Red Ink (Yandere Splatoon/Coroika x Reader)

don't throw me away

Three's pained grunts were a pitiful noise. He knew how pathetic he sounded. He knew all too well what a terrible position he was in. But he didn't give up.

He tried to reach for the Hero Shot that had been thrown across his bedroom, abandoned in the corner. He stretched his arm as far as it would go, baring his teeth and hissing when he accidentally came into contact with a puddle of foreign ink. He did his best to stride through the pain and use what little strength he had to retrieve his weapon, but it was impossible.

Impossible, as he was pinned down under Eight's heel.

Eight loomed over his weakened body with an Octo Shot to his head and a heavy boot pressing right on top of his heart. The expression on his face was colder than ice. All Three could think were ways to fucking kill him once and for all. Topple that shelf behind him over and crush him to death, shoot his face off, or drown him in the bathtub as he did with that bitchy neighbor.

His back ached against the hard floorboards, the pain causing him to groan out. He struggled against the pressure on his chest, though that only made the pain a thousand times worse. He couldn't breathe. His pounding and fragile heart felt like it was about to shatter. It was barely pieced together to begin with, but you kept it bandaged up with your love.

Except you weren't around to fix him. You were stolen from his safe hold. He couldn't protect you anymore... You couldn't protect him anymore.

Without you, his true weakness was revealed. He was reduced to deplorable coward he secretly was, and Eight obviously wasn't impressed by it. Not that Eight's opinion mattered in the slightest. You were the only one that mattered in this situation. You were the only one who mattered at all. So Three was almost thankful you weren't here. That way you wouldn't witness him like this...

Almost.

A bout of anger caused Three to resort to clawing at Eight's calf, in an attempt to hurl him off and escape. But Three was highly weakened by their previous battle- Shit, he was still feeling the burning sensation of Eight's ink making contact with his skin. His efforts were fruitless.

"You've lost." Eight bluntly pointed out. "Stop resisting. It's better to talk things through than to mindlessly battle."

"Get off! I'll kill you!"

Three kept trying to overthrow Eight, only earning an eye-roll. He ignored the attempts and moved on. "So then, where's Four?"

"Gone, dead, you'll never see him again," Three impulsively spat.

"Hm." Eight applied more pressure on his chest. Three's heart faltered as he gasped for air. Eight muttered, "I never did have much appreciation for liars."

"Oh my gosh! What happened in here?!"

Callie's voice made them snap towards the open doorway. There was a clear view down the hall and in the living room. Callie's hands were clasped over her limp jaw. Marie cautiously examined the scenery, ruined by ink stains and broken/flipped over furniture.

And there you were, trembling and hiding between the two girls.

Three sucked in a sharp breath. A newfound motivation ran through his veins, using a burst of energy to fight against Eight's hold. It nearly made him stumble back, but he was focused just enough to keep him down.

Eight clenched his teeth before calling out. "In here!"

Three felt those thumping, rapidly approaching footsteps from his spot on the ground. Each step fueled his desire to escape even more. He couldn't let you see him like this, not for a moment, not for a second-