#and for a long while now ive had the idea to rewrite it. make it make more sense n sound better n have more interesting plot and characters

[jonny-b-meowborn]

Y'know I can barely call myself a writer, since I haven't finished anything serious in years, and the last time I wrote a full story I was a young teen and wasn't really good at it, but goooooood I wanna release a book. Like before I started doing visual art my dream was to be a writer, like, with published official books that you can buy and read. And I still do love writing but recently ive been leaning more towards writing fanfiction, which isn't a bad thing, I just wish I could do both. And like, I have so many ideas that I want to write, like original stories that I'd kill to have published someday, but there's absolutely no motivation in my brain. What the FUCK happened to the brain power I had as a kid, when I'd start writing any idea I had with no critical thought, and I either finished it or not but at least I tried, and I'd write all the time, so many short stories that were honestly shit quality but at least I was doing something. Ough

[jeysbvck]

even if it's a false god (we'd still worship this love)

a/n; ive been working on this for over a year, & after four rewrites, its finally here! thank you to @pedroassmanpascal for your help when i was conceiving this & working on it last year! this is my first time working in this genre, & it hasn't been beta read all the way thru, so please let me know what you think!

warnings; pov change, a butt load of angst, age gap (reader is in her thirties), violence, death/murder, near death experience, voyeurism, female masturbation, male masturbation, male!recieving, female!recieving, penetrative sex (if ive missed any feel free to let me know!!)

taglist; @likedovesinthewnd @harmshake @nightmare-viper

word count; 7.3k

summary; Joel's been pretending you don't exist for weeks now, and you have no idea why. But when you get caught up in a life or death situation, confessions are made, lines are crossed, and your relationship is changed.

Every single part of Joel's body hurt, and he was exhausted. Joel was always exhausted, but this day had been particularly hard. Everything that he - and you had gone through had been for nothing. The supplies and weapons you had been looking for had been looted already. Only a few old, rusty tins of food covered in at least a years worth of dust had been left behind. Not to mention the constant hoards of infected you had to fight through. Now, it was a fight to get back to the QZ to make another plan that could end the exact same way. Yeah, he'd had plenty of bad days, but this one would sting for a while. The hope that had been reignited had gone out again. Now he was just tired.

No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't sleep. He was just lying on the hard floor -the fabric floor of the tent and his blanket doing nothing to help with the lumps under his back- with his eyes closed and ears alert. He knew how dangerous it could be, the horrors lurking in the woods, even when it was calm and quiet, and he hoped you had heeded his advice and were asleep with your gun.

But then he heard a whimper, and his eyes shot open as he stayed silent, his hand on his pistol. A barely heard whine, and he sighed with relief as he realised it was you. These past few weeks had been taxing - although the past twenty years hadn't exactly been a cake walk - and it dawned on him that you were probably crying. Joel had been so drained and tired during dinner that he selfishly hadn't noticed you were unusually quiet. He also didn't think about it when you retired to bed early. Joel tried to ignore the sounds, but he couldn't, he was just picturing you curled up in your tent, crying yourself to sleep, and the guilt of not noticing anything was wrong was gnawing at him. He groaned and slipped out of his tent, making his way to yours while putting the gun in the back of his jeans.

He quietly navigated the campsite and stopped outside your tent, unsure how to proceed. Did he knock on the fabric door, or did he call out your name? He wasn't good at this stuff, and he hadn't been for a long time, but he also knew that you needed someone; or, more specifically, you needed a friend. You were just that kind of person, even if the world had forced you to pretend you weren't. For a few seconds, he couldn't hear anything, but just as he was about to give up, he heard another noise, but this one sounded more like a moan. Then another one, louder now, and there was no mistaking it that time. Joel's body stiffened, and he started to get hot as his cock twitched at the thought of you getting yourself off, mere feet away from him. He heard your sleeping bag rustle slightly, and he bolted back to his tent, breathing heavily as he zipped the tent door.

He stared up at the roof of the tent, trying - but ultimately failing - not to think about what he'd just almost interrupted. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, and he had to unbutton them just for some relief. He tried to divert his thoughts, to think about anything else, but his mind took some winding paths just to get him back to thinking of you. Joel groaned. He needed a release, and it had been a long time since he'd done, well, anything. It wasn't going to hurt anyone, and you were doing it just mere feet away from him, so what was stopping him? They were all flimsy arguments. He knew that, but it was the easiest solution to the problem at hand.

Joel slipped a hand into his boxers, his cold touch sending goosebumps down his spine, the sensation making him harder. He began to stroke himself, and when he closed his eyes, he could see you writhing around in your tent, your fingers deep inside yourself. He could hear you from your tent still, your quiet whimpering and moaning sounding out through the stillness of the forest, and Joel caught his own moan in his throat as his movements got quicker. He couldn't bring himself to care about the possible dangers lurking, the grip he had his cock on tightening slightly as pictures of you clouded him. He imagined you being in here with him, imagined that you were both watching each other. It didn't take long for Joel to make himself orgasm, and he cleaned himself up, hoping sleep came to him before the guilt did.

-

Joel spent the next few days convinced he was going crazy. Every time you looked at him, he was sure you could see the guilt he was struggling to hide, like his memories would be projected for you to see. Every time you said his name, he was waiting for you to tell him you knew what he'd done, that you'd seen him outside your tent, and heard him in his. He felt so dirty, creepy, ashamed, and at some point, he shut down completely. He knew you were confused, you weren't as good at hiding your emotions as you thought, and you were confused by what you could've possibly done to warrant the cold shoulder from Joel, who could barely look at you, and it made him feel worse. He just didn't know what else to do, so he went back to what he knew best.

After traipsing through the woods for what felt like forever, Joel just wanted to set up camp and get through the night. He was tired, sore, hungry, and needed a moment away from you, without your sad eyes staring at him, without your attempts to get him to open up. So when you announced that you'd had enough and insisting that you stop for the night, Joel didn't argue. While Joel set up the tents, you gathered some wood from the perimeter of the "campsite", and Joel took a moment to watch on fondly, smiling to himself at the smug look of accomplishment on your face, taking the "win" against Joel.

Dinner was silent that night, as the past few had been, and while Joel refused to look up from his food, you were refusing to take your eyes off Joel. Your gaze was burning a hole in his head. He felt scrutinised as he ate, and it took everything in him not to engage. He didn't know if you were trying to annoy him into talking to you or if you were lost in your own thoughts, but he didn't ask.

Once again, straight after dinner, you headed into your tent, sending a soft "goodnight" Joel's way. He looked up but not before the sound of the zip echoed out, and he sighed, rubbing his temples.

The fire had died long ago, but Joel still hadn't found the energy to crawl into his tent. He stared up at the starry night, and just as his mind started to wander into dangerous territory -somewhere he never went if he could help it- he heard the noise that had been playing on a loop in his head for the past two days. His cock stirred and he covered his face with his hands. Not again.

He knew he had to get back to his tent and fast, but he had to do it quietly. He began to slowly move the canisters and empty tins, careful not to make any noise. He didn't want you to think he was a pervert. Although that's exactly how he felt right about now. He was about to stand up when he heard a single word from your mouth that made him stop in his tracks.

Joel.

Fuck. Oh fuck. Did you know he was there? Did you hear him? Could you see his silhouette projected on your tent, like it was a cinema screen? He ran through a hundred excuses in his head as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw no signs that you'd heard him. He scoffed at himself and shook his head. He really was going crazy.

Mmm, Joel, don't stop!

He definitely wasn't going crazy, there was no mistaking it. Not only were you masturbating, mere feet from Joel, but you were moaning his name, and he had never been so hard in his life. He couldn't stop himself, and once again, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, and while you moaned and gasped from inside the tent, Joel pleasured himself.

His precum was seeping out and over his fingers, and he bit down harshly on his lip to stop his own sounds from escaping. His motion got quicker, matching the sweet sounds coming from your tent, and when you brought yourself to orgasm and Joel's name slipped from your lips, he came undone. He emptied himself onto the dirt, too entranced by your gasps to notice the streams spilling over his fists. He dropped his head against the log behind him and groaned.

"Shit."

-

It happened three more times, and Joel had never been more conflicted. He was constantly stressed and on edge; the guilt from what he was doing was eating away at him. He'd always been someone that could control himself - he had to be - but when it came to this, to you, it was like something triggered inside him. He'd known you for years and had never had these thoughts or these feelings. Then again, he'd never spent this much time with you, and he'd never heard his name fall from your lips like that.

Joel couldn't deny he thought you were beautiful, and that maybe it inflated his ego a little, that you were thinking about him while you fucked yourself with your fingers, or dreaming about him, but he was under no illusions that it meant anything. You didn't have feelings for him. He was just the only person you'd seen in weeks that wasn't trying to kill you, and feelings get warped. Especially with the way the world was now. Besides, he'd seen the guys that hung around you like moths drawn to a flame. They were much younger and fitter than Joel was. Yet, he found himself as one of those moths, and he couldn't help but imagine how it would feel to be caught in your flame.

Joel was no longer waiting to hear you to get himself off. His mind would conjure up images that made it so he couldn't help himself. Images of your mouth around his cock, your hair tangled in his fingers as he fucked your face. His head buried deep in between your legs as he ravished you, his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of ecstasy. Of his cock slamming into you, his fingernails leaving little indents in your ass as he gripped firmly. The fact that he would never get the real thing didn't bother him. He was content with his fantasies. But he still felt guilty, and the tension between you and Joel was getting worse.

But things were beginning to simmer inside Joel, and his secret masturbating habits were no longer the sole reason for his behaviour. Joel would look over at you, by the fire feading the book you'd memorised front to back, and he'd let himself imagine running his hands through your hair as you sat lazily against him. When he slept, his dreams were of a life he'd never thought he'd want - or have again, and you were always by his side. He'd dream of dancing with you in the living room, waking up beside you, the sunlight making you glow like an ethereal figure. He'd dream of being happy. He'd put it down to the ridiculous situation he found himself in and told himself that once you were both back in the QZ, things would go back to normal. You would go back to people your own age, and Joel would just be a memory of a small fantasy you had while on a difficult run.

But then, as if the universe was trying to intervere, everything changed. The abandoned building you'd been hiding out in turned out not to be not so abandoned, and the two of you had gotten yourselves into a sticky situation. Hunters had cornered you, and in all the chaos and commotion, the last man standing had grabbed you, now using you as a human shield with his arm almost choking you, a knife pressed just above your collarbone while Joel had his gun aimed right at him.

"I'll take yer girls head off!" The guy yelled. Joel could see you were terrified, and it took everything in him not to let his rage consume him. He knew that one wrong move could get you killed. He needed to be smart about this.

"Look, man, we don't have much, but you can take it all. Just let her go." Joel said, trying to keep his voice even. He was terrified that he wasn't going to be able to save you, and he couldn’t live with that. It wasn't just about someone else that he cared about dying or about him failing. You understood him, and somewhere along the way, you had unknowingly brought him out of the darkness. You were his beacon of light, and if he lost that, if he lost you, he wasn't sure he'd ever find his way out of the darkness again.

"Yeah? What if I want 'er?" The hunter sneered, caressing your cheek with his knife, pressing the tip into your skin ever so slightly.

"Not an option." Joel growled.

"Seems like it is to me. I could drag 'er outta here right now. There ain't nothing you could do about it."

-

You felt sick. You couldn't believe you'd let yourself be distracted by Joel being tackled to the ground, and now this disgusting pig had you in a fucking headlock. You'd seen Joel take down hunters and the infected, sometimes effortlessly, so why the hell did you freeze when Joel had been pinned to the floor momentarily? Your feelings for Joel were getting more and more confusing, and you didn't like it one bit, they were going to get you or Joel killed if you carried on like this. 

It's not like you wanted to be attracted to Joel, not when there wasn't a single thing you could do about it. Why would Joel ever go for you? He was twenty years your senior, old enough to be your father. There was just no chance in hell. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from fantasising about him. It wasn't hurting anyone, and it was keeping you somewhat sane, and he'd never know.

"You won't make it out of this room." You heard Joel say in his deep, gruff voice, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeezed shut when you felt the man breathing on your neck, the hot air making your stomach twist, bile rising up your throat as he inhaled your scent, his own vile one violating your senses. You clenched your fist and felt the cold blade of your dagger against your arm, the one you'd forgot you had up your sleeve, literally. How big of an idiot was this guy? How didn't he see you had a knife? As Joel and the hunter traded words, you quickly formulated a plan. If you could somehow manage to stab - or at least slash the guy - maybe he'd let go of you, and then Joel could get a shot in.

"Let go of me!" You shouted, struggling slightly, while slipping the knife further down your sleeve. It worked, and you smirked proudly. You raised your eyebrows at Joel before glancing down at your hand, subtly flashing the knife. You looked back at him, then darted your eyes to your captor. Joel took a second, and you knew he was weighing up his options before he nodded slightly. His eyes darted down to the guys leg, and you winked to let him know you understood the plan. The man still had a fucking knife to your throat, and you didn't want to give him any warnings or ideas.

"Don't worry." The hunter said, 'I'll look after 'er good."

Joel nodded to you, and you clenched the knife, stabbing right into the hunter's thigh. His yells of pain echoed around the room, and he released you from his grip, the knife in his hand clattering to the floor. You stumbled forward, kicking the weapon across the room, but you thankfully managed to stay on your feet. You grinned at Joel, feeling victorious, but it was a fleeting feeling.

"Fuckin' bitch!" The hunter shouted and you turned around, but not quick enough. The knife was sticking out of his thigh, but it didn't seem like he felt it, he was too overcome with rage, and the back of your head slammed against the wall as the hunter pinned you by the throat. You gasped for air, the guys hands squeezing the life out of you, spit flying as he screamed in your face.

"I'll fuckin' kill you, you goddamned bitch!"

You tried to pry the man's hands from around your neck, but it was no use. He was too strong, and your vision was fading rapidly. You were barely able to gasp Joel's name, and you were quickly losing consciousness. All you could do was stand there and let the darkness consume you as you thought about Joel. The way he'd try to hide his smile when you did something wrong, or when you said something silly. The way he laughed, how it was the rich sound you rarely got to hear. How he protected you, even though he clearly didn't want to be around you. How you were going to die, not knowing what you did to make him ignore you the past couple of weeks. Not knowing why he had this sudden disdain for you.

But then, the pressure around your neck suddenly disappeared, and you fell to the floor, gasping for air as you clutched your throat, your eyes wide and darting around wildly, searching for Joel.

He appeared on his knees in front of you and grabbed your face, his panicked, brown eyes staring deep down into your soul.. "Hey! Hey! Are you alright? Come on baby, just breathe for me."

His large hands were warm on your cheeks, the hunter's blood that stained them smearing across your skin as he caressed your cheek, but still, you leaned into his touch. He had never been this gentle before; in fact, he'd never really touched you unless being dragged by your wrist as you ran from infected counts. "I'm okay," you managed to say, and Joel sighed with relief.

"We need to move. Can you stand?" Joel asked, and you nodded, eyes closed as you took a few extra slow, deep breaths. "Okay. Take my hand."

You opened your eyes to Joel's outstretched hand and you took it, letting him haul you gently to your feet. He hooked his arm under yours to help you walk, and as you concentrated on walking with shaky legs, Joel guided you to the door. "Wait here." He said, disappearing out the front door to check for any danger.

As he did so, you turned to inspect the chaos you were leaving behind. Your stomach lurched as you saw the blood pooling around the dead man with a clean, almost surgical, maroon slice straight across his neck, and you wondered just how many times Joel had had to do it, to get such a clean cut. Your eyes snapped back to the door, where Joel was staring at you, his eyes wide and sad, like a puppy, before they hardened. "Let's go." Joel said. "We'll find a house to hide out in."

*

The universe had decided you could both use a break, and less than two hours after the attack, deep inside the seemingly never-ending woods, the two of you came across an unlocked cabin, the keys just sat on the side table. Joel put his finger up to his lips, and you nodded, following his lead as he crept through the front door. He pointed at you, then at the spot you were standing, and you nodded, doing as you were told while Joel checked it out. Neither of you wanted to take any more chances after today.

"Hey, you might wanna come check this out!" Joel's voice echoed through the cabin, and you closed the front door before heading towards the sound of his voice.

The cabin was rustic and run down, and looked to have been abandoned for a decade at least. It had been a hunter's cabin, judging by the animal heads mounted up on the walls, staring down at you with their black, beady eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere. The fireplace was brick, an axe resting against it with piles of wood stacked in front. You turned around and found Joel in the kitchen, staring down at the sink. As you got closer, you heard the familiar sound of a running tap, and you smiled. You'd take any kind of water right now, anything to get rid of this day.

But then you saw it, dancing through the air, rising from the tap. You were convinced you'd imagined it until you saw Joel's fingers rolling together under the water, a look of shock on his face.

"Is that what I think it is?" You asked as you got closer, and Joel nodded. You gingerly held your fingers out, anticipating cold water, not wanting to get your hopes up. But when your fingers hit the warm water, you let out a bewildered laugh, cupping both hands under the water, letting it spill over as it slowly but surely got hotter. "I can't believe it!"

"Yeah, well, we deserved a win eventually." Joel replied. You made eye contact, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards slightly, his eyes darting down to your neck before he took a sharp breath and turned away. "You should go have a shower."

"What about you?" You asked, and he sighed.

"Just go. I'll wash up here."

-

After stripping off your clothes, you looked at your reflection. Only then did you notice the bruising around your neck, and the blood smeared across your cheeks. You could still feel the way the hunter's hands squeezed so tight that you could feel the life draining from your body. You could still feel the panic and terror you felt and the relief when Joel forced the hunter to let go. The look in Joel's eyes when he held your face, the gentle touch as he caressed your cheeks and brushed your hair out of your face. You thought you'd made your peace with dying long ago, but that was until you almost met death, and it made you realise you didn't want to leave Joel. If Joel was in your life, maybe living was worth it.

You were so lost in thought, staring at your scarred body in the mirror, you didn't hear Joel knock on the door. It was only when the door burst open with Joel shouting your name that you turned around, surprised.

Joel kept his eyes on yours, refusing to let himself cave and look down; although it's all he wanted to do. You knew you should grab the towel, or the shower curtain, anything to cover yourself, but you were frozen, like Joel's gaze was keeping you locked on the spot.

Joel cleared his throat and shoved a bundle of clothes into your arms. “Sorry, I-uh, I thought maybe you were- it doesn't matter. I found those, thought you'd want some clean clothes.”

He left, slamming the door behind him, and you exhaled. You ignored the thoughts creeping in and the heat rising up your body and climbed into the bathtub under the running shower; watching the dirt and blood trickle off your body and down the plughole. Once the water ran clean, you stepped out, patting yourself down with the small towel. You then filled up the bathtub with hot water and then threw your underwear and clothes into it. It wouldn't fully clean them, but it'd be enough for now. You picked up the oversized flannel and pulled it over your shoulders, forgoing the jeans that were way too big for you, even with the help of a belt. You sighed and headed back out to Joel.

The fire was burning, the crackling wood echoing through the cabin. Joel was sitting at the wooden table in front of the window, sipping on a glass of wine. There were two plates of pasta on the table, a glass of wine next to one of them. You padded across the room and dropped into the seat opposite Joel, studying his face as he stared out the window. The sky was pink and orange as it set through the trees, the view almost as beautiful as the one sitting next to you; the light of the sunset cascading over Joel. He turned his head to you, and you glanced down at the food. Joel cleared his throat.

"I found some pasta and wine in the cupboards. It only went out of date a few weeks ago." He explained. "It should be okay for us to eat."

"I'm sure it's fine." You replied, "anything's better than beans again, right?" You leaned forward and took the glass of wine, taking a long sip, basking in the way it burned your throat slightly. It had been so long since you'd had even a sip of alcohol, you could swear your head was already fuzzy.

Like most dinners lately, this one was silent. But this was slightly different, considering you were probably the safest you'd been in a long time, and you were eating actual food off actual plates. If you and Joel were in a better place, it would be almost considered domestic. You might even consider staying here, leaving the QZ far behind. But you weren't, Joel could barely bring himself to talk to you — he couldn't even look at you. You really thought you were turning a corner with him until his behaviour changed one morning without warning.

"We should stay here for a couple of days, then head back to the QZ." Joel said. You sighed and finished your glass of wine, but it wasn't enough.

"Great." You replied, looking around for the bottle of wine. "Then you can go back to pretending I don't exist." You weren't sure where the outburst had come from, but you were pretty sure it had something to do with the alcohol running through your blood.

"Pretending you don't- what? I don't do that!" Joel insisted.

You scoffed. "Oh please, you're not as mysterious as you like to think." You said, although there was little truth to it. "You didn't even know my name in the QZ, yet we were around each other for months! I thought we were getting somewhere, but lately, you've been acting like we're strangers!" You told him.

"What?! Okay, maybe I was a little isolated in the QZ, but it's not like that now!" Joel replied, his fork clattering on the plate when it dropped from his hand. "All I do is worry about your survival!"

"Riiiiight, because you care so much." You said, rolling your eyes.

"It's my job to pro-"

"Your job?" You repeated, offended by his words, although you couldn't place why. "Well, allow me to relieve you of your duty." The chair screeched across the floor as you stood up and grabbed your unfinished plate and glass.

Joel inhaled through his nose and groaned. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Well, I mean it. Leave. I didn't need a babysitter before, and I don't need one now!" You said loudly, heading to the kitchen for a reprieve.

Joel growled and slammed his palms on the table as he stood up, refusing your reprieve, following you to the kitchen. "I'm not leaving you to die out here. Which, you would've already if it wasn't for me. You've proven that multiple times!"

"Maybe," you replied, dropping the plate in the sink, staring at Joel, whose eyes darted away. "But I'd rather die alone than with someone who can't even stand to look at me!"

"I can't look at you because you drive me fucking crazy!" Joel exclaimed, his patience finally having worn thin. "Ever since I heard you moaning in that fucking-" He stopped, his eyes wide and on you as he realised what he said; watching his words dawn on you as your face cracked.

Nausea, or quite possibly embarrassment — rose from your stomach up through your oesophagus, and you drank from the glass of wine that was in front of you — which wasn't quite the best course of action as it didn't sit well on your spinning stomach. Joel had heard you masturbating. That's what he was saying, right? There wasn't anything else he could possibly be referencing. But why would it drive him crazy? Joel could be uptight sometimes, but it didn't seem to be in a "women shouldn't pleasure themselves" way.

You blinked a few times, and Joel's face came into focus. He had closed the gap between you both, now only a few feet away. He looked awkward as he shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

"You heard me mast -" You stopped, unable to say the word out loud, and you sighed, feeling ridiculous. "You haven't been talking to me for weeks because you heard me -"

Something clicked in your head, like a light had just been switched on. You hadn't just gotten yourself off once. And at some point, you began to fantasise it was Joel's fingers, or mouth, even his cock instead of your own hand. You were aware a couple of times his name had slipped from your lips, and you'd clasped your hand around your mouth afterwards, praying he hadn't heard you.

It was beginning to seem very likely he had heard you, and something in you shifted from embarrassment to…something else, and you arched your eyebrow, finishing off the glass of wine for some extra courage.

"You heard me say your name.” You said, arching your eyebrow. Joel stared before he nodded slowly.

“I heard.” He confirmed, refusing to break eye contact. The air in the kitchen had shifted; it was thick with tension, and Joel wondered where this was going.

You hummed and tilted your head. “What did you do?” You asked, smirking when it was clear it caught Joel off guard.

"What?”

“What did you do, Joel?” You asked, leaning back against the counter. Joel's eyes darted to your bare legs before slowly dragging them up your body, stopping at the three open buttons that exposed your cleavage.

“I thought I heard you crying, so I came to check on you.” He explained. “When I got to your tent, I realised you weren't, and I went back to my tent.” His eyes darted to your face before he closed the gap between you until he was practically on top of you. “I tried to ignore you, but I couldn't help myself.” He lifted your chin with his index and middle fingers, so you were staring at him through your lashes. Your lips parted slightly as your chest rose and fell, your heart pounding against your rib cage. “I kept hearing your moans and thinking about you in that tent, and it got me so - I had to -”

His eyes were dark, full of lust, and you instinctively licked your lips slightly. "You- couldn't help yourself, huh?" You asked. Joel arched his eyebrow and tentatively reached his hand up to your cheek. He traced his finger over your cheek gently, and you closed your eyes as you inhaled. "Hearing you moan my name," He said, running a path down your jaw to your neck, "it sounded too good."

You reached up, closing the gap between your lips. Without hesitation, Joel reciprocated the kiss, his hand still around your neck as the other slipped around your hips, resting on the bottom of your back, pulling you closer to him. His bulge pressed into your crotch and you could feel it getting harder as the kiss deepened. You tugged his brown, leather jacket from his shoulders while Joel started an assault on your neck. If this lasted forever, it still wouldn't be long enough.

"Is this a good idea?" You asked through the gasps as he nipped and sucked at your neck.

"Mhmm, giving me some mixed signals here." he mumbled against your skin before pulling away, his mouth inches from yours. "I think it's a fucking great idea. Don't you?"

“I'm not sure.” You confessed. Joel cupped your cheek with his hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb, his eyes soft, even if still full of lust. Was this a good idea? He'd spent weeks ignoring you, and it felt like Hell — but the way he kissed you, the way he touched you; it felt like Heaven.

"I don't care if it's a good idea or not." You replied, and Joel grinned.

"Good," he replied, "Because you have no idea how much I need you right now."

"Then show me." You said, and Joel growled before he pressed his lips against yours and instigated another passionate kiss, illicting a moan from you. He picked you up and dropped you onto the counter, spreading your legs so he could step in between them.

The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing together as both sets of hands roamed each other's bodies. Joel's hands cupped and massaged your breasts as yours unbuttoned his jeans, using your heels to push them down his legs. One hand trailed a path from your breast to your stomach, dancing around the place you needed him the most.

"No panties, huh?" He said into your mouth, his finger tracing a path up your slit so gently, it was like he was using a feather. "I never would've known you were such a slut." His finger grazed your clit, and he grinned as you bucked your hips.

"Maybe if you'd acknowledged my existence, you might have found out earlier." You replied, grabbing his bulge through the fabric and squeezed, tight. Joel gasped into your mouth as he thrusted into your hand, and it was your turn to smirk against his mouth. If he could tease you, you could do the same, you thought as you slipped your hand into his boxers, relishing the feeling of his cock in your grasp.

Joel growled, his hips bucking before he shoved two fingers inside you without warning. A yelp mixed with a moan slipped from your mouth as you threw your head back, and Joel groaned. He kept his pace up, pushing his fingers in and out of you, feeling your walls clench around them as he watched your face contort with pleasure, your moans echoing throughout the kitchen. Not even his fantasies could have prepared him for how incredible this felt. If using just his fingers made him — made you feel this good, he couldn't wait to use his cock.

But he would wait. For weeks, you had — albeit unknowingly, driven him to the brink of insanity. Clouded his mind so he couldn't focus on anything; which is why he didn't notice the threat today, which almost cost you your life. So now, he had to drive you insane in the only way he could.

He dropped to his knees and pulled you by your legs so you were hanging off the counter. He then hoisted your legs over his shoulders, and you watched Joel as he studied your cunt — the look in his eyes resembled one of a wild animal, one that was finally allowed out of its cage, to roam free as its right. Yet, he was biting his lip; almost like he was holding onto that last tiny bit of control he had left. But you wanted — no, you needed the wild animal, and so you tangled your fingers into his hair. He looked up at you, locking eyes as he let you guide his head to where you needed him to be.

Shivers ran down your spine as his beard tickled you as he dragged his tongue over the skin on the inside of your thighs. Once again, he touched every piece of you, but not where you needed.

“Joel,” you whined, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you bucked your hips, "Please." You begged.

“Oh baby, you're already so wet.” he tutted, his finger running through your folds and teasing your entrance before he lifted it to your mouth and pushed it between your lips. “Your pretty pussy is glistening for me.”

You tasted a hint of your juices as you wrapped your tongue around his finger, keeping your gaze on him as you did. He groaned, imagining how good your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. He pulled his finger out, and you gasped when he pushed it inside you. When he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, you gasped and arched your back. “Oh shit, fuck, Joel.”

Every sense was heightened as Joel flattened his tongue and lapped at you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he swirled his tongue around your clit. You pushed yourself against him, practically hanging off the counter, making Joel grab your ass with both hands as he buried his face into you. With his beard grazing against you and his tongue pushing you further to release, your thighs gripped his head. Every single part of you was on fire as his assault on your cunt continued, and you could feel your orgasm brewing.

So could Joel, which was apparent as his pace got quicker, bringing in his fingers to help finish the job. With his thumb circling your clit and his tongue deep inside you, you reached your climax, Joel's name spilling from your mouth. As you threw your head back, grinding yourself against his face; you saw stars, all while Joel kept up the relenting pace.

He finally pulled away and stood up, grinning as he leaned towards you. His beard was glistening, and when he kissed you, you could taste yourself on him, mixing with the wine you had with dinner. Joel hooked his arms under your legs and scooped you off the counter; carrying you fireman style out the kitchen, through the sitting room and into the bedroom, where he dropped you on the bed. He crawled on top of you and dipped his head to kiss you. It was a soft, sweet kiss, one that you didn't want to end, so when it did, you whimpered, and Joel smiled softly.

“You still wanna do this?” He whispered. “We can stop if you want to.”

You leaned up on your elbows and gave him your answer with a kiss. He pressed his palm on your cheek and deepened the kiss, pushing you back down as he did. The two of you made out like two teenagers, and you could feel Joel's cock hardening against you. You slipped your hand in between your bodies and gripped his cock, rubbing the head against your entrance. Joel groaned, his head falling into your shoulder. He bit down as you pushed his cock inside yourself, your moans harmonising, the sensation almost too much.

Joel took over, grabbed your hands, and pinned them above your head. The animalistic look was in his eyes again, grunting with every thrust, his grip against your wrists tightening. You closed your eyes, and Joel growled.

“You thought about this while fucking yourself.” He said, his voice low. “Open your eyes and look at me while I fuck you.”

You opened your eyes and were met by Joel's big, brown ones that were now practically black. He fucked you harder, thrusting in and out as his thumb once again circled your clit. There was a ninety-eight percent chance that someone on the other side of the forest could hear everything, but at this moment neither of you cared. After weeks of awkwardness, of fantasising about each other while you touched yourselves, this felt right, like something had finally clicked into place — and you'd be damned if this was the first and only time it happened. Now you'd had a taste, you couldn't ever go back.

Joel picked up the pace, and you could once again feel your orgasm rising. You pulled Joel closer, your foreheads touching, your vision falling out of focus as you stared into Joel's eyes, but you refused to look away.

“Fuck, Joel, I'm so close” You whimpered, bucking your hips to meet his thrust, his cock hitting deeper each time you moved.

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna -” Joel grunted, your synced thrusts getting faster. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moaned. “I'm gonna, shit -”

“Let go for me, Joel.” You whispered in his ear. “Come for me, and next time, I'll show you what I can do with my mouth.”

It only took a couple more thrusts before you and Joel finished together, and he slumped on top of you, breathing heavily. You lifted his head up, brushed his hair out his face, and smiled up at him, hearts practically in your eyes.

“So…” you said, and he reciprocated the smile. “Sooo…” He repeated.

“Are you going to be all weird with me again?” You teased, and Joel arched his eyebrow, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“I don't think so,” Joel replied, dipping his head for another kiss. “Especially if I want this to happen again.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you think we're doing this again?” You asked, and Joel grinned.

“Oh we're definitely doing that again.” Joel answered, and you giggled as he rolled off you and reached a blanket that was on a chair next to the bed. He flung it over the two of you before pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips against your temple. “I wanna know what you can do with that mouth.” He mumbled.

You giggled again, your heart fluttering as he linked his fingers around yours and kissed your knuckles. “Keep this up, and you'll find out.” You replied before a yawn slipped out.

“Alright you little tease, I think I can hold out until tomorrow.” Joel chuckled. “Right now, I think you need to sleep.”

You snuggled into Joel's chest, his fingers running through your hair. You never thought you'd be in this position, in bed with Joel Miller. You knew there was a lot more to talk about, but right now, you didn't care. You just focused on Joel's heartbeat under your head, on his fingers in your hair. Focused on how — even though there were still many dangers to staying in this cabin, it was still the safest you'd been in a long time.

The last thing you heard as you drifted into a peaceful sleep was a quiet confession from Joel; one you weren't sure you were actually meant to hear. “I'll always keep you safe. Even if it means giving my life.”

[sourwolf-sterek32]

The Dirt (Your Version)

Summary: Meeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control.

Or

A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Tommy Lee x Reader, Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Trigger warning- substance abuse, drug overdose, descriptions of drug paraphernalia. 

Previous Chapter

A/N: I've added a few paragraphs from Nikki Sixx's book 'The Heroin Diaries'. So, if you don't want to read Nikki's real words just skip past the paragraphs written in italics throughout this chapter. No judgement if you choose not to read them because Nikki's book hit hard, and I cried like a baby. 

Chapter 14- The Heroin Diaries

You awoke the following morning after finally managing to fall asleep sometime during the early hours of the morning. The glass shards in your knees had been taken out and bandaged and there was now a blanket draped over you which definitely hadn't been there earlier.

"Hey." Vince's voice said gently.

You blinked, looking around realising that you were on the couch and your brother was leaning against the wall watching you with a small smile.

Why the fuck was he smiling? Nikki was fucking dead and-

"He's alive."

What?

No. This had to be a dream. You were still asleep because Nikki Sixx died last night. He was gone.

You shook your head, tears rising in your eyes, "don't... don't lie to me."

"No, no." Vince rushed across the room and knelt beside you on the couch. "Doc called. Nikki just left the hospital after pulling tubes out his nose and tearing the IV out his arm and telling everyone to fuck off."

Your jaw dropped in a mixture of shock and relief.

"Doc said he walked out with only a pair of leather pants on." Vince added like that piece of information was important. But you were barely listening to anything else too caught up on the fact that Nikki wasn't fucking dead.

"Oh my God." You whispered sitting up on the couch as tears of utter relief trickled down your face. "He's alive?" You double checked.

Vince nodded, "Nikki is alive."

You were on your feet in an instant nearly barrelling your brother over in your haste to put your shoes on.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Vince asked following you towards the front door as you slipped on your boots.

"To find him."

You grabbed your car keys and was out the door before your brother could say anything else. You pushed the speed limit by double as you sped across town to his house which was probably stupid, but in that moment, you were not thinking about anything else other than finding Nikki and making sure he was alive and had gotten home from the hospital.

He had been living in a house at Valley Vista Boulevard in Van Nuys. Doc referred to it as the 'Heroin Den' which you hated with a passion, but it was probably true. It had been years since you were last inside his house. Nikki never invited you over and you knew it had to do with his drug addiction, so you had no idea what to expect when you arrived.

There was a new 10-foot-tall security fence surrounding the house with a steel barred gate at the front. You pressed the button for the intercom, but as suspected there was no answer. Taking a stab in the dark for the pin code, you keyed in 666 and shouldn't have been surprised when it actually worked.

You made a mental note to lecture Nikki on his home security at a later date. Right now, there were more important things to focus on.

You waited impatiently for the steel gate to slide open before you hit the gas and sped up the stupidly long driveway, skidding to a halt in front of the house and rushing to the door.

"Nikki?!" You shouted knocking on the door while frantically pressing the doorbell.

You waited for a moment before knocking again but there was no answer.

Damnit, Nikki.

You tried the door handle, but it was locked.

Typical.

Glancing around the front porch your eyes landed on a large stone gargoyle statue by the door. Nikki used to keep his spare key under a similar gargoyle statue, so you stepped over to it and tried to lift it, but it was made of pure stone. There was no lifting this stupid statue. There was however a small hook behind its head and hanging on the hook was the spare key.

Wow. Nikki really needed to up his security around here.

Snatching the key from the back of the statue, you quickly slotted it into the lock and sighed with relief when the door clicked open. You rushed inside and closed it behind you while scanning the living area.

The house had changed a lot since you were last inside these walls. To say Nikki decked out his house was an understatement. Ralph Lauren, crushed velvet comforters, buried walnut antiques, more gargoyles, Persian carpets... it felt as if you had stepped into the 1800s. Even the gate and fence around the house looked medieval.

It was suiting for Nikki Sixx, and not what you were expecting in the slightest. The only problem was the bassist was nowhere to be seen.

"Sixx? Are you here?" You called out, jogging up the stairs taking two at a time. "Sixx?"

His bedroom door was slightly ajar, so you pushed it open cautiously. Clothes and rubbish were scattered over the floor of his room. Empty beer cans and Jack bottles littered his dresser along with empty doggie bags still containing small amounts of white powder.

He wasn't here though.

Where the hell was he?

You vaguely remember him and Tommy telling you once that they both liked to do drugs in their closets. You had found it strange at the time, but they insisted that the small tight spaces made them feel safe because sometimes drugs, especially heroin, made them scared and paranoid.

You turned to the closed door of the bedroom closet and hesitated.

It was more than a closet -it was a safe space, and it was private.

"Sixx?" You tried again, but there was no answer.

Without wasting anymore time, you pulled open the double doors of his closet and your stomach dropped at the sight inside.

Nikki was sprawled out across the floor. A needle still dangled from his arm. The carpet below him was covered with blood. His blood that ran down from the needle point.

He was still wearing his leather pants and no shirt, but his eyes were closed, and his skin was ghostly pale.

"Fuck, Nikki." You hissed, rushing inside trying to ignore all the used needles and drug paraphernalia everywhere as you skidded to your knees beside him.

"Sixx? Hey, hey, can you hear me? Nikki?" You called out, cradling his face in your hands. "C'mon, Sixx. Don't do this to me. Wake up!"

He was smacked out and incoherent, but he was alive.

Nikki was alive.

You reached down and carefully pulled the needle out from his arm and inspected it trying to gauge how much he had taken, but it was impossible to tell. There was still some dark liquid inside the syringe, but you didn't know how much was already in his system.

Should you be calling for an ambulance?

You glanced around the closet not knowing what to do before rushing out his room and into his ensuite turning the shower on cold because that was the only way you knew how to wake someone up.

Dragging Nikki's unconscious body out the closet and across the bedroom was a mission on its own. But you managed to get yourself sitting inside the shower with the bassist held firmly against your chest allowing the cool water to wash over him.

It didn't take long before his eyes snapped open, and he gasped awake. His groggy eyes blinked slowly as if trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened.

You quickly reached up and turned the shower off, your own clothes and hair drenched through and clinging to your body as you shifted him in your lap and cupped his cheek with your hand.

"Hey, are you with me? Nikki?" You asked, caressing his face gently as his drowsy, sunken eyes met yours.

He stared up at you for a moment his brows furrowing as he blinked before the weight of the world crashed into him. The events of everything that had happened flooded over him like waves upon waves beating him down until his blank expression cracked into something utterly broken.

"I-I'm sorry." He said, his rough voice barely above a whisper before tears welled up in his eyes and he cried.

"Shh. It's okay. I got you. It's okay." You soothed, as he curled in on himself in your lap while his body wracked with an onslaught of sobs and tears.

This was a side of Nikki Sixx that you had never seen before. A side nobody had ever seen, and it made your heart shatter seeing him so broken.

You sniffed quietly, tears threatening to spill from your own eyes as you leant down and hugged the bassist in your lap not knowing what else to do except be there for him. Both of you were drench from head to toe and you knew you should get him out of those wet leather pants and into something warmer, but that could wait. Right now, he needed this.

Eventually, you got Nikki out the shower and into a pair of sweatpants and a shirt before helping him into bed. His body was still weak and tired from the drugs. While he slept, you went through his closet, bedroom and entire house, and threw away all the drugs.

You spent hours cleaning. You went through every room, every draw, every cupboard finding all the bindles of coke, pills, booze and syringes, and disposed of the lot. His closet was deep cleaned. The blood and other bodily fluids on the floor cleaned up too. The only things you didn't dispose of were his two guns.

The double-barrel shotgun that had been leaning against the wall of his closet use to belong to his grandfather. It was an old Winchester that dated back to the early 1930s. You knew how valuable it was to Nikki, despite how much you hated him having these weapons when he was drugged out of his mind.

You picked up the 12-gauge carefully and flicked the break action lever cracking the weapon open to find two shells sitting inside.

It was fucking loaded.

Jesus.

You took out the shotgun shells from the barrel and shoved them in your pocket for the time being before stepping out the closet. Nikki was still asleep on the bed, so you walked across his room to the large body mirror on the wall that you knew had a safe built in behind it.

It might have been a while since you were last inside Nikki's house, but some things were still the same. Thankfully.

Grabbing the edge of the mirror you pulled it away from the wall exposing the safe that Nikki had built himself many years ago. You keyed in 666 again because you wouldn't put it past the bassist to use that code for everything, but it didn't work.

You paused staring at the keypad for a moment before trying 1958 and the safe clicked open.

He really shouldn't use his birth year as a safe code. If anyone broke into his house it wouldn't be hard to guess. But, right now, you were glad he did.

After placing the shotgun and two shells inside, you walked over to his bedside table where you had noticed a .357 Magnum was sitting. Pistols were not very familiar to you. Shotguns and rifles were due to the many stupid camping and hunting trips your father would force you and Vince to join him on. So, you knew how to handle those guns, but you didn't know much about pistols.

The Magnum was loaded though, you could see the bullets clearly in the cylinder and had no idea how to eject them. You'd probably be able to work it out but knew better than to fiddle with a loaded weapon. So, you carefully picked it up by the grip and ensured to keep you finger away from the trigger before putting it inside the safe and locking it shut.

Once you were sure there was not a single doggie bag or used needle left in the premises, you switched out your own wet clothes and slipped on one of Nikki's oversized shirts to wear as a dress while you put your drenched clothes into the dryer downstairs.

Upon returning to his bedroom, Nikki was still fast asleep under the blankets. He looked peaceful and younger while asleep, his features more relaxed and at ease, but his skin was still a little pale. While watching the bassist sleep, you noticed a small leather-bound notebook half hidden under the bed.

Curiosity got the better of you and you quietly walked over to the bed and picked it up.

It was an old book. The leather faded and edges torn. It wasn't uncommon for Nikki to walk around with a notepad and pen. He was constantly writing down words and sentences that he would later turn into lifechanging lyrics.

Figuring this was one of his song writing books, you opened to the first page and began to read.

'December 25th 1986 Van Nuys, 7:30pm

I guess I've decided to start another diary this time for a few different reasons... 1. I have no friends left 2. So I can read back and remember what I did the day before. 3. So if I die, at least I have a paper trail of my life (nice lil suicide note).

Merry Christmas... it's just you and me, diary. Welcome to my life.'

Your jaw dropped as you read over the word's realisation hitting you hard. This was Nikki's diary. Nikki Sixx had a diary.

Your eyes shifted from the paper to find the bassist still asleep in bed before you looked back down at the diary in your hands feeling as if you were holding Nikki's entire life in your fingers. Perhaps you kind of were.

Diaries were not meant to be read by other people. They were private. And the fact that Nikki had this hidden under his bed was enough evidence to prove that he did not want anybody ever finding this. You should put it back and pretend it didn't exist. That would be the right thing to do.

But Nikki had just overdosed yesterday. Did he write in his diary yesterday? Has he written in it since being back home from the hospital?

"You're going to hell, Y/N." You whispered to yourself before sitting down on the carpet beside Nikki's bed and flicking through the pages.

You skim read paragraphs here and there before skipping towards the back of the diary and stopped when you reached December of this year, 1987.

You glanced back up at Nikki on the bed. He was still out cold. Guilt swelled in your stomach at what you were about to do, but it wasn't enough to stop you before you began to read through his entries needing to know what happened that resulted in Nikki nearly dying.

'December 16th 1987 Hotel, Tokyo, 2pm

Lately I've been slipping deeper into thoughts of... why? I don't know why, I am just slipping deeper. Some days I don't know how much longer I can hold on, or why I would even want to. You'd think I'd be excited about selling out three nights at the Budokan but I'm rotting inside and all I smell is my putrid past... it haunts me. Maybe to you it would seem like a surface burn but the pain is too deep for surgery.

P.S. I'm so lonely I nearly called Y/N to my hotel room but that wouldn't have been good for either of us. She's still in pain. I see it in her eyes every day. She's drinking more too, but I haven't said anything. That'd be the pot calling the fucking kettle black, right? I wanted to call her into my room though... it must have been the cocaine I got from the Yakuza.'

This was not what you had been expecting to find inside Nikki Sixx's diary, although you weren't exactly sure what you had been expecting in the first place. Maybe some drunken ramblings or dirt on the other bandmembers, but not these soul wrenching words of truth.

Nikki had noticed your drinking. That wasn’t good. Were you really that bad at hiding your feelings?

'December 17th 1987 Hotel, Tokyo, noon

I know I'm dying from depression. I feel like a lost soul... like the only person left on Earth. If I died, would anybody cry? It seems to me by putting myself out of my misery I'd be killing two birds with one stone.'

'December 18th 1987 10pm

Just got offstage. Last show of the year. I don't wanna be on the road and I don't wanna go home. If I go home I'll get strung out again.'

Fuck.

Nikki knew. He fucking knew coming home to this house by himself would end badly.

Tears burned in your eyes as you read Nikki's scribbled writing. You knew Nikki was struggling, but you never realised the full extent of it.

'December 21st 1987 Hotel, Hong Kong, 7pm

I'm alone. It's not nice...

Waves of depression come over me, then anger, then disinterest. I'm already drunk, I guess, if half a bottle of Jack is drunk. I actually don't feel anything, but maybe that's just me.'

'December 23rd 1987 Van Nuys, 9:30am

Unravelling, unsure, underdetermined, unnecessary... this is what my life has boiled down to. I either have to stop or die... I can't straddle this fence any longer. I have taken into my lungs the longest breath of hell and I'm still here.'

The pages were blank after that.

That was the last thing Nikki wrote before overdosing on heroin.

You hadn't realised you were crying until a couple tears splattered onto the paper smudging the ink in two small circles. You quickly closed the diary not wanting to ruin the page before tucking the leather notebook back under the bed where you had found it and looked back up at the bassists sleeping body through teary eyes.

Nikki was practically screaming for help in these diary entries, but nobody knew. Sure, you noticed his addiction getting worse and had even called him out on it, but you didn't know how bad it had gotten.

Why didn't he come to you? You could have helped him. You could have been there for him...

Fresh tears began to spill from your eyes, so you went to the bathroom where Nikki wouldn't be able to hear you cry if he woke up. You sat on the edge of the bathtub leaning forward with your hands on your knees as you sucked in a few deep shaky breaths.

Tears streamed down your face like a river of sadness as you thought about all the pain Nikki had been silently battling with. You continued to cry, and each stifled sob echoed the loud, resounding ache in your heart.

-

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

[yukkoislost]

aight ive had this in my gallery for a while now since it's like,, my first md art ever,,

i haven't updated my fic in forever but this is art for it !!! i was going to wait to post it originally but i'm not sure when i'll next update it because life so,, meet the disassembly drones :)

more below cut,,

if u nvr read my book before (it's terrible and also probably going through a rewrite effective immediately when i'm free) then the cheer team/jocks wear like school assigned uniforms and the uniforms are white brown and yellow instead of how it was like in og because i gave those colours to the disassembly drones LMAO

it IS an all girls party i have my reasons for that too which uhm idk if it will be revealed in the long run but if not in the main book i'm planning a side story too so,,

in exchange for giving them coloured clothing i made their lights neon white :3 with a hint of their own personalized colour ofc. it was originally going to be different coloured lights but i changed my mind oops

yeah it is uzi doll and lizzy,, will they make a good team? probably not. are they always fighting? absolutely. why'd i not use the first letter of their names? if uzi was going to be called uZi then i figured i'd take whichever letter their names sounded like the most and use that instead :) lizzy got E because uzi already has Z 🏃💨💨💨

why they have coloured clothing?? yk the concept of bright creatures being dangerous but attracting attention? same idea 😼

[teenandbeyond]

could i request a part 3 of your yautja x reader series ! its such a good read ive been catching myself going back and rereading it all over again !

Yautja x Fem. Reader Pt.3

Decided to kill two birds with one stone for the last of the three shots.

I wanted to sate your thirst, dark fic readers since y'all been asking for a while (even though I'm not the best with this style, nor is it my usual type).

Edit: Low-key had to rewrite this before it turned into some 50 Shades of Grey shit...I got...invested (which says a lot considering I'm not deep into the Predator fandom.) Then I got sleepy, so I didn't double word check :) Edit 2: If y'all ever want to request the prince again, I can do it outside of the series...probably, it depends.

Want more from me? Masterlist 1 Masterlist 2

Part 1

Part 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Little Princess (Predator)

Warning(s): Smut content, breeding, jealous Yautja, squirting, size difference, long asf (Might be the longest I've done for Yautja?), fingering, noncon details, possible triggers, exhibition (being watched), whipped Yautja (couldn't help but add a pinch of fluff for the last one)

The prince Ta'yto seems to have taken quite the liking to you, you've become his little Princess to breed...

✨✨✨✨✨

You briskly walked through the halls of the palace, not wanting to be late.

Ta’yto didn’t appreciate when you were late, last time you were punished for it, forced to sit on his lap throughout an entire meeting, how embarrassing.

The thing was, this place was a labyrinth and with the language barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to ask for directions. You had to solely depend on your memory.

Peeking down one way, your gaze flicked over the long walkway, “Here? No there isn’t a candelabra there…”

Which only left the walk way to your left a few feet ahead, you stalked ahead.

Just as you made the turn, you bumped into a solid chest, the firmness making you collapse to the ground, all the jewelry you wore ringing in the hall.

“Owww…” you rub at your forehead, squinting your eyes and craning your head up to see who you bumped into.

It was a Yautja male, not the prince you belonged to, Ta’yto had longer hair and he was wider, this one was slim.

“Sorry—Um…You don’t speak English, right, that’s pointless, [Name],” you muttered to yourself.

You stumble to stand up and straighten yourself due to the slim fit and flowiness of your dress.

A few clicks was all you got in response.

You gave a polite smile, “I should get going—”

He titled your chin up with a finger, seeming to observe you, arm pausing in its movement as he took sight of your blooded symbol.

“Ah…I should get going…”

As you moved to leave he grabbed your arm, easily stopping you, he began to trail his other hand from your chin to your hip.

“Let me go. This isn’t a good idea—”

You were cut off by a growl that felt like it shook the palace.

The predator touching you turned around to kneel to who was in front of him, which meant one thing…

The prince was here to collect you.

His footsteps must have been light before, they were heavy like thunder now.

He stopped in front of him, gesturing for him to stand and when he did stand…

You actually realized how tall Ta’yto was compared to someone other than you, he was at least a whole head taller than the predator in front of him. Having to lean down to be face-to-face—since at the moment his mask-thingy was off (you didn’t know what it was called).

There were a few exchanges of clicks, before Ta’yto decided to toss him away at the wall that connected to the entry of the other hallway.

You had to blink a few times to process that he tossed a fully-grown predator—you assumed anyway—with ease.

Then his head slowly turned to you.

You raised your hands in surrender, “I didn’t—ah! Put me down!”

He had simply tossed you over his shoulder, resting his hand comfortably on your ass as he turned to leave to his quarters like he usually did.

You see, after the fifth time with you, he decided you would officially be his mate. You were his favorite, so you had the privilege of sharing his quarters with him. He--despite kidnapping you and everything-- gave you luxury you didn’t expect, elegant dresses and jewelry from distant planets—learning you regularly needed food and water, made sure you were provided with some, and anything else you could need.

The only things that irked him, was one, despite all these things you still fought—admittedly at times he enjoyed it—it was still no less irking. Then, the fact that you never used the power you had as his top mate to decline the young and impulsive predators who tried to sneak and use you for themselves, knowing that you were taken. He had marked you with his clan mark—damn it, his name for goodness sakes.

Ta’yto found it quite adorable when you muttered angrily in English, thinking he didn’t understand a single word. Sometimes you had a colorful array of names to call him, both in irritation and in pleasure.

“The throne room?” you wondered as you noticed the familiar doors close.

After the short trek up steps, he set you down, only long enough to plop into the sturdy throne and set you on his lap. He sighed, gripping your thigh through the dress.

“I…he didn’t do anything really…” you tried to assure.

At this point, you didn’t necessarily hate him anymore, but you didn’t like him much either.

It was kind of hard to when one minute you’re fighting to the death together only for you to get betrayed and get brutally handled by him.

But he did, he touched what didn’t belong to him.

All he had to say was that ‘She was so tempting. I’m sorry, Prince Ta’yto. I won’t do it again…’

Ta’yto spread his legs, yours following along, before you could even react his rough hand slid under your dress.

“What are you—” your breath hitched as his nails gently grazed against your inner thigh, so close to the warmth between them.

It had been a while since he hand his hand there, after the first time, he’d just preferred to get straight to it.

You whimpered as playful fingers trailed up, his finger moving over the bare, pink, flesh with calculated strokes.

You clenched your thighs to stop it, “Not—Not—”

He simply grunted and spread them open again with his free hand that had been on the armrest.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to contain the thin amount of dignity you still had, you wouldn’t let him win that easily.

Trying to ignore how much more sensitive your body had become each time he had his way with you.

But you couldn’t stop the drawn-out gasp that left your lips when he finally slid in two of his fingers, providing you with a little relief after the immediate tension he created inside you.

But what you hated, was that your body was excited, because you knew two wouldn’t be enough to prepare for him, he’d have to give you more.

You stiffened when the door opened, the advisor or whatever he was had walked in, but after taking in the situation, he gave a few clicks and turned to leave.

But Ta’yto’s voice stopped him, he said something you didn’t understand, which they nodded to before leaving.

You didn’t have time to wonder what that was about because then he was moving again.

Your brows scrunched as you tried to focus, his guard is lowered, you could possibly attack him. He may be stronger than you, but move quick enough, you could immobilize him.

Your eyes flicked over to the sharpened spike on one of the sides of his foot rest. Thinking of all possible scenarios for a few minutes. But you would have to bend and reach for it, that would be too much time.

“I—can you stop for a second…I…I’m too sensitive…” you attempted.

Not that it worked, of course.

Then the door opened again, it was the Predator from before in chains.

You could feel Ta’yto chuckle behind you, before speaking to the Predator in their language.

“You know. The thing about tempting things, they aren’t attainable to scum like you…The reason I brought you here, is to remind you what’s mine and that you can’t have her. You aren’t permitted to speak or leave until I tell you. Think about this the next time you decide to touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

He turned his attention back to you who had turned your head in embarrassment and closed your legs, even though the scum couldn’t see underneath the dress.

He spread your legs again, giving his hand access to move, “This is mine. Only I can touch it like this, you could only ever dream…”

He quickly switched from a tame pace to a rough rhythmic one, making you gasp and let your head fall into his chest.

“Didn’t you touch her here?” he gripped your chin that had been touched before, forcing you to look at the chained Predator, as he added another finger, “Well, I’m reclaiming it.”

This should’ve still been embarrassing to you, but it so, so, erotic, so…so strangely powerful all you could do was tighten around his fingers.

You gripped his arm tight, “Please, it’s too much, not—not yet—hah…”

You found your hips moving to meet his fingers, desperate for the soon coming release.

“And every other place your slimy hands touched her... She doesn’t smell like me as strongly anymore…that needs to change.”

Your nails dug into his bicep, not that he felt it much.

He likes that his research on female humans and what brings pleasure was put to good use with you.

Speaking of…should he try that new thing he learned about yesterday? Well, since he has an audience, he might as well give a show.

In the same motion he tore off your dress, your places were switched, your bare body sitting on the throne while he stood, towering over you, before kneeling down.

Which confused you, considering he was the royal one and you were not.

But you were totally clueless to the fact that this Yautja was so addicted he had no problem doing so at any time.

With another quick move, he gripped your legs and tugged you forward, it was so sudden, you had to grab the armrests to steady yourself.

“What…what are you..?”

His face was way too close to your nether regions, you could feel his breath, which made you twitch each time.

What was he going to—your eyes widened as you felt a wet muscle brush against you.

What was going on? Was he—? Where did he learn this?

You yelped as the few cautious licks of a forked tongue became ravenous, he gripped your thighs hard as his tongue teased you.

“Ohhhh,” you sighed out, biting your lip to keep quiet.

But that’s not what he wanted, so he slid in the hard muscle.

You gripped the armrests for your life, barely able to hold eye contact with him as he devoured you like a starved man. And the mandibles brushing against your skin made it worse.

You tossed your head back, a desperate moan leaping from your throat, the feeling too good, tears bubble up to your waterline, “Please don’t—Not that—Not there—Please!”

But he doesn’t pause, he just gets impossibly more aggressive.

He wants the tears to fall, that’s what always happens before you break. He wants you to break.

He adds his fingers into the equation again, the minute he does, you’re gripping his head like a lifeline.

The closer you get, the louder you get, which he likes. He likes when that composure you try so hard to keep disappears. Shatters before his very eyes. He keeps his eyes on you, wanting to see the moment when it happens.

And it does, but not in the way he was expecting, your chest hiccups as the tears finally fall and you shake your head, almost like you want to refuse the feeling, but you don’t, not really, he knows that.

“No, no, no, I can’t…no…”

And your hips jerk, you’re no longer able to control them and a water-like substance escapes from you. He quickly gets over the surprise and happily excepts it. This is new and you show no signs of being in pain, more than the usual anyway, so he succeeded, right?

Then your crying is of embarrassment, you hadn’t done that before.

But he doesn’t allow you to wallow in it for long.

Your breath is ragged as your legs shake, but you know he never shows mercy on you.

Definitely not today since he’s showing off how beautiful you are and how well you take him, that he’s got something no one but him can have. No one.

The second thing different about today, he rubs a thumb against your thigh, as if saying good job or good girl.

He doesn’t stay there too long, ready to cleanse his mate of the scum that dared touch her completely.

You whine as he finally sheds off his loincloth, you’re way too sensitive to take him now.

And he knows you’re sensitive. He knows you’re sensitive as he lifts you by your shaky legs to place you on his lap again as he sits on his throne. He knows you’re sensitive as he rubs you against his erection as you face away from him. He knows your sensitive as he moves one hand to the hip that was touched.

But he knows you can handle it, his little pet always handles it.

“Ahhm! Fuck!”

He growls as you suck him in, your body molded into the form his wanted. Now your body so greedily accepts him as compared to before. He fits so perfect, like your body conformed to his shape. You really are just for him.

“She fits me perfectly. So, you see—ngh—you could never satisfy her anyway, you peasant.”

You barely have time to settle before he’s pounding away.

“Sense—sensetiv—!”

Haven’t you learned by now that he doesn’t really care?

You’re just his little pet—

Well, Ta’yto supposed that wasn’t true anymore.

You were more than a pet—although you were still a pet, his little pet—

You were more than that…his true mate—no…his princess.

Maybe he should marry you.

Would that be strange? He might be looked at weirdly since it wasn’t a thing for his race.

But if he got to pound into this every day, this hot, tight, warm—

Anyway, you were the best mate he’s had…you were fit for royalty both figuratively and literally you fit him into you like he was meant to fill you whenever.

Speaking of filling, you’d look absolutely ravishing with a little bump, at this point he genuinely wanted it.

He’d have to do his best to be gentle no matter how arousing the sight would be. He wouldn’t be able to not fuck you, so at the very least he’d just be gentle and still be able to feel you around him like a vice as you held his child.

The thought of impregnating you gave him a whole new burst of energy.

His little princess having his little baby.

Maybe more than one, how many babies could a human have without dying?

He wanted that many.

“Too much—Too-too much! Please, I—I can’t” you sobbed turning your head into his side.

Little princess, don’t you know your tears only spur him on? He likes when you cry.

He grips the inside of your knee a little more, ramming into you. Wanting to unsure he fills you with strong seed, strong enough to give him children.

You spasm around him as you release again, the feeling so intense it’s hard to stay conscious as you settle.

But his pace barely slows, despite the tightness, and only speeds up again once you finish.

You beg, “Please…I'm done...I...”

Your head collapses onto his chest as darkness takes over you.

And he doesn’t stop, no, not until he spills every drop into you.

"The thing is princess, I decide when you're done."

And a month later he got what he wanted, a cute little bump, his little princess.

And oh, how he wished he could ravish you how he wanted…but he’d have to wait for that.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hiii! Ik ur not taking requests buuut I did have this kinda angsty idea I thought was worth sharing 😁, tangerine comes home to fem!readers apartment for dinner, and sees that the place was broken into and is immediately alarmed and runs around trying to find reader. Then he stumbles upon her cat (u can name it whatever) dead because it turns out the people who broke in were some of tangerines enemies and sent a message. :( anyways he finds reader scared to death hiding in a closet, and she asks him where her cat is, and now he has to break the news :(((

hii!! as a fellow cat mum, you just ripped out my heart:((( I love and hate this. im gonna say this, and im sorry in advance, but this isn’t my best work, I had too many ideas and im not entirely sure it all works. ive just been working on it for a little while so I need to post this so I can start others. im really sorry again, I feel a little embarrassed. if you’d like me to rewrite it, that’s okay too :) thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

leave

tangerine x f reader

wc || 0.76k

warnings || death of readers cat (no details, I couldn’t bring myself to add descriptions) and no happy ending, bc im mean hehe

also I am taking requests, this is just an old ask. but there is a delay atm, sorry

masterlist + rules

taglist

As the girlfriend of a well-known assassin, you were well aware of the likelihood of being used as bait between rivalries. You knew the cost but nothing could’ve ever prepared you for being caught in a vendetta fuelled crossfire.

You were huddled at the back of your closet hiding under piles of clothes with your face buried in your knees, mouth muffled by your hand as you waited for the final clatter of objects in the room next door. You didn’t know what they wanted and you didn’t know why. All you wanted was Tangerine.

After the long-awaited silence, copious amounts of fear settles in when you hear the front door swing open again. Blocking your ears, you cower in on yourself, trying to be as still as possible in the chance they had returned for seconds. But what you didn’t know, is that Tangerine had just made his way back to your place from the local shop.

A thick lump gets caught in his throat as his eyes bug wide, staring around at your trashed apartment. Fear engulfs him when he sees tipped sofas, broken frames and holes in walls. He bolts inside unarmed without a second thought, stumbling over destroyed objects as he searched for something he hoped wasn’t true.

Tangerine stands panicked in the centre of the room, breathing erratically as he gazes around your place.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He mutters, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. His eyes dart around, searching for signs of kidnapping until his gaze hones in on a still fluffy object just out of sight. He slowly makes his way over, walking lightly as not to scare the possible creature.

As he gets closer he feels his heart begin to crumble further. Whispering. “Mandy?”

He stands mere inches away as he looks upon your lifeless furry companion, avoiding glances at your cat's crippled state as he bends next to her. Silently comforting her with a delicate stroke as he sniffles. “What have they done to you?” He says, barely audible as he swallows a couple tears.

His body stiffens when he hears a rustle from your bedroom, immediately rushing up and darting into your room, heatedly kicking the door open. “Who’s there?” He shouts, fury-filled adrenaline being his only distinguishable emotion.

You hear the familiar voice of your boyfriend so you begin to slowly push the door open, looking through the gap to check you weren’t thinking wishfully. Steadily crawling out you see him.

The initial noise startles him, but when he sees you, he instantly softens. Running over, he drops to his knees before you. “Oh thank fuck,” he mumbles, instantly wrapping his arms around you, pulling you tight into him. “I thought I lost you.”

He momentarily separates to look over you, his worried eyes darting across your face as he wipes the dampness from under your eyes. “Are you hurt?” He questions, cupping your face in his hands. “You okay?” He asks again, searching your eyes as they widen with thought.

“Did Mandy get out? I-I opened the bathroom door for her— she- she was supposed to go out the window— did she? Did she get out? … Did she get out? Did she?” You repeatedly question, more and more panic fills your tone.

Pushing away his hands you rush to your feet, stumbling up as you try to get away.

“No— please,” he mumbles, gripping you to stop you from leaving. “You don’t need to go in there.”

Speaking with hurt as you immediately think the worst. “Why?” Bottom lip slowly starts to quiver.

“You don’t need to… okay?” He whispers, pulling you back to him. Embracing you tightly.

“No…” you mouth, feeling your eyes instantly well. “…no…”

His tone is filled with empathy as he cradles your head, softly smoothing over the back of it. “I’m so sorry.”

“Get off me.” You retort, pushing away as you stand to your feet. You see the pain of dismissal on his face as you reach for the door. Speaking sternly as you avoid his gaze. “Just… just leave me alone.”

There was nothing that Tangerine could say or do right now that could possibly help you, you needed time… and lots of it. You knew that it wasn’t directly his fault, but you couldn’t help but feel angry at him. You had just lost your best friend because of his enemies. Because of him.

—————

hii! sorryy but I won’t be doing a part 2, I left this as an ending that’s up for interpretation 💌

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @screams-and-scarecrows @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @woffelle

[toaster-hair]

There’s a Human in the Neighborhood! (chapter 5)

(important authors note: Hi nyall :3! Sorry i havent written in so long, ive been more hyperfixated on other things like across the spiderverse and lolita fashion, and i’ve also been working on other projects. I have a skullgirls au tumblr blog, my original comic raw!fruit, im redrawing the welcome homes cast’s portraits with my own headcanons added, as well as general oc content. But with welcome homes new update, it motivated me to write again. I feel as though when welcome home is finally finished up, ill rewrite this entire fic to make much more sense. Anyways, heres a content warning. As said before, this fic focuses on how gross human anatomy can confuse wholesome puppets. Its a bit hard to write about gross anatomy stuff without veering into nsfw territory, so suggestions would be appreciated. But this chapter in particular is about periods! The fic is written about a gender neutral AFAB reader, so if youre amab or if periods are just off the table for you, feel free to skip!)

A painful stab at your stomach woke you up from your slumber. “Ough..” your sudden movement spooked your cat. You held your torso in pain, feeling a sharpness in your pants. It was still dark, with the only light being the sun coming through your blinds. You stood up, making your way to the bathroom and….

Blood. Lots and lots of blood stained your undergarments. That explained the sudden pain you were feeling, it was just that time of the month! You went back to your bedroom to make sure you didn’t bleed the bed, grabbed some clean clothes, and turned the shower on. You also grabbed some pads out of the cabinet under the sink. You brought them from your old house but you should probably buy some more later.

You stepped into your shower and let the warm water soak your body head to toe, flourishing yourself with all kinds of soap. Once you were finally cleaned up, you stepped out and dried yourself. You put on your clean clothes, grabbed some pain killers, and went back to bed.

-

You woke up once again a few hours later. You got up, did your morning routine, had breakfast, fed your cat, and picked up the phone. You decided you would call in sick because of the pain and nausea. God, why does the first day have to be the most painful? You dialed the number for FishEgg Boba and waited for an answer.

“Helloo? This is FishEgg Bobaaa. How may I help youuu?” You heard Casper answer the phone.

“Hey Casper, It’s Y/N. Uhh.. I know it’s only my second day but I’m calling in sick. I’ve got… cramps real bad. I don’t wanna move that much. Is that okay?” 

“Oooh. Sure that’s fiiine. Just make sure to come in tomorroww. See you thenn. Hope you feel better sooon.” And with that, he ended the call. You felt kind of bad. It was only your second day, and you were taking a break already. You were probably missing out on some training too! But at the same time, everyone made it seem like yesterday you were working too hard when you weren’t even on your period! You can’t imagine what it’ll be like to work like that while on your period. 

You then remembered your plan to get more pads. You were good for now, but it was always a good idea to stock up. You put on some outdoor clothes consisting of some basic gym sweats and a baggy jacket. You gave your kitty a goodbye kiss on the forehead and headed out the door. Gee, this was the second time in a row that you went to Howdy’s. 

Wait… Oh yeah they’re puppets. I forgot. I mean you forgot that they were puppets. Of course they won’t have pads. You went back inside and grabbed some money, looks like you were heading out of town after all. As you headed back out again, you spotted Wally walking out of his house as well. You walked over to him, sense you promised you would chat in the morning last night.

“Hey Wally! You wanted to talk more this morning, right?” you stared down at him. 

“Oh! Yes! I wanted to know about how it went. Ah, but shouldn’t you be at work right now?” he asked.

“Oh, uh.. Yeah, the thing is that I’m uh, not feeling very well. So I’m taking the day off. I’m going back tomorrow though.”

“Ah, I see. You aren’t sick again, are you? Do you want me to go get Poppy?” He held at your knees like a dog jumping on its owner. 

“No, no. Not sick, it's just.. I may gross you out at the explanation?” You gestured with your hands “Is that okay?” You asked. He stared at you with a blank expression but nodded his head.

“Okay so basically uh.. When a human with a womb starts puberty.. Uh, and a womb is used for baby making purposes by the by, their womb starts to shed for a couple of days straight each month. That’s because the womb wants to make a baby but doesn’t have the ingredients to make one, causing the womb to pump out blood. This can cause pain, nausea, all that nasty stuff. That’s just a basic explanation, anyways.” He kind of just. Stared at you with half lidded eyes the entire time. “Uh, I don’t need to explain what blood is right?”

“Oh no, we have that too.”

…

What. 

“W-wait, if you’re bleeding.. Then.. did you just start puberty??” There was this look of anxiety on his face, which felt so odd and out of character.

“No, no, you still bleed even after puberty. Well, that is until you hit your 60’s or something. It’s not gonna go away for a while.. Haha, if I was still that young, I wouldn’t even be here!” You laughed at him a bit. He let out a sigh of relief. 

“Sorry.. I don’t know much about how human bodies work…” He looked away out of embarrassment.

“Oh, I can show you.” You reassured him. “Ah- What??” He stared at you slightly horrified, slightly considering your offer.

“Yeah dude, there’s a ton of books about human anatomy. Going from the bone to the skin. I can order you one online! If you want, of course.” You pulled out your phone and showed him various different anatomy books.

“Oh… No thanks, I'm fine.” He turned down your offer in a slightly disappointed tone.

“That’s fine. I need to go out of town for a bit to go get something, see you later!” You waved goodbye as you started to walk to the train station. You then suddenly felt a sharp pain in your stomach, but you kept on walking.

You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was waving goodbye right back at you.

(A/N: i wrote this in one night i hope you enjoy!! Ill try to include sally and julie in the next chapter :3333)

[itoshi-s]

Ive been rewriting 4th rabbit hole so much and tho i hate sending short ideas but i found this and am obsessed with it,, a cute plushie of rin is your only companion while hes away and tho it will never compare the thought of it is euphoric, giving u enough dopamine to be satiated but the real one wont be so latient with the obv disrespect -🐇 (ps what if u strap it with ur fave dildo... imma shut up now before this gets out of hand)

UWAAAAAAH NONNIEEEEE </3 please this has been livin in my head rent free...... the disreSPECT AKJHFAOIS

cw stepcest /sorry i cannot help myself akfhsalfksa this goes into the i&i au i guess

you're just too needy, all too desperate for your own good :( and it's not even your fault, rin had it coming for him tbh as soon as he got you that silly little plushie - mainly as a joke, because you teased him abt it ever since he told u the news that it's in the making - and started spraying it w his cologne every time he had to leave you for a few days. rin's rules are clear, and usually not all that hard to follow - you're not to touch yourself, at least not without his permission. you don't have much problems following through with it - not until rin leaves for a few away games in a row, and you just happen to hit a slump w all your university work.

you're all too hormonal w your ovulation coming up, too, and you just need to unwind. you're always on your best behavior, it won't hurt to abide the book for once, right? but your toys are locked in the pretty little leather case that only rin knows the code for, and your fingers just don't feel as good as your nii-chans anymore. you try to hit all the spots that would make your toes curl, but it seems like he's the only one who can do that by this point :( finally, you try to hump your pillow - well, rin's to be exact, cause it smells just like him, woody and citrusy - but it's just a tad too big, brings your legs in a weird spread that feels more uncomfy than anything else. you roll onto your back, frustration collecting along your lashline in crystalline tears, and just then you feel something dig into your lower back. reaching down, you pull the silly little plushie from under your body - and hold it up in both hands, eyes slowly widening in embarrassment upon your very own thoughts that pop up in that head of yours. it's silly, you know that, and you're not quite sure how you even got that idea in the first place - but next thing you know, the toy is already snug between your trembling thighs as you grind down on it. the embroidery feels a bit rough, just enough to help the familiar sensation build deep in your tummy, and you’re coming all over the soft plush within minutes. once the realization hits, you truly do want the earth to swallow you whole — cause it really is embarrassing, in a way, how you couldn’t even stop yourself and used the innocent sweet gift from your lovely nii san for such lewd thing. but it feels good, better than the pillows or your lithe fingers; and it smells just like rin, thanks to the generous spritz of his cologne. it helps you out numerous times during your lonely stay at rin’s paris penthouse — and you figure out you might need to treat it just like the usual, proper sex toy, and give it a proper wash. that’s where rin finds you when he comes back home — worn out and exhausted from the games and long ass flight, tugging the suitcase behind him. you don’t really hear him until he’s stood in the doorway in your laundry room, leaning against the frame. ‘hi, baby,’ he hums and startles you enough to make you jolt. your face heats up, right up to the very tips of your ears, and you grip the plush toy close to your chest- as if to hide it away. ‘nii chan- you-you’re back,’ you sound a little funny, rin thinks, and it’s what peaks his interest. you turn around, the stuffed toy in hand still, and he wouldn’t think anything of it at all if it wasn’t for your wide eyes. as if you were caught in the act — of what? he chuckles a bit and furrows his brows, cocks his head to the side slightly, ‘what’s with the look?’ rin muses, reaching a hand out to grab at your own - or maybe at the plush toy. you’re not too sure, and it makes you breathe nervously. ‘missed me much? i knew you’d like it.’ he knows something is up when you pull your hands away and give a nervous laugh <//333 and so, he fixes you a puzzled glance, cogs in his head turning as he watches you shake your head, ‘y-yeah. i- it got dirty though, spilled somethin-‘ you start to blabber and stumble over your words, and as he reaches to grab at the toy - just for the fun of it and to test you out - you quickly reach behind yourself and throw it back into the washing machine. and because he knows you all too well, each and every look of yours engraved in his mind, it clicks !!!!!! and it leaves him speechless 😭 for a second, rin’s eyes widen and he wants to laugh - he’s so amused, by the way you fidget in your spot and give him the widest eyes, embarrassed to a fault - until he realizes that no matter how cute and silly this might’ve been, you weren’t exactly good this time around. he struggles to bite back a chuckle, shaking his head a bit as he pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘you’re unbelievable, baby.’ he sighs - and as humored as he sounds, you know rin nii already. the real deal is always better. and he’s about to prove that <3

[crowboss-whore]

Any tips on writing?Ive been wanting to write for a show i like but I’m not very confident on my writing since I’ve only done it in school work lmao

Mmm... I think it depends on what exactly you're writing? I'm more of a multi-chapter fanfiction kinda person. So I like to mind dump everything in one doc and figure out how everything connects. My outline-- "outline", it's just a bunch of wild thought slapped into one place-- is a mess of stuff.

Like-- Will this scene actually make it into the story? I don't know but it gives me an idea for what I want!

My writing comes out in a "dump this shit, fix it while we go" kind of writing. Which is an honest mess because I can get very frustrated. I'm fine so long as I have an idea of what I'm writing for that chapter! Which is usually what helps me get over my frustrations and just go "okay, let's retry it."

Your writing is personalized to you. Don't write with another's success in mind! But don't be scared to take inspiration.

Other than that, just go buck wild lmao. I'm usually not that confident until I stare at the chapter and go "fuck it! We ball!" and post it.

If you want, you can throw what you've written down into a text-to-speech and hear how it flows. Figure out if you need to add, delete, or rewrite something. It helps a lot!

Here are some stuff as examples! These are things that came to mind and I scrambled to write them down. Are they going to make it in? Dunno! But will it help me get an idea of dynamics and personalities, and let me figure out how to connect things? Yes!

EDIT: I, in my complete TOM-FOOLERY, forgot to mention that I save what I "delete." There are so many scenes that I write and end up liking but it doesn't match what I'm feeling. Sometimes, when I write, I get this image of a bunch of scribbles on top of each other and it makes me so upset. So I scrap the chapter or what makes it feel messy and rewrite. But I don't just delete it, I save it in a completely different document! Who knows, I might be able to use it or something in a future chapter! (Examples of this are also under the cut!)

Examples of scene alternatives -

I didn't like how it felt despite it being perfectly fine to read now! I think it was because I didn't know how to approach the transition from this to the race scene. I have so many alternatives for Chapter 12 that it's not funny.

This was scrapped because I didn't like how aggressive I made Seer. Ngl, chapter 10 was very rough for me because I didn't know how to write it. Seer isn't like me-- I'd have shut down any interaction with Macaque if I had to go through what they went. But they aren't me and they're a rather forgiving person who has claws. So I struggled a bit!

Dunno if this helps but I hope it did in some ways!

[elephant-in-the-pride-parade]

12 and 14 please!

From the Unpublished Fic Asks? Sure! Lemme see..

12. How far have you planned ahead?

Usually this depends on how long the fic feels.

Feels like <20K I dont plan. I just start from whatever scene got me hooked and i spin the idea forward or back from there.

Feels like >20K. I usually write whatever scene got me hooked and then figure out the basic premise of every chapter. what are the major plot points i need to build out. I dont start writing anything else until I at least have all the tentative chapter titles and 1 big thing that will happen in them. Anything in the middle is usually pretty flexible but i need to know the ending or else i cant really get far.

Now where I get into trouble is fics like Out of Reach or Unbroken.

Out of Reach (Chakotay gets amnesia) I never thought it would get as long as it did and I had built it up to be quite big without knowing which ending i wanted. im still debating what i want there and how the characters can achieve it.

Unbroken (Basics rewrite) god i thought i had this one but the ending wound up being too vague. so that i had a hard time grasping the full shape of the story. and that's made writing the middle very complicated. i need the ending to make sense, have the gravity and impact that it needs to but that means the middle has to go just right. exploring that has been fun but definitely dont want to share more yet because i keep tweaking things.

14. Is there any unwritten/unpublished fics you planned on doing, but now you're feeling like you're gonna scrap those ideas?

Ive scrapped a lot recently...

mirrorverse-esque J/C. struggled with the characterization.

Pirates of the Caribbean AU J/C - it started as a killing game scenario but i really am not enthused by watching them lose. Then i thought it could be an interesting historical AU but the amount of research to give it the authenticity it deserves is more than I have time for. I think I'd still like to do it to see KJ Elizabeth Swanning all over the place. but maybe create it as its own unique holodeck adventure instead.

It's hard for me to say im truly scrapping any though because usually i canabalize the scrap heap and the ideas will wind up useful to some other fic. That was the case for my first Voyager fanfic. I envisioned Maquis Heart as a 3 part YOH alternate ending but while working on part 3 i realized i'd rather have it be the kick off for a longer story about what it was like reconnecting with Earth in Season 4. So i shelved that for later.

[atlantis54]

2 3 19 and 21 for the writers asks!

2. well, at first, but after a while i think i'd just give up lmao. that plus i tend to be pretty disorganized so unless im keeping it in a folder or smthn that wip is going straight to the shadow realm /j

3. hmm... i guess it'd have to be having a brainrot about my wip ideas over the course of at least a few days and then losing all motivation when i actually sit down to try and make it real. it happens a lot-

21. probably not. ive been into writing since i was little, and its a hobby thats stuck to me for years, so having to quit something i enjoy doing so much sounds like a nightmare... that being said, im always welcome to take breaks from writing. a hiatus is fine but flat out quitting is a no

and finally, ask 19, which is really, really long, so ill just put it under a read more for the sake of everyone lmao

19. i started when i was really little. what age? cant remember. i had a very early love of reading and writing, so i decided to start writing stories! i originally started on paper, writing stories about whatever scenario came to mind. it didnt matter if i finished them or not, i still enjoyed it, yknow? however, the thing i loved most was making comics which combined my love of art and writing.

after a long while, i stopped with the random scenarios and started focusing more on developing coherent stories that were tied together. surprisingly, i didnt start writing online until i was around 8 or 9. it started in powerpoints of all things where i rambled about the ideas i had for my OCs and (again) random scenarios, as well as getting my friends to do roleplays. i still miss the pokemon rp me and my friends made in 3rd-4th grade ;w; good times

eventually, i moved on to the much more sensible word documents (this was when i was 9, 10 or 11 i think) where i began the creation of my Kirby fanon universe. the fanon lore that ive made for Kirby is probably the most headcanons ive ever had for anything (as Kirby was my first fandom), so this is like the beginning of a legend to me.

finally, i signed up for Fandom Wikia with the goal to share my stories with the internet. i began my migration all over the place, going from Fandom Wikia to Wattpad, then to Tumblr, then to Comic Studio, then BACK to Tumblr... its been a crazy ride. but no matter where i went i made sure to share my stories.

now, im trying to improve on my writing skills. upon rereading my older fanfics, i realized they were... well, not the best. currently, my writing to-do list is to finish the Daily Life section of my Danganronpa multiverse crossover fic, begin writing an idea for an owlbit fic, and to begin the rewrites of 2 of my older works. its a little daunting of a task, but im sure that i can do it! besides, my fanfics arent particularly popular (i only have 27 followers on wattpad rip) so i dont have to worry too much about people begging me to get on w/ the chapters heh

anyway, thank you for the ask! have a duck as an apology gift for having to read that big wall of text :D

he got the. hat

[heartcal]

rejected ; c.h. (part ii)

summary: he was just a silly little crush that you had in high school, and you were sure that after graduating, you would be over it. so why is your heart beating fast as he sits next to you in your first class on your first day of college? pairing: calum hood x reader (gender-neutral) genre: fluff, angst, classmates to friends to lovers au, college au warnings: i don't think so? maybe some self-pity, talks of confidence and lack thereof, uhhh this is maybe all over the place ?? and some angst :^) word count: about 3.1k words

a/n: this took way too long to post :^( multiple factors prevented me from posting, but hey, it's here now :^) i am not fond of this part because i struggled writing this and had to delete and rewrite multiple times, but that usually happens at the beginning of a fic anyway :^)) also, if i made any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me!

intro | i | ii (current) | iii | iv | v | ... more coming soon!

series masterlist | my masterlist!

PART TWO.

You were sure you had the upper hand. You befriend Calum, a surprise to you and Jessie, but regardless, he considers you a friend.

You were sure you had the upper hand, that is until Jessie proposes another challenge for you to complete.

“You’re joking,” you state, staring at your bedroom wall that was littered with photographs.

“I’m dead serious,” Jessie’s voice is firm, a hint of playfulness threaded through their words, “all I’m telling you to do is to just ask Calum to hang out.”

You had texted Calum after your math quiz, thanking him again for the help and telling him that you passed. When Mr. Wills handed back your paper with the grade (and some tips to keep in mind for the real test in a few weeks) on your way out of the class, you were excited to let Calum know you passed. You didn’t register that you were actually texting him; it didn’t even cross your mind until he responded no more than ten minutes later.

Congrats!!! We should celebrate lol (2:33pm)

When you told Jessie, they were more focused on you texting Calum than you getting a good grade on a calculus quiz.

“Jess,” you begin, a chuckle escaping before you can stop it, “I don’t think I can do that--.”

“Nope!” Jess cuts you off, “None of that, not when he said that you two should celebrate it.”

“I’m pretty sure he meant that in a friendly, joking way.”

You know there’s no way around Jessie when they’re adamant. When they have their sight set on something, they won’t hesitate to go for it regardless of any challenges. Jessie is the type of friend who not only goes for something they want but encourages others to do the same, whether or not the outcome will be good (which has caused some trouble, in tenth grade mostly).

“Interpret that how you want to,” Jessie continues, confidence seeping into their words to get through to you, “but I believe it could be more than friendly.”

And you won’t admit it, but hearing that makes your heart soar. You won’t give Jessie the idea that your crush on Calum might be more. You don’t want them to know.

¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸

The monotone voice of your biology professor droned on, the constant tapping of your keyboard sounded better than her rant of the school’s lack of funding.

It’s been a few days since your call with Jessie, and while they gave you the confidence to go up to Calum and ask him to hang out, you could not bring yourself to do so.

You’ve seen how bold Jessie was and you wanted that as well. To have the confidence to walk up to someone, whether the intention is good or bad, is something you have always wanted to have. Confidence was something you wanted to pick up before college (or, at the latest, before the end of your first quarter). You know it’s not easy to just gain the confidence, rather it is built over time with strength.

The sound of a call bell from the front broke your trance, your professor standing tall behind her desk as she signaled the end of class (the bell, you recall from the first day of class, was a gift from her mother after she quit her concierge job to become a science teacher, and it was the start of oversharing stories in the class).

She reminded students of the essay due by the end of the week as they walked out, mumbles of confirmations and promises heard as they leave the class.

Once outside the class, your eyes drift to a group of students crowding the doors. They sounded excited about something and were preventing anyone from passing through.

“What’s going on?” You hear someone in front of you ask the person next to them.

“Someone’s getting confessed to,” they reply, standing on their tip-toes briefly to look over the heads of the other students.

“Why’s everyone excited, though?”

The other person shrugs, “Not sure, but I think it’s because it’s not going too well.”

Copying the people in front of you, you stand on your toes, lifting your chin to get a better look at the scene outside the door.

You can’t see the girl properly, but the one she’s standing in front of is no one other than Calum.

It wasn’t an unusual thing for Calum to be confessed to. He’s had plenty of confessions given to him, but in comparison to the drama unfolding outside, this was different. In high school, he was quick, but gentle, to let down the other party. It didn’t draw big crowds as it does now (for some reason, you don’t know) but when word got around he was still greatly admired, even if the other party ended up crying.

But right now? He’s just staring wide-eyed at the girl in front of him, eyes occasionally darting around before bouncing back to hers.

You turn around, looking for another exit so you don’t miss your next class, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

Regarding confidence, that’s what you wanted to do: what that girl was doing to Calum. You wanted the confidence to confess to him, whether it was in public or in private. The scene was making a mockery of you; a reminder that you did not have that level of confidence, and you have a long way to go to get to that part.

Later in the day, sitting in the library with a few books stacked to your left side as a notebook lay open in front of you, your study session was interrupted by the boy who had not left your mind since you saw him being confessed to.

“Hey,” he rushes out, whispering as he takes the empty seat next to you. His notebook and textbook plop onto the table, unintentionally, as he offers the nearby students an apologetic smile.

“Hi,” you respond before quickly looking back at the jumble of words in front of you.

You didn’t need to study, but you did need to get Calum off your mind. His sudden arrival throws the past forty-five minutes of needless studying out the window and welcomes curiosity.

“I need a favor—or, really, just some advice,” he continues to whisper, eyes gauging to get a reaction from you, to let him know you’re listening and willing to help.

You lift your head, making eye contact with a mixture of curiosity and confusion written on your features.

Calum has friends on campus he could talk to for advice, even his friends in other colleges or around town, so him going to you for advice was possibly a step forward in your newfound friendship.

“I’m listening,” you respond, also whispering.

He takes a few moments to gather his thoughts, leaning back in his chair as he nervously drums his fingers on his lap.

He sighs, leaning forward with a whisper, “How do you reject someone?”

What?

You blinked a couple of times as you try to register his question.

As if he can read your mind, he shifts in his seat before continuing, “If someone told you they liked you, but you didn’t like them, what’s the best way to let them down?”

“I—uh,” you stutter, still trying to register what he was asking. It’s not like he hasn’t turned anyone down before; you’ve seen him reject potential partners back in high school. “I guess nicely?”

You feel your heart jump, happiness creeping in knowing that he’s referring to what happened earlier in the day. He doesn’t like her, which means there’s still a chance for you.

Calum sighs again, not frustrated with your answer but frustrated with himself. He knows he sounds ridiculous, especially since they went to the same school and no doubt she saw him turn people down. But he had his friends nearby, he had his reasons as well, but now his friends are spread out, and if he uses his past reasoning to justify the rejections he would get criticized (mostly by his friends since they think he should be moving on).

“Why do you ask?” you’re still whispering, not wanting to gain the attention of the stern librarian a few yards away.

You didn’t want him to know you saw the confession. If he were to bring it up, maybe you’d mention you did see it, but even then it would make you feel a bit stupid since you didn’t bring it up earlier.

“A classmate of mine told me she liked me this morning,” he murmurs, light pink dusting his cheeks as he recalls the memory of being confessed to in the courtyard. He did feel slightly embarrassed, and it shows as he brings his hands up to cover his cheeks.

You give him a look to continue, trying to find out the reason why he wants to reject the girl.

He hesitates, and you can see the apprehension as he tries to find the words again, “I’m not interested in dating anyone at the moment.”

There it is.

A confirmation.

Calum is not interested in a relationship, which means you don’t really need to go and grab that confidence you need to confess to him right?

But, instead of feeling relief at that fact, there’s a pain in your heart, and you feel a buzz in your head as it tries to work around the new information it was just given.

You try not to show the conflict in your head on your face or in your tone, your eyes glancing around the mess in front of you before meeting Calum’s eyes again, “The best thing for you to do is to tell her that you appreciate how she feels, but be blunt and say that you’re not looking for a relationship.”

Calum lets your words sit, and when he thinks he has the perfect way to let the girl down gently, he offers a smile, “Thanks, I’ll tell her before the day ends.”

You only nod, eyes drifting back to your book to continue distracting yourself from him.

¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸

Calum stayed with you for an hour after that, few words being exchanged as he allowed you to study. He didn’t study with you, rather he watched you take notes, chuckling softly to himself when he saw you scratch out words multiple times in a row (which you found embarrassing, but it was nice to know you made him laugh).

You contemplated giving Jessie your weekly Calum update. You don’t want to burden your friend with your constant complaints about how you can’t bring yourself to ask Calum to hang out or whine about how you had the opportunity to do something, but something else got in the way. And you knew if you told them about what you saw happening in the courtyard, you would never hear the end of it. Jessie would compare you to the girl, about how she had the smart idea to go for something she wanted, while you sat idle on the side and can only wish for things to come your way.

You wanted to vent, but you also didn’t want it to turn into a scolding session. So, during your call with them, you somehow successfully avoided any talk about him.

Jessie had their own rant about a cute classmate, and luckily it was long enough to take over the allotted time the two of you agreed on (so you can complete your schoolwork at a decent time).

Laying in bed, you thought back to Calum’s words.

He’s not looking for a relationship. On one hand, you’re happy because that means he’s not actively searching for anyone; but that means that if you were to confess, he’d use your advice against you.

You’re not upset about him doing that, though. You don’t know the true details as to why he’s sworn off relationships, and he won’t just tell you if you ask. He has his reasons, as it’s his right.

Your phone dings, breaking you from your thoughts, and you’re thankful for it.

It had to have been Jessie texting you, probably forgetting something they wanted to mention during the call. Mindlessly you opened your texts, but instead of seeing Jessie’s rambling, you saw a text from Calum.

I know it’s late but thanks for the advice, I was able to tell her just before she left :) (11:21pm)

A smile breaks out, an airy giggle leaving afterward as you type your response.

no problem!! think of it as a thank you for helping me pass the quiz lol (11:22pm)

You put your phone back on your nightstand, thinking that it’s the end of the conversation. When it dings again, the smile forms yet again.

Speaking of which, I still think we should celebrate (11:22pm)

You swear your heart stops beating, and you contemplate responding, wondering how you should respond to him, but another text comes in.

When are you free to hang out? (11:23pm)

Oh, how you wished Jessie was here to guide you. They’d take the phone from your hands, type the reply themselves, and have you deal with the consequences in the end (though it’s more good than consequential in this case).

Instead, you muster up the courage yourself and reply.

Tomorrow after classes? Maybe around 4:30 or something (11:24pm)

There’s a buzz in your head. You feel airy, waiting for his response, a confirmation.

A ding from your phone makes you jump, warmth flooding your cheeks as you smile, reading his response.

Sounds good to me :) 4:30 at the library then? (11:25pm)

The smile doesn’t fade as you type your response, sending it, and locking your phone.

It’s not a date, you remind yourself, don’t dig too deep into it.

¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸

The buzz from last night remained throughout the day. Your classes went by faster than you thought they would, and by the time your last class ended, you were in the air.

It was funny. In high school, you so badly wanted to have Calum in your life, friend or more. When you had him in your classes, you knew it was going to be a good year. The class would feel welcoming, comforting almost, and everyone else would feel it. It’s the same feeling in college now, but the downside is where your feelings lie. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you’re worried that your feelings may have grown, and possibly, may be more intense than they were in high school.

You don’t want to scare him away. You’re now just becoming his friend, and in a new school it’s hard to do. And besides, he’s already said he’s not looking for a relationship, so why try to go for it at this point in time?

Shaking the bad thoughts out of your head, you take a deep breath before opening the door to the library, your other hand tightening on the strap of your bag.

You walked to your usual table since it was empty and took a seat.

You didn’t have anything you needed to work on, immediately at least, so instead, you played around on your phone while you wait for Calum to arrive.

You still haven’t told Jessie what was happening. At this point, it felt like you were hiding something important from them, and it made you feel guilty. Jess had been pushing you, wanting you to get out of your comfort zone for so long and get Calum to acknowledge you as more than a classmate. They have wanted that ever since they found out about your crush. Now that you successfully landed a hang out with Calum, it was only right to tell Jessie.

jess :) guess what :) im currently about to hang out with cal :D (4:35pm)

It was almost instant, Jessie’s response coming only seconds after seeing that she read your message.

WAIT WAIT EXPLAIN (4:35pm)

WHEN DID YOU ASK?? DID YOU ASK? I NEED ANSWERS (4:36pm)

You can’t help the small giggle that escapes, biting your lip to keep any other sounds from coming out.

He needed advice on something yesterday (i’ll tell you about that later) and then that night he thanked me for it, then said that we still need to celebrate lol (4:37pm)

You can already picture Jessie in her dorm, wanting to fight you for withholding the information, and you know you’re in for an earful when they’re able to call you.

See!!! I told you he meant it!! (4:38pm)

A smile, and the familiar warmth in your cheeks return.

Not wanting to excite yourself any further, you put your phone away and take out a random notebook to doodle in.

Ten minutes pass, you don’t worry. Maybe he’s stuck in foot traffic?

Twenty minutes pass, you’re only a little worried. Maybe he’s stuck in class?

Thirty minutes turned into forty, then into an hour.

It’s past 5:30pm now, and all the excitement, the butterflies, the warmth – all gone. Instead, in its place, is embarrassment, sadness, and slight anger. You feel cold sitting in the library.

Wanting to escape, you pack your stuff hastily and briskly walk out of the library, making a direct beeline for the parking lot where your car was.

Sure, maybe you got your hopes up. It wasn’t a date, just a couple of friends meeting to spend time with each other, get to know one another. But you were stood up—no text or anything to let you know he wasn’t coming—and you were starting to think that you were right in the beginning.

Maybe Calum didn’t mean it when he said he wanted to “celebrate.” Maybe he didn’t want to spend time with you.

What was the cherry on top was when the night came to an end, and there was still no text from him.

Jessie listened to your venting, and they wished they had chosen an in-state campus close to you so they can comfort you.

Jessie felt bad. They knew this was something you weren’t used to, that you barely hung out with anyone outside your usual friend group. They felt bad for pushing you to step out and venture around for new friends, and when you thought you finally found one (the same one from high school you had feelings for), they didn’t want you to chicken out. Jessie was only doing what they thought was best for you.

After your rant, and your strong attempts to hold back any tears, Jessie demanded that you get some rest. And once you hung up, they went to their contacts to contact an old friend of theirs.

They didn’t want to tell you, however, that according to this friend, Calum was actively on Instagram late into the night.

¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸

taglist: @rexorangecouny

[komoreangel]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader

scenario: you met when you were both very young, and since the day he left you behind he still feels an undying fear for what sight would await him if he dared to return home.

or…

thantophobia - the fear of losing a loved one. but he had made it perfectly clear that you did not fall under that category when he left you and all of your promises behind.

request: okok my first idea was: scaramouche childhood friends to enemies to lovers. take with that what you will <3

a/n: hi anon ty so very much for the request we all know i love scara <33 but i did tweak it a bit basically its childhood friends to enemies to scara loves reader but reader isnt convinced (with a hint of 'ive always loved you' thrown in)

side note: this is a rewrite of an excerpt i wrote for a scara x oc, in which the oc was female (the same is said here but i will avoid using pronouns) and adopted into the kamisato clan as a princess (minor inazuma spoilers). the same situation is stated here. also i am 1000% willing to write more of this (includes my personal headcanons for scaramouche’s backstory, not canon!!)

growing up, you had always had poor health

your mother worried for you a lot when you were younger

she didn’t like to let you go outside much either

you spent most of your time in the palace walls while she worked, frequently being taken to see the royal physician

you would sit outside the door while your parents talked with the doctors about your “condition”

you weren’t even that sick

just weak for your age

that was when you first met him

he was training to be a soldier along his father

you were like a ghost in his eyes

sitting in the hall in the middle of the night

knees pushed to your chest, snoozing in the soft light of the moon

he was naturally a curious boy, so he kneeled in front of you and poked your shoulder

“hello?”

you startled awake

“wah-!” he fell back at your sudden movement

“who are you?” you asked

your voice was soft, and gentle, like a midnight breeze

“i’m [redacted].”

you remember what he told you, but some part of that memory had been erased from your mind…you wonder to this day what he could have said.

“my name is y/n.”

he thought it was a pretty name, although he wasn’t going to say anything

the two of you sat in the moonlight, talking quietly amongst yourselves

“why are you sitting outside the physician’s office?” he asked you

“my mama says i’m sick, and that going outside will make it worse.”

“oh. are you going to get better soon?”

you smile at him, a gesture that makes his chest tighten, although he can’t fathom why.

“yeah! she says that if we can afford to get some medicine from liyue, i’ll be all better! then i can start making friends!”

he slightly smiles

“can i be your friend, [redacted]?”

you had even said the name yourself once. why couldn’t you remember it?

his expression shifts to a slightly surprised look

“you…want to be my friend?”

he was quiet even then, and his silent expression would grow to an angry one over time

“yeah! you’re interesting, and you’re one of the few people who bothers to talk to me.”

he doesn’t speak for a while.

“you can say no if you want to.” you say to him.

“okay. i’ll be your friend.”

it’s a short response, but the bright grin that lights up your face makes it worth the wait

“yay! i can’t wait till i’m better so we can hang out more!”

you two talked in that hallway a lot

meeting after dark, talking about anything in the world

when you were about six, the worst of your illness hit you

the doctors didn’t even know what was wrong, and there were nights when he would sit outside the physician’s office alone at night, hoping, praying that the sun would shine on a world that still had you in it

you would collapse from exhaustion at the slightest overexertion

his father always told him he had to be careful with you, not only were you shorter than him, but you were also very fragile

those hours spent sitting in the hallway alone, he got to do a lot of thinking

he wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how

then, there was a sudden burst of hope

you were going to liyue with your parents

you would get the help you needed

he was happy for you, even if it meant you would have to spend time away from him

and then there was the terrible news

the ship had gone missing

you had too

he couldn’t sleep for days on end

his father was worried too

when he saw you again, you found yourself shuddering on the shores of inazuma

he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, as if his strength alone could undo everything that had happened

it was one of the few times he showed affection in public

he rushed you to the healer again

and this time there was no hoping

there was no praying

there was just the pit in his stomach, the fear that coursed through his veins and fueled his blood

every second felt like a decade, it was a moment in which you weren’t perfectly healthy and safe

the townspeople began to spread rumors, as people do

the guard’s son who was lovesick with worry for the sickly orphan girl

what a pity, no?

he wanted to shut them up. he wished he had the power to shut them up.

when even his father had to drag him away from the pharmacy, he didn’t talk to anyone for a very long time.

this was around the time he grew sour and snappy

his simply quiet demeanor developed into a scowl that constantly graced his face

he only smiled the day you were released from the physicians.

you weren’t fully healed. but you felt better than you ever had in your life.

his father took you in without a second thought, and he was just happy to have you with him.

“i’m better, scara.” you said to him, a happy smile on your face

“i was wondering when you’d hurry up and get well.”

you were a bit troubled by his attitude, but no less, you were happy to see your friend again.

it went like that for a long time.

he was rude, but you didn’t care because you knew what he was like underneath.

some nights he would sneak into your room and talk to you.

he told you he was just bored and felt like annoying you.

but his real reason was to make sure you were still breathing.

he always worried about you

so the day you received your vision, he felt a lot of relief

surely this meant that you could protect yourself. you were safe.

then the worst of all things happened.

his fathers death.

the day he felt like his world was ripped from underneath his feet.

almost immediately, the electro archon, baal, herself, intervened, and declared that you were to be adopted into the kamisato clan.

why you? why couldn’t he keep you with him? he was old enough to be able to take care of both of you

baal didn’t like his questioning. she said she knew what was best for you.

it was strange. because in the days he spent with you after, although not many, you didn’t seem sick at all.

for the first time, you seemed perfectly healthy.

he was glad for that…but he wasn’t happy. you could see that easily.

you knew this wasn’t the right thing for him

he stuck around for a year. you suppose you’re lucky he even stayed that long. you were pretty much his only reason.

sure he found friends in ayaka and kazuha…but he was unhappy.

he knew there was no point in staying, so he thought it was time he took his leave.

he approached you one day, as the sun began to set

you were worried for him, as he had been very angry towards baal and the emperor lately.

“scara, is there something you want to talk about?”

you watch as he stands before you

he blurts out, “run away with me.”

you’re taken aback almost immediately.

“what?”

he repeats his statement

“i’m going to flee from inazuma. come with me.”

“scara..”

his expression, as it does often these days, turns stern and serious.

“i’m not going to ask you again. come with me, y/n.”

you’re tired of him ordering you around.

“you know i can’t. i have duties here. i can’t just betray my country for you.”

“you know baal wants me gone. she’s going to kill me if i stay. she might do the same to you.”

you scoff at his words. “she won’t harm me or you. you’re being dramatic.”

he spits out his next words, laced with venom. “baal killed my father. i hate her and so should you.”

“scara.”

“it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about him just because you’re royalty now.”

“scara.”

“don’t call me scara. come with me if you ever cared at all.”

“scaramouche!”

he goes quiet

“don’t go. please.”

he frowns

“you know i can’t do that.”

you want to try and make him stay

but he won’t. you know nothing you say will convince him. he won’t let himself be convinced by you, even if that’s what he truly wants.

you inhale

“get out of here.”

“what?”

“go. leave. and take this with you.”

you throw the necklace you were wearing at him, and he catches it. baal had exiled him, it was true, but he couldn’t expect you to throw everything away for him.

“wait, what are you-“

as the two of you stare each other down, you hear ayaka’s voice coming from the courtyard, calling for you.

she has a guard with her, as the emperor assigns every royal family member. you managed to ditch yours early on.

“the guard is gonna get you if you stay, scara. get out of here, now.”

he scoffs

“whatever. i can’t believe i thought you were worth risking my life.”

he pockets the necklace and steps over the wall, and he’s gone.

nine years of friendship and he threw you away like you were nothing

in truth, the minute he was out of sight, he threw down his bag in anger

he turned around and you weren’t there anymore

you gave up on him

so if he hated you, you deserved it

it might be worth a hefty price anyway.

at least that’s what he told himself

(he never stopped missing you. almost as soon as he joined the fatui, he requested an audience with the tsaritsa to ask her how you were doing.)

“a simple agent, asking that much of me? and for a girl? that’s very bold of you.”

upon hearing it was about you, the cryo archon grew very interested. of course she remembered you.

the sickly orphan she gifted a vision to at a very young age.

she told him you were well

what she didn’t tell him was about baal going berserk and massacring thousands of her people.

upon receiving the news, he felt that chill upon him once again

the fear that fell onto his shoulders, weighing him down, too scared to ask for more information. he didn’t want to be told you were gone.

“the royal family was not harmed.”

he felt his muscles relax as he calmed down.

he quickly reassumed an upright stance.

he was the sixth harbinger. he has no weaknesses. he cares for nothing and no one.

but beneath his mask, the fire of his love for you burned brighter than the flame of any pyro vision.

a/n: ok so i really enjoyed this….scara banner when. i did tweak it a bit but i have other things written for this scenario in which scara returns to inazuma and reader is (deservingly) PISSED with him :) lmk if you want me to post those !

[confessions-but-fnaf]

Ok something a little different for this post!! I’ve been thinking about the daycare a lot so I thought it would be nice to share some of my headcanons while I have a moment!!

Im working on a complete rewrite of my fnaf au so some things listed here may not be kept for my au in future when I talk about it but you guys are more than happy to take some of these ideas for yourself!!

cw/tw for mentions of period blood in one so incase anyone doesn’t like talks about periods n such this is your sign to just be a bit cautious if you decide to proceed. I’ll colour the headcanon talking about it in italics and bolded like this so that it’s easily spotable and avoidable!

• In my au, Ive made it so that Sun and Moon are actually named after their candies and their full names are Mr Sunrise Day and Mr Moondrop Night

• Sun and Moon are commonly nicknamed Rise and Droppy by the staff and not long after opening, the kids caught on and so anywhere that isn’t promotional material for the two uses the names Rise and Droppy

• They’re actually two separate animatronics, the company backstory for them being that they’re best friends with Droppy having a love for astrology and Rise loving the beach hence their names and the theme of the daycare. The reason why the switch happens in game is because Rise is scared of the dark and refuses to be active during the night despite having a love for the stars like Droppy so when the lights go out, Droppy takes over so that Rise doesn’t have to be scared whilst looking after the kids after dark

• Droppy taking over for Rise actually happens every now and again when the power goes out. He ends up needing to reactivate the power via the generators which are normally hidden during the day but are accessible when power shuts down. How that works is that the generators are inside the play structures but shut off via extra walls in the play structures so that the kids can’t access them. When the power goes out, since those extra walls are connected to the power, they lift up which gives Droppy access to the generators

• Despite how some may think, Droppy is actually very hyperactive with the kids and loves interacting with them. A lot of the older kids find refuge in him, it getting to the point where if a kid gets their period for the first time, they’ll most likely ask for Droppy to help them out. Droppy is good friends with Roxanne and Chica so he knows more than what he and Rise were programmed with and swiftly takes the kid to a staff bathroom where they have showers if the kid wants to clean up. The entire time Droppy will be standing by the curtain guarding it so no one can walk in on the kid while Droppy tells a security guard to get some clothes for the kid from Glamrock Gifts. The price for the clothes isn’t charged to the kid and sometimes, if their shoes are in really bad condition, when the kid is comfortable to go back outside again, Droppy will take them to Glamrock Gifts so they can pick out a new pair of shoes. Droppy will also let them choose one of three things for being so brave getting through all they’ve been through! Their options are a plush of their choice, a ton of tickets from the arcade to use on redeeming prizes or a free song request for to use at DJ Music Man’s booth! He does the same for anyone who has already had their first period but had it come unexpectedly during their visit due to the ages allowed in the daycare being 0-13, a section for the older teens (14-19) being next to the section we go in game.

• To get to the older teens section, called Pirate Club to fit with the theme of Kids Cove, all you need to do is to walk into the main area where the gold Rise and Droppy statue is, go right so you’re heading towards where you sign in, and a double door will be there behind the stands the workers use to sign in kids. To be allowed inside, your guest profile will be checked by Staff to make sure you’re old enough to be inside. If you’re there for a birthday party and you’re 13 turning 14, even if the party is a few days before your birthday, staff will still let you in because you’re close enough to being 14 that you can get in.

• Along with their being the two areas of the daycare and the little shop, in both sections there’s a cafe. In the younger kids area, the cafe serves mainly coffees and treats for the parents/careers to have but there’s also a few sweets and drinks along with Sunrise candies and Moondrop lollies if a guardian wants to buy their kid a drink and snack as well. In the older teens area, it’s like a Starbucks mixed with a candy shop and an ice-cream parlour. There’s iced coffees, hot coffees, candies, ice creams, sherbet- anything you want, they probably have it. Due to the kids being older and being able to make decisions of their own whilst being responsible, all the drinks come in limited edition cups exclusive to Pirate Club. You get a choice of your cup being ceramic or hard plastic, and if you want a different kind of drink to the one you got earlier, all you have to do is hand over your collectable cup and your order and they’ll clean your cup and serve you your drink in it. It saves the staff handing out more cups, and saves you carrying like 6 around at the end of the day. If you want to collect them all though to bring back at a later date, that’s also an option! The Pirate Club’s cafe, also known as Davey Jone’s Beach Locker, is extremely flexible since the staff are attendants just like Rise and Droppy called Shell and Ocean!

• Shell and Ocean were twins made to run Pirate Club so that the kids who wanted to interact with animatronics could do so with two who were especially designed for their age group and area. Shell and Ocean, unlike Rise and Droppy, are actually very in tune with the latest news about celebrities, video games, politics and a variety of other topics due to the age group of Pirate Club being much older than the daycare. Shell and Ocean are programmed to help the kids with study if they need it, lots of uni students actually being allowed to use Pirate Club’s study area for their own study time if needed via a special pass.

• Pirate Club, as mentioned previously has a study area and cafe. It also has a play room just smaller than the daycare’s and a dimly lit room made up for pillows, blankets and plushies called The Pillowfort made for anyone who’s nervous or having a panic attack or anyone who just needs a moment alone or in silence to be able to relax properly without a parent hassling them to hurry up or being in a loud environment. It’s a nice area to break away from the loud and flashy environment of the pizzaplex and is also used by animatronics and staff as well!! The room is quite big, so it’s a way to wrap yourself up in your own little nook or cranny and have some time to yourself. Sometimes upon request, you can even have Shell or Ocean hold you/cuddle you while you’re in there if you want a friend nearby for some comfort.

And that’s it for now!! I’ll come back with some drawings of Rise, Droppy, Shell and Ocean once I get my computer back tomorrow so you guys can see how they look!! Also, to those of you with asks still in the inbox I promise I haven’t forgotten about you!! I just wanted to share some of my own headcanons in a separate post- your submissions will be answered soon!! Thank you for all your patience 💜

I hope you guys enjoyed these headcanons!!

- mod Bon 💜

[lady-literature]

Death

Ive been wanting to rewrite this thing for a while now so here you guys go! credit to @bunathebunny for the original idea | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

Marinette dies during the final battle with Hawkmoth.

Paris watches her fall, watches her take Hawkmoth with her, watches a child make a sacrifice she never should have had to make. Paris mourns and lays her to rest and sings her praises like she was the hero instead of the tragedy itself.

Her parents are too heartbroken to stay in the city their daughter loved (too furious to stay in the city that killed her) and so they run to Gotham.

Six months pass, and when Marinette wakes up in her grave, clawing her way out of the dirt and wood until she is bloody and staggering, there is no one waiting for her at home.

***

Marinette comes back wrong.

Not that, I think, there’s a way to come back right.

Dying changes you. And dying with the power of Creation thrumming through your veins? With the ancestral magic of a thousand Guardians crackling against your skin? With the history of a lost people stuffed inside your head and naked desperation clawing at your heart and the cries of your best friend echoing in your ears as you fall and-

Marinette comes back wrong.

***

Most of Paris knows she’s there, hidden in the shadows and watching.

It’s hard not to when criminals start turning up beaten and broken, screaming about little girls covered in blood and bruises and spots. When plenty of people have seen her flying across the rooftops or lurking in alleyways that are dark even as the sun shines bright.

They do not call her Ladybug anymore, for she is no longer their hero.

Marinette doesn’t mind. She is an afterimage, a ghost story, a thing that was once a girl but is now wrong wrong wrong.

Now they call her the Girl in Red.

They say she is benevolent. They say she is vicious.

I suppose it depends on who you ask.

(I suppose it depends on what they were doing when they met her.)

***

She has wandered the streets of Paris for many years when she comes across a man who is like her.

She meets him quite by accident, wandering through the shadows of her alleyways. They lock eyes—acid green clashing against inhuman blue, both glowing too bright in the shadows to be natural—and the pair of them freeze.

Well, Marinette freezes as much as she ever does, which isn’t much. The edges of her waver and mold to the shadows she’s in and the longer she stands there, the more she flickers.

Bloody then not then back again. Like she doesn’t quite know who to be.

Marinette looks up at him, and in her battered and broken mind, she cannot decide what he is.

He is a man who smells like death but is not dead. A man who is lost, wandering the world without a home just as she is. A man who is trouble, the same kind she bares her too sharp teeth at and hunts where it’s too dark for others to see.

(But isn’t she herself trouble? Hasn’t she heard the whispers and rumors people spin of her? Hasn’t she, herself, left the bodies of people too broken to ever fix lying in alleyways without a second thought?)

(People are much more fragile than she remembers.)

***

Jason looks down at her, this impossible child who is pale and terrifying and so indescribably other, and something in him cracks.

She is familiar, but not in the sense that they’ve ever met before.

No- she is familiar because under all the blood and bruises and demonic bullshit, he can still see the little girl hidden behind it. He can still recognize the look of a child dragged into a war that was not theirs because, once upon a time, that kid was him.

(Jason looks down at her and, in her place, he sees a little boy in red and green and gold.)

It’s been a long time since Jason was a hero—a lifetime ago, really—but he can’t ignore a kid in need. Even if she is creepy and kinda see-through and not quite human.

Which is good, he supposes, considering that after their first meeting, the little runt never leaves his side.

***

Jason leaves Paris two weeks later and when he goes, Marinette goes with him.

Paris is her city, is the only city she’s ever known… but it’s also the city that got her killed. She remembers little about Before, but she hadn’t needed to. The whispers people make behind their hands tell her more than enough.

Marinette has stayed in Paris for long enough, she thinks, bound by a duty she no longer needs to uphold.

Big Brother tells her of a different city, one plagued by madmen that lives in endless night. So many dark streets and people in need of saving, so much trouble teeming beneath the surface, just waiting for her to snap and snarl at it.

(Big Brother also tells her of the Bat that watches over the city. He speaks his name with scorn and an aching sort of longing that makes Marinette think of lost children and homes where no one is waiting for you.)

Jason grinds the whole of Gotham’s underground beneath his heel and Marinette stands at his side, a vicious shadow that people only ever get the chance to underestimate once.

Together, they are the Red Siblings, and together, they are Gotham’s worst nightmare.

[corkisms]

Dude I am super excited to read about Eldritch Duke and Eldritch Bain’s backstory!!

im soo mad i had such a comprehensive answer to this post and tumblr ATE IT so now i gotta rewrite the whole thing from memory. hell on earth :[

alright i CANNOT take credit for eldritch bain thats @des-paa-cee-toeee BABYY!!! eldritch duke came about on a whim before i knew abt despaa’s take on eldritch bain but it was soooo fun learning abt this bain and throwing ideas at the wall (discord dms) to see what stuck (exploded in the microwave). i cant speak to bain's origins bc im still learning them myself but ive got some eldritch duke facts down. readmore placed below to contain the brainspill ^_^ (and it really is one hell of a brainspill like it got way longer than i intended so sorry in advance😭)

right so dukes a university student in the late 60s/early 70s(?)

hes taking part in an archaeology project with one of his classmates in a forest near his uni (studying bone fragments, arrowheads, just collecting random samples) and keeping audio logs of the whole project

his classmate strays too far and messes around in a bunch of forestbeings' turf

the beings retaliate by possessing/driving the classmate mad

classmate offs duke via rock crimes (fly high babe) and duke gets to spend some time getting acquainted with the spirits in the trees

one of the forestbeings decides that that was kinda fucked up in hindsight and takes pity on duke, searing life and consciousness back into his broken body and resurrecting him from the mud as a nothuman trapped in a mostly mortal vessel (you work with what ya got)

this process might take a while but idk if itll make up the 20 yr gap in his lifespan yet (give that hes 20ish in the 70s and shows up in pd2 in 2017 as a 50 yr old and not a 70 yr old)

i just think hes neat!

tbh idk how i actually feel abt writing this duke au given that i think im also writing some other stuff rn but i looove gnawing on it when im spaced out during class its like my screensaver. i actually started a little smthg as a sort of taste-test for this au where its a police report on the case of duke's initial disappearance in the 70s, documenting the weird facts from an in-universe after-the-fact pov (i am such a sucker for dramatic irony its not funny) and working through the story in the form of aforementioned audio logs. pasting the scraps below

~

Friends initially report 20-year-old August Lindenhurst missing on August 18th, 1968.

Over summer break, Lindenhurst had been taking part in a month-long personal project proposed by 19-year-old Gillian 'Gill' Dorsey, both students at Dennington University. Classmates became concerned when the project's allotted time period ended and Lindenhurst had still not returned to campus. He and Dorsey were last seen entering the forest behind the main building (see map in addendum 2A) with bags one month prior. Investigators organized search teams, which found their equipment still intact in a makeshift bell tent approximately 1.8 miles from campus, and CSI later noted that the project seemed largely archaeological in nature. Around the same time the tent was discovered, a welfare check conducted on Dorsey's dorm discovered her partially decomposed body still in bed (Dorsey case filed separately, though it shares many unusual circumstances with this one).

CSI recovered a collection of microtapes from the tent in the forest, dated throughout the month as audio logs leading up to Lindenhurst's disappearance. Detective Greene was able to transcribe a majority of the logs’ content despite questionable integrity following recent storms. Following analysis of the tapes, the Lindenhurst case was changed from missing persons to homicide. Transcripts deemed relevant to the case are attached below (transcripts for the rest of the tapes available in addendum 2F).

~

and then the transcript of the first tape starts! from there the rest of the story plays out over multiple tapes as duke n his classmate (using gill dorsey as a placeholder name for no reason in particular) pick through tiny buried oddities over the course of about a month. all the while we see signs that theres Something In These Woods thrown in (discussing strange dreams in passing, unidentified voices heard on tape, odd changes in behavior seen in casual conversation, etc) leading up to the discovery of The Final Tape later on in the case, recorded on the day the project was supposed to end 

~

The original recorder was recovered in a clearing approx. 600 feet from the tent. Clear signs of a fight present in surroundings (see addendum 3A-3G). Blood at the scene matched with Lindenhurst. The recorder still contained the most recent (presumably final) microtape inside. Det. Greene reassigned for transcription.

~

and then we get into the nitty gritty of the day of the attack. the report basically concludes with “well that was fucked up” given that lindenhurst’s killer classmate is also dead under mysterious circumstances (found in bed with their mouth and lungs all full of dirt, more thoughts on that but this post is more than long enough rn) so theres kinda. no one to prosecute. the story itself ends with the whole case file being completely wiped by bain, revealing that we were just reading the report along with him the entire time as part of a background check on duke. hes troubled by the implications to say the least, like sorry man you found more than you bargained for in this funky crime grandpa!! the whole ‘coming back nothuman’ thing isnt super covered in this version of the story bc it is still just a police report and obvs cant have ALL the details but that does still happen

thoughts n suggestions n corrections welcome i love having thoughts and making words i love it to bloody pieces. i love kneading ideas in my brain like dough. also ty for reading this far mwah 😭 😭 😭