#trying to grasp my sanity here

[lmaowhatt]

"can we please go?" - jj m.

summary: jj, ever the hormonal young adult, cant wait long enough for the two of you to get home from a party at the boneyard.

set: a short time after the pogues return from south america, probably between the 18 month time jump of s3 and s4. however, for my sanity, and some of yours, s4 doesnt exist.

pairing: jj maybank x pogue!reader

warnings: jj begging(?), horny/clingy jj, foreshadowing to sex.

if theres any others feel free to comment them!

the party at the boneyard, which now seemed like an annual occurrence had been in full swing for a couple of hours. the sun had fallen well below the horizon, the moonlight providing just enough light for the inexperienced —now drunk— tourons and some tipsy locals to move around without bumping into one another.

the seven pogues had split up somewhat early into the party. jj was currently hanging around some of his surfer friends, laughing and joking about . pope and cleo relished in their time where the other pogues were distracted to walk along the shore together.

kiara was sat on a log, talking to a random touron girl who you and sarah had both urged her to go talk to, teasing her about always sulking at home, being the last single one of the group. after some reluctance and continuous badgering from you, she agreed.

john b had distanced himself slightly, still rightfully sulking over his fathers passing during their return from south america. sarah had regularly gone to check on him, making sure he was okay before going back to where you stood, continuing the previously halted conversation.

jj glanced around the party, moving to fix the clasp of the flimsy shark tooth necklace that has somehow survived through everything the young adult had been through during the past two-ish years as his eyes landed on you. the boy bit the inside of his cheek as he shamelessly let his eyes wander down your body.

a pink spaghetti strapped top, the hem of which stopped right above your diaphragm, overlayed with a white knitted halter top. a blue ankle length skirt hung low on your waist with a small silver belt serving as a contrast to your gold dangly earrings, a mix of dainty silver and gold necklaces of different lengths hanging around your neck.

jj bit the inside of his cheek, watching your boobs bounce slighty as you laugh along to a joke sarah said, taking a sip of the beer in your grasp. he cleared his throat as he looked down at his feet, dragging a hand through this messy blonde locks, before placing his signature red cap backwards on his head.

"yo jj," one of his friends, jace, slapped the back of his shoulder to grab his attention. "you good?" the boy asked, furrowing his eyebrows as jj looked up from the ground. jj cleared his throat once more, trying to will away the waver he knew would be there as soon as he spoke.

"yeah, uhm. im good man." the blonde nodded, dapping jace up and waving a lazy hand to the others near him, "im gonna go, hit me up this weekend." jj spoke, fixing his shorts and rolling his shoulders back, weaving through the crowd as he made his way towards you.

you stumbled forward slightly as jj wrapped his arms around your shoulders, cradling his head down and placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "hi mama," he mumbled below your ear, raising his eyebrows at sarah as a form of greeting.

you placed a hand on his forearm, holding it as you rolled your eyes playfully at sarah. "hi baby. you okay?" you asked, smiling at sarah as she excused herself to 'find john b.' you sighed, leaning back ever so slightly as jj began peppering soft kisses onto your neck and along your collarbone.

"can we go home?" he muttered in between kisses. you laughed softly, turning to face him as his lips detached from your soft skin. jjs eyes naturally wandered to your chest, which was more accentuated as it pressed against his.

you snapped your fingers near his face, "eyes up here, maybank." you smiled as his eyes eventually flickered up to yours, his arms loosely wrapping around your waist. he let out a soft whine, "please baby? this.." he huffed out a heavy breath, forcing his eyes to stay locked on yours. "this outfit.. definitely one of your best. can we please go?" he asked with pleading eyes.

you tilted your head with a smirk playing at your lips, "but the party only started a while ago, you dont have friends to catch up with?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and watching as he bit the inside of his cheek softly in thought.

he eventually shook his head. the boy didnt have a valid reason whatsoever, he just wanted to spend some 'quality time' with you, away from the others of course. "they can wait. this cant baby." he said, motioning towards them, then towards you and him with his finger.

you sighed as you looked around at the party. sure, you were having fun after going through weeks, if not months of hell with the entire el dorado situation, and the entire 'being hunted for weeks' situation.

you looked back at jj, whos eyes hadn't moved from your features. with a soft sigh, you silently agreed, taking a hold of his hand and leading him to the twinkie which was parked on the side of the street. jj moved to wrap his arms around your shoulders as you walked the both of you to the twinkie. "i love you much, yknow that?" he whispered into your ear.

just as you went to talk, he interrupted once more. "not for this. trust me, its a perk alright, but i love you for you." he kissed your neck softly. "i love you for how you treat me," he sucked lightly. "i love you for how you treat our friends like family." he swiped his tongue over the small bruise.

"i just love you."

a/n: this is my first ever fic on tumblr so pls be nice. or dont 😭

[toji-bunny-girl]

subby panty sniffer loser!shigaraki i cant stop thinking abt 😖

Shigaraki has always hated you.

Ever since All For One brought you in, and your jaded eyes first met his—you’ve always goaded an odd, frustrating burn in him. At first, you both merely ignored each other’s presence. And he has always preferred that. Then things soon got annoying when you started cozying up to him and trying to be friends with him. It’s fucking irritating and the burn gets worst the closer you press yourself into his space.

All it took for you to switch it up was his unrequited demeanour to your friendliness. It’s a bit too easy, really. A harsh word or two and a sneer at your face already got him on your bitch-list—just like everyone else would.

Everybody’s the same.

And you’re nothing special. That’s what he tells himself, repeatedly, over the years. Even when the glow in his belly comes alive whenever you brush pass him, his eyes memorised the curves of your grown body behind the curtains of his shaggy hair and god—the sweet, head-spinning scent of your underwear that sends his nerves tingling.

Yes, you’re nothing but a pest. A pest who always leaves her clothes in the laundry room, and often finds her panties gone without a trace.

Stupid and forgetful and—

“What…the hell?”

The hair on his nape flew erect, prickly dots snaked beneath his skin in a shot the moment he heard your voice—laced in utter disbelief and disgust.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You weren’t supposed to collect your laundry this early yet. Weren’t you supposed to be training with All for One?!

“So, you’re the panty thief?” you sneered at him, the same way he would at you. You would’ve never in a million years even think of the scene in front of you—Shigaraki Tomura, who openly despises you, rubbing his cock with your panty? “What a joke.”

His pale face grew crimson red from the blood that rushed through his pulsing veins, his pride ripped from his clutch with every blink of your eyes soaking the embarrassing sight of him. God, he wanted to die right then and there. He shouldn’t have initially neared your laundry before, he should’ve ignored the tugging burn that urged him to touch the remnants that enveloped your bare body, and you shouldn’t have came here in the first place!

His thoughts are chasing after his sanity, and his heart threatened to beat its hard last. You’re nearing him and his sweating form with every dreadful step, and his body had the guts to feel…excited—his cock throbbed and the familiar burn came roaring through his vessels again.

Just what are you doing to him?

You snatched the damp piece of underwear from his grasp, soaked with his sticky precum, and his cockhead twitched from the lost warmth that previously hugged his shaft.

He’s now bare, blood continued to pump his cock hard as you stared at the mere size of his—length and girth you’d never thought would be hiding behind his dirty clothes; tip flushed in a pretty shade of pale pink, and veins that stemmed from the bush of light blue. His heartbeat thumped loud in his ears as you looked, and he almost lost of your words from the beating.

“Is this some kind of perverted hobby you have? I always knew you’re weird, but not to this extent,” you threw your underwear aside before shoving him, his back roughly bumped into the wall behind. Fuck, he doesn’t know what to say—and what to do other than to watch how you’re reacting to this twisted mess.

You’re staring at his twitching cock when his gaze flickered to your face, his hot panting hazed the air and it scorched your cheeks in a burnt shade. What are you thinking?

“It’s only fair for me to touch you after you’ve been jerking off to my panty, right?” it’s almost a reassurance for your own self than to him. His eyes widened, pupils dilating as you wrapped your hand around his throbbing member.

“W-What are you doing?!” he bit his bottom lip to muffle a moan, fingers curling into fists against the wall, nails poking into his flesh.

“Entertaining myself with a freak like you,” you snickered, stroking his veiny shaft with your cold fingers. Shigaraki shuddered to your touch, the nerve-numbing burn soaring through his stomach as his chest rose and fell quicker by the second.

“Get your d-dirty hand off of me,” his breath hitched as he stretched his throat, pushing his head against the cool wall. His toes curled as you pumped his length, and his nerves tingled from the sight of you staring at his cock with that look in your eyes.

“You seem to enjoy it, hm? I thought you hated me, I can’t believe you’ve been busting over my fucking panty. Do you have a crush on me or what?”

“Y-You…hngh—bitch!”

“I didn’t know a mutt could talk…much less call me a bitch?” your grip tightened, unforgivingly so around his slippery cockhead, earning a pretentious grunt—which tumbled out of his chapped lips in the form of a pathetic moan. “What was that? You sound like a little girl,” his cheeks burned in embarrassment as you made fun of him, your snickers ringing in his hazy mind, taunting the pleasure that piled over his nerves. “I want an apology, you perverted loser.”

“N-No way—nngh!” Shigaraki’s sweat-glazed body jolted from every painful twist of your fingers, his thighs shaking from the way you’ve been abusing his cock; flashes of bloody ruby glinted from behind his greasy bangs. It’s funny, really. He thought he looks all fierce and intimidating when actually, he’s nothing but a slutty mess holding back his drool.

“It’s not a fucking request,” your hand wretched his face closer to yours, his eyes nearly melting under your flinty gaze.

“F-Fuwah—aanh!” his hips drew backwards in creeping sensitivity, and a loud slick sound bounced off of the lewd-seen walls as your nails flicked in contact with his twitching red tip.

“You know I’m impatient, hm? So hurry,” your thumb hastily rubbed over his leaking slit, splattering his pre-cum all over the both of your clothes. His body shook into your arms, jerking and whining as his hands scrambled to hold onto you for support.

“Mmmgh! Haa—” his weight slopped onto your body, and his heavy head rest against your shoulder as you continued to stoke his throbbing fat girth with your tightening grip. “So—aangh! S-Sorry, m’sorry!”

“Aww, who knew you’d sound cute when you all whiney,” your other hand rose to tilt his chin, his ruby eyes glistening with tears of desperation, drool slipping past his mouth as he clenched his teeth. “What a pathetic face.”

His hips pistoned into your hand, clumsily rocking forward and messing up the fine rhythm of strokes you had, his moans sounding more and more breathy—you could tell he was at the near edge. Drawing your face closer to him, your soft lips met his cracked ones just as a crooked cry leaped out of his dry throat, and you could feel his hot cum shooting onto your shirt, staining your top white with the smell of him.

Shigaraki stayed unmoving, merely gulped as you licked and wet his lips with your tender tongue, your saliva mixing and dripping down his chin. The burn in him wasn’t just a flame anymore, it had exploded into chains of reaction—his heart squeezed and insides bursted into a sloppy, chaotic mess.

Does he have a crush on you?

[lovingjingyuan]

Hi!! I've been reading your first for awhile and I think you're such a great writer and I was wondering if I could request a yandere Sunday/welt/jingyuan/blade where the reader has depression and how they'd handle it? You could add anything you like :) thank you!

Thank you sm for the compliment. I'm so glad someone enjoys my works <333 Tbh I don't find my writing good cuz my English isn't so good for writing ;-; also when i writing this on google docs it was like 7 pages long.

Warning: 2.7K words, A bit affectionate in Jing Yuan and Aventurines part, manipulation, abuse of power, gaslighting, emotional abuse,

Info at bottom

Pairing: (Yandere) Sunday, Welt, Jing Yuan, Blade, Aventurine x Reader

Sunday Sunday wouldn't be able to handle it well, but instead, he would unintentionally cause further damage to your mental state. It’s elusive getting you to cooperate with his subjectives. He couldn’t quite bring himself to understand why you aimlessly slumber like this, showing little to no affection and he deluges you with this subjective perfect life. You were in a gilded cage ornate into a display of artwork, but to Sunday you’ll always be that vulnerable bird, needing guidance and protection. He couldn’t grasp the idea of why you still yearn for freedom when he can provide you with everything you desire.

You reminded Sunday of the time when he and his sister Robin once took a weak bird under their wing. The bird is like you; too weak and vulnerable for this cruel reality. Yet, his subjective never appealed to your line of reasoning. To you, people are meant to make their own choices and yearn for the touch of freedom. But to him the weak must be helped and preserved by the strong and by that you’re weak. 

Instead of offering you normal support and seeking treatment for you he would isolate you further, making watch of your every movement and ensuring you’re always in his presence every second. 

To Sunday he couldn’t just let you go now, not after all his sacrifices and efforts to hold you captive in his presence. He started to lie and twisted his thoughts into believing that this is the only path to achieve mutual happiness and to ensure your safety. Yet, it further broke him even though you refuse to make and remain apathetic with him. Your constant depression and lack of motivation left him feeling adrift. You rarely are able to take care of yourself anymore leaving him completely lost.

All he can hope is for you to develop Stockholm syndrome. He prays that your depression and lack of happiness will lead you to believe he’s the only one who can mend the wounds on your heart, filling any empty void. 

“Please stop lying on the bed. You’ve been there all day. You know that’s far from healthy and will only worsen your state,” he silently pleaded with you hoping by any miracle you would follow through. This constant isolation he put you through has been driving both you and him mad. But in the end, you lost all light in you. No longer able to plead with him any further for salvation.  

You can just simply close your eyes falling further back into nihility. 

“Please, my dear, you can't keep doing this to me… to yourself-”

‘I’m fine, ' you snapped. How his heart ached at your indifference.

“No, you’re not okay. Your behavior is absolutely absurd!” he remained unfalter on the edge of the bed next to you. Sunday’s mind ran blink on ways to save you from deluging any further in depression. He could release you, but he’s scared the moment he does. You would leave him forever like the bird he and his sister raised.

He leaned in, brushing your hair aside to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. He will continue to keep you here with him indefinitely, trying to keep his own sanity intact as well as yours. He only remains resolute to keep you here with him, refusing to open his eyes and acknowledge his wrongdoings.

“It’s not a sin. I’m doing this for the greater good.”

I believe Yandere Sunday is just manipulative in wanting to keep you, he’s no sadist but I also believe he cares a whole lot about his public image which is now RUINED! Sunday would be a good lover if you comply or not obsessed over you. Sunday would be the type to say, "Oh my days." :)

Welt During his lifetime Welt had witnessed a lot and many tragedies. Despite his knowledge and understanding of the consequences of his actions, he couldn’t suppress his urges when it came to you. Welt always made sure to keep a watchful eye over you, safeguarding you from any troubles. He would usually spend a lot of his time watching over you and observing any anomalous behavior from you. 

One sudden day he started noticing you developing odd behaviors and your daily schedule becoming a trouble. You also started to develop a habit of dissociating away from your peers, he was no exception. This unusual behavior disturbs him because it meant he can’t keep a close eye on you. 

Now I feel how he’ll handle this can go two ways: He seeks immediate professional help for you OR tries to handle this situation himself. The reason why Welt would try to handle this situation himself is to prevent you from becoming self-aware. To Welt, becoming self-aware poses a challenge to him as you’re more aware and knowledgeable of your surroundings and who is around you. He would do everything in his power to leave you clueless and thoughtless towards your surroundings so you don’t become aware of any manipulation he inflicted on you in the past.

Manipulation such as convincing you to stay with the Astral Express by his side 24/7. Welt truly cares about you and needs to see you heal. To him you’re the light in the room full of darkness in his heart. Every time you smile, laugh even when you’re clumsy or mess up he can’t help but smile, feeling relaxed near your presence. Even if you're not the brightest person you still light and warm up his heart. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, raising a brow as the bottom of his cane taps the floor behind you. Deep down he knows the answer and urges you to tell him the truth, finding comfort in his presence like he does in yours. 

“I’m alright,” you intensity waiver him away.

Unfazed by your response, he persisted, “You really don’t need to pretend, around me.”

If you do manage to admit and confess your feelings he would categorize it as depression. Welt will immediately try and cheer you up, letting March, Dang Heng and Stelle; his trusted companions around you. He will try every day to lift your spirits even letting you choose where to go for the next trailblazing expeditions. 

Welt attempts to educate himself more on the topic of depression, so he can create a safe environment for you. Although he might not exactly provide professional help he will solve it ethically.

Lol I can't see Welt keeping you captive. He would probably pressure you or convince you to join the Astral Express so he can keep a close eye on you. He's very careful when being possessive over you. Himeko and Dan Heng can catch on quickly so he would try to make you fall in love with him.

Jing Yuan Jing Yuan, a high achieving General, a man who no one can hate personally, aged over 600 years and has experience of yearning over the dead and betrayals. As he watched you drift into the endless abyss of sadness he could not help but share in your sorrow. All he truly wanted for you was your happiness and safety, including your undying love and attention. 

Yet this draining illness simply wouldn’t allow that for you. Jing Yuan is a man who is willing to go to extreme lengths in pursuit of your happiness which only he should be the one serving. Yet under one condition, he’s willing to do things that go against your happiness just so he can satisfy his impulsive desires. 

“I love you so so much. Please don’t be sad,” he murmured softly into your eyes, biting down gently on the top of your ears, which sent shivers down your body in a sensual way. He twirls the end of your hair with his fingers holding you against his embrace.

You continue to stare out into the distance, while his fingers play with the ends of your hair.

“If there’s anything you must need…. Please,” he implored in your ears from behind. The warm breath on your neck, “Tell me. I care about you and you know that.” his arms wrap around your waist telling you you’re all for him alone, all while he nuzzles his head against your shoulders. His white fluffy strands of hair tickle up against your cheekbone. 

If you ever found yourself in his custody and requested freedom, he would by all means exploit rapid, white little lies. 

"Recently, there have been reports of numerous mara-struck soldiers on the loose. 36 tragedies have resulted from these mara strikes," he warns, emphasizing the fake danger outside. "Luofu might need to go into lockdown, so it's safest for you to stay here with me."

He soon begins to take into account your condition growing rapidly worse. Your depression started to overtake your everyday life. That’s when he knew this was severe. Although sometimes delusional, he does take into account his mistakes. 

“I arranged us a date, a vacation even! It’s been many years since I left Luofu for anything other than urgent matters.”

You smiled and nodded profusely in agreement. This smile and small action deluges his heart with warm sweet love <3 How his heart jumps and flutters like a butterfly because of you. If you don’t get any better he will hire and get you an appointment with the best psychologist. 

Jing Yuan just wants the best for you wholeheartedly and truly. If he does kidnap and detain you, it’s because of his impulsive actions to keep you for himself. There will be no other 4th betrayal or the 4th person to pay the price. 

Blade Blade’s cold demeanor and sharp eyes were enough to sway anyone away; he never believed himself capable of love or being a good partner in general. Some people in this cosmos were simply not cut out to be in a relationship, or so he believed since his journey began with the thought of death lingering in his mind. 

Yingxing would have been a more suitable man in a relationship, but Blade? He doubts on the idea of love and interest. Yet, when he laid eyes on you he couldn’t ignore the strange stinging of an electric sensation in his heart. He wanted to delve deeper into this unusual sensation he was feeling. Although he knew he could never truly reveal himself.

Who wouldn’t recognize a man whose bounty is worth 8.13 billion credits? At least he has a good credit score unlike me (╥﹏╥) Blade slowly started by stalking you, falling deeper into the spiral of love and obsession. He knew with his records you could never reciprocate his feelings.

He restored to drastic measures, keeping you in his custody. It’s difficult to say he’ll treat you top-notch. Being under his care seemed more like a physiological experiment. Providing you with basic needs while expecting obedience, as if conducting an experiment. 

Blade never once will lay a hand on you, raise his voice at you, only expressing annoyance through small grunts and groans. However, the isolation drove you quickly to the brink of insanity. Every day, waking up to a meal, lack of interaction; he would simply stare down at you as you chew on the food he provided. You even lack social interaction with your kidnapper. The daily routine went on, like a trap in an asylum. 

His cold gaze lingered on you, studying your every move, all while silently making mental notes of your behavior. If you did fall into depression he wouldn’t recognize it immediately, attributing it to your natural state or how you express disappointment.

Every tear shed or harsh remark towards him is met with silent observation, perceiving it as a natural reaction. Only when severe signs startsd occurring; refusing to eat or neglecting basic hygiene, did Blade acknowledge something was amiss.

He attempts to coax you with better-tasting meals, even dessert. If you die from starvation how else will he get the same sensation he feels when around you? This strange sensation in his heart is much more desirable than death.

“Eat it, you mustn’t starve yourself,” he says nonchalantly, placing a bowl of Mapo Tofu and a small portion of rice before you.

“Just leave me alone.”

“Eat it.”

“No.”

Blade shot you a deadly glare, his intimidation palpable, urging you to reluctantly pick up the chopstick. Blade’s method or strange way of love worsens your condition. I think with Blade you probably wouldn’t relieve yourself from the chains of depression. Yet I also do believe Blade will try to understand your mental state yet fail.

If Blade were to love; he would start by, placing a hand on your shoulders and gently massaging your shoulder blade as you ate. The thought of Blade saying “I love You,” seems inconceivable, but he’d probably say it underneath his breath.

“Do now dwell in longingness for too long,” he muttered against your ears, perhaps the most motivational phrase he said to you since the decline in your mental state began. Although he won’t admit upfront he loves and feels affection toward you, his demeanor is more relaxed around you and his sharp intense eyes soften at your presence. 

How to help a depressed person 101: The reader is Blade trying to figure out what’s causing you this and how to help you. 

Aventurine From the moment Aventurine first laid eyes on you, he knew exactly what he wanted for the rest of his life. He had always felt most alive when gambling at high stakes, but being near you brought a sensation even more profound; a mix of obsession and love washed over him. 

When you begin to struggle with depression, Aventurine tries everything to lift up your spirits by lavishing you with extravagant gifts, hoping they would bring you happiness. Yet the joy was only ephemeral and wasn’t what he truly desired. What he craved was not only your happiness but also your love and affection.

He couldn’t bring it into words but, your presence was like an addictive drug he constantly craved for. His dopamine goes crazy near you, almost exploding his brain. There was something about you that he yearned to possess and preserve for himself.

“Sweetheart, I brought you this exclusive necklace,” he announced from behind, presenting the box to you.

Your face lights up only momentarily at each lavish gift presented to you, but as gifts keep coming, their extravagance holds little value. Aventurine could only find himself lost. What could he do now since he can’t seem to please you any further with his riches?

To him, his identity revolves around his wealth and luck, without the appeal towards money, he feared that he held no more value in your life. He wished you found solace in him as he did towards you.

“Is something the matter?” he asked anxiously, feeling you slip away further despite all his efforts. You’re his safe haven but he can’t fathom why he’s not your after all of his efforts. 

“I’m fine,” a transparent white lie escapes your lips.

“That’s a blatant lie,” he frowned, wrapping his right arm around your waist and pulling you in closer to him while on the bed. “Please, tell me the truth. I’ll buy you anything you want,” he continues coaxing you with the power of money.

“I’m okay,” you continue to refuse despite his effort.

Aventurine hesitates to pressure you any further, fearing that you’ll start to withdraw from him completely. He would insist, forcing you into therapy, though each session came with a price because nothing in this universe is free.

With Aventurine’s dirty money he coaxes the therapist to make every session involve him in some way while actually helping you. With the power of money, the therapist starts to manipulate you into seeking comfort, and attention from Aventurine. Every session ended with something about Aventurine, so he can linger in your thoughts.

Slowly, you began to heal, finding yourself drawn to Aventurine's presence. He welcomed this, craving pleasure since he- himself is constantly drawn to you every second.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his arm draped around you as you both lounged on plush casino's cushion.

"Better," you replied softly.

He smiled at your response, knowing it was what he wanted to hear. Finally, he was becoming your safe place, just as he had always hoped.

His hand gently massaged your back, drawing you closer until your lips were almost touching.

"Is that so?" he grinned, closing the gap with a tender kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. As he pulled back, staring at your bashfulness, he brushed your hair behind your ear and whispered, "If I win this, I'll buy you everything you desire."

P.S: I'm going to sleep after this but idk much about Welt despite playing hi3 since near release date. I also like keep character in character but Yandere or any NSFW +18 works are probably gonna be ooc.

Sorry this took so long I'm Trying to get my life back together :(

Mental Health

I take mental health seriously since I’m studying to become an expert in the medical field for mental health! If you’re ever in need of help please ask a trusted adult or seek help right away before it becomes worse! Just know mental health doesn’t make you a bad person but rather you’re suffering and depression is also an illness. Everyone is allowed treatment no matter what.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Touch-Starved (canon)

══════☸☸☸════════════☸☸☸══════

otherwise known as; the part where The Puppetmaster finds out he has THE FEELINGS(™, patent pending) for the Combat Harlequin. lmfao

══════☸☸☸════════════☸☸☸══════

"Almost..." His hand trembled at the last piece required. He carefully slotted the optics in place, and twisted the eye multiple times to stick it in place. Within moments, he steps back, and Bubble flared up alive again, checking out his new, updated vision. “Wow! I can see more colors now!” The Blimp spun in place.

“Those new eyes should allow you to broadcast anything you see to me, if I so wished.” He explains, pulling out a small, thin black screen from one of the the desk’s many compartment. He switches it on, and Bubble’s eyes suddenly have a tiny red dot blinking in the middle of it.

So far, so good. The device was working as intended and he could see the top of his dentures from Bubble’s perspective, making Caine grin proudly.

“You may proceed to do your chores once more, the upgrades are done.” He sends the blimp to his merry way, and Bubble only nods before turning away to make his way out of the office. He leans back with a content sigh and closed eyes, satisfied with the work done for the day.

At that very moment, Pomni also opens the door.

She looked… disheveled, to say the least.

“Oh hey Pomni!” The butler blimp greeted with his usual reply. The Harlequin only sent him a look of acknowledgement, knowing that it’s useless to try to spark up a conversation, as Bubble was already making his way out.

Caine blinked once, and then he blinked twice just to make sure he’s seeing things right.

Was she always this… dazzling? Literally? He could see sparkles forming everywhere.

She flipped her hair in a messy attempt to get rid of the strands currently stuck to the skin of her nape. Her trademark golden ponytail missing, most likely a B.O.S.S.’s doing. She made her way to Caine’s desk and he swears he could feel his heart beat faster and faster with each step she took. The Harlequin’s trademark squinted brows with half-lidded eyes meeting his own wide stare, a gaze that would typically make any person with a still-functioning sanity cower in fear.

She took a seat on his desk with her legs crossed and her back turned against him and leaning on her right arm, as she usually did.

“Here’s the die you asked for. Took me a bit, but still got the job done.” She checked her left arm for damages after she placed the multi-colored puppet heart in front of him, while she flashed her teeth with a victorious, smug smile. His words are caught in his throat and her entirety shines too brightly for him. He couldn’t understand it.

Why… did she seem like a flame, and he felt like an unsuspecting moth, drawn to her light?

He shook his head clear and forced his stare away from her direction, clearing his throat while clutching the die. “I-I see, thank you, Pomni. You-you’ve done… a… wonderful…” Her hand grasped his own and his heart leapt at his own throat. Her synthetic, calloused fingers felt so rough, yet so gentle against his own gloved ones that he considered taking them off.

“...j-job.” His breath hitched as he struggled to finish the end of his sentence, unable to tear his attention away from her eyes. He found himself gawking at her intense, golden eye matched with blue and red pinwheel ones.

“Aren't you forgetting something, Puppetmaster?” Her expression questioning, yet with a slight and subtle undertone of mischief glinted at her optics. 

He couldn’t speak. He struggled to form coherent words. It felt like he was being strangled by an unknown force clutching at his neck, yet there was clearly no malice behind it. 

“Wh… What am I forgetting…?” He asked in such a feeble tone that made her chuckle in such a low rumbling tone, snaring his full attention.

“Well, I think that I deserve a reward for my services. Don’t you think?” She stands up. Warm hands suddenly felt so cold and empty, and already he missed the warmth present just about a second ago. The Harlequin made her way towards him as he spun his chair to meet her halfway. Hand at her hips as she towered over his sitting form. He’s all of a sudden clutching at the armrest so intensely.

“Y-yes, of course! H-how could I forget!” He nervously chuckles, he would pull on his collar right about now. “What is it you wish to be rewarded with?”

He offers her his best smile, and she giggles as she shakes her head. Without any warning, she took a seat on his lap, and he went frozen. As if making one single move would shatter the very fabric of the universe. She leaned her head to his shoulder, fiddling with the collar of his shirt then her fingers trailed onto the underside of his chin to make him look at her. He shivered from the contact.

“You.”

He trembled as his face warmed up to uncontrollable degrees, and produced visible heat waves. Not even his self-installed coolants were helping him tone down the sudden rise in his body temperature in the slightest. He couldn’t control his shakes, making the Harlequin smirk, knowing that she had the Puppetmaster all wrapped around her finger.

He didn’t know what came over him, because now his own hands were making their way onto her thighs to pull her closer to him entirely, the other shakingly placing itself onto her shoulders and he could feel the way she sighs contentedly against his touch. He exhales a shaky breath himself, attempting to steel himself.

“M-my dear, a-are you positive that… that is what you’d like?”

It was better to be safe than sorry. She sits up straight, and for the first time, he regrets ever asking that question in the first place.

“Actually…” Her voice trails off playfully, while she stands up. “... Maybe I’d like something more.”

It only took her a finger underneath his chin to pull him as she leads him to a nearby wall. As if his own body had a mind of it’s own, he pins her in place with both arms adjacent to her head. His face leans in closer and closer to her with eyes closed, and she’s leaning up close to him, fully ready to accept his advances.

Pomni’s soft lips met his teeth, and Caine could smell the faint traces of grass and sweat rolling down from her synthetic skin, evident of her hardships from the recent battle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his loops around her waist to pull her closer, while the other cups at her face intensely. He savored her mouth as their breathing became heavy and fast-paced, only breaking apart for a mere second, gasping for air before delving back in to their desires.

Desire…

Quite the accurate depiction of how Caine truly felt for the Harlequin at this moment. He couldn’t quite decipher when this had started, though.

As if her intentions were to pry him away from his overbearing and unnecessary thoughts, Pomni pushed him away to pin him to the wall this time, continuing the liplock. He grunts from the impact, but gladly returns her enthusiasm with fervor as he loops his arm around her back, pulling her flush to him once more. Her hands made their way to the lower sides of his jaw to caress so gently, and he finds himself melting at every contact their touches made.

Without breaking the teeth-on-lip-lock, he steered their bodies onto the direction of his desk, leaving the Harlequin laying on it as he loomed over her, ravaging her mouth once more like the touch-starved man he was. He adjusted her thighs just enough to make room for him without making the position uncomfortable for the both of them, their heated make out session felt like it could go on forever as he gripped her waist tightly.

It felt like if he let her go, she would disappear all of a sudden. And he didn’t want that.

He made sure to not lean too much of his body weight onto her by propping himself up with his elbows, both hands find themselves cupping her face to keep her in place as her hands trailed all the way up from the lower arms to his shoulders to do the same to him. He broke the kiss to gasp for air, a string of saliva being the clear proof of their heated action, but quickly delved back into the riveting sensations of their activity. 

Her touch against him were like magic; every contact sent shivers and jolts down his spine as she switched from holding his shoulders to holding his chest just above where a collarbone would traditionally be, pushing him away to let herself up. For a nanosecond he thought that maybe he went a little too far with his advances, until she disproved his theory by shoving him to one of the nearby long couches, only a pillow to cushion and soften his landing onto the furniture.

Quickly making up for lost time and contact, she quickly crawls to straddle his waist, clutching the back of his head to make him look at her, and her only. His hand found itself gripping at the back of her waist tightly once more, the other clutching her own head just to make sure she’s still there with him. Both were panting heavily, the room temperature very much heated as a result of their affairs.

His eyes looked at her longingly as he breathed heavily. “Pomni… I… I don’t think I want this to end.”

She flashed him a consoling smile.

The alarm rings, deafening the surroundings as he jolts awake, falling from his chair comically with a loud, slightly high-pitched scream emitting from his throat. He groans from the headache he had received from the impact to the ground, clutching at the top sides of his jaw, as he leans his head onto the desk for support.

His false heart was beating faster than when one would run; His face was flushed and he frustratingly ignores the heat from the rest of his body with a grumble.

He shifts his eyes to look around. Nothing’s changed. Everything was the same since Bubble left to do his daily chores.

He shakes his head and slams his face down onto the elegant desk, groaning depressingly and half-sobbing.

What the fuck? Was… WAS IT ALL JUST A DAMN DREAM!?

Oh, he could scream and cry into a pillow right about now. But the panicked angry screaming of a certain someone being bothered by the recent addition; the Ragdoll Mannequin that was “Ragatha”, suddenly grabs his attention. Now, he’s looking outside into the manor grounds from his office’s windows with a tired and questioning gaze.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

“But Mistress! You still haven’t tried out my trademark cookie recipe!! It’s GUARANTEED to be your instant favorite!”

“STOP CALLING ME MISTRESS! FOR THE LAST TIME, I DON’T CARE, GET THE FUCK AWAY-”

Caine sighed disappointingly to himself, dragging his hand across his eyes.

God fucking dammit. He actually feels something for her.

══════☸☸☸════════════☸☸☸══════

I would say I'm sorry, but we all know I'm not. :)

[occamstfs]

Spanish Shortcuts

Heyo, Here’s a Latino cultural/racial change, also my first foray into a possession transformation! Lessons to be learned about clicking dodgy links and letting spirits walk all over you!

¡Espero que lo disfrutes Atajos en Espanol! -Occam

The foreign language requirements of any American high school are guaranteed to be lackluster. It is no wonder that a nation so fixed on instilling American and English supremacy was so wont to neglect the study of foreign languages and culture. For his part Claude had just about forgotten all the Spanish that he learned not too many years ago. At the present moment he is browsing the web looking for some way to reclaim and improve on his meager knowledge. Despite his desire however, he is shockingly unwilling to do much at all to pursue this end.

Rather than the tried and true method of studying each day Claude is instead looking for not only the easy way, but an instantaneous way to regain his lost knowledge. This is obviously a beyond foolish endeavor, though having long heard tales of people waking up speaking in languages they hadn’t learned he was deep in rabbit holes online scouring for a ticket to bilingualism. Unwilling to admit that they were just old wives’ tales or shitposts he clicks link after link sure the next one will lead to some fruition.

Deep in websites he certainly should not be visiting without a firewall he actually stumbles on a thread in Spanish. Hastily translating the page through Google it promises the fluency of a native speaker through a single click. Claude scratches his cheek wondering whether or not to go through with it, could be malware, probably just a link to a meme or the like. He looks at the link in blue text, it’s just a name: Carlos Herrero. With little further ado Claude decides fuck it what’s the worst that could happen and clicks the name in blue.

The lights in his room flicker as his hand holding his mouse is promptly shocked. He pushes away from his desk shaking his hand in pain as suddenly there is a chill in the air. He shivers as he hears a voice, deep and unknown, whispering in his ear. “Hola hola hola mi perrito.” Claude shakes his head feeling the tickle of a beard on his cheek and swats at the air. “Ay! Lo siento, ah- ¿cuál es su nombre? Claude ¿Verdad? ¿Me entiendes?” (Ah! Sorry, uh- What is your name? Claude, is it? Can you understand me?) 

Claude looks around his room in shock at this mysterious voice, immediately assuming he’s lost his mind. He shakes his head trying to wake up or come to his senses, after a few shakes he feels a cold powerful hand grasp his jaw. He hears the voice continue to speak in words he couldn’t understand and did his best not to process lest it worsen the state of his mind. His eyes widen in shock as he stares into the space, feeling the skin on his face contort in response to a hand that is not there. He feels the grip tighten and his breathing  accelerates as he starts to hyperventilate.

As if in response to his fear the hand disappears from his face and he feels a heavy arm around his shoulder. “¿No querías saber español?” (Do you not want to know Spanish?) Claude’s ears pick up as he hears Spanish he can just about recall. In doing so his brain immediately reprocessed the preceding events in order to maintain any semblance of sanity. The link must have worked! This is just a dream or something that will end with him knowing Spanish, just like a video game. He just needs to play along until he wakes up. Neglecting how real everything clearly is he addresses the voice, willing himself to believe whatever it is that it’s not malevolent. “Okay, uh I’m down for whatever, thanks for your help, uh, ghost?”

“De Nada, Claudio.” With this Claude’s visions flicker as the chill in the air fills him. He gasps and sees his breath condensate as every inch of his body is ice cold. Claude falls out of his chair and scratches at himself, instinctively trying to claw something out of his body. He rolls onto his hands and convulses, retching as if trying to throw something up. As the seconds pass he feels his body rapidly warm from the bitter freeze, unsure if this is a mirage of heat like the comfort one feels in the throes of hypothermia he paws at his chest.

Before finding confirmation in any way Claude hears the alluring whispers once more, though this time not tickling his ear. Rather it is now a voice within his own head. “Testing testing, ah would you look at that. Now I’m speaking a language you can understand huh? Hahah!” Claude’s brow furrows as he wipes spit from his mouth. This was not the easy nap and wake up anew process that he was promised. As if it had access to his thoughts the voice responds to this. “Ah sorry if I misled you little guy, this is going to be a bit of work. Trust though! It will certainly be easier and quicker than wasting your time studying!” Claude rolls his eyes before remembering since this is probably a dream that at the very least in reality this will be over briefly. 

Claude then tilts his head and asks out loud to the voice in his head, “Why are you speaking in English now?” It sounds just like the one he heard earlier, if not a little more playful as it responds, “Ahh language processors, something or other- Don’t worry your little head about it, in time we both will be thinking in Espanol ya? In the meantime why not jumpstart it!” Claude purses his lips trying to find the inscrutable voice’s intentions as he does so the heat in his body begins to convert to energy.

He suddenly feels as if he’s had enough caffeine to power a body three times his size. He feels every muscle in his body demand attention and exercise as his hands start to shake. “Oh would you look at that! If it’s any help any time I used to get excited or stressed I’d always hit the gym, ya dig?” Already motioning to get changed for the gym to blow off some of this energy Claude pauses to once more try and understand the implications of the voice’s statement. “Sorry, what do you mean you used to?” 

There is then a jarring silence in his mind. Claude stands, gym clothes in hand, without a thought in his mind before the voice replies trying its best to disarm him despite its deep gruff tone, “Ah well, you know how these things go, it’s just dream logic right? This is all lucid dream, the quicker you stop questioning the sooner you’ll be a pro.” He feels a vein of chill air dash through his mind once more and he nods in agreement. His eyes lose their sharpness as he decides to just listen, throwing on some clothes and heading out.

Heeding the voice he endeavors not to question his circumstances. He gets in his car and does not wonder why, if he is truly dreaming, that he did not just poof over. Feeling his heart start to beat quickly in his chest, in response to anxiety in his chest or to the energy only continuing to course through his veins he is not sure. He looks in his rearview mirror to calm himself and sees the same reflection he always has. Claude smiles at himself seeing at least his appearance is static in this dreadful dream and heads in to get this over with, the voice in his cheering him on as he makes his way in. Increasing in fervor and volume with each step towards the door.

Once inside he Claude is shocked as the voice suddenly drops out of his head leaving him once more with the harsh silence of but his own thoughts. After having such a loud visitor in his mind he is almost uncomfortable with the feeling. Stepping up to the counter to check in he greets the receptionist, “Heyo! It’s Claudio hermano!” The receptionist tilts his head as for a second it’s almost like two voices came from the man in front of him. Claude looks down at himself and clears his throat before trying again, “Lo, Urgh, Sorry about that, Um It’s Claude Smith.”

The receptionist checks him in and Claude goes off to stretch. He doesn’t usually spend much time at the gym, just enough to stay thin. But something inside him tells him that today will be different. Something inside him. His head twitches to the side as the idea washes across his mind. Looking around the room to ensure he’s alone he tries talking to the voice, doing so he does not notice that his pitch has lowered, “Hey uh, I know you told me not to ask questions. But did you make me call myself Claudio earlier?” Having paused his stretches he feels a burning in his arms and legs demanding they keep moving. Obeying the pain, his lips quiver as if he’s about to speak and the voice responds, “Ay ¿Crees? (You think so?)Es just a slip of the tongue ya?”

Claude continues stretching carefully, taking deep breaths to assuage the anxiety building in his chest. He is facing away from the wall of mirrors, unintentionally or through some subtle manipulation. Otherwise he may notice as his hair slowly begins to darken to a deep shade of brown. The blonde locks he has always been proud of maintain their length as they darken unnaturally. The thought pops into his head that he would look good with brown hair si? He shakes it away as soon as it appears though, biting his lip to avoid voicing his concern at how much power this “voice” has over him.

Trying to center himself he closes his eyes as he continues to stretch. The companion in his mind is thankfully quiet as he pushes away the discomfort at the silence and instead appreciates the freedom. Little does he know the presence is simply acting on him in other avenues as he stretches. Claude smiles as he feels the burning relief of his stretches, grunting quietly enough that he notices not how his voice has continued to deepen, inching closer to the voice that is not his own. 

The pleasant burn of his legs as he stretches them becomes almost intoxicating as he leans against the mirrored wall. Were his eyes open he would see his calves begin to grow beyond those that he wakes up to every morning. They begin to bulge larger and longer as he extends them. Muscle the size of a baseball forces its way onto them as he stands smiling dumbly. His thighs then stain larger to match pace as they expand to hold the weight of someone a foot taller than he. The soothing burn of stretching hides the soreness that should be apparent and Claude begins to sweat as if he has been heartily working out for some time now.

Not to be outdone there is a whisper in his head that he should stretch his arms as well. Without a further thought, almost without his mind even sending the order to do so, his arms are out in front of him. Each second his arms lie extended they stretch further out from his torso. Claude motions to stretch his shoulders, wrapping one arm around the other, his biceps rub against each other as he squeezes his arm tight to his chest. His arms begin to show a bulge of muscle as he stands there biting his lip at the pleasure being wrought upon him through simple stretching.

Finally he raises his arms above his head to stretch his meager chest, struggling to do so as his larger muscles have begun to impede his dexterity. With his arms in the air and his pits exposed he notices that something has begun to stink up the locker room he’s been stretching in. Claude opens his eyes looking for the assailant, to no avail. He turns his head to the side thoughtlessly putting his nose in his pit, finding the scent closer he takes a deep breath before finding himself starting to chub at the scent. The voice in his head laughs, “¡Jajaja! ¡Nice brazos (arms) perrito! ¿A ti también te gusta mi olor, eh?” (You like my smell as well huh?)

Despite his best efforts at centering himself during his stretches, he is once more consumed with anxiety. He looks down at his body that he knows should be petite but instead finds one that does not go two days without hitting el gimnasio. He flinches as his mind automatically went for the word in Spanish. Wait, did the voice in his head just say his smell!? He sniffs the air and a thought forces itself to the front of his mind, Well this is what I wanted wasn’t it? His ears ring as he is not sure if those are his thoughts or ones implanted by whatever monster is doing this to him.

Claude feels an itch on his hand and he looks down to see the hand that clicked that link some time ago as it begins to darken. He sees a rich tan begin to spread up his suddenly muscular arm as veins throb down it aiming to increase the mass. “Q- What es, happening!?” Claude turns to look in the mirror and finds the tan racing across his body. He sees the patches of his unmistakably white skin tone become naturally sunkissed as his eyes widen in shock. He freezes up and the voice in his head takes advantage and tries to seize control outright, flexing his arm and revealing the thin patch of blonde hair in his pit as it grows dark as the hair on his head and thickens beyond the pale. The voice speaks in his mind deeper and stronger than ever as he begins to outright vie for control, “Tranquilo Claudio. (Chill out Claudio.) Let us see what I can do jaja!”

It takes a bit of concerted effort but the voice, who outs himself unsurprisingly as Carlos himself, step by step forces Claude’s body across the room in his catatonia. Claude feels a smirk on his face as Carlos positions him at the bench press. He clumsily lays back on the bench before checking the weights. Looks like some cabrón left his weights on the bar, though actually it's fortunate as Carlos doubts he has the ability to do such complex motor functions as he feels Claude start to wake from his stupor.

Carlos feels an itch on Claude’s face and he begins to smirk as he feels facial hair begin to grow, “Ay he might have cojones yet jaja!” Claude feels his mouth move of its own accord and finally notices that his voice has lowered considerably and he feels his body struggle as he tries to gasp as hears it develop a deep accent.

Before Claude can wrestle control back Carlos grabs for the bar and starts to do a rep. He grunts as he realizes this body is simply not strong enough at the moment to manage the weight that was left on the rack. As the pole is just about to pin him however Claude senses the peril and both minds in the body force the bar up. “¡Bien Claudio! Let’s see what we can do juntamente si?” (together yes?) Claude tries to grunt out a protestation but is suddenly racked with pain as his body must grow larger to force the bar up.

Both men feel as weight begins to pile onto the twink’s only recently muscled body. Claude feels as pecs develop on his chest, totally ripping the tank top that had grown tight while stretching. Carlos feels as his biceps surge larger than the thighs this weak body had not two hours ago. The expression on his face flickers between ecstasy and concern as he lies on the bench doing repetitions as his core strengthens and puts on mass.

After his chest and arms grow large enough to send existential fear into Claude’s mind and a hungry lust for more into Carlos’ balls, Claude stumbles off the bench and falls to the floor, letting the weights crash next to him. He feels pin pricks as tattoos begin to stain his tanned skin and he cries out in his changed voice, “No! Este es- This isn’t right!” with each word his voice cracks deeper and the English words become a tad more difficult to maneuver his mouth around. Without a beat, Carlos immediately takes control of his mouth and responds as his voice finishes changing to match the one in his head. “Ah, ahí estás equivocado amigo. Esto es perfección.” (Ah, there you are wrong friend. This is perfection)

Claude stands to stare in the mirror watching sweat trail down his body and ink rise in his skin. He looks at his chin as a beard begins to shadow his face. He sees his eyes as they flicker and begin to darken to a deep cacao brown. His lip quivers as if he is about to cry before without any input from him it turns to a sneer as he feels Carlos chastise him without words. Claude feels a pit in his chest as not only does he not need to hear them, he begins to feel the disdain himself. As if the will of Carlos was starting to become his own.

This causes a surge in his crotch as he feels in that regard Carlos has already wrestled full control. He feels his balls that are not his begin to grow and demand attention. They feel full and needy as pre begins to leak out of his growing erection. That happens anytime he goes to the gym si? As his eyes shift down to see his bulge make itself known his facial hair expands and his pubes begin to crest above his waistline. The small bush of pit hair begins to grow into a jungle as his balls work overtime to produce testosterone to power his poderoso body.

Feeling the hormones from Carlos’ balls pump through his veins Claude realizes what a losing battle he faces. He feels his thoughts begin to mingle with the man he foolishly allowed into his body as he begins to feel himself overwhelmed with the pressure and lust issuing forth from his crotch. He feels his fluency in English begin to wane as Carlos begins to overpower every aspect of his personality. Claude continues to stare at his reflection in the mirror and the anxiety and fear rapidly dissipate as he enjoys the power that he wields. “¡Dios estoy tan chacondo!” (God I’m so Horny) The two men voice as one, his voice reverberating through his chest as he feels power continue to surge through him.

Claude watches as his body flexes itself in the mirror without a single thought or any input from him. Not that he minds, it’s doing exactly what he would be doing anyway si? He smirks seeing his cock bob up and down as he struts across the gym floor. Every thought in his head is in fluent Spanish as he feels his identity fully mingle with Carlos’ as they truly become one. Despite this originally being Claude’s body he feels himself shrink and mold as he becomes an aspect of Carlos’ personality. Every action, every word, every movement will be crafted by the two of them. Though altogether Claude will just about always find himself thinking just as Carlos does, and both minds will more often than not be ruled by the powerful hormones coming from below.

“Debería haber preguntado sobre los términos y condiciones, Hermano.” (Should’ve asked for the terms and conditions bro.) He thinks to himself as he makes his way to the gym’s showers to pump one out. Over time even Carlos would forget that this has not always been his body. Each day he would continue to make it his own, increasing his mass and power. Outgrowing a wardrobe of clothes he would never be caught dead wearing. It did not take long at all to establish his supremacy as Carlos Herrero. Though there was some inherent difficulty navigating this land only knowing Spanish, Carlos managed well enough, confident that if needed he could perhaps let his passenger breathe enough to regain some English. At this point however it’s hard to say if any remnants of Claude remain, and moreover if he would even desire to emerge back into his own mind, it is of course much easier to simply indulge in the ceaseless pleasure he has found for himself within Carlos’ mind.

[soft-beams]

hiii! i read your fic about reader x vi where the reader passes and omg it broke my heart so…for the sake of my sanity! can we have a pt 2 where it expands on the days afterwards and how vi grieves ! alsooo if you could maybe a time skip where vi either moves on (that girl would NEVER) or she stays single until she herself eventually passes :(( anyway thank u sm!

hello! first off, thank you for reading my fic, and i'm sorry to have broken your heart ���� i just had that idea rolling around in my head, and i couldn't help myself. ;-; but i'd be more than happy to do a pt 2 where we look into how vi copes (she Does Not Cope).

tw//mention of character death (reader), vi x f!reader

part 1

--------

Life instantly becomes meaningless after you die. It's as if the world is void of colour, leaving everything in shades of grey.

It's horribly depressing, but it makes sense. You were what gave her world meaning, you were what give her world beauty and now...you weren't there anymore.

So what was the point of anything?

She slips into drinking again, heavy liquors that numb the pain and made the grey world go away. She's angry, she's fury as she punches anyone who dares look at her for even a second too long. She's tired, exhausted and all she wants to do is sleep. But sleep isn't kind, it eludes her and when she's able to catch it, all she sees behind her eyes is you.

You laughing.

You smiling.

You holding her close and telling her everything is going to be alright.

You.

"You can't continue on like this," Caitlyn says, having appeared at Vi's door five minutes ago. She's a concerned friend, her brow furrowed with worry. "You...this isn't what she would want." She struggles for a second to find the right words. "She'd want you to heal and find some sort of peace and—"

"You think I don't know that, Cait?" Vi interrupts and she sounds exhausted. Her voice is hoarse, dry from thirst and sucking in too deep breaths when she cries. "You don't think I know she wouldn't want this for me?" She gestures around herself, at the mess of her small apartment and the mess that is herself. "I...try so hard to even get up in the morning but it feels so fucking pointless because she isn't here when I open my eyes."

Something akin to pity flickers through Caitlyn's eyes as she watches Vi slump down onto her bed, her head in her hands.

"I loved her for so long," Vi murmurs. "Since I was thirteen and didn't even know what love was." She lifts her head to stare at the ceiling. "And when I finally gathered up the courage to confess to her at sixteen, I was so happy when she returned my feelings." A weak smile curves her lips as she lowers her head, looking right at Caitlyn. "We had plans. We talked about how we were going to leave this place and explore the world. See what we could bring back to Zaun to make it better. We were going to take Powder so she could finally fly on one to those airships and..." Vi trails off, going quiet.

Caitlyn finds herself at a loss for words, unable to compile what she feels for Vi into speech. She knows how grief feels. She's more than aware of how it crushes and consumes you. When her mother died, she didn't know what she was going to do. How she was going to cope when someone so important to her was gone.

She can relate to Vi to some extent but to lose someone you loved with your entire heart, soul and mind...

Caitlyn very slowly makes her way over to Vi and sits beside her. Then she places a careful hand on her shoulder and says, "I'll never be able to fully grasp how you're feeling, and I won't pretend to even try. But...think of her and ask yourself if this is how she'd want you to waste your days."

Vi thinks about it, lets Caitlyn's words dance around in her head before you appear in her mind's eye.

"I'd be real pissed if you just laying about doing nothing," you say, frowning with your arms crossed. "I mean, I'm glad you love me enough to wallow so hard but fuck, Vi."

Vi laughs wetly, tears already forming in her eyes as she stares at you, wistful.

"Shut up," she mumbles before her chest is shuddering with heavy breaths, a thick sob leaving her throat. "I just...I just miss you so much. You weren't, fuck, you weren't supposed to leave."

Your frown turns into a sad smile, and you look away, as if trying to hide your own tears.

"I know, honey, I know," you reply, words thick on your tongue. "And I'm so sorry for leaving you, you know that, right?"

Vi nods, wiping away still falling tears.

"But I don't want you to live this way, sweetheart," you tell her. "Fighting every day and getting shitfaced. I thought we were past this after your pitfigher phase."

That pulls a genuine laugh from Vi, with a snort and all, as she cackles. That has you laughing too, your grin wide and toothy, and God, you're so beautiful.

Even in death.

"I'm losing my mind, aren't I?" Vi says as she looks up at you, and you move your head to the left and right before shrugging.

"Maybe a little bit, but that's fine," you reply before leaning in close, and Vi sighs desperately as your foreheads touch. "But you've never been truly sane."

Vi reaches for you and swears she can feel the warmth of your skin beneath her fingertips.

"I love you," Vi rasps, eyes closed tight as she holds you close.

"I love you too," you mumur, and Vi feels your hands smooth over her cheeks. "So do me a favour and try and be happy, okay? Go outside and do something that isn't reckless drinking and violence. And take a damn shower, you're gross."

Vi snorts, smiling. "No promises."

"Idiot." Your voice is loving and fond as it slowly disappears in an echo.

"...Vi?" Caitlyn's voice replaces yours and it's here that Vi smiles, albeit sad but a little bit happier.

"Yeah, this isn't how she'd want me to waste my days," Vi replies before slapping her knees and standing up from the bed. "I'm gonna take a shower and...maybe we can do something?"

Caitlyn stares at her for a second before smiling.

"Yeah, of course we can."

That's my girl, Vi hears in your voice as she goes to the bathroom, and that gives her the extra push she needs.

[g1rlken]

obsessed/possessive felix catton 🫣

Oh. Oh absolutely.

Anon you’re so real for this one🤞

-

Obsessive felix

word count: 1.3k (one shot)

Warnings: the req +sorry if he gets a bit toxic

-

For someone who grew up with a second pair of everything irreplaceable items were rare for felix. Or people, most relations superficial, nothing money can’t buy. That’s why she was different. He had to work for her, to be noticed to gain her affection. As unusual as it was for him he didn’t mind it.

Before they even started dating, it was difficult for felix to try and get her attention. They had different majors and one friend group in common most of whose gatherings she rarely joined. Occasional weekends here and there. He asked about her around, causality came naturally to him so most didn’t suspect a thing. Her lectures, her schedule, library visits, he memorised it all within a time span of a few days.

Felix would pick up the book she’d be returning at library, at first it was only to get an insight to what she’s interested in. What she reads in order to strike a conversational of coincidentally having same interests. However her long kept book smelt like her fragrance. It made him question his sanity halfway through a book on fluid mechanics if he was trapped by the contents of the book or the scent of her from it, it was the latter.

Much pinning, much accident meetings later they’d finally hit off. From his own past patterns and experiences in romance felix knew he would feel less and less intensely for her once he’d have her. She surprised him. As did himself, his feelings grew much more intensely than decreasing.

He felt wholly consumed by the being of her and it still felt not enough. He wanted to be drenched like the sand by the sea during a storm, he wanted her to be the rays that open his life like the petals of a morning glory flower. Because in one sense she was the answer to his glory, the glory he’s had to work for. One he wanted to announce to the whole world that she was his and the one he wanted to shield from the whole world because she was his. And his only.

She brought a sense of grounded serenity with her, in the morning with her locks softly spilled over his chest as she’d sleep through her first alarm which would evidently wake him up before her but he’d be glad. Because it would result to let him have his most cherished moment, the softest of mornings with her in his arms. The second alarm would only make him hold her tighter, not wanting to let go off her so soon.

One would forgo and turn a blind eye to a lot of things for love, his tender love came at the expense of his intense one as well. Though he was the softest of lovers, with her behind closed doors. It could most certainly be felt being with him however at certain instances it could be accounted for just how fiercely he loved. Aggressive make out sessions at the party, if someone stared at her a bit too long. It got awkward at times, in his lap or against the wall in a crowded dimly lit room. Not for him of course, it could get overbearing at times though. “You always pull something like that!” She complained as they returned from this one party, felix thought his possessive traits were subtle.

“Like what? Like kissing you? My girlfriend?” He questioned with a scoff as he removed his jacket and hanged it on the door hanger inside her dorm room.

“No-but a whole make out session? There were people around!” She complained trying to reason with him, had she felt uncomfortable with it she could’ve told him during it but it wasn’t that. Yet there was something she couldn’t pinpoint or maybe chose not to.

“It was a party” he scoffed as he walked over to her and pulled her closer to him by her waist to pause her whining, “it’s common to make out with your girlfriend at a party.”

She pulled away from his grasp, not wanting to have the firmness of the conversation she was trying to have be dismayed “No it’s always like this, especially at parties. You basically manhandle me the entire time-“

“Manhandle you?” He stopped her midway, scoffing at the sound of her baseless proponent “Really? So dancing with you, kissing you is now manhandling you?”

“It’s not, but your arms around me, kissing my neck, trying to kiss me while I’m in the middle of a conversation with someone that’s so unideal.” She advocated for what she was trying to say, she knew he was always big on physical touch and she never once minded it. However it wasn’t the first time it had happened where she’d try to have a normal conversation with anyone and felix would kiss the nape of her neck as she’d talk, pull her into his lap if she was sitting next to him. Completely disregarding whoever she was conversing with.

“So having a conversation is much more important than being close to me?” He asked, his tone was mild and composure relaxed but he felt border line offended.

“That’s not what I’m saying…” she sighed rubbing her eyes for a second, “you know that’s not how I’m saying it-“

“—Oh no please enlighten me how much of an inconvenience it is if I kiss you in front of other people!” Felix interrupted her.

“We just seem like that obnoxious PDA couple everywhere we go! And it’s not just this party or parties in general-everywhere you just…” she trailed off looking for the right word.

“Suffocate you.” He filled in for her with a scoff and looked away from her crossing his arms.

“No.” She replied firmly “No you just get overbearing. Where does that come from, talk to me.”

“Do you seriously want me to justify myself for wanting to be close to my girlfriend? Do you hear yourself?”

“Do you hear yourself felix!” Exclaiming she sighed regaining her composure, “Its like you can’t stomach the fact that I exist outside of this relationship, why can’t you just commute and tell me what’s your issue?”

“You don’t get it do you?” He let out a dejected scoff and approached closer to her, “it is fucking infuriating to see you paint me out like I’m irrational-I’m not impulsive because I’m madly in love, y/n, I am madly in love with you and I know exactly what I’m doing. To safeguard what we have, after you the most precious thing that’s happened to me is our relationship. We come off as an obnoxious couple? I come off as possessive? Fuck it.” He stated confidently as he took her hands in his, “I care about you, your sense of self and individuality is very dear to me and I’m sorry if you feel otherwise. I’ve never been in this place before where losing someone would worry me but losing you terrifies me to my core. I’m not irrational, I'm maybe rational to the point of obsession. But I am just a man who loves you more than anything in this world.” His gaze never lifted off of her eyes the entire time and he felt a bit surreal having confessed his all-consuming, all-encompassing love for her. There was a sense of vulnerability in being freed of the truth.

“Felix…” she breathed as her gaze softened, his flaws were the same as hers in a different dynamic and he was rough around the edges but now after what he confessed? She saw his love in a different much serious and committed light. Devoted. She looked down at her hands in his and back up at him with a soft smile adorning her face, she didn’t know how else to reply to him so she just leaned forward brushing her lips against his in a passionate kiss. He held held her in his arms lengthening the kiss.

“You’re mine. Mine to protect, mine to love, mine to cherish.”

“—Yours.”

[riovidalupdates]

LAST GIRL STANDING - i.

part ii.

“I’m not asking you to stay. I’m asking if this was ever real?” - Wanda Maximoff

“The issue with time is that it’s endless, yet, there’s never enough. How does it fit with us?” - Rio Vidal

“You were never a priority, but you became one that I can’t lose now.” - Agatha Harkness

pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, agatha harkness x fem!reader, and rio vidal x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to learn that you can love more than one person—because you love them in different ways. the problem: they love you in one way. so, who are you in love with and who gets hurt?

warnings: cursing, angst, intimate moments but not sex, and other stuff that i'll add as time goes on.

notes: this one has been in my drafts for a long time. i did a little bit of revision and editing, but i am busy and i do want to get this story going. as it goes on I will be more efficient with the editing. it is also a college au so there is no witches or anything like that, but other works will be! enjoy! chapters will be longer and the writing will get better. It’s been awhile since I’ve actually written a story, but I’ve been working on so many other projects and I had this all planned out before I got my new job.

word count: 1.4k

・❥・

There was never a time where you ever thought you’d be losing your sanity. Months ago, you only ever known the beauty of peace, having full control over your thoughts and emotions with no consequences. Where does the chaos abruptly begin, how does it begin, and why does it begin?

Because fuck all that, why do you have to be involved in a mess that you didn’t ask for?

You stared out of your dorm window, tracing the movement of students below as they hurried between classes. The campus was alive with energy—laughter, chatter, and the constant shuffle of feet on the worn pathways—but it all felt distant to you, like watching life happen through a glass pane. From the outside, you seemed well-adjusted. A few close friends, decent grades, a knack for blending in at social events. But lately, you had begun to feel a quiet, persistent void growing inside, one that friendship, academic success, and even casual flings couldn’t quite fill.

It wasn't that you were lonely in the traditional sense. In fact, you had friends—great friends who provided the utmost support in all that you do. Natasha Romanoff from work, Kate Bishop from short-film club, Steve Rogers from gym (he was also Natasha’s boyfriend), Tony Stark who crashed into your car the first day of move-in (he paid for all damages after you punched him), and Wanda Maximoff, your best friend. Wanda had been by your side for years, a constant source of home. There was so much to your overall relationship with her that it couldn’t be replicated with the others or anyone. Even if you were to try.

But no matter how much you spent time with Wanda, she found her footing in rather quick. And while you don’t want to assume things are going well for her, you could at least tell she was happiest when she was in the arms of her obnoxious, academically skilled boyfriend, Vision. Vision who is ahead of the IT program, the captain of the golf team, and somehow Tony’s coworker at Stark’s Industries (who cares about some intellectual freak? Not you).

Anyway, it felt like there was something missing, some deeper connection you couldn’t quite grasp. Sometimes, you’d feel yourself pulling back in conversations, faking a smile here and there when noticing yourself drifting out of sync.

You sigh as you turned away from the window, grabbing your backpack, and slinging it over your shoulder. Another day of classes to get to, papers to turn in, and your typical routine to follow. It all felt so automatic, like living on autopilot.

Perhaps there was something you weren’t doing. Maybe you were actively doing something to avoid fulfilling that aspect of void?

Your phone buzzed on the desk—Wanda.

“Dinner tonight?” She asks once you pick up. “And I swear if you say no, I am going to drive to your class and drag you out myself.”

 You considered telling her no for a moment but it’s Wanda and because of that you say, “Sure. Just don’t barge in like last time. Felt like I got in trouble with my mother…”  Despite your growing sense of detachment, you couldn’t bring herself to decline. You’ve been avoiding her like the plague. She’s your best friend and has asked to hang out for the last month or so only for you to be nowhere. Questions were beginning to rise, and you weren’t ready to answer any of them.

Her laughter echoed through and you kind of forget that you were falling into a hole of emptiness. “Look, I gotta go,  I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah. See you, dekta.”

Dekta. It was always that.

As you made your way across campus, weaving through the throngs of students, you felt a heaviness settle in your chest. Classes, work, clubs, and repeat. How was it that you could be surrounded by people, involved in their lives, and still feel like an outsider looking in?

You loved your friends, or at least you thought you did, but lately, even that felt like a lie you told yourself. You enjoyed your courses. So what if you have to stay up until 2am for shoots and editing, you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t enjoy it. Actually, you were late to register, and this was kind of a last minute decision.  And you were president for the short film club, but you kind of are guessing why you’re doing this all because you hate people.

The reality is, it’s to avoid facing the deeper truth: that connection, the real kind, the kind that made you feel alive and seen. Not just from relationships, courses, and social life.

Was this what your life was going to be? Always on the fringes, never fully connecting? You wanted more but didn’t know how to get it. Maybe you didn’t even know what “more” really was.

You were good at pretending everything was fine, good at putting on a show of contentment. But deep down, you knew you were waiting for something—or someone—to break through that glass pane that kept you at arm’s length from everyone around.

But until then, you’d keep going, navigating your college life as best as you could, feeling more like an observer than a participant.

・❥・

You sat across from Wanda at your usual spot in the campus dining hall, picking at her salad as Wanda animatedly recounted the latest drama involving her boyfriend, Vision. You nodded along, making the appropriate sounds of sympathy and surprise, but part of you couldn't help but tune out the problem.

“I swear, sometimes he just doesn’t listen,” Wanda continued, exasperation creeping into her voice. “Last night I..." She sighed, looking down at her food. "I told him I needed space and time to collect my thoughts about where this is going, but he kept calling and texting, so we could talk it out..."

You forced yourself back into the conversation. “Sounds like he’s not respecting your boundaries,” you offered, glancing up at Wanda. You couldn’t help the slight resentment that crept in whenever Vision came up. There was always an unspoken tension in your friendship, one that emerged whenever Wanda talked about her boyfriend.

You didn’t know exactly why you disliked him—maybe it was his arrogant demeanor, or the way he always seemed to treat Wanda as an accessory rather than an equal. She would often vent about the small ways in which he let her down, like forgetting their date plans or brushing off her opinions, but then she would always follow it up with some form of an excuse that he cares. You would just nod along, hiding the skepticism behind a supportive smile.

"Tell me about it,” Wanda huffed, shaking her head. “It's a flaw of his and when the time is right, we'll discuss it and how we can better ourselves. Enough about me though, how about you? Anything exciting that requires you to get out of that hermit crab shell of yours? Maybe with...that TA? Angus, right?"

You snickered but also couldn’t help but notice how Wanda seemed to skirt around anything serious about her relationship with Vision (what a prick). There was a glint of something—maybe uncertainty, maybe resignation—in her eyes when she spoke about him. You wondered if Wanda was just as skilled at pretending everything was fine as you were. It made you feel a little less alone, knowing you weren’t the only one hiding something.

Yet, despite your doubts about the boyfriend, you never voiced your concerns outright. The last thing you wanted was to come across as jealous or possessive. Deep down, you wondered if there was a part of you that simply didn’t want to share Wanda—a feeling you quickly buried before it could grow into something more troubling.

Your face flushed at the mention of Agatha, and you quickly took a sip of water to hide the embarrassment. “Her name is Agnes,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes for effect. So, maybe you kind of lied. Only because you didn't want Wanda to track and stalk the girl. "And she's just intriguing..."

"Intriguing, huh?” Wanda teased. “You should talk to her more. Or, you know, talk to her at all.”

“Very funny,” You shot back. “It’s not that simple.”

But maybe it was. Maybe if you could muster up the courage to actually talk to Agatha, you’d feel less like you were floating aimlessly and more like you were taking control of your own life. You could already hear Wanda’s voice in your head, encouraging you to just go for it, to not overthink it, to take a chance.

[jjkamochoso]

You Look Good in Green

Fluff

Gen Narumi x gn!reader

Request from Wattpad: Gen sees you speaking with Soshiro Hoshina and becomes jealous!

Warnings: none

It was always an interesting time when Third Division visited the Ariake base. The rivalries between members led to lots of banter and a renewed sense of pride for being in the First Division; it was like you all got even closer in the presence of your peers-turned-competitors. Nothing was more entertaining, though, than the roast sessions—er, conversations—between Third Division’s Soshiro Hoshina and your very own Gen Narumi.

“I don’t remember inviting a beady eyed brat onto my base,” snarked Gen upon seeing Soshiro, who was smirking as he approached your captain.

“Oh? Well, it’s a good thing you’re not in charge then,” Soshiro replied coolly. Gen was practically growling at the man, his nemesis never failing to push his buttons.

“Nice to see you again, Vice Captain,” you greeted, trying to maintain the peace and take the heat off Gen for a little bit.

“Now that’s a face I love seeing! How are you holding up over here, L/n? Gettin’ tired of being under the command of this dummy yet?”

Soshiro burst out in laughter at his own joke, holding his stomach and wiping the tears that formed in the corner of his eyes. Gen’s eye started twitching rapidly and you knew it was time to wrap this up before things got too out of control.

“May I show you the way to the conference room, Hoshina?”

“First class treatment from First Division? Never thought I’d see the day. See ya later, Narumi!”

Soshiro waved, grinning widely as you led him away from an annoyed Gen. The captain wasn’t too keen on you spending alone time with the unwelcome visitor, not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t want his partner to go through the horror of having to talk to Hoshina. Gen moped all the way back to his room, hoping to find comfort in a video game or two… or three. He was looking forward to spending a slow morning with you by his side, but now that you were preoccupied elsewhere, he was left to his own devices (literally). As he turned on his BS5, he heard his phone ding with new text messages.

Y/n: somehow got wrapped up in this meeting🙃🔫 won’t be out of here for awhile

Y/n: don’t have too much fun without me🥺🫶

Gen: good luck dealing with the bowl cut baby🥣

You sent a laughing emoji and a thumbs up and Gen knew you were busy at that point so he threw himself into the virtual world in front of him, eager to occupy his mind for the time being. Even while on a winning streak that would normally make him ecstatic, he couldn’t help but fret about how friendly Hoshina was to you. You two were supposed to be mortal enemies, the rivalry between First and Third Divisions running deep, yet you got along quite well. It was enough to make Gen sick to his stomach witnessing you greet Hoshina with kindness and a friendly smile. Your smiles were supposed to be reserved for him and him only, not some cocky Third Division jerk.

Am I jealous?

He snorted.

No way, that would be beyond lame. I just don’t like seeing them together at all. I’m looking out for y/n’s sanity, that’s it. I’m totally chill.

That’s what he convinced himself, at least, but the controller being clutched within his white knuckled grasp begged to differ.

After a few hours, many video games won and lost, and copious amounts of retail therapy at Yamazon.com, Gen was finally rewarded with another message from his beloved partner.

Y/n: survived the meeting. total yapathon 🥱

Y/n: come meet me for lunch?😚🙏

Gen had never gotten up so fast in his life. He threw on whatever pair of shoes were closest to his door as he raced down the halls, excited to rescue you from the snooze fest you had been subjected to the entire morning. As he turned the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. There you were, standing in the doorway of the dining hall looking perfect as ever, but something was terribly wrong: Hoshina was there with you. Gen watched with his mouth agape as you laughed at something the vice captain said, your head thrown back in delight. If that wasn’t bad enough, Hoshina’s hand landed on your shoulder, an action much too intimate for Gen’s liking. His mouth snapped shut in an instant, his teeth clenched so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if a few cracked.

Soshiro Hoshina had made a grave mistake.

Blood boiling, Gen marched over to you, his feet smacking the floor and garnering your attention.

“Sorry I took so long,” you told your peeved boyfriend as he came into earshot, “we got stuck in the meeting. It was beyond boring.”

“Now that I’m here, you won’t have to worry about being bored any longer.”

Gen stood close behind you, a menacing aura emanating from him as he stared down Soshiro, who had calmly dropped his hand from your shoulder.

“Don’t worry Narumi, I kept them entertained the whole time,” the violet haired man teased, and you never knew Gen could feel so tense and bloodthirsty off the battlefield.

“That doesn’t surprise me, considering they love clowns,” he replied, his voice cracking with anger.

“Is that right?” Soshiro asked cheekily, his fangs peeking out. “No wonder you two are dating.”

That was your cue.

“Great talk, Hoshina, thanks for keeping me company. Gen and I are going to eat. I trust that you can find your way out of here?” you asked, softly placing your fingers around Gen’s wrist to stop him from lunging at the cackling vice captain.

“I can. Catch up with you kids later!”

Soshiro walked away, leaving you to deal with a very grumpy Gen.

“Kids? Aren’t we all around the same age?”

You were trying to lighten the mood but Gen didn’t answer you. He barely gave you a second glance as you filled your trays with food and you were starting to worry about what had gotten into him.

“Talk to me, Narumi. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe Hoshina was right in calling us kids if you’re gonna act childish.”

“‘M not childish,” he grumbled, pushing food around his plate.

“Really? Because it looks like you’re pouting right now.”

“According to you, I’m always pouting.”

“And you’re always childish.”

He rolled his eyes but sighed in resignation. “Okay, you got me there.”

You smiled, nudging him with the blunt end of your chopstick. “Spill. I wanna know what’s going on in that handsome head of yours.”

He sighed again. “It’s stupid. Like, really dumb.”

“So, the usual?” you teased, earning a glare from across the table.

“I didn’t like Hoshina talking with you like that.”

You tilted your head. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, like… like he’s your friend or something! Or something more,” he added quietly. What he was feeling, but wouldn’t admit on his own, immediately dawned on you.

“Are you jealous, First Division Captain Gen Narumi?”

“Don’t say that so loud!” he yelled, looking around furiously. “You’re gonna ruin my cool guy reputation!”

“Sure,” you nodded, holding back a giggle. “I take that as a yes, then?”

Gen wouldn’t meet your eyes, staring at his plate again. It was quite endearing seeing him openly care so much about you and you couldn’t deny it felt kind of good having the affirmation of knowing he didn’t want to lose you to another man. However, you hated seeing him sad and stressed out for no reason.

“Gen, baby, look at me.” You took one of his hands in yours as he raised his head, your other hand carding through his floppy bangs and brushing them away from his eyes so he could see how serious you were being. “There’s no need for you to be jealous. You’re the only man I want, there’s no one else for me. You’re it, I promise you that.”

“I hated the way he made you laugh,” he confessed. “That’s my job.”

“Yeah he’s funny, but more in the “coworker-keeps-your-mind-off-the-lame-meeting” sort of way. You’re much funnier.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

You raised his hand to your lips, brushing them across his knuckles as you gave them little kisses. “I could never lie to a pretty face like yours.”

“Ugh, you’re gross,” he complained, turning his head from your view, but you could tell he took your words to heart with the shy smile and light blush on his face he was trying to hide.

“Eat up,” you told him, getting back to munching happily on your meal, “you gotta be energized to be a worthy opponent for me to take on in whatever video game we’re playing for the foreseeable future.”

Gen broke out into a mischievous grin. “You have it all wrong. I’m gonna kick your ass!”

You watched him shovel food into his mouth at an alarming rate as he filled you in on the progress he had made in his earlier gaming session. He then told you about the ridiculous amounts of online purchases that were making your own credit card weep from your pocket.

“I even bought a dartboard,” he said, his eyes gleaming with joy. “I can’t wait to put a picture of Hoshina’s stupid face on it.”

Yep; Gen Narumi was all yours.

[elliespeach]

the air that i breathe | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ "because i can make it quick, or i could make it so much worse." ´ˎ˗

synopsis: a camping trip you and ellie embark on takes a devastating turn. with you in the hands of raiders ellie's sanity is brought to her breaking point and she will stop at nohting to get you back. wordcount: 8.3k + warnings: 18+ ellie n readers headspace is very dark!! depression, panic attacks, horrible desperation, and lots of trauma responses that are vividly described. graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, reader is confined in a cell by chains, food/water deprivation, hallucinations, torture (reader by raiders, ellie to the raiders) ellie is basically santa barabra ellie but multiply it by thirty n reader is like trapped in the dark so i think that counts as claustrophobia. this fic can b very triggering so pls take the tags seriously!! different povs (ellie n reader) they are seperated for most of this fic, theres some fluff in their dreams but thats truly as soft as it gets author note: pls pls read me!! this story came to me randomly, its not a traditional fic in my eyes but i hope u guys like it nonetheless!! the name comes from the show bridgerton, one of violets lines towards her husband and i was like THAT is true love so here we are :) theres a lot of in game elements to this story on ellie's part so i hope i did that justice :)) i'm a lil nervous to post this im ngl so pls be kind and lmk if yall like it plsssss i beg of u i wanna make this a multi part fic esp w the way it ends so any feedback will be appreciated!! ily guys enjoy

ellie’s pov 

– three days after the kidnapping

the first thing ellie hears is the low, familiar voices of joel and tommy. as their mumbled conversation rings through her ears, her head throbs. a groan escapes her lips, bringing her hand up weakly to rub it as if it would help. ellie opened her eyes slowly, the pain intensifying from the sun shining through the windows. her vision came to focus, looking around it was the infirmary in jackson. she was laid down in one of the beds and when her eyes landed on joel and tommy, they looked at her sympathetically. 

joel took small steps toward her, barely able to make eye contact. “how ya feelin’ kiddo?” he asked, painfully sitting himself down at the end of her bed. ellie wasn’t able to read him clearly, and then she started thinking. why am i in this bed? her mind raced and it must’ve been obvious to her company because joel spoke again. “it’s gonna be okay.” 

she frantically searched through her foggy mind, everything was so blurry and out of order. she thought of you. the only thing that came to the front of her mind with ease. the camping trip, she thought to herself. she saw you in her head, all bundled up in the sleeping bag and wearing ellie’s shirt. her lips began to curl at the ends before she realized you weren’t here by her bedside. she remembers leaving the tent that night, for what reason she doesn’t know, but you stayed behind, cuddled up in the sleeping bag.

thats when– your scream. it echoed in her head, taunting her. the quiet forest that surrounded the two of you amplified your terrified scream and ellie’s face grimaced at the memory. she knows she ran to you, why was i so far away from you? her brain was waking up and with it, horrible images flashed in front of her. the tent that had been cut open, the rusty old pick-up truck, the men that had you in their grasp, the last glance ellie had of you before the bud of a gun was slammed into her head. it all came flooding back in an instant. 

ellie looked up at joel, tears brimming over her eyes. she spoke in a low voice, but despite the tears that fought to fall, her tone was flat. “where is she?” 

joel was quick to answer, “we’ve been tracking them–” 

“how long have i been out?” she boomed, trying to sit up but her brain pounded against her skull, forcing her back down in the bed. joel moved up, sitting closer to her but couldn’t find the words, his heart ached for ellie. he looked to tommy with a solemn expression, and his little brother stepped forward. 

“it’s been three days, ellie,” tommy vocalized softly. “we’re doin’ all we can, i promise.” 

“obviously it’s not fucking enough!” ellie shouted, pinching the bridge of her nose and shutting her eyes tight. you came to mind when she did, usually she pictures you happily; picking a flower and tucking in her hair, taking a nap on ellie’s couch with your head in her lap, posing while she drew you. you were the spitting image of innocence in her mind. but as her eyes shut now, all she could see was the absolutely heart-wrenching image of your face as you were thrown into the truck. 

her eyes opened almost immediately, unable to see it even for a second longer. her cheeks became wet as the tears poured out of her, her breathing became erratic and she clutched her chest. joel was quick to comfort her but it only did so little. “we-we have to fi-find her,” ellie managed to speak through panicked breaths, feeling her chest about to burst. 

the pain in her head was nothing compared to this, and it almost felt non-existent in the face of you being gone. being with them. whoever they are, whatever they want with you. they should have taken me. it should have been me. it should have been me. it should hav–

“ellie, breath–” joel cooed next to her, rubbing her back and removing her from her thoughts. “we’ll find her.” 

“i’m co-coming with you,” her chest was still heaving and she felt like she’d never breathe right again. not until you were standing next to her. 

tommy sighed, barely audible over ellie’s apparent panic-attack. “you’re on bed rest, kid. i’m sorry. but we will bring her back to you.” 

his words felt like daggers and she was quick to respond. “if you think for one sec–” 

“it’s not up for discussion, ellie.” joel interjected, his voice was soft but stern. and ellie scoffed through the tears, looking at joel harshly. 

before ellie could spew a rant to him, tommy spoke, “we think they’re on the border of utah. were going tomorrow at first light and when we come back she will too. okay?” 

ellie’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, and as her breathing became somewhat normal she was able to think. play it cool. “o-okay,” let them think i won’t go anywhere. “my head r-really hurts. gonna sleep for now,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket up and over her head. she laid with her back turned to them and she felt the bed move beside her. joel and tommy mumbled another string of words to each other before ellie heard the door creek open. 

“rest up, kiddo. she’s gonna be okay.” joel said to her sympathetically and ellie remained quiet under her covers, plotting her escape. 

she slept for another few hours. she knew she had to wait until night time anyway, there was no use in staying awake and plaguing her thoughts with what is happening to you. but as she slept her mind played horrible tricks on her, she dreamt of saving you that night. brutally slaying the men who had dared to even think about touching you, their blood stained her dreams but at the end of it you were in her arms. 

when she woke up alone, her reality came crashing back down. it forced her to sit up, ignoring her head that was killing her slowly. there was no night time infirmary nurse and she knew now was her only opportunity to sneak away. the clock on the pale blue walls read one in the morning, jackson was asleep. the only people she would need to avoid were night patrols, and the guards around the armory. 

she hauled herself out of bed, her feet dragging on the cold floor and she located her bag. her clothes from the camping trip were tucked inside and she quickly changed. ellie tried to picture the men’s faces, and all that came to her were figures whisking you away. she decided it was best to not think about it, but it was a lot easier said than done and she found herself shaking her head frequently to rid the images from her mind. 

slipping out of the infirmary was easy, a small house on the corner of a dead end street. the streetlamps had been turned off by now, saving power and ellie easily made her way towards the armory. she approached in a crouch, hiding behind a bush in the shadows. she watched as the guards were laughing, telling stories and all around not paying attention. the armory was a larger building near the stables, the guards were circled around a makeshift booth at the front.

sneaking to the side of the building she tugged open a window and crawled inside. she loaded herself with her usual rifle that she took on patrols. taking it down from the wall she stared at it for too long, remembering the day she taught you how to shoot.

“all you have to do is point, aim and–” 

“if you say point, aim and fire one more time.” you laughed at her, your attention shifting between the gun and ellie. 

“i’m just trying to help you, pumpkin.” 

instead of making her feel soft and warm, the memory made her go cold. she couldn’t place you, your face was a cloudy mess in her mind but your voice rang true. her eyes glossed over, hearing your laugh in her head and all she could think of what she would do to these people once she found them. in a haze she stuffed supplies in her bag, a surplus of ammo for her rifle and pistol and then some. she removed her switchblade from her bag and put it in her back pocket for easy access, throwing a trench knife into the backpack just in case. 

she was almost back of out the window she came in when she realized the trip was going to be long, and she had no food in her bag whatsoever. sighing, she looked around. the left over food from the guards littered the small counter to the side of the room. sandwiches and nuts and ellie figured it would have to do and before long she was sneaking to her usual spot in the fence. 

the walk to it was familiar, she had done it with you a thousand times. it was a loose panel of wood that to the unknowing eye would be a secured fence, but with a gentle tug, it gave way. ellie and you had discovered it one day, and it quickly became your get-a-way whenever one of you wanted to escape the confines of the walls. there was a small over-look just beyond the wall, about a ten minute walk from jackson. ellie had drawn you there with the landscape behind you, the picture is hanging on the wall in her garage and she cherishes it like it was gold. 

she pictured you there, trying to remember how peaceful you were to her. like the calm in the storm that was her life. all she could conjure was that night so she dropped it and viciously bit her cheeks with frustration. ellie came to the broken piece of wood, taking a quick look around before pushing it and then herself through the gap. the forest beyond was still and quiet. peaceful almost. putting the board back in place, she turned and headed for the highway. 

readers pov

– day of the kidnapping

the last you saw ellie she was falling to the ground as she came up to your campsite. the man who had been hiding behind the tree knocked her out with a swift blow to the head. you cried out, thrashing in the hands of the man who had lifted you from the ground. “fucking let go of me!” you shouted as your world tumbled around you, you fell into the bed of the truck with a hard smack, pain shot up your spine and you groaned, rolling over. 

the man jumped up onto the back of the truck, making it wobble with his weight. you crawled backwards instinctively, your eyes darting from him and your motionless girlfriend on the ground yards away. your stomach turned as he pulled his fist back and there was nothing you could do before he brought it down heavily onto your skull and everything went black. 

while unconscious, your mind brought you back to ellie’s room. her stereo playing softly as you sat on her bed, watching her read the same book she always did. her eyes scanned the pages as if she had never seen it before. she was laying on her stomach, legs dangling over the side of the bed as she flipped the pages. it was a book about the constellations in the sky and every so often she would show you a page and say it reminded her of you. “this one–” she showed you, a cheeky smile on her face as she turned the book towards you. 

“that just looks like lines, els.” you chuckled at her while you examined the page. you never understood her when she spoke about space, but you liked to hear her ramble. her voice was so comforting to you and it always brought you back down to earth. 

“no, no, pumpkin, look–” she pointed with her fingers on the page, outlining the stars. “its cassiopeia on her throne. d’ya see it?” her soft green eyes met yours, a hopeful look in them. 

you didn’t see it, you just saw lines on a page but ellie’s enthusiasm poured through her and who were you to deny her of it. “yeah, i see it,” you lied, getting closer to get a better look hoping it will just come to you. “why do you say that?” 

“dunno,” she shrugged, looking back to the page. “but it says here she was a queen, so i think that’s why.” 

her words always left you feeling like the most special person, and to ellie you were. you playfully hit her with a pillow, causing a mildly loud “ow!” from her. 

“you’re so fucking cheesy,” you smiled, hitting her again with the pillow. as you brought it down on her she grabbed it. ellie moved quickly and sat on her knees as she struggled to take the pillow from you. she looked down at you, back against the bed and giggling so sweetly. she was able to snatch the pillow, throwing it to the side and leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“you love it, shut up.” her words bounced off your face and she pulled her face down to be directly in front of yours. her eyes stared into yours and you could see just how much she loved you on full display within her green eyes. she leaned in to kiss you and as her lips brushed against yours, the world around you melted away. 

you felt cold and you could swear your eyes were open but you couldn’t see anything. you felt around, the ground beneath you was solid and ragged and as you moved you heard the clanking of chains. moving your hands down your legs you sensed the frigid metal that encased your ankle, following the chain with your hands to a bolt in the wall. 

the walls had the same texture as the floor and you began to panic. you recounted the last memory you had, ellie laying on the ground. the man punching you in the face. reaching up to touch your sensitive skin, a sharp pain came from your cheek and you gasped. incoherent curses came stringing out of your mouth that quickly turned to yelling. you shouted for ellie, her name bounced off of the walls around you and with every call unanswered the hope inside you diminished. the darkness was over-bearing and you were forced to picture every horrible thing these people could do to you simply just because they could. your voice, that was still begging for ellie, became hoarse. a lump settled in your throat from wailing and you felt sick to your stomach.

you knew none of this was helpful. the screaming, the wailing, but you couldn’t help it. the emotions poured out of you until there was nothing left, ellie could be dead and you were locked up god knows where. you hadn’t even begun to think of why they had taken you, your head was too jambled to think straight. and after what seemed like hours in the black void of your cell, a dim light flickered on and came peeking beneath a door you didn’t even know was there. it illuminated the room just enough to see that cement encased you behind the metal door. 

with a click of a lock the door opened and the sudden light hitting your eyes made you jump, shielding your face with your hands. you heard footsteps approach you slowly but stop a few feet away. a cold hand came up to your forearm and you swung, trying to keep whoever this was away from you at all costs. but their cold hands grasped your arms, forcing you to look upon them. the dim overhead light in the next room outlined the man in front of you, you couldn’t make out a face but he was brutish, and he smelled like a campfire. 

“don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” the man growled, the taunting in his voice was sinister.  

you used all the energy you could to spit in his face and he recoiled, letting go of your arms to wipe his face and he took a step back. “fuck you!” you snarled, spit leaving your mouth with the anger that boiled inside of you. 

he chuckled as he wiped the remaining spit from his face, “we could have killed you, ya know?” the man muttered, taking small strides towards the metal door. his hand reached for the wall, turning on an overhead light in your cell. looking around, it seemed to be a basement. you could see stairs past the door to the cement room and as you peered through the door, the man repositioned himself in front of your face. 

you didn’t say anything and his head cocked to the side as he knelt in front of you. “but we didn’t, do you know why?” his tone was antagonizing and as your eyes adjusted you could make out his face, a large scar was centered by his nose as if he had been cut. you shook your head at his question, not wanting to speak. also because your throat stung from the previous screaming. 

“well,” he looked to the side, using his hands on his knees to hoist himself back up to his feet and he towered over you. “i would have told you but–” he motioned to his face, still glistening from your spit. “maybe tomorrow.” his words were fast, he turned on his heel and headed for the door. 

in a panic you lurched forward, arm out and you tried to stop him. your ankle tugging on the chain as you reached for him.“wait, please don’t!” came rushing out of your mouth but it was too late. the light was switched off and as the door shut behind him, you were enveloped in the darkness yet again. 

— four days after the kidnapping

the black void of your cell had become never ending. after the man with the scar left, the only time anyone would open the door was to give you as little food as possible. keeping you weak and unable to fight back, but alive just enough to do whatever they had planned. if you had been told you were here for a week you would have believed it, time moves weird in the dark and you never knew what time of the day it was, if they were swerving you breakfast or dinner– you had no idea. 

at first you tried to stand, to pace around and get your body moving. after a while it became too repetitive and you fell to your knees, tired and disoriented. you hadn’t moved an inch since, just laying curled up on the floor with your back to the door. the only thing that kept you occupied besides sleeping was reliving memories, playing them over and over again in your head. they were all of ellie, her freckled face and auburn hair and that stupid constellations book. 

she was your every waking thought and even slipped her way into your dreams. ellie was the only thing keeping you from going completely insane in the darkness. you could picture her so clearly, but when you thought about her voice it never sounded right. you were only able to hear it in your dreams, but when you woke it slipped away like water in your hands. traceable, but not recognisable. you made it your mission to remember, a small controllable goal in a situation so far out of your hands and it provided a sense of comfort. as much as it could. 

you were tracing her name over the cold ground beneath you, whispering it softly as if it was a crime when you drifted off once again. it had become routine and a sure fire way to make sure she was in your dreams, her voice and all. this time your dreams planted you in the memory of watching her favorite movie together, curled up on the couch with your head in her lap and her hands playing in your hair. 

“don’t get attached to her,” ellie said casually above you, pointing to the small tv. you groaned, looking up at her and her innocent eyes met yours. 

“you spoil every movie, els.” you say with a fake annoyance in your voice, playfully swatting at the hand pointing to the tv. 

“i didn’t say what happens to her!” her hands go up defensively, looking down at you in her lap. her face had been speckled with sun freckles from the previous day, leaving it absolutely covered from her chin to her forehead. even her eyebrow slit had a few small dots in it, and you found it hard to be annoyed with her. 

turning your attention back to the movie with an unsure mhm, your eyes left hers and for a moment there was silence. and ellie couldn’t help herself, she mumbled, “exceptshetotallygetschoppedinhalf.” 

you sprung up, your head leaving her lap, positioning yourself next to her on your knees. swiftly you propelled her down and straddled her torso. dramatic gasps left her mouth and she placed her hands on your hips, looking you up and down. “you’re gonna pay for that, you know,” you said to her, cupping her face with one hand. 

“i’m soooo scared, pumpkin” she teased, and as the words left her mouth it was like someone had pressed the mute button. her lips moved, and she was definitely talking but her voice was gone, like it had blown away in the wind. the nickname you cherished so deeply from her inaudible and as you realized this your eyes snapped open. the darkness was back, and ellie was gone, along with her voice. 

you tried to cling on to it, but the harder you tried to remember it, the further it went in your mind. if you weren’t so dehydrated, you’d be crying and thrashing around, desperately hoping for her voice to come back to you. but instead being too weak to do anything, you pulled your legs up to your chest and laid in the silence. you didn’t know how long you had been asleep, not that it mattered anyway, but your stomach was feeling emptier than ever before so it must have been a while. 

remnants of your dream flashed in your mind and your hand placed itself on your face as ellie had always done, imagining it was her. imagining her coming to save you, her holding you. every thought that consumed you was her. she can’t be dead. you repeat to yourself like your own little mantra. she isn’t dead.

time shifted again and you heard footsteps coming down the stairs beyond the door. the metal door clicked and opened as it always did, but instead of food being thrown at you in the dark, the lightswitch flicked on. your eyes nearly burst from the pain after being in the dark for so long and you covered them with your hands. “ready to talk like a civilized person?” the raspy voice spoke and you removed your hands from your face, squinting your eyes until they adjusted. 

you nodded slightly and the man with the scar sighed, “good,” he crouched in front of you and you locked eyes with him, anger filling you up head to toe but you fought against it. “where’d we leave off, huh?” 

“w-why you took me,” your voice was small and you realized you hadn’t actually talked in days besides muttering ellie’s name to yourself. 

“right!” he exclaimed loudly, making you jump as it echoed off the walls. “you seemed valuable, at least to that girl,” as he acknowledged ellie, your face lit up and you hung on to his words. “so we figured, you’d be a good bargaining chip for food and whatnot.” 

the nonchalantness in his voice made your skin crawl and your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. “and you think giving me back like this will get you what you want?” you asked, your voice slowly returning. the man looked down on you with a smug expression. 

“if they want you back alive, yeah. i do. we’re gonna send a party to your town to give them our demands for you,” his finger grazed your leg and you snaked it back. the chains rattled as you did and a chuckle came from him. “we just need to know exactly what you people got.” 

worry swirled around inside of you and you knew what ellie would do in this situation, so you remained as strong as you could, picturing her in your mind. “i’m not telling you anything–” 

“it’s your choice,” he sighed, reaching into his back pocket. he pulled out a small knife and it was too similar to ellie’s for your liking. “just know you can change your mind at anytime.” with that, his knife pierced your skin and your screams filled the room. 

ellie’s pov

— five days after the kidnapping

ellie had been traveling on foot for two days now. her head still ached with the concussion she suffered and her feet felt like they were on fire with every step. everytime she felt like stopping, a foggy image of you would cross her mind and she would keep going. she only stopped when she was practically falling over, hours after the sun had gone down.

by the second day, her legs were giving out on her. she stumbled into the underbrush to the side of the road, falling to her knees and then flat on her stomach. too exhausted to eat and sleep came easy to her. she knew it would only be an hour of sleep but she physically couldn’t go any further tonight. so she embraced sleep, knowing it would only make her nightmares surface yet again. 

tonight her nightmare seemed to be a complete recollection of that night. she was in the tent with you and you rambled about a book you had borrowed from dina. ellie was rifling through her backpack, looking for the constellations book. she had promised to show you cassiopeia on her throne in the night sky, but her book wasn’t in her bag. “i fuckin’ packed it,” she said mindlessly, dumping her belongings out onto your sleeping bag. 

“it’s okay, we can find it without the book.” you reassured her, a soft smile on your face as you did. 

“no, there was– ugh,” she sighed, accepting defeat. you looked at her, a puzzled expression on your face that she couldn’t quite see. “i had something for you, it was in the book.” 

“i’m sure whatever it was, i’ll love it when we get back just as much.” you leaned up, planting a delicate kiss on her lips. ellie’s worry washed away and placed a hand to your cheek when you pulled apart. 

 thats when the silent forest came to life. animals could be heard sprinting between trees, and the birds caulking as they were so rudely woken up by whatever had scared them. ellie’s head turned to the opening in the tent and you grabbed her arm, forcing her to look back to you. 

she saw the usual cloudy mess instead of your face, but in her dreams it seemed to be normal. she sat up, rubbing the arm that clutched hers before she spoke. “probably just a runner, i’ll be right back.” she kissed the top of the blur and felt the grip loosen around her arm. 

“be quick–” you whispered to her as she left the warm tent into the chill air. ellie looked around the campsite, not seeing anything but the noises of the animals still alarmed her, so she expanded her search. 

she had wandered down to the small creek about twenty yards from you, hoping the sound of the rushing water had attracted the infected but there was none in sight and as she turned to make her way back to you, and the night you had planned, your shriek came barreling through the trees. 

not hesitating for a second, ellie was running. her fists pumping at her sides like a madman, she didn’t have time to think about what could possibly be tormenting you, but when she bursted into the campsite and her eyes locked on you, thrashing in the grasp of a random man, her heart sank to her stomach. your face was no longer blurred, she could see every detail that made your face so perfect but your terrified expression haunted her and the gun coming down on her head sprung her awake. 

the sun hadn’t risen yet and her surroundings were still dark. she pushed herself off the ground, not wanting to go back to sleep until you were next to her. coming from the trees that lined the highway, she kept going. the little rest she got was enough to propel her forward and while she walked her mind wandered. it wasn’t long before the sound of morning birds snapped her out of a haze and as she looked up from her feet she saw a welcome to utah sign. it was still dark, probably the very beginning of the morning and ellie noticed smoke coming from the trees just behind the sign. 

not hesitating she moved closer, taking her steps slowly and lowering herself to the ground, she pushed past the trees and saw the makings of a camp. a giant fire roared in the middle of all the people sleeping around it. her eyes landed on the man to the left, furthest from the horses and a picture flashed in her mind. he laid there peacefully, but ellie recognized him as the man who had knocked her out. and suddenly her thoughts halted themselves and her feet moved for her. 

knowing she could never take all of them at once, especially as exhausted as she was, ellie decided on a different plan. starting with the woman closest to the horses, she positioned herself right next to her and grabbed the knife she had placed in her pocket. ellie’s hand covered the womans mouth and her eyes opened harshly. without a second thought, she sliced the knife along the neck of the panicked woman. 

the fires crackling was enough to mask the sound of her blood gurgling from the wound. the woman grasped at ellie desperately trying to save her own life but her movements soon slowed, her arms falling to her sides. removing her hand, she moved on to the next one. watching as the life drained from him as well as he struggled to alert his friends. ellie had gone glossy eyed, and if she was being honest she wasn’t in full control of her actions. her mind only had one goal, and these people stood in her way. they caused this. they deserve it. 

blood spattered onto her face while she glided the switchblade across the neck of the third man, once he had stopped fighting back and his eyes were staring blankly up into the sky ellie locked her own eyes on the final man. the one who had prevented her from saving you, now that it was only him left she stomped over to him. as she approached him, her chest was heaving and blood dripped from her face.

she stood over him for a moment, watching as he slept peacefully. cocking her head to the side, she kicked him harshly in the stomach. immediately he rolled over, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain. ellie drove her foot into his now exposed back and he cried out in pain yet again. despite his pain, the man tried to get away. crawling on his hands and knees as quickly as he could, he only made it a few feet when the sound of ellie’s gun cocking made him stop in his tracks. 

“turn around,” ellie grunted, her breathing more heavy than before. the man did as he was told, and as he did his eyes widened at the sight of ellie, covered in blood, sweat and dirt. they wandered past her, looking upon his dead friends and his hands raised to the side of his head. 

“take it all–” 

“you remember me?” her voice was low, hushed even and as the terrified man studied her face his eyebrows raised slightly, and ellie’s lips threatened to curl at the ends. “yeah, you remember me.” 

the man remained quiet in his realization and ellie’s gaze directed itself at the paper poking out from his pocket. the fire illuminated the camp just enough to see it was a map and she motioned her gun towards it, “you’re gonna show me exactly where she is.” her voice was flat but firm. 

“i can’t do that–” his voice trembled and his words were cut off by ellie moving closer to him, her gun now directly in his face. 

“you don’t have a fucking choice!” she shouted, ripping the map from his pocket while her gun remained closely trained on him. she laid it flat on the ground, crouching down to his level and staring him down. he shook his head feverishly, terrified of ellie but even more concerned about her finding their base. while he refused to speak, she had grown tired of waiting and with her available hand took her switchblade and dug it deeply into his thigh and twisted with all her strength.

he wailed, losing balance on his knees and falling to his side. ellie removed the knife, wiping it clean on her jeans before lowering her head to him. “you’d better start fucking talking.” 

the gun was still pointed to his face and he looked at her with disdain, “i’m fucking dead anyway why would i tell you anything.” he said breathlessly, trying to cover the hole in his leg with his hands and failing miserably. 

“because i can make it quick,” she twirled her switchblade in her fingers, grazing it over his cheeks as he winced back. “or i could make it so much worse.” 

“fuck you!” he spat with all his might and ellie dug her knife into his arm, sliding it down while it tore open his flesh. his screams filled the woods around them and in a desperate attempt to save his life, he reached for her gun. 

it pointed up and ellie fired at the sudden scramble. the man tackled her to the ground, pinning her down and fighting to take the gun from her hand. in the tussle, her switchblade fell from her grasp and landed a few feet away. in a panic she fought for the gun, kneeing the man in the stomach as hard as she could but he remained firm on top of her. her free hand swung up, knocking him on the head and his grip on the gun loosened. as she yanked it back, it slipped from her own hands and fell to the ground. while he was stunned from her punch, ellie managed to throw him off of her. she rolled around, looking on the ground for her gun but it blended in so well with the dirt and sticks she couldn’t see it. 

taking a quick look back to the man, he had picked up a rather large rock and tried smashing it down on her head. ellie moved, nearly missing having her head bashed in and she noticed her blade glistening in the now rising sun. she army crawled as the man grasped at her legs to pull her back. her fingers fiddled with the handle before she was able to firmly wrap her hand around it. as she did, the man dragged her back towards him and while he tried to position himself on top of her, ellie plunged the switchblade deep into his chest. the crunch of it piercing his sternum confirmed it was a deadly hit and she watched as he lost any hope to stay alive. 

his mouth hung open in shock, looking down to the puncture wound and his hands went to grasp around it. his legs straddled ellie’s torso, allowing the blood that poured from it to fall directly onto her. the man coughed and instead of spit, blood spewed from his mouth staining his teeth in the process before he fell over beside her. ellie didn’t move, her breathing erratic from the fight. 

the man gurgled on his own blood for a moment before it got quiet again, the woods silent as ever except for her heaving breaths. her hands fell to her sides and she gazed up to the sky, the stars still burning brightly above the trees. all of her exhaustion hit her at once like a truck and she fought to keep her eyes from closing. right before she thought sleep would consume her and she would have to relive her worst nightmare all over again, she saw the makings of a constellation. at first, it wasn’t recognizable, just another clump of stars in the galaxy. but when it clicked in her mind, she propped herself up on her elbows and the tiredness melted away. it was cassiopeia. 

that was everything she needed. ellie got up with a new surge of energy, taking the map with her and anything else she could find useful. she strode away from the grim scene on their horse, following the map to the first exit off the utah highway. with the horse, the rest of the journey seemed like light work. it was only an hour before she spotted the fences to the community. 

tying the horse to a hidden tree for a get-away, she circled the small town. the fence was chain linked and she watched inside as the town woke up to start their day. ellie was able to see that only a small amount of people woke up this early, leaving the streets barely occupied. 

staying in the shadows, she slipped under the fence that was poorly secured. she found herself in between two small houses, ellie could make out mumbled words from the street so she moved up, making sure to stay as close to the wall of the house as possible. 

“....hopefully they will come back with the stuff by tomorrow.” a woman's voice could be heard, ellie dared not to peek around the corner and listened further to their conversation. 

“we don’t even know if they have anything, we could be chasing a dead end.” ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as the second voice spoke. she figured they were talking about the group she had slaughtered, but could jackson be the dead end they were speaking about? is that why they wanted you?

“just gotta hope for the best, i guess.” the woman spoke again before her footsteps could be heard walking away. ellie’s body tensed up, quickly her mind showed her the haunting image of your face and she shook her head, focusing her eyes around the corner. she caught a glimpse of the woman walking down the sidewalk, leaving the man to stand in front of the house alone. he was reading a note intensely and ellie took a look around to make sure her coast was clear. 

she came up behind him, swiftly covering his mouth and dragging him back between the houses for cover. she ripped the note from his hands and used the bandana that had been around his head to cover his mouth and threw him to the ground. while she examined the note, her pistol was focused on him keeping him in place. 

residents be advised that your council is doing all they can to provide for you. we are currently bartering with a town in wyoming for food, and unlike last time, we are sure they will be more than happy to provide.

ellie balled up the paper in her fists, scoffing and throwing it beside the man. “the girl, where is she?” ellie hissed at him, keeping her voice low. he mumbled through the bandana and she rolled her eyes. “don’t fucking scream, you can make it out of this.” she said before pulling the bandana down. 

the mans eyes were wide with fear as he looked upon ellie, but he spoke fast and quietly while darting his eyes between her and the gun. “i don’t know about a girl, i really don’t plea–” 

ellie shook her head before snatching his wrist in her hand, bending his finger back and he winced. “okay, okay okay,” he rushed out, feeling his finger about to snap. “our hunters, they came back a few days ago with something they wouldn’t tell anyone about,” he paused, looking at ellie and her grip loosened. 

“keep talking.” she ordered him and he stammered his words, trying to desperately abide by her rules. 

“usually they bring the meat to the kitchen but-but they parked the truck outside of our leaders house, said it was nothing but it didn-didn’t look like nothin’.” 

ellie moved the gun into his neck, nuzzling it right below his ear and his breathing hitched up. “where?”

“go left do-down the street, the truck is old you can’t miss it!” ellie knew the truck all too well and without another word she removed the gun from his neck and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

“thanks–” ellie whispered as her switchblade lodged itself in his neck. he didn’t scream, just looked at her wide-eyed as he tried to stop his neck from bleeding. ellie didn’t wait around, his blood still bubbling as she walked away, turning left down the street. 

she was careful, she moved down the street hiding behind cars, bushes and whatever else she could find. when she was starting to think the man had given her bad information, the truck came into view. it was parked blissfully in the driveway of a quaint looking house. she found herself climbing through an open window on the first floor, escaping the street and its peering eyes. ellie landed in the living room of the house, it wasn’t decorated, the walls were blank and the furniture looked like it was rotting away. 

that's when she heard voices coming from upstairs, she almost ascended the stairs herself but the voices were coming closer. she hid behind the dusty couch as the stairs creaked and found herself in the company of two men who had no idea she was eavesdropping. 

“we already sent the group, why do you need more from her?” the raspy voice uttered, a hint of annoyance laced in his tone. 

ellie heard a long sigh, “because they could become our primary suppliers. as long as we have her, they will give us whatever we want. for as long as we want.” the second man spoke with a heavy country accent and her blood boiled, she stopped herself from jumping the two, instead listening for more information. 

“she wasn’t very forthcoming the first time–” 

his voice was cut off, “well fuckin’ make her. i told you whatever it takes.” another sigh filled her ears, and she wasn’t sure who had done it but feet were stomping away and she glanced around the couch. she witnessed a bald man opening a door down a dark hallway, while the man who had the accent went back upstairs. her brain was split, but she knew they wouldn’t have kept you upstairs so she followed the bald man with the raspy voice, opening the door silently and descending the stairs that were behind it. 

the end of the staircase opened up to a dimly lit basement, it was unfinished and dirty. she caught a glance at a metal door at the opposite end of the room before turning her attention back to the bald man, who was crouching down beside a workbench. it was lined with tools, but ellie knew what they were for. so as fast as she could, she approached him. he was barely able to turn around before she tackled him to the ground. the man was big but being caught off guard helped ellie as her hands gripped around his neck. 

she put all of her body weight into his neck, he was choking and failing his arms around at ellie. it didn’t phase her, even when he had slapped her across the face in his panic. her face was contorting with all the exertion and she stared down at him, never breaking eye contact. a scar was slashed across his face and she recognized this as the man who had thrown you into the truck, the image coming to her clearly. his eyes were bulging from their sockets and his legs were kicking with a passion but as ellie came to this realization she jerked her hands down, the applied pressure breaking his neck under her hands and he immediately went limp. 

in a cloudy haze she stood up, catching her breath and looking around for a key. she practically threw everything off of the workbench in front of her and when she didn’t find it she moved back to the man on the floor. she dug through his pockets and her fingers found a small metal key. 

she walked towards the metal door slowly. now that she was here, she was terrified of what she would see behind the door. she put the key into the lock and turned, earning a click. she breathed out all the air in her lungs before pushing it open and her heart was beating faster than she had ever known possible. the room was dark, and seemed empty. the light from the other room allowed her to see a small switch on the wall and she flicked it on, now fearing you werent even here. 

but you were. the light came on and your hands flew to your face shielding your eyes. ellie’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears seeing you. she took a step forward, taking off her backpack and laying it on the ground beside her. you were so obviously injured, puncture wounds up and down your legs with dried blood surrounding them. the chain around your ankle had almost embedded itself in your skin, resulting in a horrible looking bruise that had worked its way up your leg. ellie breathlessly said your name, tears falling from her eyes and your hands moved from your face slowly. 

your eyes weren’t adjusted, you just saw a blurry figure in front of you but you could have sworn you heard her voice. the voice that had escaped you every time you tried to hold on to it, and you thought your brain was playing a cruel prank. “please don’t,” you uttered quietly, fearing she was the man with the scar coming back to torture you more. 

ellie dropped to her knees in front of you, looking at your battered body not able to form words. they had broken you, and she blamed herself. anger brewed inside of her but in this moment, she remained soft spoken. “it’s me,” she whispered, reaching her hand out to touch your leg which you snaked away, still not believing she was actually there. you believed you were so desperate to see her, to hear her, that she materialized out of thin air. but that meant you were truly losing your sanity and you could barely look at her. 

“its not you–” you said back to her, looking to the floor and ellie’s eyes shut tightly to hold back anymore tears. you had backed up all the way to the wall, leaving ellie in the center of the room. she slowly moved to you as you watched her from your peripheral view.

she came up in front of you, “it’s me, pumpkin,” and placed a hand to your shallow cheek as she always had done. 

feeling her warm hands on your face, you met her eyes. her warmth couldn’t be your imagination and your own eyes welled up as she dragged her thumb carelessly across your cheek. her appearance didn’t even phase you, all you cared about was her. “ellie,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and placing your hand on top of hers that cupped your face. “you’re actually here?” your voice was small and faint, and it felt like ellie was stabbed in the heart. 

the blur that ruined her memories of you was gone. even the image of you being whisked away was gone. she scanned your still perfect face, it’s only faults being sunken in from hunger and bruising that littered your cheeks but it was still perfection to her. she felt more relief than she had when she killed the man in the woods, and the bald man that still laid a few feet away. you were here in front of her, finally.  ellie couldn’t help but smile at you, all her efforts hadn’t been in vain. 

“i’m actually here,” she repeated to you, connecting your foreheads together. “i found you.” 

ellie leaned back, inches from your face. her voice rang in your ears and you felt like you were floating with every word that came from her mouth after missing it for so long. you managed a smile for her. she was so close to you that you had barely seen the figure towering over her from behind, your mouth began to form her name to warn her but it was too late. the figure smashed ellie over the head and she fell unconscious beside you. 

[jeonghantis]

hehe since ur requests are open, is it okay to request a scenario with joshua? i've been missing him tons lately ahdhsq

how do you think he would deal with getting all pent up when he's overseas or touring around while his s/o is back home? would he prefer sexting, phone sex, or a full on video call 😭

ofc you can choose to ignore this if it's too much dw !!

✧ — MENACE! (h.js)

PAIRING ⇝ hong jisoo x reader.

TAGS ⇝ established relationship, smut, idol!joshua.

WARNINGS ⇝ language, gn!reader but with female parts & wears lingerie, use of the petname "baby", explicit sexual content (MINORS, DNI!).

WORD COUNT ⇝ 2.4k words.

note: kai.. :) here’s the thing, i do think with joshua would be up for any of those but sexting would probably be the most used out of them all. but here's a little peek into the development from sexting to video calls. i hope this'll help lift ur mood a lil. ♡ i hope you all enjoy! and and god i wish i could better format the texts but i hope it's not too confusing!

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

explicit warnings under the cut.

EXPLICIT WARNINGS ⇝ sexting, filmed masturbation (f & m), use of rabbit vibrator (f), pillow humping (m), squirting, cum shot, wap (wet ass pussy) reader, spit as lube, mentions of orgasm denial, mentions of penetrative sex, alludes to dom!shua (he can be cruel and teasing :) )

Joshua saw red.

It was not out of anger. It was much on the contrary.

Red lingerie. New red lingerie laced itself around your body, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You sat on the edge of your bed with legs spread wide and the flimsy excuse of a thong you wore left little to his imagination. There was a smug expression on your face, and in your hand was something he recognized with ease. It was a violet rabbit vibrator, a gift he had given you and one he had intended to use on you himself.

Joshua saw red, a little bit of it now out of anger, for this image of you was not happening in real time before him, but on the tiny screen of his phone.

My Love: hi, darling! by the time you see this, you must be so exhausted from your concert. i could not be more proud of you for working as hard as you do :(( so i thought i might reward you &lt;3

My Love: Sent a video.

Joshua didn't waste any more breaths and pressed play. 

“Hi, baby,” your voice floats immediately from the phone speakers and fills the air of his much too empty hotel room, tone sultry and lilted. You were smiling and waving around the vibrator in front of the camera. “I thought you’d like to see me try out your gift for the first time.”

“Well, shit.” Joshua lets out a baffled laugh and adjusts himself on the couch, leaning back and spreading his legs wide as if to alleviate the building pressure between them. He could pull his sweats down, but thought better of it. He might have much better plans after. 

Keen and hungry eyes watch your every movement. It’s unfaltering when you pull your thong to your side and bring the toy to your cunt already slicked and glistening to which Joshua could assume you had prepped yourself beforehand with your own fingers and the imagery didn’t help his waning sanity. As you begin to tease yourself and rub the blunt tip all over your slit, he catches a glimpse of your fluttering hole, grasping desperately at nothing. He remembered once how he had laughed at the sight, at your mewling, when he had denied you of your orgasm after fingering you so close to the edge. He had laughed again when he sheathed his cock inside you not long after, feeling that delicious pulse of your warm channel around him. 

Joshua was very far from laughing now.

You finally slip the toy inside, and a long, strained moan is pulled from your lips. It looked like a tight fit and his eyes twitched at the thought and how it was just a thought to him. But he was proved correct when he caught the tremble of your thighs, your chest rising and falling with choppy breaths. And yet despite it, you’re still continuing to push the entire length of the toy inside until the handle is the only thing left protruding out of you. Regardless of the obvious discomfort twisting your features and the sweat beading along your hairline, there’s still a wicked curl of lip when you look back up at the camera, a flicker of pride, of challenge, in your darkened gaze. It stirred something warm deep in his guts.

Then, he hears a faint click, a buzz, and another moan right out of you. 

Time was a muddled construct from then on.

Joshua only watched you fuck yourself with his gift, watched you slowly lose yourself over some mere piece of silicone. At some point, you fell flat on your back and he’s dismayed by your hidden face, but easily distracted when your feet prop themselves up wide apart, sole flat on the mattress. Now, he’s blessed by a much clearer and utter sinful view of how well your puffy cunt swallows up the toy, it becoming a blur of violet as it pumps in and out at a quickening pace. 

And the fucking sounds. It was so wet. You were so wet, the squelches echoing in his ears with every other thrust made. More than that, your incoherent moanings had slowly formed into words—some swears, others pleas, but what rang deep in his bones were the airy mutterings of his name.

“Joshua,” you groan during one particularly hard thrust made.

He chewed on his bottom lip hard.

“S-Shua!” you cried, sharp and high, when your hips jerked up into the toy.

He threw a palm against his crotch.

Then it all ends too soon.

With a shattered wail, you yank the vibrator out of you and a gush of clear fluids spurt right out. You’re a whimpering mess. A hand reached down to rub fast circles on your clit as you wade through your pleasure, your lower frame stuttering up into it, your legs maddened with violent tremors. His name continues to fall out of your lips like a breathy mantra, like it was the only word you knew.

Joshua clicks his phone shut, places it on the table, and takes in a breath.

“Fuck.”

You might have pushed him too far with this, but in all fairness, your beloved, ever-so-sweet, and loving boyfriend Joshua has been nothing short of an absolute menace of a man since he had left for tour. Very often since his departure, nearly every single day, he has plagued you with texts filled with his lewd thoughts. You did love it, of course you did when it showed that Joshua still thought of you often and felt your absence just as much you did with his. But with the time difference, while he texts you during his evenings, you’d receive it in the mornings where you’d be drowning in your schedules. 

shua! ♡ : You’re working?

shua! ♡ : What a shame :(( i was going to talk about how i want to fuck your tight little pussy just now :(( 

It still didn’t stop him from describing the imagery with very explicit details.

The days of missing him grew even more unbearable. You knew Joshua found delight in this and was probably cackling away in his hotel bed at your frustrations. But you also knew despite the front he puts up, Joshua was just as sexually repressed and wound up as you, or he wouldn't have bothered with this stint. Why not try to play him at his own games?

So, you did. A free day came in your schedule and you bought some new lingerie sets and shot your little video with Joshua's gift that lay unused in a drawer. You had your fun playing with yourself, imagining it was Joshua himself fucking your tight little pussy open. You were very pleased with yourself when you sent the video off, then you went on about your day like normal, or as normal can be with anticipation a steady simmer in your stomach.

Then came his response.

shua! ♡ : You think you can get away with this? :) 

you: i have no idea what you’re talking about :) it’s a gift to repay you for your gift!

shua! ♡ : Sent a video.

shua! ♡ : Here’s to repay you for your repayment :)

you: ..oh no

The thumbnail of his video was less crude than yours. It was a full view of his unmade hotel bed. Joshua was nowhere in sight. Somehow this was a little more nerve wracking than your stunt. 

With a pounding heart, you pressed play.

It’s eerily silent for the first few seconds, you could practically hear your own pulse thundering in your ears. Then there’s a rustle, a sigh, then Joshua comes into frame. He greets the camera with that sweet smile of his as he climbs up his bed. A black muscle tee fitted around his sculpted body, his toned biceps on full display. Then below –

Joshua wore absolutely nothing down below—no pants, not even underwear. His dick stood proudly, curved and bumping against his stomach. 

A knowing, smug expression crosses his face as if he could see you through this video, and he takes his position, kneeling right in the middle of the bed.

“You drive me absolutely insane,” he said before spitting right into his hand. “Was the toy any better than my dick? Did it satisfy you?”

You let out a shaky breath just as he did too when his long fingers wrap around himself. He lathers the length of him in his own saliva and spares a little more every now and then, letting a string of spit thread down directly from his lips. You were too familiar with the gradual rhythm he set, with how his wrist twists a little more forcefully when he reaches the tip. It was the set of movements he particularly liked, the one that’s quick to pull airy grunts from him. 

I could survive through this, you think to yourself, pressing your thighs together to temper the growing ache in between. You’ve given him handjobs before to expect what expressions would come about, what noises he'd come to make. This was fine.

But Joshua reaches for a pillow, and now you think all is doomed. This was absolutely far from what you were expecting. This explained the angle in which the camera was set up.

“It’s sad that I don’t have anything to replace you,” he clicks his tongue in disappointment, and places the pillow before him. “But I will have to make do.”

With growing horror (delight?), you watch with wide eyes as Joshua leans himself down, leveraging himself up with his arms, and starts to rut down against the cushion.

��y/n,” your lover grunts out. “Oh fuck, that’s good.”

Joshua lifts the bottom of his shirt up to bite on, revealing the chiseled lines of his torso, before he’s easing himself down until he’s laying flat on stomach. His thrusts are shallow, the muscles of thigh twitching and straining, and so are his breaths, muffled but gradually rising in volume. The pinkish tip of him peeks from where it's wedged in between and rubbing up against his hardened stomach, and you catch just the faintest rivulet leak from its slit, slipping down and staining the pillow’s white casing. 

The pressure was soon not enough, you knew. The rising frustration was evident in how often he adjusts his position and the pillow, and how deeper and urgent his grinds became.

"Who am I kidding?" Joshua says with a dry laugh, pulling the shirt off of him and shucking it into an unknown corner of his room. "Nothing will come close to how your cunt feels around me."

Your core gives a euphoric throb at that and you press a palm against yourself with the softest sigh slipping from your lips.

Joshua, in the seemingly hopeless face of it all, is still trying anyway, seeking for some pleasure in this measly, soft thing. There had been a moment where you had thought he had given in when he sat back up and wrapped his hand around his throbbing girth again; perhaps he really had when he looked absolutely lose in the fast, blissful strokes made by the tight ring of his fingers. With fluttering eyelids and head thrown back, the first, more earnest moans falls from his lips, and before you thought he might be reaching a new high, Joshua drops back down on the pillow and rides the hell out of it once more, pursuing that same pace his hand had.

It was rare to see this frustrated desperation from him ever. Oh, how you loved to see how quickly his cool composure falls apart, ravaged the sight of his trembling body and sudden incoordination of all his limbs. Yet even with this smugness, you absolutely could not help this tang of envy that came with it, the longing ache for him only burrowing deeper. You wished you could witness this in real life, wished you felt his desperation thrusting inside you. You missed the warmth of his body, missed him.

Just how fucking long was this tour again? Holy shit.

You had been too distracted by your own yearning that you almost missed Joshua coming undone. It's his loud groan that yanks your focus back to the screen—loud groans of your name.

"I'm so close, fuck -" Joshua rambles on and scrambles to perch himself back up on his hands so you're given a full view of length gliding along heedlessly against the cushion, his hips stammering and losing rhythm. "I n-need you so bad, y/n. You have no idea how much I need you right now. Fuck, I miss you so bad. I'm going to come. I'm going to - "

Your name is punched out of his chest when white spurts out from his twitching cock. The spasms of his muscles were so visible, with each quaver gushing a little more of his cum out, the stain on the pillow only spreading from there. And Joshua is still riding out this high with languid ruts, coating his girth in his own glistening fluids until he gradually softens up.

After a few panted breaths from him, Joshua draws back and sits on his legs. He takes a moment to inspect the sight of his own mess, then his head tilts up at the camera and a tired smile pulls his lips. For a single beat, you stare at each other and even though you actually weren't, you still felt the weight of his gaze, a ripple of something crawling down your spine. Without any word but with that continuing smile, Joshua moves for his phone and shuts it off, leaving you in the deafening silence of your bedroom.

you: holy fuck, joshua.

shua! ♡: Yeah? You liked it? :)

you: absolutely not

shua! ♡: ?

shua! ♡: What really?

you: i absolutely loved it

shua! ♡: Could you maybe not do that? I was so fucking nervous the whole time

you: aw, my baby nervous? :(

shua! ♡: ...Yeah okay.

you: hehe :) i love you

shua! ♡: And I love you

shua! ♡: I have some thoughts though :)

you: oh no. STILL?!

you: WERE THOSE VIDEOS NOT ENOUGH?!

shua! ♡: Not at all :D

shua! ♡: Do you want to hear it?

you: fine

shua! ♡: Sent a link

shua! ♡: I bought you this :)

you: is this

you: a long distance vibrator...

shua! ♡: Yeah :)

shua! ♡: I want to see you play with yourself on call next time

shua! ♡: While I take control :)

you: fuck

you: of course you do

shua! ♡: Yeah :)

you: you're a menace

shua! ♡: And you love that about me

you: that i unfortunately do

shua! ♡: ❤️

shua! ♡: Tell me when it arrives, baby

shua! ♡: We'll have our fun together again :)

© circlesol. all rights reserved. do not re-publish, translate, plagiarise, edit any of my work on any other platform.

[jintaka-hane]

The Thief

Masterlist

Summary: When you're hungry, the concept of food ownership doesn’t exist for you. Be careful, or you’ll end up having to learn it the hard way. Word count: 540 Notes: Wire x gn!reader; hunger; rough kissing; lying; stealing; brat tamer

Your stomach growls like a Grand Line sea beast as you reach for the fridge door.

You need food. Any food. And fast.

But as you open the fridge, both the disappointment and the pale white light spill out onto your face.

The top shelf is desolately empty. On the second shelf, just a tray with three tiny grapes. And on the third… oh! A neatly wrapped sandwich? With curiosity, you grab it, holding it up to your nose for a sniff. Peanut butter and jelly… exactly what you need right now. You turn it in your hand to inspect it and notice a small handwritten label.

W.

You shrug, toss aside the label and the wrapping, and devour it like there’s no tomorrow. You’re wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your sweater when Wire strides into the kitchen, his usual serious expression in place.

“Oi,” he greets you curtly, and you wave your hand.

Heading straight for the fridge, he bends his towering frame to peer inside. You hear a low growl as he straightens up again, and his gaze locking onto you, his eyes darting quickly to your lips.

“Did you eat my sandwich?”

You gulp.

“No,” you reply, quickly brushing a crumb from the corner of your mouth. You don't want to stick around any longer so you head for the door, trying not to look too suspicious.

“Wait,” he grabs your forearm when you pass by. “You’re not lying to me, right?” His dark eyes bore into yours, and your voice waver a little.

“No, Wire, of course not!”

He chuckles.

Before you know it, his large hands circle your waist and your feet are off the ground, your body spinning in the air until your shoulder blades hit the wall. You gasp, struggling to keep your balance, and instinctively grab onto the harness strapped across his chest. Long fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and as soon as your face aligns with his, his mouth crashes into yours.

The kiss is rough, possessive and hungry. His jaw rotates with impatience, adjusting the angle until his tongue forces its way in without invitation. Your bruised lips let him in, and he takes his time, playfully seeking your tongue with his, savoring every inch of your mouth while he keeps you pinned against the wall. He lets out a low hum of acknowledgment, and just as abruptly as the kiss started, he pulls away, leaving you breathless and craving more.

“Liar,” he says, his darkened eyes darting between yours and your lips.

His hands find the back of your thighs, lifting you just a little higher, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. Then he carries you to the countertop and settles you there, his large body leaning over you.

“I came here to eat, and I’m not leaving until I do,” he growls, his breath warm against your skin as he captures your mouth again, reaching back to shut the kitchen door behind him.

You grin against his lips, the little sanity you have left already planning to eat everything labeled with a ‘W’ in the fridge from now on.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid <3

[quikhs]

Synopsis : Lately, Shoyo had been onto something and that makes you worried since he's been escaping from your guys 'rules' in the household. And that's lead to confronting him about it.

-> timeskip!shoyo is being slick (but not rlly) so you had to catch him and shred him to pieces/jk. Establish relationship. In general, fluff bc shoyo in angst? *Heart shattered.*

wc : 670 (drabbles)

A/N : theme makes me want to scream, legit had to search for a divider for a few mins and ended up using the ones in my gallery :')

Goodbye and welcome kisses are a must.

Either when it's Shoyo or you going out, which meant leaving one or the other. Showing love through small pecks, intertwining your pinky with his became somewhat of a routine as a greeting and goodbye. Even when in such a rush, this tradition has no exceptions, as it's a must.

...

So when Shoyo just disappears, leaving no trace behind except for a 'I'm going!' and the sound of the door shutting, perhaps he's too late for training? Or he had forgotten about—there's absolutely no way,not a bit would he forget the kisses you always share.

Or has his brain got a memory loss? The thought lingered in your mind as you kept on with your daily tasks before taking your leave as well. It happened tomorrow once again, then the next day.

Now, that's suspicious, Shoyo.

But before you can catch on, he always leaves earlier than he normally would. In addition, it makes things worse because that's even more suspicious.

Yet, you wouldn't put an accusation against Shoyo; he's a sweetheart. There's no way he would do something behind your back, maybe.

And that's how you are waiting near the door, awaiting his figure to leave the house with a goodbye kiss because, you’re sure, if this keeps continuing, then you'll be crazy by the end of the week. For your sanity, you have to put an end to this.

...

In simple terms, you wouldn't let it slide today.

And when Shoyo finally rushes to the door, just to be greeted by someone with a big, wide frown like a pouting child that made him chuckle. Although he tried to refrain from it because that means you're upset. As he picked up his sports shoes, sliding them on easily without any disturbance—only your frown.

Just as Shoyo is about to open the doorknob, holding onto it, you say, "My kiss?" The sharpness in your voice, the glare that could just pierce his back, he swore it was (very) scary for someone who's lovely. Shoyo's head slowly turned to face you with a sheepish smile as he pulled his hand from the knob.

Of course, you noticed.

And how doomed Shoyo is now.

"Aw, miss me that much?" he teases while taking you in his arms, wrapping you close to him before pecking your lips as per usual.

"Well, a certain someone may have forgotten the rules here," you retorted, still keeping the slight resentment in your tone. As a result, Shoyo cackles.

Okay, he's been caught.

"Oh, I definitely owe Atsumu a drink after this," he muses while keeping his arms under yours. Alright, that got your attention fully.

Atsumu? Drink? What is he on to? Shoyo only cackles more when he sees the confusion written on your face.

It turns out Atsumu had made a bet with Shoyo. That if he managed to go without a goodbye and a welcome kiss for about a week, he'd buy Shoyo a drink. Now, everything clicked together like a complete puzzle. Although your nose scrunched at his words before he brushed his against yours playfully.

Maybe that's why he's been running away...

and Shoyo earned a gentle slap on the shoulder from you. "You—fine, no more goodbye kisses then!" you said, trying to escape from his grasp, still upset by how he just acted so casually. "No, wait! I love your kisses!" Jokingly, Shoyo tightened his grip and hoped to never let go.

Well, not now at least.

Perhaps he should do this again; your reaction was absolutely hilarious (and sweet), although he'll keep that to himself since telling you that, would just earn another slap from you.

And how Atsumu was grateful for you because the drink was definitely a blessing. After that, Shoyo noted to not put anything involving love and affection between you two, since in the end, he'll lose anyway.

But did he regret it? Nope, witnessing your reactions towards his (feigning) dismissal of your shared intimacy is the best.

[ladystarksneedle]

Do I make you feel sick?

Aemond x niece reader

Summary: A princess confronts the ghosts of her past.

Word count: 1.7k

Prev<

Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika

She doesn't know what possesses her as she lunges at him, arms flying everywhere, nails clawing at whatever part of him she can hurt. They fall to the ground in a heap, with her screaming and hitting his chest with her fists in quick succession before trying to get to his eye. He flips her over just as she manages to scratch his cheek, hissing as he pins her arms above her head, caging her with the weight of his body.

“Have you had enough?” he huffs impatiently. 

She spits at him aiming for his good eye in response, making him growl and grab her neck in warning. Her eyes widen in fear as she sees him look at her with malice. She struggles to breathe as she realizes it is the first time she's seen the likes of it on his face. His grip relents when he feels her gasping, enough to let her know he's unwilling to kill her. There is a silent warning in his eye, which she accepts with a difficult nod making him relax his hold on her neck letting her breathe at last. She sputters and coughs as he brings his face close to her hammering pulse, biting her neck harshly.

“Why” she whimpers beneath him.

“You know why” he mumbles against the shell of her ear “I was owed a debt”

“At what cost” she spits, angling her face towards his “You've ruined us, destroyed our family”

“He was never mine to begin with”

“But I was,” she croaks as he runs his nose along her cheek.

“You are a liar and a cheat” she breathes against him “Did your hatred not extend to the bastard you laid with”

He chuckles in response pulling her up with him to he sit on his haunches “It seems I've gotten my hands on every last Strong except you”

“What has become of you” she spits in disgust, his moniker lingering at the tip of her tongue.

“Say it, every bit of it is true. I'm just like you”

“I’ve done nothing which wasn't expected of me”

“No, only shed innocent blood for your  mother’s cause”

“I had no part in it” she chokes out  “I didn't wish for him to die”

He gazes at her with mistrust twisting her arms behind her back feeling her riding leathers for a weapon.

“It matters not, little traitor. You made your choice” he hums thoughtfully “Do you know what they said when they murdered Jaehaerys? A son for a son they claimed as they slit his throat” 

She shivers as he pulls her to stand, turning her around to face the trees brandishing the dagger she'd kept hidden beneath her tunic. “Helaena is lost to her grief. They say losing a child does that to a mother, takes away all her sanity. I shall repay yours with justice of my own” he says drumming his fingers across her belly “I know how much you've wanted this, for us to be a family. We'll finally have all that you crave for.”

“You are depraved” she shivers, making him chuckle humorlessly.

“I am what you've made me byka nūmio, you can't escape your fate anymore.”

She twists and thrashes in his grasp as brandishes her blade against her neck, clicking his tongue in response. 

“I despise you,” she whispers. “There is nothing you can do to make me lie with you”

He ignores her as he speaks again “Where is your little dragon, hmm. She seems to have left you all alone.”

She looks around in fright, unable to locate Naerax. The trees around her feel eerily quiet, with no sign of anyone apart from both of them breathing heavily. 

“What have you done to her?”

He chuckles in response. “Fear not she is nearby, uniting with her own. Vhagar shall take good care of her”

“Let me go”

“Didn't you come here to find me” he smirks, nicking her neck watching a column of blood trail down her skin.

“I came here to kill you”

He laughs heartily as he spins her around, sheathing her dagger before effortlessly throwing her over his shoulder “What has your mummer queen's cause come to if they've sent you to accomplish such a task.”

“You don't think I'm capable of it?” she replies, trying to kick him.

“Mayhaps, but I know you far better. Your mother was a fool to test your loyalty”

“I am nothing but” she all but screams.

“Indeed, yet to who begs the question” he smirks, hauling her towards the trees.

“Has all the smoke gotten to your head qyybor. You are a fool to think I'll ever betray my family just as you were to leave King’s landing.” She feels him stiffen as they pass through the canopy, his grip tightening on her. (Uncle)

“I have waited out this war to claim what is owed to me and your tantrums shall be the last thing standing between what I want” he says as she tries to reach the dagger sheathed near his waist.

“I've caught you now byka mittys” he says, pulling her braid to face him, eye glinting in the dark as he smiles at her with glee. “Rest, you'll need it in the days to come” (little fool)

The last thing she sees before she goes limp in his arms are spots of green through the mist shrouding them.

She wakes up to the night sky, clear and starry, as she rubs her eyes. There is a fire kindled before her with a woman turned away from where she now sits awake, staring into it as she grinds something in her hands. 

“Be welcome princess, it's been a while” she says without turning to face her. Her voice rings in her ears, unnaturally shrill as she tries to catch a peek of her face.

“You must be the fire witch”

“I have many names. Most call me Alys”

“Where am I?”

“You are safe, as he would have it”

She glances around trying to find him at her admission, perplexed at the strangeness of her surroundings. They appear to be near a small clearing hidden unnaturally from the rest of the land.

“He shall return soon, you need not worry for him”

“I do not”

Green eyes turn to her, deep and cold as they regard her with mirth. “You are as he spoke of, young and foolish”

She fights the urge to bite back as she responds “You know nothing of me”

Her words evoke the strange woman's laughter, a shrieking sinister sound, rattling her before a few ravens croak near the skyline. 

“Be grateful for his affection, princess” she says mockingly “For that is what is keeping you alive”

“As it has been serving you, I suppose” she says, staring at her swollen womb with distaste.

“Oh yes, but I'm far more useful than a lost girl without her dragon” she snickers. 

“What do you see in the flames? I've heard whispers of your visions.”

“Things that have and will come to pass” she replies cryptically.

“Must be lonely to know he's keeping you with him for your gift” she replies snarkily, noticing her frame stiffen in response. 

“Do not antagonize her too much dōna” she hears as she feels him towering behind her. (Sweet)

She huffs in annoyance as he regards her before walking past her to hand the witch something. She sees her take it before retreating into the forest, leaving them alone again.

“Where is Naerax”

“Asleep, as you were a while ago”

“Why are you keeping me here”

“What do you have to return to? You're far away from home” he bites back. “Or does a certain bastard await your return” he asks, twirling her dagger in his hand.

She stares at him incredulously laughing at his response. “Addam? Nyke daor pāsagon ao” (I cannot believe you) “After all that has happened, that is what bothers you”

“It doesn't matter, he shall not live to see you again”

His response elicits another scream as she tackles him to the ground before being flipped over again with force.

“Does the thought of him dying evoke such despair, perhaps I'll have to kill him sooner”

“You are craven. Will you slay the entire realm in your madness”

“Every traitor shall face his due”

“Perhaps you should start with your lover then”

“And here I thought you wished to spare the innocent”

“She is hardly free from blame”

“The child she carries has no part to play”

“Your babe is as treacherous as his father before him”

“The only traitor I see here is you”

“I have never betrayed you. You are a fool to think so”

“I suppose galavanting about with a Velaryon bastard isn't the treachery that you speak of”

“You base your accusations on rumors? Slanders which are nothing but falsehood” she spits “I stand by what I said, I am nothing but loyal”

He lets her go in bewilderment as she feels her cheeks wet with tears. “None of it is true”

He looks away as she speaks, anger flashing in his eye “You were lost to me”

“I was”

“Then I am not to blame”

“You are and you can never absolve yourself of it. I loved you and you betrayed me.”

“You chose your mother”

“As did you”

“Do you think my decisions haven't tormented me? Do you think you're the only one who's suffered? You made me lose everything” he shouts. “I lost the capital. I lost our advantage while you ran around doing as you pleased.”

“You confuse me with yourself,” she scoffs.

“You've tormented me for years. Do not come here and claim that you love me when all you've ever done is left” he remarks with uncontrolled rage.

“And all you've done is find the first woman you could to warm your bed while I mourned my loss, one that you inflicted” she screams back as he moves towards her grabbing her face in his hands. 

“I despise you” she whispers as he brings his face close to hers shaking with emotion

“As do I,” he whispers back, inching closer to her.

It is only fair, she thinks when he consumes her finally. She feels the salt from her tears coat his lips as they move against hers, velvety and soft as he grips her harshly, pulling her closer in haste. She clings to him as they devour each other and when she lunges at him again, pushing him to the floor of her makeshift bed, he relents easily in his own desperation and unrestrained rage of being pulled apart from what was always meant to be theirs.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy

[moodymisty]

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: Send help. Send a therapist I don’t know I just need some form of mental health assistance.

Relationships: Typhus/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW (god save me), Disgusting Nurgle stuff, Fingering, Like 72 degrees of unsafe sex, Implied sex pollen/aphrodisiac, Noncon, Stockholm syndrome, Tentacles,

It’s a massive room, at one point it might have been a cathedral; To Mortarion, to the Emperor, or who else else the Death Guard worshiped before falling to Nurgle. Slime leaks from the walls and rusts away at the metal, eating holes in piping and supports alike. Tentacles, spores and other types of biomass litter it, with little botflies fluttering about. What they're doing you don't know, but they catch your eye every now and again.

It's not as if you can do much else. He's taken your hope, your energy, your home.

In the center of all this rot and decay is your place; A flowerbed of sickly blossoms and blooms, moss and mushrooms all infected by Nurgle.

A beautiful flowerbed for his own little Isha, Calas had said. Though he’s no longer Calas, is he? Typhon has become Typhus, and you've become prisoner.

You now lay on your bed of rotten blooms, picking at flower petals. You can’t escape him- even if you escaped this massive rotten cathedral, where would you go? This ship is his, and you’re deep in what is now heretic space.

He won’t let you die; He won’t let you leave. Bare skin lays against the sticky moss, spores brushing against you.

He’d taken your clothes after the last time, other than the thin cloth that serves as a near useless, dress. You suppose he finds a sort of elegance to it- a maiden in white amidst a pit of disgust. Another parallel to Isha. He's been meticulous in recreating it all so he has his own glimmer of light betwixt a defiled cathedral and a ship of the most putrid diseases.

You can only lay hopeless, displayed on your flowerbed underneath corruption forming a mockery of trees with budded flowers, rotten petals falling to the floor. Typhus’ own altar to whatever desires he has in his head.

Suddenly movement causes you to raise upward, restoring your sanity and consciousness. You’ve never heard even close to this much noise before, not even when the Death Guard were forming up to invade a poor, hopeless planet.

“In here!”

You turn your head to the massive cathedral doors, watching them shake before giving way and pushing apart with loud creaking. Your heart pounds in your chest with more hope than you’ve ever had before, at the sight.

It’s Astartes! A squad of them. You don’t know where they’re from or what they’re doing here, but they’re here to save you from this. Save you from him. To finally either pull you from this rotten ship or kill you here, and finally end this state of undeath Typhus has you lingering in.

One of the Astartes comes closer and reaches for you, and you weakly reach out a hand for him. You try to touch it, but you don’t make contact; it’s like your hand nearly falls through.

“What happened?”

He says, and you wish you had the ability to explain. How Calas has changed, the ship becoming nothing more than a vessel of disgust and disease.

“Help me,” You weakly say, but it feels like you’re trying to speak underwater.

Where did the other Astartes disappear to?

The marine’s armored hand reaches down to grasp your bare arm, and you think you hear him say your name. But how would he know it?

He says it again, and again…

And then your body jolts, legs straightening as your eyes open. Your lips part as you gasp, taking in so deep a breath you almost choke on the air.

“There you are, my girl.”

The man once called Calas looks over you while on his knee, the grill of his helmet hiding what is left of his face.

You’ve seen it; How the Nurgle infection has eaten away at his skin, changing was left to sickly yellow, green and purple. His armor seems entangled with his flesh, becoming one and the same. His appearance horrifies you, and makes you yearn for what once was.

“Were you having a nightmare?”

His rusted gauntlet scrapes across your skin, nicking your cheek. You try to avoid shivering, hands pressing against the ground below you.

It wasn’t a nightmare, it was the brightest glimpse of hope you had since Typhus doomed all of the Death Guard, and it was little more than your imagination.

“My sweet girl, you were asking for help.”

His hand drifts from your face, you wonder why it smells sweet, down your neck then the rest of your body and you whimper, trying to move away from him. His armor feels warm like it's almost alive, and perhaps it is- they're one and the same now.

His massive gauntlet slips between your legs, armored fingers diving between your folds as you writhe and attempt to pull away from him.

“I can grant your every desire much like grandfather does with Isha, you only need to let me in.”

He already is in; You feel his rusted gauntlet prod at your entrance. Your whimper and push at him, in some futile attempt to escape.

“Stop, please stop,”

Calas- Typhus, forces his armor finger into you and feels the way you tighten, pressing your hips down into the mossy flowerbed. Tears prick your eyes as you feel him sink into you deep, cold armor pressing against your cunt.

“You don’t want me to stop; I can smell you. The honey you’re making.”

You want him to stop, you want your skin to stop buzzing and heating up, as you feel your body begin to betray you. The flowers, the spores, Typhus himself, you don't know what he does that makes you lose control over yourself, but you hate every moment of it. It makes tears roll down your cheeks as your stomach tightens in knots over the feeling of his now two fingers deep inside of you, the palm of his gauntlet pushing against your clit.

“Please…. Stop…”

You try to turn away from him but his other hand grasps your jaw, turning you right back. Your body feels so hot, you can feel the brushing of little tentacles across your inner thighs, your breasts, your neck. Whether they’re from him or the flowerbed you don’t know, but they only serve to spark trails of fire as your body heats up like a furnace.

Typhus removes his hand from your cunt to push your thighs wider apart, the bottoms of your feet almost touching. They stay fallen apart, and your hands reach down to grasp at his decayed gauntlet as he pushes his fingers back into you.

Just finish, give him what he wants and then he'll leave. Ignore how good he makes you feel.

He hears you let out a whimper, finally broken. He laughs, the fingers of his other hand stroking your cheek.

“Good girl, just let me gift you all that you desire.”

You can hear the wet squelches of your own cunt as you leak over his rusted, decayed armor, weeping for more without your permission. You can hear in the back of your mind the no no no no no, but it's so chained by whatever sweet scent had filled your nostrils that you can't touch it.

You just want to be filled, by anything.

Your thoughts become your own for a moment as you feel how much you hate when he does this; It’s like your body and mind detach and you can no longer control yourself.

Your hands grasp his gauntlet tighter and try to pull him closer, arch closer to him, begging for more. The disgust of mushrooms and slime and rotten petals falling on your skin fades as he fills your mind with nothing but forced desire for him.

“It took Isha many years to realize Grandfather was her savior,” He pulls his fingers from your tight heat to tease your clit and make you gasp, before sinking them into you again. Your hips jerk upwards, tears in your eyes from how much you want this and how much you don’t want this. “And now you see, as well.”

You feel the tickle of flies landing on your skin, it makes you want to vomit. They always hover around him like he has a gravitational pull.

You cum against his hand as he thrusts his armored fingers deep into you, crying out with a voice now hoarse from your whimpers and cries. He hums pleased behind his helm, as you lay limp in front of him. Your inner thighs are slick, and you feel something tickle against them that isn't his hand.

He pulls his soaked hand from between your thighs, putting it on your stomach as his other hand slips underneath your shoulderblades. He raises you slightly up off the flowerbed removing his hand from your stomach to take off his helmet.

You want to look away, to preserve the memory of Calas. But he’s gone, rotted away. You feel his hand cup your jaw to force you to look at him, your lips brushing against his dried, rotten mouth.

His hand returns to your stomach again.

“My beautiful little flower in her beautiful little garden; Begging to be pollinated.” You feel your mind returning from its foggy state and you weakly kick your legs wanting to get away.

“You are in bloom, my beautiful little flower. I can’t wait to make so many more.”

[atearyamallari]

Bath, Bed, and Late Night Phone Calls

This is another entry for @tmnt-write-fight. Get attacked, @untitled-tmnt-blog! This was the prompt I had answered:

New dad Splinter is very unprepared but is trying the best he can.

Not a parent, but having worked closely with children, I can tell you that parenting is hard. Hope you all enjoy the story! (and if you're reading this, I recommend having tissues nearby)

Words: 3669

Rating: Gen

Tags: Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Minor Character Death, Bubble Bath, Sad Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Bittersweet.

Iteration: Rise of the TMNT

You can also check out the fic here on AO3!

Enjoy!

\\

Splinter looked at his sons as they cuddled on the couch together, watching one of his films. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best thing to show to children – violence toned down was still violence, after all – but he didn’t have any other movies for them. Besides, putting something on the TV was one of the only ways he could get all four of them to calm down and be quiet for longer than ten minutes. And the boys seemed to really enjoy this movie in particular; their jaws were slack, and their eyes twinkled with awe as they watched Lou Jitsu beat up a dozen bad guys on screen.

Little did they know that Lou Jitsu was standing nearby, and that he was going to pull the rug out from under them. He snatched up the remote with his tail and turned the TV off. “Alright, boys! It’s time for your bath!” he said.

The room grew to a near-deafening volume as all four of them started complaining at once. “But Papa, I don’t wanna take a bath!” Leo whined.

“No baths!” Mikey said.

“Yeah, we already had one,” Raph said. “We’re all clean.”

“No baths!”

“That was two days ago. You need to take another one today,” Splinter said.

“But we want to watch the movie!” Donnie said.

“No baths!”

Splinter’s sanity was slipping from him, like a balloon slipping from a child’s fingers and floating out of reach. “How about we take baths one at a time, and when you’re not being washed you can watch the movie?” he said, trying his best to refrain from yelling. “Does that sound good?”

Bargaining seemed to do the trick. “Yay! Movie time!” they yelled happily.

He turned the TV back on, and the projector hummed with life as it displayed their favorite movie once more. “Red, you will go first,” he said, setting the remote down.

“What? No fair!” he said. “Why do I have to go first?”

“Because I said so.” He grabbed his son by the wrist and tried to gently coax him off the couch.

“I don’t wanna take a bath!” Raph said. “I wanna stay here with my brothers!” He wormed his arm out of Splinter’s grasp, then retreated his head and limbs into his shell.

Normally, that level of stubbornness would have caused Splinter a headache, but thankfully, his son wasn’t smart enough to realize that hiding in his shell only made him easier to carry. Splinter picked him up off the couch and was immediately surprised by how heavy his Raph was. Five-year-olds were supposed to grow a lot, but it should have been illegal for him to grow this much. As he lugged Raphael away into the bathroom, he wondered how much longer he would be able to carry him before he grew too big.

Their bathroom was barely larger than a closet, but it was the only room in the sewer drainage junction that they had come to call home which had spigots to draw water from. A wooden barrel that had been sawed in half functioned as their bathtub, and Splinter had added shelves to the walls to hold soap and towels. As he gently set Raph down into the tub, he realized that his son was almost too big for it now. Another reason why it should have been illegal for him to grow as fast as he did.

Splinter connected a garden hose to a faucet in the walls and turned the valve handle. Water gushed out, brown and murky at first, but eventually it ran clear. Splinter aimed the hose into the bathtub and began filling it. Curious, little Raph peeked his head out from his shell, then his legs, then his arms. A smile slowly crept onto his face as he began to splash around.

“Are you having fun?” Splinter asked, amused.

“Yeah!” Raph said. He slammed his arms into the water, making giant splashes.

“Careful! You’re gonna get water everywhere,” Splinter said. He turned off the faucet, grabbed some liquid soap from one of the shelves and began pouring it into the bath. Mountains of bubbles grew in the tub, much to Raph’s delight.

“Look, Daddy!” Raph said, scooping bubbles with his hands and smearing them on top of his head. “I’m Lou Jitsu!”

Laughing, Splinter took off his red bandana, then scooped up some more bubbles and added them to his son’s head. “You look just like him!” he said.

He spent the next couple of minutes scrubbing him down with a sponge. Halfway through the bath, Raph had managed to splash all the water out of the tub, forcing Splinter to fill it up again. But before long, he had Raph wrapped up in a fuzzy red towel. “Daddy’s gonna get you all dried up,” he said.

Somewhere in another room, glass shattered. Splinter’s heart dropped as soon as he heard the sound. “Never mind. You’re old enough to do this yourself, right?” he said to Raph. Then he bolted out of the bathroom.

Leo and Mikey were standing in the middle of the TV room, looking down at the mess they had made. Between the two of them was a football, a lamp shade, and a pile of broken ceramic. “Did you two just break our brand-new lamp?” Splinter said, aghast.

The boys pointed their fingers at each other. “He did it!” they said simultaneously.

Like the rest of their furniture, the lamp had been salvaged from a dumpster, but it was one of the nicer appliances that Splinter had added to their home. “That’s it! Leonardo, Michelangelo, you’re both in trouble,” he yelled. “No more playing football in the lair.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Leo mumbled.

“S-sorry, P-papa” Mikey said, bursting into tears.

Seeing his son crying caused his chest to tighten with pity. Still, pity wasn’t going to clean up the mess. Splinter picked up the football and carefully plucked out the ceramic shards before placing it on the very top of the do-not-touch cabinet he had in the TV room. Then he carefully swept up the broken pieces before his sons could cut their toes on them. By the time he was done, Mikey had stopped crying but was still sulking where he stood.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Splinter said, picking him up. “But I need you to be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt. Now, let’s get you back on the couch.” He fluffed up the cushions with one hand before setting him down, then turned to Leo. “Come, Blue. It’s time for your bath now.”

“Okay,” Leo said in a whiny tone.

Taking his hand, Splinter led him to the bathroom. All the while, a nagging feeling ate away at him, telling him that something was wrong. It wasn’t until they had nearly left the TV room that he realized what it was. “Where’s Purple?” he asked Leo. He asked as calmly as possible, but his heart only pounded faster when he remembered that he hadn’t seen Donnie since he took Raph’s bath.

Leo silently pointed behind him. Splinter turned to find Donnie standing just a few feet away, dragging a bucket by the handle. “I’m right here, Papa,” he said.

Crisis averted. Splinter let out a giant sigh of relief. “Donatello, go watch the movie with your brother,” he said.

“Actually, I want to take a bath now,” Donnie said.

“But Daddy said that it’s my turn for bathtime,” Leo said.

“You boys can have a bath at the same time,” Splinter suggested. Thankfully, the two of them were small enough that they could both fit in the tub.

Leo took Donnie’s free hand and together they walked into the bathroom. Raph was standing where Splinter had left him, swaddled in the towel. It was obvious that he hadn’t done anything to dry himself off, however, since water was still dripping from his shell, and he was now shivering. Splinter helped Leo and Donnie into the bathtub, then finished drying Raph off while the bath filled with water. Eventually, he let Raph scamper back into the TV room and turned his attention back to Leo and Donnie.

Donnie was floating his bucket in the bathtub. Lately, he had picked up the habit of walking everywhere with it and often filled it with little trinkets he found around the house. “What do you have in your bucket, Purple?” Splinter asked as he gently took off his bandana.

Silently, Donnie reached into the bucket and pulled out a spoon, then let it drop into the water. Then he drew a second spoon from the bucket, and a third, dropping each of them into the bath. Although this probably wasn’t normal behavior for a child, this didn’t surprise Splinter at all. Donnie, for some reason, had an interest in shiny metal objects. What did surprise him, however, was the next few items that Donnie pulled out from his bucket. They were metal rods shaped like the letter C, and for some reason Splinter had the feeling that he had seen them somewhere before. It wasn’t until Donnie had dropped the fourth one into the bathtub that he realized that they were the handles of the kitchen drawers. “What –? How did you get the handles off?” he asked incredulously.

“With a screwdriver,” Donnie said, beaming.

If any of his other sons had done this, Splinter would have been concerned. But Donnie had always been a little too smart for his own good. Splinter tiredly dragged one of his hands over his face. Considering that his four-year-old son was able to remove the handles, it should be easy for him to place them back on. “What else do you have in the bucket?” he asked.

“A toaster!” he said, pulling one out.

“No no no no no!” Splinter said, catching the toaster before his son could toss it into the bath like the rest of his trinkets. He set the toaster on one of the shelves, away from the water, then took the bucket out of the bathtub. “Let’s play with this later, okay?”

Like with Raph, Splinter scrubbed Donnie and Leo down with a sponge. It took a little longer than normal because whenever Donnie was distracted, he took the opportunity to reach into the bathtub and pull out the spoons and drawer handles. In a few minutes, however, he had them clean and swaddled in their favorite purple and blue towels. Once they had both dried off, he led them both to the TV room. “Orange, it’s your turn,” he called.

Raph sat on the couch watching the movie, but Mikey wasn’t with him. “Red, where is your brother?” he asked.

He shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve just been watching the movie.”

Splinter looked down at Donnie and Leo, as if they would have the answers, but they only shrugged in reply as well. This was just great. He should have known that it was getting too quiet around the lair. That’s what he got for teaching them basic ninja skills.

Leaving the rest of the boys in the TV room, Splinter walked around and called Mikey’s name. The longer time dragged on without a response, the more panic dug its claws into his chest. All the doors leading out of the sewers were child-proof, so there was no way Mikey could have left – but if he had managed to break through, then Splinter could only hope that his chubby toddler legs didn’t take him very far.

After calling his name for what felt like the hundredth time, Splinter finally heard a response. “Hi, Daddy!” came Mikey’s voice, bouncing across the walls of the atrium.

Splinter spun around wildly, trying to pinpoint where the sound had come from. Finally, his eyes rested on the sight of a little box turtle hanging from a pipe suspended ten feet off the ground. “Mikey!” he said, horrified. “Get down from there!”

“Okay!” Mikey said. He let go of the pipe.

“That’s not what I meant!” Splinter screamed. Adrenaline pumped through his body as his instincts took over. With a giant leap, he stretched out his hands and caught his son as he plummeted to the ground. He landed expertly, still holding onto Mikey.

“Yay! Do it again!” his son said.

“Nope! Not again!” Splinter said, nearly crying from sheer terror. “Bathtime only.”

Splinter gave Mikey his bath, and by the time he was done, exhaustion weighed down every bone in his body. He wasn’t the only one; little Mikey started nodding his head as Splinter dried him off and he seemed to struggle to keep his eyes open. It was a little early in the evening – but it was never too early for bedtime. Splinter picked up his son and carried him to his bedroom. Mikey was sound asleep before his head hit his pillow. Chuckling softly, Splinter knelt over him and kissed the top of his head before returning to the TV room.

Raph, Donnie, and Leo were all sound asleep, cuddled close together on the couch. Splinter grabbed the remote and lowered the volume to the movie, which still droned on in the background. One by one, he picked up Raph, then Donnie, and carried them to their beds, before tucking them in and kissing them good night. As he brought Leo to his bed, however, he began to stir. “Papa,” Leo murmured sleepily as Splinter lay him gently down on his pillow. “Can you tell me a bedtime story?”

“No, it’s time for you to sleep,” Splinter said.

“Please?”

Leo’s sleepy little eyes were simply too adorable to resist. “Okay,” Splinter said, sitting on the edge of his son’s bed. He racked his mind for a bedtime story until at last he remembered an old fairy tale from his childhood.

“Once upon a time there was a young fisherman named Urashima Tarō,” he began. “He lived with his mother and father in a humble village on the coast of a small island, and he was a good son who ate all his vegetables and didn’t complain about bathtime. One day, when he was walking along the beach, he came across a group of children. As he drew closer, he saw that they were torturing a baby sea turtle who was stranded in the sand dunes. Feeling pity for the turtle, he drove the children away, then he carefully watched over it as it found its way to the surf and disappeared into the waves.”

“Those were some mean kids,” Leo mumbled.

“Yes, yes,” Splinter said. “Now don’t interrupt. Two days later, when he was fishing on his boat, a giant sea turtle swam up to him. It was no ordinary sea turtle, for it was the same one that he had rescued. And it could talk! The turtle thanked him for saving its life and offered to take him to Ryūgū-jō, the underwater palace of the Dragon God. Since Tarō was a human and could not breathe underwater, the turtle magically gave him gills, and since he was not a strong swimmer, the turtle let him ride on its shell until they came to a beautiful palace made of pearls at the bottom of the ocean.”

“Saving the turtle had made Tarō the hot-shot of the ocean. He got to meet all of the important people in Ryūgū-jō, like the emperor, and his princess daughter, Otohime. But as the days went by, he became homesick. He wanted to go back to the island to see his mother and father. Otohime was sad to see him go, but she gave him permission to return home and gave him a special box, a tamatebako, to keep him safe from harm. However, she gave him instructions to never open the box. Tarō took it with him and rode on the back of his sea turtle friend until he made it home.”

“When he came to his island home, he found that everything had changed. He couldn’t recognize any of the people there, and he couldn’t find his parents. Just when he thought he had traveled to the wrong island, some of the villagers told him that they knew where his mother and father were. They took him to a pair of graves at the edge of the village – his parent’s graves. Three hundred years had passed since he had disappeared at sea, and his parents were long gone. Distracted by the grief, Tarō opened the lid of the tamatebako. White smoke poured out, turning his hair silver and forming wrinkles in his skin. It was too late by the time that he realized that the box had held his old age.”

Leo’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was soft and even. Splinter gently cupped his son’s face in his hands, stroking the edge of his bright red stripes with his thumb, and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. Then he quietly got up and walked out of his room.

Now that his sons were asleep, the lair was completely still, but despite the peace and quiet Splinter found himself unable to relax. Today marked the third anniversary of their collective mutation – the boys mutating into giant sentient turtles, himself mutating into an ugly, oversized rat. His fur stood on end as horrible memories wormed their way into his mind. The glow of bright green ooze. The acrid stench of chemical fires burning in a crumbling lab. The ache in his bones as he transformed. The horrible, churning feeling in his gut when he realized that Draxum intended to turn innocent baby turtles into weapons of war.

After three years, that gut-churning feeling never really went away. He felt when he and his sons were on the run, living in the streets. He felt it the one time someone had caught a glimpse of him and his boys and screeched in horror. Even when their lives weren’t in immediate danger, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was doing this parenting stuff all wrong. He had rescued the boys from a soldier’s life, only to deliver them to a life in the sewers.

He couldn’t do this anymore – not alone, anyway. It was time to ask for some help, or at least some parenting advice. Splinter tip-toed to his room, grabbed an oversized hoodie, and slipped it on. Then he lifted his mattress and snatched up the loose change that he had hidden underneath. He counted the quarters, adding them up until he had nearly thirteen dollars. Enough to make an international call.

Quietly, he tiptoed out of his room and into one of the sewer tunnels that led to a maintenance shaft. He turned the door handle and heaved the giant vault-like door open before slipping through and shutting it behind him. When he reached the top of the maintenance shaft, he lifted the manhole cover and crawled out onto the street. Pulling his hood over his head, he headed east.

Two blocks later, he reached a row of payphones on the side of the road. He lifted one of the phones from its hook and inserted quarters into the coin slot before dialing the number. Although it had been over thirteen years since he had talked to his grandfather, he still remembered the number to his landline.

Splinter nervously twist the phone cord in between his fingers as the phone rang in his ear. Would his grandfather be happy to hear his voice, or disappointed that it took over thirteen years to reach out to him again? Would his grandfather even remember him? Was his Japanese still good enough to carry a conversation? Part of him was tempted to save himself the shame and hang up so that he could get his money back. Clutching the phone tighter, he forced himself to stay on the line. This was for his sons, he reminded himself.

The line clicked as someone picked up the phone on the other end. “Jiji! It’s me, Yoshi,” Splinter said. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you sooner. I need help –”

“I’m sorry, who did you say you were?”

“Yoshi. Hamato Yoshi,” he answered. His stomach twisted when he realized he didn’t recognize the voice on the other end.

“I think you have the wrong number.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to bother you. I was just trying to call my grandpa, Hamato Sho.”

“Hamato Sho,” repeated the stranger on the other end. “I recognize that name. I think he was the previous occupant of the house I am living in now.”

If the stranger knew his grandfather, then he still had hope of reaching him. “Do you know where he lives now? Or what his new phone number is?”

The stranger paused. “Listen, I know this won’t be what you wanted to hear but… Hamato Sho passed away five years ago.”

A tear slipped down Splinter’s face. “Oh,” he choked out.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

His chest tightened as a sob threatened to escape his throat. “It’s okay,” he said. “Thank you for your time.” With shaky hands, he put the phone back up on the hook.

Splinter’s legs felt heavy the entire walk back to the sewers. Tears streaked down his face now as he allowed himself to cry. His jiji was long gone, and he never got the chance to properly say goodbye. He never even apologized for the way he had left things between them. There was no one left of his family now.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Splinter had four sons now – four rambunctious, troublemaking, sweet turtle sons. When he returned to the lair, it was still quiet and peaceful. In the morning, it would be loud and chaotic as they woke up. But for now, they were asleep in their rooms, perhaps having pleasant dreams about what the next day would bring. Splinter crawled into bed, still wondering if he was raising his sons right. But no matter what, he was going to try.