She needed to make sense of things and get a grip on her situation. she began by just trying to get everything sorted out mentally. She went over what happened to her and what she could remember the doctor told her. There were still things that didn’t make sense to the story. Gaps and coincidences too convenient to sound true. Things she hoped that Uzi and N could shed some light on.

But until then, all she could do was rest and wait.

The day after her awakening felt so surreal to V. Nurses came in to check up on her, checking the levels of her coolant IV bag and feed her lithium flavoured jell-oil cups. It was weird, feeling hunger like ‘a normal Drone’ – if she even could call herself that now. She had been so used to that ever-present thirst and hunger for worker Drone oil and now …she was enjoying the gelatinous treat provided by those she used to hunt.

Really, though, she was on her tenth cup. Why was she enjoying this so much? Maybe something about small comforts during troubling times or some mushy feel-good nonsense like that. She hated how the mushy feel-good nonsense seemed to help her a little, tough.

After she scooped out the last bit of the wiggly, black substance and popped it in her mouth, she finally set her tray aside. She looked down at her legs, trying to ignore that cold feeling that was setting in her stomach. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the components in her legs. “C’mon…. just wiggle” She whispered at herself.

Nothing happened.

She gritted her teeth so hard, she felt that her jaw might pop out of its socket.

Nothing.

She tried again.

Nothing. Nothing.

Again.

Nothing. Nothing! NOTHING!

With a frustrated growl, she flopped backwards on her pillow. She really wanted to kick her feet in anger, but oh wait: she couldn’t! She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. The whole situation with her legs was bad enough, but she was getting so fed up with being alone in this room, bored out of her mind. While she was keeping herself busy switching out her hand for her various tools – just to check if they still work, as she told herself – a knock on the door roused her from her ‘maintenance’. “What!?” No idea why she felt like she just got caught doing something naughty.

The door opened and a familiar voice sounded. “Well, here I was hoping that the coma would have improved your attitude a bit, but alas…” Uzi commented with a grin as she walked in. V was surprised how cheery she seemed to be, despite one of her arms being in some contraption and resting on a sling.

“Purple thing, you still live!” V exclaimed, trying her best to sound casual, but unable to keep the genuine smile to flash across her face. “Where the goofball?”

“He wanted to come, but he promised dad that he would help him and the WDF with the cleanup today. He’ll be by later.” Uzi walked over to V and threw her good arm around her to hug her, which V, after a few moments of deciding between ‘acting like a bad bitch’ or ‘just go with it’, returned. “I’m so glad you’re awake. We – me and N - wanted to come over yesterday when we heard, but the nurses didn’t let us.”

“I thought I heard your annoying voice in the hallway, but I figured the night terrors were back again.” She could practically feel Uzi rolling her eyes, but they both chuckled. She brought her voice down to a whisper. “So, seeing Copper-9, the Colony and all of us are still alive and around …I take it that the Solver is…?”

Uzi nodded in V’s shoulder. “The Absolute Solver is destroyed. Gone. From me. You. N. No thirst or need to hunt. We won.”

“I’ll admit, having no desire to hunt down Worker Drones and drain them for their oil to sustain myself …is kinda nice. Still kinda weird not seeing Drones nearly soil themselves at the sight of me, though.” She patted Uzi’s back and gently pushed her off. “Okay, okay, get off. Don’t want people think we’re friends or anything.” She didn’t mean that, obviously. The road that their friendship had taken was rough – understatement of the year – , but she couldn’t deny that there was a bond between them and she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. She’d never say it out loud, off course.

Uzi snorted in amusement. “Please, with N and I visiting you pretty much every day since they brought you in, I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the Colony assumes that we’re besties.”

“Ugh, you really aren’t the type to use peppy slang like that, Doorman.” V teased back. “Leave that to the professionals, like Lizzie.”  

“Speaking of her ….” Uzi rested her good hand on V’s bed and leaned in close, grinning slyly. “She’s been visiting you pretty regularly as well. Almost more than me and N.”

“O-oh, really?” V asked, really wishing that the sub-routine that defined the intensity of her blushing wasn’t at 100% effectiveness right now. “I mean, cool. Didn’t know she cared.”

“Oh, I believe she cares more than you give her credit for.” Uzi teased, but keeping her voice gentle. No need to rattle the hornets’ nest too much. “She even skipped class a few times to spend the day here.”

V felt her visor heat up as she blushed. “Like that’s new. She would do that every other week, like it was the latest trend.” V countered, still blushing. Though, she did start skipping class more often after the whole prom thing and they started to hang out more. Luckily, Lizzy can afford missing a few classes, since she’s smarter than people would assume of her. She’s actually quite intelligent and pretty and funny and - Nope, not ready to deal with those emotions. Time to change the topic. V nodded towards the sling around Uzi’s arm. “Speaking of fashion: what’s with the accessory?”

Uzi, deciding to give V a little respite from the teasing, glanced at her sling and shrugged. “Let’s say that no-one got out of that last confrontation with the Solver unscathed.  Like, it really messed it us up. N and I still have regular repairs, as you can see.”

“Yeah, the doc mentioned it was pretty touch-and-go when they brought you two in.” V crossed her arms and looked away with a scowl. “At least you can get repaired.” She realized that she had muttered that a bit too noticeably and looked back at her visitor, grimacing when she saw Uzi’s regretful expression. “Sorry, I …ever since I woke up, things have been ….” She let out a heavy sigh. “Well, it’s been an ordeal.”

“I …I heard.” Uzi said as she took a chair and sat down, trying her best not to start staring at V’s legs. She cautiously reached out to V’s legs and placed her hand on them, glancing over to the former Disassembly Drone as if waiting for her to tell her not too. “Can the doctors do something about it?”

V rubbed her face, letting out a frustrated groan. “Yeah, a few, with chances of success of me walking again ranging from ‘a sliver’ to ‘cautiously optimistic’. My favourite treatment that they suggested to replace my legs completely with new ones.” She scoffed. “As my doc put it: ‘it has the greatest chance of restoring some of your mobility to the point you can be proficiently self-reliable.’.”

“That’s …good, right?” Uzi cautiously asked.

“I guess…”

“I’m …almost afraid to ask, but what about your wings? Couldn’t you…?”

V looked away, biting her lower lip. She hadn’t had the chance to really check up on her wing situation. She could still feel them, but she had a pretty good idea they weren’t in a great state either. At one point during her battle with the Sentinels, she had tried to fly up and get some higher ground, but the mechanical raptors had pulled her down, their metal teeth sinking in the metallic blades that made up her ‘feathers’. Even if the metallurgy surgeons could fix up her wings, she doubted that she would be able to use them without triggering seizures.

V stared in front of her as the conversation died down, leaving them sitting in silence. She looked up when she heard Uzi take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, V.” Uzi said, a digital tear forming under her eye.

“For what?” V asked, genuinely confused. “You’re not the one who did this to me?”

“Same thing.” The young Drone stated. She fidgeted nervously with the hem of her hoodie. “If I hadn’t- “

V’s hand shot out and grabbed Uzi’s wrist, pulling her close. “Let me make one thing clear, Uzi Doorman.” She stated sternly, holding a tight grip around the latter’s arm. “I made the choice to stay behind. The Sentinels would have gotten to you if I hadn’t and then Cyn, The Solver: they would have won.” She released Uzi’s arm and leaned back into her pillow. “And seeing that we’re all still around to feel sorry for ourselves, it was a good choice, no matter what has happened to me. So, stop feeling sorry for yourself, because I am not blaming you for anything. And you shouldn’t too.”

“But- “

“No buts, Purple Thing.” V interrupted. “I mean what I said. Yeah, this sucks. Yes, I’m sad. Yes, I’m angry. I am dealing with a lot of emotions while dealing with this whole situation, but …” She took a deep breath, and eventually produced a smile. “Do you really think I am going to let something like this hold me back? At all? I am going to conquer this. I am going to show my doctors, our friends, you, N and myself that I am strong enough to overcome this …however long it’s going to take.”

Uzi, after leaving her mouth agape for a few moments, wrapped her good arm around V and hugged her again. “Thank you, V.”

“You’re welcome, idiot.” She pushed Uzi off her with a grin.

Uzi leaned in close, bringing her voice to a whisper. “You know …Cyn mentioned a few times that she had backups of you guys. J got a new body after I killed her. Maybe Tessa- “

“No.”

“But- “

“No!” V repeated curtly.

“It would- “

“Uzi, listen.” V took a deep breath, folding her hands on her lap. “Don’t you think I’ve considered that possibility? It was probably the first things I’ve thought off. Call Tessa and let her put my brain in a new body, but …”

“But?”

“I’m scared, Uzi.” V confessed. “What if you put me in a new body and it’s not …’me’? What if I’ll reboot and it’s just a new psychotic murder Drone with the name ‘V’? I’m not taking that risk if it means that I’ll lose any sort of personal growth I made since coming here.”

“J got a new body, and she seemed like her annoyingly, holier-than-thou self.”

V scoffed. “That’s not saying much. I think ‘workaholic company worshipper’ is just her default personality.” She took a deep breath. “No, I’m done being a Disassembly Drone. Done being a constant reminder about having been a plaything for eldritch being that tells me who I am and what I need to do. I …I just want to be V, even if ‘being V’ means I’ll need to somehow live with this broken body.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Dead serious.” V answered with a steely gaze. She gave Uzi a sly grin. “However, if you ever see signs I actually regret, just repeat all that crap I said about ‘being strong’ and ‘plaything’.”

Uzi chuckled. “I can do that.”

“Attagirl.” V folded her hands behind her back and tried to relax into her pillow. She felt lucky her little rant hadn’t caused her to seize up, despite having felt her servos twitch a few times. She didn’t want to let Uzi see that. Uzi felt bad enough without having to witness that. When she was certain that Uzi wouldn’t bring up the topic again, she allowed herself to relax again and leaned back on her pillow. “I’ll tell you what, I’m going to miss flying, though.”

“Yeah, me too.” When V gave her a quizzical look, she shrugged. “No more Solver means that my mutations have vanished as well. Still, with N still having them, he’s been doing the flying for the both of us during our da-aaaaaah nothing!”

“No, no, I heard it!” V pointed out with a massive grin. “You were gonna say ‘dates’, weren’t you?”

Uzi blushed so hard that her visor almost become a floodlight, but she nodded with a giddy smile. “Okay, fine, yes: me and N are dating. Quite happily so.”

“Well, …about time. Honestly, seeing you guys fumble around each other like that was getting tiresome. I didn’t need a season 2 of that show.” V commented, relishing that she had found a new thing to tease Uzi with. “So, I take it that you finally got over your teenage angst and confessed first?”

“Uh, actually …N confessed first …technically.” Uzi corrected, blushing slightly.

“Technically?”

“Well, I’m sure it counts, but the moment sucked considering If was taken over by the Absolute Solver and it was fighting N and my mom.”

V froze. Did her audio receptors glitch or… “Did you say ‘mom’? As in: ‘your dead mom’?” She asked. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what, I’m done with the whole happy small talk. Can you please fill me in on what happened after I heroically sacrificed myself and ended up a Sentinel Tug-o’-war toy?” 

“Yeah, I guess I owe you that….” Uzi rubbed the back of her head, pondering on what to tell first. “There’s a lot, so …get ready.”

V listened as Uzi told what happened after she and the rest of the group had ‘separated’, and each new revelation was another kick in the face. Uzi told about how she had left Tessa and N behind after she started to get scared of what they might do to her. How she had found the video logs of the morally ambiguous and borderline cruel experiments JCJENSON had performed on the Drones infected with the Solver. How it showed Uzi and Doll’s mother being the last survivors of those experiments and that they both had a hand – no pun intended – in the core collapse that brought an end to the human civilization. About a critically injured Doll and how Tessa tried to kill her. About N trying to stop her and how their fight ended up in N stabbing Tessa through the chest.

She told V about how she had blacked out as the Absolute Solver finally took complete possession of her. How Nori stepped in to stop the Solver from killing N and their subsequent fight. The details of said fight were later told to the latter by N afterwards. How the Solver almost ate her mother’s core, but N’s confession of him and Uzi ‘hanging out’ brought her back.

V had to admit, the mental image of Uzi punting her mother into the Evil Pit™ and being so flustered by N that she only could screech was hilarious to her. Less hilarious was the revelation that Tessa not only had survived her stabbing, but everything she told afterwards. How she had survived the massacre in her childhood, how she had started working for the Humanity Remnant Government and her infiltration in JCJENSON. How they had found Cyn and everything that happened to her when she had confronted the possessed Drone. How the human ended up a flesh suit for Cyn’s core, changing her from the inside out, until she ended up half-Drone, half-human. She knew she had a bad feeling about Tessa from the moment she appeared on Copper-9, but after what Uzi had told the horrors the former had gone through, she only felt regret and sadness for the little girl that once took in broken Drones because she didn’t have any other friends.

She felt a sense of pride in her prey-turned-friend when Uzi told her how she sacrificed herself to the flesh pit and how she put her faith in N, just like V had once put in her. The rest of the story was pretty straightforward. N met up with J, who somehow had been fighting with Khan, Lizzy and Thad and how they managed to convince J to work together. From there, Uzi finished her story by recalling everything she went through to bring the fight to the Absolute Solver. A series of events so intricate, scary and a little wholesome that V almost had no time to understand it all. Somehow the group had found out that the JCJ scientists not only had made a patch to sever the Solver’s connection to a Drone, but they had also managed to produce a kill switch, but they never had been able to test it. After a lengthy ordeal, they had managed to reunite and get their hands on the Kill Patch. After that …

“And then …. everything happened so fast.” Uzi took a deep breath, wiping away a digital tear. “My mom went in to use the Kill Patch on the Solver, by stabbing it into its core. It just …screamed and thrashed around, like a feral animal trying to survive. Just explosions and rubble falling around us everywhere. I had lost my arm – again. N was on the brink of going offline. My mom …was nowhere to be found. We …we almost wouldn’t have made it out of there, if Tessa and J hadn’t picked us up in their pod.”

“J to the rescue …small miracles …” V muttered. “Jeez, seems I missed out on a lot when I was out. Then what happened?”

“Once we were in the pod, all of us – minus Tessa – started …changing. Me, N and J’s mutations just …painfully removing themselves from us. It nearly killed N. We thought he had gone permanently offline. I begged. I screamed.” Uzi blushed. “I told him I loved him. He woke up. We kissed.”

V jokingly made a gagging noise, with Uzi sticking her tongue out at her. “Anyway, Tessa and J dropped us off in the Colony for repairs, while Tessa covertly checked our code for traces of the Solver Code. A few days later, the WDF sent out people to find, uh …”

“My remains?” V asked with a smirk.

“Hey, we all assumed you were gone.” Uzi admitted sheepishly. “We were so happy when we got the message that you miraculously survived.”

“Yeah, I got a sneaking suspicion on who that miracle was …” She glanced over at Uzi, her expression dark. “What happened to Doll?”

Uzi shook her head, letting out a saddened sigh. “No idea. We haven’t seen her since that day in Cabin Fever Labs.” She admitted. “She vanished during the fight between the Solver, N and my mom. We first assumed that she went back to the surface to kill you, but …”

“Instead, she actually rescued me – most of me - from the Sentinels.” V crossed her arms. “I suppose I should be grateful that she had a change of H.E.A.R.T. and saved me from being robo-chew. And she hasn’t resurfaced?”

“Search parties have been looking for weeks.” Uzi explained. “From what we can see on security cameras, we know she came back to the Colony once to collect some of her things. But ever since that …nothing. Gone. Vanished from the face of the planet, it seems.”

“I guess after everything that has happened, she must have her own reasons.” V sighed, conflicted about her feelings regarding the Russian speaking Drone. Despite their animosity, she had risked her own life to save V from those Sentinels. Why save someone she hated? Why did she disappear? Maybe there would come a time that she would be able to ask Doll herself, but until then …there were other questions anyway. “What happened to Cyn and your mom? Is she …?”

“We haven’t seen Cyn’s core since it jumped into the flesh pit. We assume that the Solver assimilated her completely and …destroyed her. N has been looking for her, trying to find some trace of her, dead or alive.” Uzi clenched her eyes shut, but there was a hint of a hopeful smile on her lips. “As for my mom … We …we haven’t found her core yet. She might still be out there. In all the chaos when the Solver perished, we lost sight of her. There is a lot of rubble to sift through and the work is going slowly because those tunnels seem to stretch out across the entire planet. Maybe …” Uzi sighed and let her head hang.

V couldn’t imagine what Uzi was going through. She had wanted to know about her mom her entire life, and suddenly she was there and gone before she could spend time with her. V was a realist but she hoped there was a chance. Uzi deserved as much. She let out a breath, her mind still processing everything that Uzi had told her. “Man …it’s a lot.”

“Yeah …”

“One thing, though.” V commented as she sat up again. “From what my doc told me, I got the feeling you didn’t tell anyone else what you just told me. There were a lot of gaps and ‘fortunate coincidences’ in his story.”

“Yeah, we …we decided that it would be best if everyone was told a-“ Uzi bit her lower lip as she mulled over the right expression. “Better digestible story. Evil eldritch AI, cruel experimentation on Drones, borderline magic powers, possession, …it’s a lot to take in, and I lived through that.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Not only the colony, but Tessa had to tell the human Government she works for something as well. We feared that people would react …badly if they knew the full truth. So, we told them an abridged version, something that sounded more realistic.” Uzi wrung her hands together. “Knowing what the internet has told me about human history, they’d rather nuke the entire planet into space dust than risk happening something like this again. Tessa has enough evidence to put most of the blame on JCJENSON and divert any suspicion away from us.”

“Serves them right, from what I heard.” V scoffed. “They did experiment on a malevolent AI that already had destroyed their home planet, so I figure they get what’s coming to them.”

“I’m just happy that everything worked out and things are going back to n-“ Uzi stopped herself from finishing her sentence, guilt flooding on her visor.

V just rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to do this every time, aren’t you?” She asked, punching Uzi softly on her good shoulder. “Despite everything, it all worked out, right? Time to work to ‘the new normal’, right?”

Uzi giggled. “You sound like N.”

“Must be my medication.” V joked, making them both chuckle.

In the time that followed they fell into a relaxed conversation and if she was being honest with herself, she was grateful for the distraction. Despite all her talk about wanting to proof she was strong and that she would find a way to find closure on her situation …she’d been feeling miserable. She used to be such an independent Drone and now there was the possibility she’d never be able to do anything anymore without assistance. But she also didn’t want to just submit to these negative thoughts and feelings, because that wouldn’t do her any good. She was still processing everything and she had a feeling that would take a while. So she, for now, she gladly accepted the distraction and let Uzi drone on – no pun intended – about the changes that were happening in the Colony the last few weeks.

Once people finally started to believe that it was safe to venture outside, the first thing they did collect the fallen Drones that made up the corpse spires and give their processors a funeral. The rest of the bodies were either repurposed, recycled or scrapped for parts, which would sound weird for organic being, but for Drones was a traditional and sacred act. In the end, it would ensure that new Drone frames could be built for an eventual expansion of the Colony, now that the threat of the Disassembly Drones was over.

There was talk about reclaiming the Ruined City as their own and build something completely new. Something that wasn’t as cramped and packed as the Colony, but still provided the protection from the harsh climate of Copper-9.

People also seemed to warm up to N’s presence a lot easier than Uzi feared it would. N’s lovable goofball nature probably helped a lot, plus the fact that he was eager to help repair the damages that the latest near-end-times had caused. Uzi’s dad, much to her chagrin, had taken quite a liking to N, which meant he liked to barge in during the young couple’s alone time. It wouldn’t be so frustrating if N didn’t went along with it. She loved him, but jeez, he could be oblivious. Luckily, he was learning.

Uzi’s situation had improved. While Uzi and the rest of the ‘inner circle who knew’ decided that downplaying the situation would be better for the long run, it did have some rather unforeseen, yet positive consequences. Uzi was being heralded as the Drone that had made see the Disassembly Drones ‘see the error of their ways and turn against their genocidal masters’, and had a helped stop this threat despite the danger to her own life. Suddenly, people were lining up to thank her, invite her to parties and try to be friends with her.

“Wow, suddenly Miss Popular, huh?” V stated, grinning at Uzi’s embarrassed blush.

“Thing is, there used to be a time that I wouldn’t have liked anything else than that, but now….” Uzi chuckled sheepishly. “It’s not that I don’t like it, but it’s a bit much. It feels, like, …forced, or some jazz like that. Am I making sense?”

“Never.”

“Bite me.” Uzi stuck out her tongue, which V copied, making them both burst out in laughter. “Anyway, the only people who is actually feels genuine are Thad and-“

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Something in V’s chest buzzed when Lizzy peeked inside the room and smiled brightly as the latter noticed the former.

“It’s true…you’re finally awake.” Lizzy stated with a smile as she walked in. She gave Uzi a quick greeting. “Hi, Uzi. I, eh, left your homework at your place.”

“Thanks, Lizzy.” Uzi stood up from her chair and went over to give V a hug. “I’ll better get going.”

Lizzy suddenly looked flustered. “You don’t need to-“

“Nah, the two of you have some catching up to do, too.” Uzi said as she walked over to the door. She paused when she reached Lizzy and leaned over to whisper something in her ears. Lizzy, suddenly blushing, gave Uzi a playful push and whispered something back, which made the two girls giggle. With a final goodbye, Uzi made her way out of the room and let the two Drones alone in silence.

A few moments of silence passes, during which neither Drone seemed to know how to get the conversation started. Eventually, V started by clearing her throat. “So, uh …since when are you and Uzi so chummy?”

“Well, a lot happened. A lot changed.” Lizzy stated as she shuffled over to V’s bed, the latter noticing how meek and fidgety she seemed to act. “Let’s say that over the last few weeks, me and Uzi have gotten to know each other pretty well during our mutual visits here.”

V watched as Lizzy slowly made her way to the chair Uzi had occupied only seconds earlier, eventually slowly sitting down. Lizzie looked nervous, V noticed, the way her eyes darted around like she trying to figure out what she wanted to say first.

“Lizzy, are y-“

“I thought you were dead.”

V blinked a few times, staring at Lizzy, who had her eyes clenched shut while digital tear ran down her visor. “Liz, I-“

“When Uzi and N told me how you sacrificed yourself, I didn’t know what to think. How to feel.” Lizzy continued, not letting V get a word in. “I was …angry, proud, scared, sad and-and-and…and then suddenly, we get news that you were found, alive but non-responsive and I just felt so hopeless and mad, and I-”

V reached out and grabbed Lizzy’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “Lizzy, calm down, you’re going to blow your voice box.”

Lizzy’s gaze dropped to her and V’s hands, fixated on them for a few moments. She looked up, tears still staining her visor. “It’s just …finding out your bestie might be …gone, it ….it hurt, V. It really hurt.”

“What do you want me to say?” V asked softly, rubbing her thumb over the back of Lizzy’s hand. “That I’m sorry?”

Lizzy shook her head. “No, Uzi and N told me why you did it. You saved them. You’re a hero. Just …don’t do that again. Ever.”

She took a deep breath and brought V’s hand to her cheek, leaning into the latter’s palm, smiling as V’s thumb caressed her cheek. “I’ve spend so many days on this very chair, just …talking to you about my day, asking you to wake up and trying to come up with what I would say once you woke up.” She let out a soft scoff. “I actually prepared a speech. I made a list of what I wanted to say. I practiced in front of the mirror. I was ready. And here I am …and I can’t come up with any of the things I wanted to say to you.”

V rubbed her thumb over Lizzy’s cheek, smirking. “This is why I prefer actions over words, so there can be no mistakes about my intentions.”

“You know what…” Lizzy stated as a playful smirk formed on her lips. “You’re absolutely right!”

Lizzy threw her arms around V and embraced her so tightly, the latter thought she was gonna snap in half. “Ugh, easy, Lizzy.” She laughed as she returned the hug. “I’m still healing. If you’re not careful, I- “

A kiss on her cheek made her stop dead in their tracks.

“I missed you so much, V.”

A kiss on the other cheek.

“And I am so happy that you’re awake, I feel like I’m gonna blow a fuse.”

Gentle hands take hold of trembling ones. A kiss on the palm of V’s hand makes her gasp softly as something tickles down her spine.

“And I know you are hurting, but I am here.” The other hand gets a kiss. “So are Uzi and N.” A giggle. “But mostly, me.”

Lizzy seems to have crawled almost on top of V without her noticing. V feels her core work overtime as two hands tenderly hold the sides of her head, her vision filled with Lizzy’s pink eyes gazing warmly and lovingly at her. V swallows down a lump as a trembling hand reaches up to Lizzy’s cheek.

“I thought you didn’t know what to say?” V asked, not really knowing what to say herself as she feels her mind numb down.

Lizzy leaned in closer to V’s face, the distance between their lips slowly growing smaller with every passing second. A soft giggle escapes her lips. “I improvised.”

Feeling suddenly emboldened, V started to lean in as well pulling herself and Lizzy closer to one another, until-

KNOCK, KNOCK!

Both girls squeaked in surprise when a knock on the door interrupted their moment, with Lizzy, her visor blushing brightly, quickly jumping from the bed and straightening out her clothes and fixed her hair. V cleared her throat – her blush rivaling the one that Lizzy was sporting. She quickly glanced over at Lizzy, who just nodded and tried to keep her voice as even as possible. “C-c’mon in!��

The door opened and Doctor Steen walked in, his eyes glued to a clipboard. “Miss V, I hope you’re feeling-“ His eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw Lizzy standing there. “Ah, Miss Casio, I thought that we would see you here today. How is our patient doing today?”

“A bit grumpy, like usual.” Lizzy stated nonchalantly. V was impressed with how casually Lizzy was acting, like their little tender moment didn’t happen – or wasn’t unfortunately interrupted.

“That checks out….” Steen muttered. “I’m sorry to ask this but could you leave the room, Miss Casio? I need to discuss some things with my patient.”

“But Lizzy just got here.” V stated, hoping that she didn’t sound too desperate to keep her …friend here. “Can’t you wait a –“

Lizzy grabbed V’s hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “It’s okay, V” She assured with a smile and a wink. “I’ll be back later and we …can pick up where we left up then, okay?”

V really hoped her blush lines weren’t that visible. “Okay.” When Lizzy planted a quick peck on her cheek, she really had to muster up all of her remaining willpower not to giggle. She couldn’t help but smile as Lizzy joyfully skipped out of the room, giving V a last look before she closed the door behind her.

“Well, someone is happy that her friend is awake.” Steen stated, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I swear, she must have been visiting more and longer than your two other friends. You’re lucky to have them.”

“I certainly am.” V mumbled, before shaking her head to bring herself back to reality. “So …what do you wanna discuss, doc?”

“Well, I was wondering if you had given some thought about the options going forward?” He stated.

V looked down at her legs; still unmoving, still unresponsive. She had given it some thought, but the uncertainty of it all scared her. Just the possibility that her only options could just not work made her uneasy. But …she realized that she couldn’t just wait for a miracle. Lizzy was right, her friends were there for her and they would lend a shoulder if things got rough. And she had a feeling that things would get very rough, very quickly.

V took a deep breath and looked her doctor in the eyes. “I have and …I have made a decision.” She gripped her bedsheets as a tingle ran down her spine. “I want to have the surgery.”

“Are you certain?” The doc asked. “It’s fine if you want some more time to-“

“No, I’m certain.” V stated, her eyes beaming with renewed steely determination. “I’ll do the surgery. I want you to replace my legs.”

[yanderu-deredere]

I don’t know if you’re taking reqs or thirsts? So you don’t have to answer this, but how about a scenario with Fujio? His breeding kink just shining through. He has reader in a mating press and is just going at it. Anywho, I hope you have a good day and your blog is very aesthetic!! <3!!

a/n: alexa, play tik tok sound ive been waitin for this one! jokes aside loool thank you so much for this blessed ask forreal, i just love this so so much and i love being able to write for this bastard horny man! hope you likey? might make a not second part to this but like an alternate part where its dude darling... we'll see

warning: female parts and pronouns, slight implications of a chubbier reader, breeding kink, kind of a little bit of objectification and misogynism (references to women in the kitchen/in the household/as homemakers), degredation

fujio watanabe ★ profile

Honestly, Fujio didn’t know where this hunger came from. 

He had just come from work; he had lugged what felt like thousands of pounds of drugs and equipment through the docks, he was sweating and exhausted, and all he wanted to do was sleep for a hundred years.

Then, you came in like a mirage in the middle of a desert. You were in the kitchen with an apron tied around your waist, your hips swaying almost hypnotically and your voice humming melodically. 

It was like the first time he saw you.

If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve said that there was a spotlight shining on you, for Christ’s sake. There was just something about you cooking for him in his kitchen, so peaceful and happy, just there, in his house, after a day of him working so he could provide for you.

He groaned as he immediately felt himself chub in his jeans.

“Fuji?” You called out, not even turning around to look at him, too busy chopping something in front of you. He could hear the rhythmic thump of the metal against the cutting board. 

Instead of responding, he just dropped his duffel bag onto the floor and surged forward, ignoring his aching muscles in favour of satiating this new lust that he could feel filling his cock.

“How was work?” You asked him pleasantly, apparently unaware of the oncoming storm. 

It didn’t take long for you to figure it out, though, because he was immediately pressing his hard-on against your ass, grinding it between your cheeks as a way to relieve the burning ache as his fingers desperately worked to remove your pants.

“Fujio!” You dropped the knife to grab his wrists to stop him but, like always, the bull-headed man completely disregarded you.

Instead, he pressed a kiss to the back of your ear and then started mouthing at your neck “Missed you at work. Dunno, got really horny seeing you cooking.”

“What the hell does that mean!” You tried not to moan as he sucked a hickey into your skin but, instead of answering your question, he just pulled your pants down to your ankles.

You would’ve huffed indignantly at him but, before you could, he wrapped an arm around your waist and manhandled you to face the dining table. Then, with a broad palm, he pressed you down onto it, bending you forward.

“I can never get tired of this view.” Fujio chuckled as he thumbed his bottom lip before, just as hastily as he had dealt with your pants, he undid his, freeing his hard beefy cock and letting it bounce against your ass. 

“Now, le’see…” Without hesitation, his strong calloused hand cupped your thick thigh and raised it, propping it up onto the table so he could get to the real treasure.

“You complain too much for someone who’s drippin’, huh?” He chuckled in that arrogant way that made you want to kick him but, before you could really retort, he was already pressing a finger into your cunt, the stretch of it forcing your hips to flex a little bit.

There was no give, though. Fujio was nothing if not strong and you were held in place by both his body caging you in and his hand holding you down.

In fact, your squirming only succeeded in grinding you against him and that did nothing but rile him up. In retaliation, Fujio already instinctively knew how to crook his finger to make you absolutely gush. 

You whined and squirmed even more which, in turn, had him pushing another finger in you, plunging both of them as deep as they could go, scissoring them and stretching them apart to prepare your walls for his rather hefty dick.

The stretch, of course, teetered between pleasure and pain, in that area that pushed you closer to an orgasm but pulled you away from it all at the same time. It was a familiar sensation that Fujio loved to give you and that you, more or less, loved to receive. 

“You sure are wriggly today, huh?” He laughed again in that deep rumbling haughty way of his and then, suddenly, you felt his hand leave your back. Before you could rise, though, you felt the sharp sting of his palm against your ass.

You only had time to yelp before, again, you felt it on the other cheek and then, again, on the first cheek. Each time, Fujio could feel you clench so hard on his fingers that it made his dick throb painfully. 

While you were distracted with the painful tingle, Fujio pulled his fingers out, using his now soaked hand to grab his dick and guide them to your equally as soaked pussy entrance. He knew you’d yell at him for the inadequate foreplay but he was a man possessed and he needed to be in you like yesterday.

Without hesitating, he thrust his entire cock in you, relishing in the way your folds parted for him so easily. You let out a choked gasp that had him groaning into your throat.

Fujio’s cock always stung whenever he thrust it in on a good day and that was since he was just that big. But, without the proper preparation this time around, he leaned closer to pain than pleasure this time around. 

The fact that his fingers, now not so preoccupied with your pussy, focused on your clit helped a little bit, though. 

“God, I’ll never get fuckin’ tired of how soft ya’ are.” He muttered, sounding absolutely enamoured before he started pulling his hips back.

You let out a little mewling sob when he did, probably because it felt like he was pulling everything out with his thick cock, before choking out another gasp when he pushed it back in even faster. He gradually got faster and faster, his thrusts getting harder and harder til even the table was creaking under the both of you. 

“You know, bet this soft li’l pussy’d be perfect for a baby, huh?” He suddenly grunted into your ear, his chest suddenly pressing hard against your back and his arm wrapping loosely around your neck. He wasn’t suffocating you but he was definitely trapping you under him.

“Bet I could fill you--” He groaned low as he hit a particularly hard thrust “Bet I could fill you to the brim like the li’l cumdump ya’ are, keep you in the kitchen, make you the perfect li’l mommy?”

You tried your hardest to shake your head, your hands moving to claw at his arms at an attempt to get him to let you go but he just chuckled and kept fucking you like an animal, with just one thought in his mind.

“God, I can just feel your warm li’l womb try’na suck my cum out, baby.” He moaned, nipping at your ear before moving down to suck a hickey into your neck “You sure you don’t want it? Your pussy’s milkin’ me.”

Before you could even shout in argument, you were hit with a hard orgasm. Your nails dug into his skin, your entire body fighting to try and curl into itself. He laughed, the loudest he has since he’s gotten back, hearty and boisterous, like he’d just proven his point and, really, hadn’t he?

His thrusts renewed in vigour and, after a couple more, he finally did one strong push and came, his cum warm and sticky as it spurted inside you as deep as it could go.

As if to taunt you even more, he leaned down, arm still around your neck tightening just a bit “You’re mine, you breeding bitch. Remember that."

[carnivalcentipede]

[||⛓️||] The Carnival Rabbit Hole [||⛓️||]

hey, the names jax. i dont really have any nicknames besides cent and centipede so any of those work. im a jax fictive in a did system although if it wasnt obvious from everything about this blog my main source is carnival jax (share a source with the og one tho).

im mainly using this thing for reblogs of shit i enjoy but i will occasionally talk about system shit or post artwork ive made. feel free to stick along for the ride. just know i do not have a filter lmao

system talk will probably be tagged with #system stuff or something around those lines

artwork will be tagged with #centipedes cartoons

rants or text posts in general will be tagged with #chatting with centipede

stuff relating to friends is tagged with #creepy crawlies

reblogs wont be tagged unless i have a reason to have a reblog tag

one last warning: i am a massive bug lover and will probably have a lot of bug related stuff on my blog

boundaries and shit below

do not treat me like my source. im ok with talking about tadc shit and some of the more light hearted carnival au stuff but i am not the character. i just have memories from it

if you know our hosts og blog do not go around telling people about it. we'd rather people not know hes a system which is why im not disclosing shit about that part

do not vent to me. i am not your therapist. i am a 22 year old (bodily 19) rabbit guy on the internet. i could give less of a fuck about your issues because i have my own shit to deal with

i am completely fine with playful flirting and anything related to that but please be aware i am gay. it does give me more bragging points towards zooble tho that i have bitches thirsting for me /lhj

ligma balls

i will block you or use you as my verbal punching bag if you cross any of these boundaries and im feeling spicy. thats your only warning lmao

[mothgodofchaos]

Is it possible you could do a yandere HeeHoo x gender neutral reader where they're like a cryptid hunter and such who's trying to prove HeeHoos existence but it dosen't go quite as planned bc heehoo killed the rest of the readers team

Research

Heehoo x GN!Reader, TW: yandere, possessiveness, death, blood, kidnapping Words: 591

You’ve been out here in the middle of the jungle for a couple months now, gathering research for your thesis on cryptozoology. You thought there was no better way to make a name for yourself in the cryptid community than to prove the existence of one of the most elusive creatures in the world. Heehoo. A large fifteen foot humanoid with seemingly primitive levels of intelligence and a supposed thirst for blood. A dangerous creature for sure, but the risk for notoriety at this point is worth it. A few research teams have gone missing in the area, no conclusive evidence as to what happened to them other than the carnage of a few campsites found in the depths of the woods.

True rest of your team came with you with only one goal, to kill Heehoo. No greater evidence than bringing him in, and he’s far too dangerous to be brought in alive. It feels like a military camp, walking around and seeing the gross amount of weapons and traps everywhere. You disagree with their methods, but it was the only way you were given any grant money to do this research. You brought food for lures, hoping to capture pictures or collect other evidence of his existence.

Since you’re already well aware of the risks, going out alone doesn’t scare you nearly as much. You already know this trip is essentially a death sentence. But maybe someone will find your camera. You get to the clearing you found, bags of takis and slabs of meat in the center, and set yourself up for the night to watch from your hiding spot. Your camera is ready, as well as several others you’re monitoring on your tablet.

After a few hours, you hear gunfire and screaming. You sprint back to camp, finding the rest of your team brutally murdered and partially dismembered. Most of your supplies are smashed and broken. The hair on the back of your neck raises, backing away slowly until you hit something. Heavy breathing and growls is all you can hear over the sounds of the forest. Slowly looking up, you are face to face with Heehoo, and he doesn’t look happy.

“FUCK-“

You try to run, but you’re quickly grabbed around the waist and picked up, held at eye level for him. Your arms are pinned, unable to reach your camera.

“…mate.”

Heehoo nods to himself, throwing you over his shoulder by your ankles, leaving it impossible for you to right yourself. While you’re grateful he hasn’t given you the same fate as the rest of your team, a different kind of fear sets in.

“N-No, no mate-“

“Mate. Mine.”

You shudder, feeling his grip tighten around your ankle. Your ankle pops from all the pressure, and no amount of kicking with your other foot is making him let go. You don’t know how long you’ve been walking for, but he brings you into a cave. There’s stockpiles of food, a large nest of various materials, and what looks to be the discards of old trapping attempts. He sets you down on the nest, taking a shackle and putting it around your ankle. He then wraps it around a rock, keeping you on a very short tether.

“Stay. Heehoo care.”

“I-I can’t li-ive like this-“

“Stay.”

Seems as though you don’t have a choice. But he seems pleased with his hunting prize. It’s only a matter of time before you lose yourself to wilderness madness, and you fear that it may be sooner than you think.

[rewin-d]

Bread

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader

WARNINGS: Sappy

A/N: I got a free loaf of bread and was excited so I called my boyfriend about it and he never picked up, he never does. I think he's embarrassed of me. He never comes over.

The last customer left the store and you threw your hand up, stretching them out, popping a few bones. A satisfied sigh and moan left your lips, you look around and start cleaning up a little.

...

You finished cleaning and put the wipes aways under the front desk then walked to the break room and grabbed a water bottle, you were about to take the most scrumptious thirst quenching sip after only drinking sodas until you heard footsteps. You set the water bottle on the table and walk back out to the front.

"Hi welcome to-" the lady jumped a little and you apologized for the scare you gave "What brings you today ma'am?" The lady clears her throat and starts rummaging through her bag.

"Nothing really just wanted to let you know that I'm the owner of the bakery that's behind the building and I'm giving out loafs to the locals! I just opened and this is my way of getting people to come!" She smiled and handed you a thick round loaf of bread. You smile widely and thanked her before she left.

When the door closed you ran for your phone and dialed your boyfriends number. The phone ringed for a few seconds before you heard the familiar accent

"I am a little busy at the moment mío amore-"

"Ah, I just wanted tell you that got a free loaf of bread"

"Huh?"

You walked to the break room and sipped on your water before repeating yourself "I got free bread and I was thinking of making some soup but I don't know what kind to make-"

"That one you made last time I visited- the eh, what was it? Ah broccoli cream!"

"Ooh- I can do that! But I'm just missing some black peper-"

"Don't worry about that, I'll pass for it after the meeting I'm in-"

"I'll call you back in a bit then?" Copia nodded over the phone before realizing it was a voice call and not a video call "Ah- si! And I will also give you a call when I pass by il mercato if you need anything else" you giggled a little "You're to sweet- oh I got another customer! I'll talk to you later- bye love you!"

"Ciao ti amo anch'io!"

Later on in the evening you and your ani-pope boyfriend enjoyed a nice soup with bread and wine along with a movie marathon.

A/N: Sorry it was sappy but I was just feeling like that today and here's the bread I got today :]

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Misty, chapter x (the end)

chapter i | chapter ii | chapter iii | chapter iv | chapter v | chapter vi | chapter vii | chapter viii | chapter ix | chapter x

Read on Ao3

Rating: Explicit (whole thing)

Fandom: Prospect

Pairing: Snowman!Ezra x f!reader (monsterfucker au)

Tags: it’s basically monster fucking but with a snowman which could technically be classified as a monster i guess?, gothic horror kind of, sorrow, dementia, anxiety, dog murder, masturbation, Frankie thirst, pet murder, racism mention, huge age gap, implied possible sexual abuse of minor, spookiness, PiV sex with an actual snowman, possible hallucinations, hypothermia, Frankie yearning, the spookiness continues, More dog murder and implied sexual abuse of a minor, implied illegal abortion, adulterous kissing, lots of crying.

Chapter warnings in addition to the above mentioned: Character death.

Summary: Escaping your empty apartment after having been dumped by your fiancé, you rent a cottage at Oakgrove House over Christmas to nurse your wounds. But strange things seem to happen at the estate, where an old woman wanders around in search of old friends long gone, and snowmen appear as if by themselves on the lawn…

Chapter word count: 1,985

A/N: You know what the problem is when you start a fic, write on it for a couple of weeks, then leave it be for the next eleven months or so? You forget the original idea. (Unless of course you were smart enough to write down the entire synopsis, which of course I wasn't.) This is a very different fic from what I wanted to write during Christmas of '21. But sometimes change is good, I guess. Thank you, readers! The epilogue is for you.

Tagging: @harriedandharassed @paulalikestuff @pazizz @lovesbiggerthanpride

You wake up on the couch with no idea how you made it there. Curled up against the cushiony seat and with a blanket thrown over your naked form, you slowly blink your eyes open. The first thing that you notice is that there is sunlight rippling in through the window. You have not seen the sun in weeks, it seems. But there it is: a faint, end of December sunlight that tells you that it is late in the morning, and you need to move on. The official check-out time is noon, but Denise had told you when you spoke to her over the phone that one hour here or there does not matter. You have to clean up, however.

Stretching out carefully, you notice the light scratch of the wool blanket on your skin. You're naked, but warm and comfortable. There is a soft beat in your pelvis, like little tremors lingering after an earthquake. You recognize it as the aftermath of an orgasm but have never experienced it so long after the actual event.

Last night comes back to you and brings a smile to your lips. You have no fear, no disgust, no confusion. Everything seems crystal clear, and you feel amazing, filled with new energy and hope. You get up and take a shower, enjoying every single drop of water washing away anxiety and dust. You take the showerhead in one hand and direct it between your legs as you brace yourself against the wall with your other hand, head thrown back with a low moan as you give yourself the quickest orgasm you've ever had. Positively glowing, you dry yourself off and look at yourself in the mirror. Your face does not seem to match up with your mood: you have dark bags under your eyes, your skin is pale, almost ashen, and the lines you have seem deeper. Not letting that affect you, you get dressed and start to clean up the place. You do it humming, and on light feet, as if a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

The photographs and the letter are put back in the attic, right where you found them. They are not yours to keep. You make sure the bookcase looks untouched, the postcards back in their hiding places. As you sweep the floors, you have time to think about what happened last night, the revelations that had been shared with you.

Ezra was not innocent, despite his willingness to help Olga. He knew about her feelings, her age, and he exploited her. He could have helped her get the abortion without asking for anything in return. He manipulated her into killing her dog just to see if she would do it. You know this. You have had him inside of you and you know his mind, for it has been inside yours. He was untamed and complicated, the blurry grayness between the boring absolutes of black and white.

Maybe the killing of Snowflake prepared Olga for what she might have to do one day. Maybe it was Ezra's way of helping her beyond what he himself was willing or able to do. For reasons unknown, he never intended to take her with him, you know that now. Maybe he gave her the next best thing: a capacity for death.

Fifteen minutes past twelve, you put your bag into the trunk of your car and brush the snow off the vehicle before walking up to the main house to leave the key. The sunlight has diminished slightly by now and clouds are gathering again, but that does not affect your mood. You're excited to return home, get rid of the apartment and move into a new one, one that's not sullied by the memory of your treacherous ex. The rat, with its sharp teeth and claws red of your blood, is gone from inside your ribcage, and you are going to leave it behind, run over it when you drive away from Oakgrove.

Denise answers the door and you can immediately see that she has been crying.

"Oh, right, you're leaving," she says, as if she had completely forgotten about you. Accepting the key, she takes a deep breath.

"Mom died last night."

Your mouth falls open. "Oh. Oh... I'm sorry. That's... but she was out only yesterday?"

"Yes, know," Denise acknowledges. "We had dinner and then she went upstairs for a lie-down. Later when I went to check on her, she had passed away. In her sleep, apparently. The ambulance was here around nine, you didn't notice?"

You strain to remember what time it had been when you had seen Olga and Ezra last night, but you have no idea. Did you catch a glimpse of the clock when you used your phone as a flashlight in the attic? Not that you can remember.

Your face must have betrayed something, because Denise tilts her head.

"Are you okay?"

It is ridiculous that she, who just lost her mother, should ask that of you, so you hurry to nod.

"Yes, I'm just... she seemed well enough yesterday. I'm so sorry."

"I feel bad for thinking it," Denise confesses with a grimace, "but it feels like it's better this way. She never had to end up in an institution. If her dementia had progressed, she would have become too much for me. She could die in her own bed, in her home."

A sad little smile plays on her lips. "She never left home, you know. Grew up here, never went anywhere, not even vacation. She always wanted to stay close to home."

You swallow, casting down your eyes.

"Did she have siblings? Maybe someone who's still alive?"

Denise shakes her head. "She had a brother, but he died young. Some kind of accident, she never spoke about it."

Your bright mood darkens and your stomach twists. Olga's daughter does not know what you know. It seems unfair, but how could you ever tell her? How could she ever believe you?

Expressing your condolences once again, and thanking Denise for the rent of the cottage, you finally turn around and walk to your car. Thoughts spin around your head and you try to lay them to rest with Olga. There is nothing more you can do but return home and live in the knowledge that half a century ago, something horrible happened here and this Christmas, you found out what that was through a series of inexplicable events.

If anything of is it true, that is. You have the words of an old woman with memory disease, and the gestures of a ghost. A fucking ghost, who possessed a snowman that you can find no traces of. A snowman that had sex with you.

Your good mood is gone and instead, you feel light-headed. The sun is obscured by dark clouds, and a couple of snowflakes come dancing down. Before you've reached your car, it's coming down as thickly as it did a few days ago, when you arrived. Before you get into the car, you look around you, maybe expecting the snowman to still stand on silent guard somewhere. But there is nothing but snow covering a front garden. The windows of the picturesque little cottage are dark. You glance up at the attic window, maybe expecting to see something up there. What, you don't know.

Eventually, you brush the snow off of your coat, and get into the car. Adjusting yourself on the seat, you frown when your coat gets stuck uncomfortably under you. Lifting your ass, you reach underneath you to smooth the fabric out, and your hand touches something hard.

It's a leatherbound diary. When you open it, you see Olga's name written on the first page, along with the letters, photographs, and cards that you found. The date of the first entry is the first of May 1952.

You look around you, check the mirrors, but of course you see no one. Putting the diary on the seat next to you, you start the car and back out of the driveway. You’ll read it when you come home. Maybe.

When you reach the junction where the road divides into a smaller section that leads to the lake, and the main one continues away from the house, a small, white dog runs right in front of your car. You step on the breaks with a startled shout, and the car comes to an abrupt stop. You weren't going fast, thankfully, but your heart is beating as you put the car in park and unbuckle your seatbelt to go out and have a look. Before you have opened the door, however, you see the animal by the roadside. It's a rabbit in its white winter coat. Its black eyes glare accusatorily at you before it hops off. You stare after it as your heart slows down, and for a moment you half expect to hear Olga's haunting cry for her pet.

But there is only silence, save for the whir of the heater. When your legs have stopped shaking, you release the handbrake and gently press down on the gas pedal. For the last half mile before the county road, you drive slowly through the falling snow, checking the sides of the road but seeing nothing more. When you reach the end of the private road and hit the turn signal, you're met by a pickup truck that slows down enough for you to catch Frankie nod at you through the window. Before you can nod back, he's away towards the house.

Speeding on the county road, Ezra's smirk haunts your rear-view mirror. You put on the radio and block him out, focusing instead on what lies ahead.

I can't find him Misty... Oh, please, can you help me? He must be somewhere Open window closing Oh but wait, it's still snowing If you're out there I'm coming out on the ledge I'm going out on the ledge

Kate Bush: Misty

epilogue

Winter has turned into spring when you're packing up the last boxes in your old apartment, the one that you shared with your ex. In your pocket burns the keys to your new place, your very own place, where your own bed, a brand new one, waits to embrace you.

There is a knock on the door, and you almost skip to the door, expecting your friend to come and help you carry your belongings. But it's not her, but Frankie, the gardener from Oakgrove House.

"Hi," he smiles bashfully, clearly awkward with the situation, yet there is a hopeful glint in his eye.

"What... what are you..."

"I know. It's bad, isn't it?" He pulls the baseball cap off his head and scratches his hair.

"How did you find me?"

"I asked Denise. Said I found something in the garden when the snow melted, something that belongs to you."

"Did you?"

"No."

"What do you want, Frankie?" You are now alarmingly aware of how inappropriate this is, and Frankie seems to be thinking the same.

"I wanted to see you."

"Here I am," you state dumbly. He chuckles low, but his eyes have a dark intensity to them as he looks at you.

"Here you are."

"And where is your wife and kid?" you ask harshly. Frankie casts down his eyes and clears his throat.

"At home. I mean... at her home. She filed for divorce between Christmas and New Year."

You want to say you're sorry, but that would be a lie. Frankie shakes his head.

"It was stupid of me to come here. I'm sorry."

He turns around abruptly and starts to walk away. You take a step out.

"Frankie?"

He stops and turns around. "Yes?"

"You good at carrying boxes?"

His smile is a little lopsided, but warm.

"I get by."

You wave at him to follow you, then return inside.

[gltzpzy]

at least u getting some, my virgin ass just thirst over men I can't have and fictional men. Yes I'm 18+.

at least im happy tho. Problems come with 'men'. IF i ever find one, his donkey dick will submit TO ME. I swear on it.

Nah I don't, I'm too shy and insecure.

😭😭😭 anon i still thirst over fictional men & men i can’t have ur not alone (looks directly at peter b and miguel)

no SAME tho, ive convinced myself that any man i bagged would b submitting to me but nope. this guy literally makes me feel so small and girly in the best way possible. like last night when he was reversing his car and placed his hand on the back of my car seat i literally crumbled and exploded AND HE DIDNT EVEN DO ANYTHING😭😭😭😭

but if miguel was real, he’d be submitting to me 100% *BIG LIE DETECTOR BUZZES LOUDLY*

[lemonwrap]

Teeth & Tongues - Chapter 20

A very short chapter, but a chapter nonetheless.

Read it on Ao3!

Consciousness comes back to Soap slowly. For a few moments, he lays there, taking stock of his tired, aching body, eyes still closed as if sleeping. He blinks open his eyes and looks around, groaning softly. 

He’s in the infirmary. It’s not rare for him to visit an infirmary, as he was injured occasionally on missions, but it is rare he wakes up in one. It’s completely empty, minus one filled bed across the room, where there’s a sleeping form, and the lights are dimmed somewhat. A machine next to him quietly beeps, rhythmic. He swallows dryly, throat clicking, looking down. 

Ghost is there, the upper half of his body laying on Soap’s bed near his feet while still sitting in a chair he had pulled up to the bed. He nearly looks to be asleep. It’s endearing. He’s changed out of his gear and into a plain black balaclava, down to his civvies, although Soap can almost guarantee he probably still has a knife or gun on him. 

In contrast, Soap is ass naked, only dressed in a hospital gown, but at least he’s covered by a scratchy blue blanket. An IV is taped to his hand, on the same side as his injured shoulder. Shit, his shoulder. He had been shot. By Roba. The whole mission comes flooding back—the mansion, the jungle, the blood, the sharp pain of being shot. The pain is a distant thought right now. They must have him on some good shit, he thinks distantly. 

He raises a weak hand, the one not connected to an IV, to touch his bandaged shoulder and alerts Ghost, who grabs his hand in his own to prevent him from messing with it. Ghost lets him go in an instant, though. Soap wants him to put his hand back so he can hold it, wants to feel that warmth again. 

How are you feeling? Ghost asks him, and he seems worried. Soap can understand why. Watching Soap pass out from blood loss probably isn’t his fondest memory of their time together, he wryly thinks. 

“Thirsty,” Soap croaks out, instead of saying something normal, like “I’m fine”. His throat is dry and his mouth tastes like utter shit. Ghost gets up, stretching somewhat, and goes to the bedside table. There’s a pitcher of water and a glass that Soap hadn’t noticed until now. He’s much thirstier than he’d originally thought. When Ghost hands him the glass, Soap takes it and swallows the water in great gulps, trying to quench his thirst. 

Slow, Ghost scolds lightly. Soap only slows down slightly, too thirsty to properly listen. The water is cool and incredibly refreshing and he finishes it quickly, setting the cup down on the table. His shoulder aches a little as he moves. 

“Thanks,” Soap says, voice much clearer now that he’s had a drink. Upon closer inspection of Ghost, his brown eyes are underlined with heavier bags than usual. 

“How long have you been here?” Soap questions.

An hour or two, Ghost replies. Soap is a little touched, honestly. Ghost could’ve easily stayed in their room and slept, even if just for a little bit. Soap had to have been out for more than just an hour or two. Ghost has to be tired after their mission, and yet…

“You stayed,” Soap says, smiling wearily. “So you do like me.” 

Ghost rolls his eyes, but in an amused way, mirthful. Maybe. 

Soap’s mind goes to Roba and he becomes silent again. The bastard is dead, finally, and Ghost is free from his influence. What would he do now? Where could he go? As far as Soap knew, Ghost was a dead man, essentially. Still a ghost. But at least the worst was over, right?

“You did good,” he says after a few minutes. “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.” 

It was still my fault you got shot, Ghost says, looking incredibly guilty, like a dog that ate food off of the table. His eyes flick up to meet Soap’s. Soap just wants to hold him, tell him that it was okay, that he is fine and would continue to be. It was part of the job, after all. Soap would do it all again if it meant he could keep Ghost away from Roba. 

“Stop it,” is what he says instead. “Shit happens.” 

I know, but—

“C’mere,” Soap says before Ghost can finish his train of thought and blame himself even more. “Just stay with me.”

Ghost stays.