#[[i had to look up what a weak constitution meant]]

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

I don't kiss and tell

Little drabbles where creator!reader gets pregnant and the archons get into a witch hunt

Wc: ~600

Sumeru’s specialty tea is delicious, the lightest taste of anise and black tea with an array of spices that you couldn't even begin to pinpoint. The youngest archon besides you is talking your ear off about the origins and constitution of the tea, the exports it has and how it is different from the teas you tasted in Liyue. 

The only thing souring the atmosphere was the bickering and yelling voices from across the table

“Your dirty citizens are libertine enough to attempt to lie besides a god!” The electro archon points her finger at the anemo archon, her nose scrunched and her teeth bared

“Mine?! I doubt anyone would dare to! At most I imagine they wanted to be close friends!”

The tsaritsa rolls her eyes and mutters something along the lines of ‘very close friends it seems’

“You doubt? You don't sound too sure about that. I'm confident nobody from my nation would dare to make advances on them” zhongli blows on his cup and sips on it

“Didn't the trip get behind schedule around sumeru? I remember Neuvillette was stressed because the welcome had to be rearranged by a week” Furina grabs a piece of cake, playing with the cherry on top.

“ah?!” Nahida gasps as she is chatting with you. She taps her chin ”I can't remember a chance they had alone so I would say it's impossible”

“And why did the trip take an extra week? I was never truly sure about that” zhongli asks her 

“Oh, I was dead set on going to Aaru village and having a quick view to the pyramids” you chuckle a bit, seeing how nahida was upset at the accusations.

“Isn't it weird that Miss Furina is here too? Even if we named it archon meeting it's meant more as a head of state so I was expecting the great judge to be seated here” Raiden points that out

“E-eh?!” She gasps as she leans away from the purple piercing gaze “He was just unable to come so he asked me” 

“Isn't that convenient?”

The tsaritsa sighs and stops tapping her fingers on the wood table. Now looking at you she says “I'm sorry if it's too impolite but can't you cut us the chase and tell us who it was?”

You look away, a tiny strained laugh slipping through your teeth “I think I prefer his safety, thanks” 

“No, thank you”

“At the very least what nation is he from?” 

The next months there was special attention paid to particular carvings or newly acquired habits

“Isn't it curious how they are suddenly so in love with grape juice? Didn't your nation have a winemaker who preferred grape juice?” The tsaritsa asks, a stiff smile painted on her face.

“And didn't they also like a seafood soup that also happened to be one of your harbinger's specialties?” venti matches her energy, already fed up with the fourth accusation 

“Don't make me send someone to kick your ass again”

“I doubt a pile of ashes could put up much of a fight” 

“Our grace has been taking longer walks lately, buer, maybe they are trying to get closer to the dendro element” 

“they told me they wanted to feel the breeze better, that might be it, Beel”

“Why do I get dragged into every discussion?!” Venti yelps from the kitchen

“Doctor baizhu told me to keep an eye on them, the pregnancy seems to have made them crave rocks

“Isn't baizhu from Liyue, lord of Geo?” 

“And also ice cubes, tsaritsa. It reminds me, wasn't one of your harbingers also in Liyue at that time to close a deal with the Tianquan?”

“Why does everyone think is someone from my nation did it?!”

“Nation of freedom…”

“The biggest wine and sparkling wine importer…”

“You used your week to go bar hopping..”

“You are a weak and unimposing leader…”

“That part sounded more personal than anything!”

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #self aware genshin impact #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader

[spacexseven]

IK THE ROYAL AU IS MY IDA BUT I WANNA HEAR MORE OF WHAT YOU THINK BECAUSE LIKE NORMALLY I FIND IT EASIER TO THINK OF FURTHER IDEASSSS -🌺

im sorry im going to use this an opportunity to go on about the prince fyodor w a personal knight reader

cw: slight yandere themes, violence

fyodor didn't want to let you see him looking so powerful just yet.

as far as you're concerned, his highness prefers working from the shadows. he isn't as popular as the other princes, nor does he have any offensive skills to show—his influence is weak and his demeanor mild. it fills you with fury when you hear the other princes laugh at him when he proposes new laws, and it takes everything in you to not lash out at the maids that giggle about how weak he looks. even the other nobles don't hide their insults, spreading rumours that tarnish his reputation and drag his name through the mud though they knew nothing about him.

only you had seen him spend sleepless nights studying papers and reports about the condition of the kingdom. only you knew about the wealth he was secretly amassing under a pen name, investing in advanced technology and talented artists, and the unconventional, but powerful, connections he was making with sorcerers and businessmen alike. you listened, starry eyed and in awe as he explained the most complex issues in the kingdom to you in a manner even you, who had not learned about the societal and economical concepts he knew, could understand.

sure, he didn't do the same showy acts of charity as the others, but his highness was not one for unnecessary pretenses. he showed no mercy when he instructed you to slaughter any assassins sent after him, but in your eyes, it was all justified. you don't expect that the prince who had been scorned since birth would have any compassion for his enemies.

many of your friends, knights under other orders, would often advise you to leave fyodor's side and join someone else, anyone else. even working for a dukedom would bring you more honor and fame than working under fyodor. though you knew they meant well, you never accepted their offers, instead standing tall by your master's side. you showed up to every public appearance by his side, you traveled anywhere he did, and you did as he ordered without question. anyone who had met fyodor had seen your unwavering loyalty first hand, and your name would eventually get tied to his.

to you, the prince you served was the only one who should become king. you sometimes wondered if he'd order you to slaughter the rest once the crown was laid upon his head, or if he'd suddenly revert to a kind, warm ruler. tyrant or not, he was still your master.

and fyodor wanted you to believe that his anaemic constitution and lack of strength to be a flaw. you didn't know that he was an extremely skilled sorcerer; one with powers beyond your imagination, nor did you know that he had already found a way to secure the throne. the assassins sent after him were no match for his own powers, but he liked having you protect him. he liked watching you leap up and put your life before his, even if the slightest scratch you received in return would lead to the complete annihilation of the person who planned the attack.

he liked when you had your sword at nikolai's throat the minute he even mentioned betraying fyodor, he liked the fire in your eyes when you defended him. he liked knowing that you had already dedicated your life to serving him. and if letting you believe he was weak would mean you coddled him even a little more, he didn't mind keeping up the appearances for a little longer.

but the charade had to end someday, and as he observed the look of admiration and surprise from you, who was witnessing him for his true nature, his resolve was reignited. when his amethyst eyes glowed with bloodthirst, and everyone else shuddered in front of the menacing look on his face, you had nothing but triumph and pure admiration to show. with the weight of the crown on his head and the kneeling figures of those who scorned him in front of him fueling his high, he uttered only a simple spell; one that would ensure the halls were painted red without him having to lift a finger.

even after the chaos that unfolded, all he could think about was how charming you'd look in your new uniform, standing by his—the king's—side when the morning came.

#fyodor Not being mean?! my real secret indulgence #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #yandere fyodor #yandere fyodor dostoevsky #yandere fyodor x reader #royal au #anon 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #ask 🐟 #fyodor 🐟 #🌺 anon 🐟 #royal au 🐟

[the-lonelybarricade]

In From the Snow - Chapter 1

Summary: With her sisters missing and her father dead, Nesta is forced to brave the coming winter and the contempt of her fellow villagers on her own. That is, until a mysterious dog appears and refuses to leave her side.

My contribution to @nessianweek Day 4: AU.

This is the Nessian installation to my They Are the Hunters series. While I would recommend reading the Elucien/Feysand stories, I did my best to give this story enough context to stand on its own. I really hope you enjoy!

Also shout out to Mr. LB for letting me borrow his computer to post this!

Read on AO3・Series Masterlist

-

The first snowfall of the year had always been a terrible omen.

Every year, as it laid siege to their poorly insulated cottage, Nesta’s family would wonder if they would live to see the snow melt in the spring.

This year, Nesta had known before the first snow arrived that their father would not survive the winter. His health had been deteriorating for a long time, and the news of Elain’s disappearance had devastated him, accelerating his decline until he could do little more than sleep beside the fire. She was a wretch for thinking it, but Nesta had long decided the day he didn’t wake up would be a relief. It was one less mouth to feed, especially when that mouth was hardly capable of swallowing for itself.

The firewood was dwindling. Nesta had used up so much of the excess in the days she had refused to leave the house, expecting the authorities to be waiting just beyond the front door, ready to carry Nesta and her father away to certain death. It didn’t matter if Feyre had been the one to steal the traveler’s horse or that Elain had allegedly been the one to murder her own husband. Neither were here to show for their crimes.

But the authorities never came. And her sisters never returned.

Surely, if either of them had been caught, the authorities would have come for the remainder of the Archerons? Nesta hadn’t yet braved the village to confirm, which meant that she and her father were on the brink of starvation, too.

Given that Nesta’s own constitution was rapidly weakening with the cold, it was no surprise at all that when the first snowfall visited in the night, it took their father with it. She didn’t feel relief when he didn’t open his eyes the next morning. She felt… numb.

Like her face when she opened the cottage door to a blast of frozen air. Like her fingers as she gripped the splintering shovel. Like her palms, rubbed raw from the repetitive motion of digging the metal into the cold, solid earth, then depositing it into a pile at her side.

Nesta had never had a good relationship with her father. She had always assumed that when he died, Elain would be there to express whatever sweet sentiment she felt he was owed at his burial. Unlike Elain, Nesta buried him in silence—just as he had been on the day Elain set down on a path to be married to a Lord’s son against her will.

Elain had never blamed him. Had always insisted it was out of his hands, just like their mother’s death. Just like their family’s fall from fortune when they were children. Elain was quick to forgive, always focused on what lay ahead. But Elain had never looked at their father’s ledger. Nesta had.

Not that any of it mattered now. Their father was dead, and Nesta likely wouldn’t be far behind. At least there had been someone to bury him in the ground, which was more than she could say for herself.

That night, she drank a cup of boiled water and fell asleep curled up beneath a thin blanket in front of the hearth. The fire crackled, close enough to coat her face and hair in soot as the snow continued mercilessly falling outside. Nesta knew that if she didn’t go to the village in the morning to find something to eat, soon she would be too weak to make the trip. And she would die.

By the time she fell asleep, she hadn’t decided which she would prefer.

She woke to sunlight filtering through the frosted window pane and the sound of scratching at her door. Nesta stilled, reaching for the fireplace poker as she wondered if this was it. Someone from the village had finally come for her. The authorities? Or was it just someone taking advantage of a lone, defenseless woman?

A creature sniffed at the small gap between the rickety door and the cold cottage floor. Gods, had someone brought their dog to chase her down? Nesta held her breath, watching the shadow pass in front of her door. Once, twice, three times, like it was moving in slow circles. And then it laid down, effectively barricading her in. She listened carefully for any sound of someone commanding the creature. There was only howling wind.

Fine, Nesta thought, creeping carefully into the room she had once shared with her sisters. The bed felt so empty without them—so much colder than sleeping in front of the fire. The room had a single window, just big enough for her to crawl through to make her escape. She pushed the latch open as quietly as she could and pulled herself through the gap.

Her landing was not overly graceful but quiet enough that she thought she wouldn’t be heard over the wind. Yet, when she turned to make her break, there it was. A dog so large she could have mistaken it for a bear. It had come around the house to watch her sneak out the window, and now it sat directly in her path.

It cocked its head, hazel eyes curious. If she didn’t know better—and she did—Nesta would have thought it looked amused with her stunt. Keeping him in her periphery, Nesta turned her head to assess if its owner was nearby, but nobody was around.

He didn’t look vicious. But he also didn’t look like a stray. He looked too well-fed, and his coat was clean. Well-groomed.

“Go home,” she said, making a small, shooing motion. “I don’t have any food to give myself, let alone some overgrown mutt.”

He was blocking the only way to the village. Ang grinning like he knew it. Cautiously, Nesta took a small step forward, then another, weighing the animal’s reaction. His posture remained friendly enough that she kept moving, still giving him a wide berth once she was on the main path.

The dog swiveled to face her as she stepped around him. And when she started down the path towards the village, he followed. The entire shivering trudge there, Nesta tried to convince him to leave. She’d have enough trouble convincing someone to sell her bread on her own, let alone with a gigantic dog following at her heels. Feyre’s cat had been the exact same way, and Nesta wondered why animals seemed to adopt such strange fixations on their family.

“Go,” she tried one last miserable time on the outskirts of the village. When he still refused, she stomped the rest of the way to the baker’s shop, determined to pretend the stupid thing wasn’t there at all.

It was harder to do so when she saw the baker’s face. “Nesta,” he said warily. His attention flickered to the dog at her feet, then back to her face. She didn’t miss the way his nose curled with distaste. “Hello.”

Never mind all the hours she had spent tutoring his daughter, then. Years of fostering goodwill with his family in exchange for a stale loaf of bread, dismissed on rumor that Elain might have murdered her husband. The village acted like the Archerons had the plague, and even if Elain had murdered Graysen, the reaction was certainly overblown. As far as Nesta was concerned, the Nolan men had been insufferable, and Elain had done the village a favor.

“Hi.” She pressed three copper pieces to the counter. “I just need one loaf.”

He stared at the copper pieces, not moving to collect them.

“What’s wrong?” She asked hotly. “My family’s coin was perfectly fine a month ago.”

“I’ve increased the price,” he said stiffly, pushing the coin back with his arm. Like touching the same coin would somehow mark him as the next Archeron victim. “This is not enough.”

“You used to charge me a copper,” she seethed.

He gestured towards the window. “Winter has fallen. Times are growing harder.”

“And if I asked Claire Beddor how much you charged her family this morning, what would she say?”

The baker shrugged, calling her bluff. “Why don’t you ask her?”

Claire Beddor wouldn’t speak to her. No one would. Not since Tomas, and certainly not since Lord Graysen’s murder.

Gritting her teeth, Nesta pushed a copper onto the table. The baker stared blankly at her, until she slammed down another. He shook his head.

“This is all we have,” Nesta said desperately, even though it wasn’t true. Feyre had stolen enough from the passing traveler to feed them for months—or it would have been if the villagers weren’t raising their prices out of contempt.

The baker opened his mouth, and Nesta truly believed he was going to send her onto the street to starve when the dog at her side began growling. The baker took one look at the creature’s bared teeth and turned pale. He quickly grabbed the extortionate amount of money from the counter and tossed a loaf at Nesta with a strained, “Get out of my shop.”

She’d take it, even if her blood was boiling. The loaf would be enough to last her a week, at least. It would buy her time to figure out how to deal with the villagers. What to do with the remaining coin. If she could just find someone willing to sell her passage to Velaris, it would be enough to get to Elain. But no one from this village would be willing to help.

“Here,” Nesta said, pausing outside her cottage door. The dog stopped with her, watching curiously as she tore a piece from the loaf of bread and held it aloft. “You take this, and we’ll be even, okay? You’ll leave me alone. Deal?”

The dog nodded, though she was certain that had more to do with how she bobbed the piece of bread in the air.

“Ready?” She said, raising the piece over her head. He shuffled back, keeping his eyes on the piece of bread. “Go get it!”

Then Nesta launched it as far as she could towards the treeline, watching as the dog launched itself after it, disappearing in the shadow. She used the opportunity to quickly slip back inside the cottage, hoping that when he returned to see the door was closed and that she wasn’t going to let him in, he would move on to harass someone else.

-

Nesta woke the next morning to a strange, rhythmic thud cleaving through the forest.

She wasn’t certain if it was the sound or the vibrations that trembled through the old wooden floorboards of the cottage that eventually dragged her from sleep. She rose, blearily fixing her eyes on the hearth that had died at some point in the night, the soot now jostling loose with each powerful blow outside.

Her concern was delayed, seeping slowly through the cracks of the frost-fogged window as she slowly steadied herself in the waking world. It didn’t take long, though, for the ice to leak through and grip her chest tightly.

Then, she was crawling toward the window, careful to keep herself obscured as she slowly raised her face to the frozen glass. It wasn’t the villagers finally come to mob her, thankfully. Though she couldn’t say for certain that the strange man standing over her family’s splitting block was any less alarming.

He held a familiar long-handled axe in his large bare hands. Nesta couldn’t count how often Feyre had warned her not to leave the axe outside. Enough times for Nesta to leave it willingly, half in pettiness and half because she couldn’t stand the sight of the thing. And now it was in a stranger’s hand, lifted over his dark head of hair with discomforting ease before he let it fall onto the upright block of wood he’d placed atop the flared stump. A clean, precise cut.

The man didn’t even survey his perfect work before he chucked the two pieces aside into the pile of wood he’d accumulated over what looked to be hours. Or maybe not. He retrieved another block and split it beneath the axe so quickly that Nesta didn’t doubt he’d be able to clear the whole forest by nightfall. He didn’t even stop to wipe a broad hand across his brow before he was chopping the next block, then the next.

Drawing away from the window, Nesta quickly surveyed the kitchen for something—anything—she could use to defend herself against a man with an axe. A knife seemed useless, but… Feyre had left her bow and arrow behind when she’d fled the village. Nesta didn’t know how to use it, not as effectively as Feyre, but he didn’t know that.

Feyre tried to teach her once. A few winters ago, when the harsh conditions had brought Elain looking so close to death that Nesta had felt desperate enough to learn. But she’d barely caught so much as a rabbit mimicking Feyre’s techniques, and by the time spring rolled around, Nesta resigned the skill back to her sister and took to other avenues of ensuring their survival, like making friendly with the woodcutter’s son.

Not that any of it mattered anymore. All that was left of her family was the rotting cottage and Feyre’s abandoned bow. Her youngest sister might have laughed had she been there to witness Nesta kick the door open with the string pulled to the corner of her lip.

The man paused with the axe raised over his head. He looked over at her, blinking as he took in the notched arrow pointed towards him, then her dressing gown, her bare feet. He raised a dark, slitted brow and grinned slowly as he rested the axe casually over his broad shoulder.

“Careful, sweetheart.” A pair of unnervingly clever hazel eyes raked her over. There was an edge to them, a wildness that seemed well suited to the forest at his back. “You’re going to poke someone’s eye out with that thing.”

“Get off my property.” Her breath clouded in front of her face. So did his—steady puffs of air through his wide nose, a sharp contrast to her heavy exhale even though he had been the one chopping wood.

Did he notice her ragged breath, her trembling hands? Hopefully, he was too busy eying her nightgown, how it’d been sewn for a body a few years younger, tight in the chest and hips because they hadn’t been able to afford a replacement in years.

“Or you’ll what,” he said, with infuriating calm, “shoot me?”

She tightened her grip, pulled the string back further like she intended to release.

He laughed. “Go ahead.”

He believed she didn’t have it in her, the bastard. Nesta kept the bow trained on him, entertaining shooting him just for the crime of underestimating her. “Why are you chopping wood here?”

“I thought this house was abandoned.”

Lie. He’d have been able to see the smoke drifting from the chimney in the hatched roof. Though, Nesta had no way of knowing when the fire had died while she slept. She wished she could go back in and feel the stone to gauge how recently it had stopped burning.

“And why would you be chopping wood at an abandoned house?”

He set down the axe. Her axe. And raised his palms as though in surrender. “I was planning to sell it.”

“You’re going to sell the wood,” she repeated.

“Yes,” he said proudly.

“At the village?”

“That is typically where one sells wood, is it not?”

“I’ve never seen you before,” Nesta said, examining his clothes. His winter cape, lined with wolf pelts she would have believed he’d hunted himself, had been discarded in the snow, leaving him in a belted fur-lined tunic of simple make. A pair of leather gloves was tucked into his belt, and his dark hair was tied off his face, though pieces of it hung loose at his temples, his neck. Better off than a common woodcutter, but certainly no lord’s son. “We already have a woodcutter in this village.”

“Is there not room for two?”

The Mandrays wouldn’t think so. It wasn’t Nesta’s problem, but it could be. If they knew he had been at this cottage first, chopping his wood here. Thomas was already looking for any excuse to throw her at the village’s mercy and with the rumors surrounding Elain and now Feyre… Nesta didn’t think she would survive whatever retribution Thomas would seek if he thought she had any association with this woodcutter.

“No,” she said, tipping her chin defiantly. Her fingers were growing numb, the string crooked round her finger cutting off whatever circulation was left. She gritted her teeth. “Go terrorize the next village over.”

As if he didn’t hear her, the man unlooped the belt around his waist and began gathering the wood into a pile.

“I said stop,” she hissed.

“What if I offer you a cut of my profits?”

Not good enough. The villagers wouldn’t take her money. They’d sooner accuse her of stealing it and hang her for the crime.

Besides, she didn’t trust a strange man threatened beneath a bow to return with any measure of good intentions. Particularly not once he discovered she was here alone, with no father or sisters or anyone to protect her, to hear her scream. It was better if this man forgot who she was. All she needed was to survive the winter, then she could attempt the journey to Velaris in the spring. And surviving meant keeping her head down, her mouth shut. Her bow unstrung.

“Leave a few pieces of wood,” she said. “And tell no one that you were here. That’s my price.”

There was something very dangerous about how his mouth quirked to the side. He began placing several logs in a new pile as he asked casually, “Afraid of making one of the boys in the village jealous?”

Nesta’s spine straightened. He might be asking out of ordinary interest, like any gentleman might inquire if a lady’s heart was taken. But from the predatory way he watched her, the way those eyes practically begged her to release her fingers on the drawstring, she thought it was more likely that he was probing for information, determining whether someone would come looking for her if he decided this cottage and its sole occupant were ripe for the taking.

“No one will buy from you if they knew where you chopped this wood,” she said, praying that alone would deter him.

His laughter rumbled through his chest. “Is that because you threaten all your guests with a bow?” Nesta thought it sounded oddly like a question and a compliment in one. She kept the arrow trained on him, kept her jaw clenched as he grinned. “Alright, alright. Understood.” He crouched to grab his cape, throwing it carelessly over his shoulder before lifting the stack of wood by the makeshift sling. He offered a nod of farewell as he set down the path towards the village, “See you around, then, sweetheart.”

Nesta waited until the sound of footsteps faded, and his large frame was eclipsed entirely by trees before she lowered the bow. He’d left the axe behind, embedded in the wood, and she cautiously ventured forward to retrieve it, as well as the generous pile of wood he’d left behind.

She hoped he was wrong. She hoped she never saw him again.

But she couldn’t get the sight of his eyes out of her mind. The way he’d watched her with a hunger that she knew intimately. Her heart was racing in fear, she told herself. If she’d learned anything from her sisters, it was that the desire of men was dangerous.

So when she heard something sniffing and scratching outside her door later that evening and peeked through the window to see the dog lying in front of the cottage, she let it inside.

Just in case the man returned and expected to find her alone.

#Nessian #Nessian fic #Nessian fanfic #Nessian fanfiction #Nesta x Cassian #Cassian x Nesta #They Are the Hunters #In From the Snow #Nessianweek2023

[originalgenshinscenarios]

Hi, I read your rules and I don’t think my request breaks anything. If it does I apologize.

I would like to request platonic headcanons for a sickly!sibling reader who was born with a weak constitution with Jean, barbara, ningguang and Ayaka.

Please and thank you.

It doesn't! I'm very happy about writing familial and platonic stuff :3

Jean, Barbara, Ninguangg and Ayaka with a sickly sibling

Reader here is gender neutral

Jean

There isn't a time where she isn't worried about you. She knows you're capable and all... But she just can't help but overthink sometimes.

Luckily at least Barbara can take care of you on daily basis, but she still wants you to know that you can rely on her too.

Your relationship is rather awkward, but it's easy to see how much Jean is trying her best during each of your interactions.

You still have a long way, but in the end as family you look out for each other in every way you can. Especially since Jean needs someone to look after her as well.

Barbara

You and Jean meant everything to her, so while she didn't spend much time with Jean she gave all that focus to you.

She knew how to take care of your condition since forever. There wasn't a time where she felt clueless about what to do in certain situations when your illness took a toll on you.

That and her abilities made for perfect support. She always made sure to also cheer you up when you needed it. Although she often worried she might say something wrong.

But she never did so. You could always count on her encouragement... That's why you felt bad that she was so nervous about possibly offending you.

Ninguangg

Ever since you were young she always took care of you. She never wanted you to wonder if you'll have enough Mora for medical treatment and such.

Of course you hated feeling like such a burden to her. Seeing how she had to find ways to earn Mora just to keep the two of you going.

You helped her in any way you could, and such upbringing only made your present bond stronger.

Although she was busy, she always made sure to have time for you. You're her family, and you're the most important person to her.

The last thing she'd do is to make you feel forgotten. She always reminds you to take your medication, you always eat together, and at least once a week you have a day where the two of you have some sibling bonding.

Ayaka

As she recently began going to different places, experiencing new things she always brings you along with her.

If your condition gets worse, she's willing to skip on some events because she'd never let you feel lonely or forgotten.

Either that or she tells you literally everything you want to know about her outing. She doesn't miss out a single detail and when possible she even brings a few photos.

You can always count on her, Thoma and Ayato (whenever he's home) but it's obvious that you're the closest to Ayaka.

~Mod Lisa

#familial relationships #sibling reader #jean genshin #jean genshin impact #jean gunnhildr #barbara gunnhildr #barbara genshin impact #gi barbara #barbara gi #ayaka kamisato genshin impact #ayaka kamisato #genshin ayaka #kamisato ayaka #ayaka genshin impact #ningguang genshin #gi ningguang #ningguang genshin impact #genshin ningguang

[positivelybeastly]

Sometimes I feel like beast gets treated more harshly for some things than other characters are for almost identical actions. The time travel stuff especially, but the collective actions of the Illuminati as well

Heh. You know, it's funny, I was literally just grabbing a cap of some Stuart Immonen art from All-New X-Men #2, of a really pretty X-Jet, and, because I'm a glutton for punishment, I clicked the comments. Do you wanna read them? No? Too bad, I had to read them, so now, so do you.

"Hank is so self-absorbed it's incredible. No wonder the Watcher thinks he's garbage."

"Also, i think Beast should be lobotomized for his crimes against children and the space/time continuum."

"That said: f**k you, Hank. You are so weak and arrogant that you would risk destroying your oldest and dearest friends because you can't handle Scott helping mutants? You risk destroying the timeline and destroying your friends' relationships and their very minds and spirits."

Like . . . fuck, man.

It really is all just Bendis' fault. He made Hank do something so mind-numbingly stupid, and it was presented slap bang in people's faces, and LITERALLY NO-ONE stopped to question if it was even in-character for him to do this.

It wasn't, by the way.

Be warned, disturbingly hot, smart, and urbane Hank McCoy incoming.

OH HEY.

LOOK.

IT'S ALMOST LIKE HANK'S FUCKING SMART OR SOMETHING.

I JUST.

GET.

SO.

FUCKING.

ANGRY.

THE MAN IS FUCKING SMART. And then Bendis just has him do something so mind-numbingly stupid, and no-one even blinks an eye at whether or not it even made sense for him to do it.

And do you know what makes me fucking laugh? Is that other writers were actively mocking the plotlines as they were going on, but because so many comics readers are as dumb as fucking rocks, they didn't even realise.

Oh yeah, it IS almost as if people in the Marvel Universe regularly fuck the timestream without taking it for dinner or applying lube, I almost fucking forgot! But because Bendis decides that there are ramifications this time, suddenly Hank is the destroyer of all of space time.

Which of the three is it? Was this something that was always meant to happen, or not? If this is something that can happen when you meddle with space-time, why did Hank do it? Why? Is? Bendis-Hank? So? Fucking? DUMB???

And you know what, I need to bring this up, because LITERALLY FUCKING NO-ONE ELSE IN THE FANDOM EVER WILL

This was not a decision he made in his right mind? He was dying? His brain is seizing? He's having heart palpitations, in agonising pain, his mentor is dead and one of his oldest friends was the one who killed him, and he's in such a depressive spiral that he doesn't even want to tell the people around him that he's dying because he doesn't want to worry them.

But no, this is a decision that we're never, ever, ever going to let Hank live down. In fact, this decision is SO AWFUL THAT

Fucking blow me.

I know that I'm, like, seemingly the one X-Men fan that actually reads fucking comic books rather than going off panels I see posted on Twitter (this slight is aimed mostly at Reddit, not here, don't worry), but, like . . . god, I'm just so fucking furious that I had to sit, and watch a targeted character assassination, in real time, of my favourite character, and the fandom just fucking lapped it up.

Even now, the era from the end of Avengers vs. X-Men to Krakoa is called the Lost Era in mutant history. There are SO MANY THINGS that have been completely forgotten.

Hey, remember when Emma Frost did this?

Oh yeah, what consequences did she face for this?

Nothing?

The amount of shit that sticks to Hank makes me fucking sick. Everyone gets a pass for what they did, except for Hank.

The New Avengers/Illuminati stuff is the one that gets my goat, because do you know how Hank spent that time?

Buckle the fuck in.

Hank lacks the constitution for hard decisions.

Hank believes in the power of good men to change the world with ideals.

Hank will take the coward's way out, every time. The way that saves lives.

Hank will spend the time to talk, every time.

"We should help if we can. How could we not?"

Oh hey, Bruce Banner, I think everyone kinda forgot you were in this Illuminati too and you get a free pass!

Interesting.

Hmmmmm.

That last one REALLY makes me laugh because it really does just kinda read to me as Hickman pointing out that Hank's actions in All-New X-Men make no fucking sense.

And Hank has to just.

Sit there.

And take it.

And every.

Single.

Time.

Someone tries to put him back on the path to being who he is meant to be, some.

Fucking.

Jack-off.

Ruins it again.

Shit sticks to Hank like it doesn't stick to anyone else.

I'm fucking sick of it.

I ain't even touching the Percy stuff. That's just - phwaoooooah. Not to mention, I'm out of images.

Just sucks, man.

Just sucks.

#Anonymous #outofmuffins

[uncivilcivilservice]

Daniel/Marius - First line: "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Summary: Daniel discusses moving to live with Trinity Gate with Armand, with Marius after he becomes Prime Minister and moves them both to Court.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Marius said, reorganising the papers on his desk for what had to have been the 20th time in just a few minutes, a covienient reason to avoid meeting Daniel's eyes.

"Don't say it like that, it's not that I don't want to be here with you, but I don't think letting things continue the way they are just now is what either of us need."

Daniel took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing.

"I just think it would be good for both of us if-"

"Don't try and make this about what I need Daniel. If you really need to go, fine, we'll arrange for that to happen, but do not attempt to convince me that I actually want this, or that I benefit from you leaving."

Marius was still fussing with the various documents and letters on his desk, jaw clenched tight even as his expression and tone of voice remained calm and measured. A still mist over troubled waters, Daniel thought, no matter how hard Marius would deny that.

"I am not pushing you away." Marius said, finally looking up to meet Daniel's gaze. "Things have just been-"

"Busy. I know. I know you haven't meant to be distracted, or for us to spend almost no time together but..."

Daniel sighed. Patience had never been his strong point, but dammit he had tried. He had given it a number of months, and then a few more, hoping that once things had settled down they would find the right balance.

It's not as if Daniel didn't know things would have to change. He had Marius's near undividied attention for years, sharing it only with whatever art project Marius was fixated on at the time. He knew things couldn't be like that any longer now that Marius had his duties and responsibilities to Court, but surely they shouldn't be going days or weeks without a chance to speak more than a sentence to each other, nevermind actually hang out and enjoy each others company?

They shared a bed for god sake, not that Daniel ever saw Marius in it anymore when he was long gone when Daniel woke, and didn't retire until Daniel was still and cold in the death sleep.

It's not as though Daniel had many other reasons to stay at Court, when it was so loud and overwhelming with the buzz of so many immortals in one place he often worried he might descend back into the depths of his madness just to find some escape from it all. It was also filled with prying eyes and gossiping mouths that were waiting to spot any slip up or mistake and spread it around the entire coven, whispering about the weak link of a strong bloodline.

And with a much more attractive option lying just a couple nights travel away in New York...

"... I just need a break from this place, and you deserve a break from worrying about me all the time, let Armand take care of his own fledgling for once."

The lopsided smile Daniel flashed with this statement was a poor attempt at levity, but his precarious mental condition was still an uncomfortable topic for him to discuss, even with the one person who had seen him at his absolute lowest in the past years.

Truth was, his breakdowns were the only thing that consistently brought Marius back to his side. If Daniel found himself jumping at shadows, or unable to find words to speak, or to tear himself away from counting the leaves on the thousands of trees visible from their window, then Marius would cancel whatever he had planned that day to come and sit with him, and make sure he was fed and cared for.

And really it was bad enough in Daniel's mind to still be having these episodes after all these years, though thankfully they were becoming less frequent, but now they also tended to cause a near constitutional crisis and severe disruption to the entire Court.

"I don't mind taking care of you. I never have." Marius's hands lay still now over the piles of important Prime Ministerial work.

"I know. But we both know this isn't sustainable" Daniel leaned across and covered one of Marius's hands with both of his own. The much older hands were cold as ice, a sign he had neglected to feed again for longer than he probably should have. The ornate rings almost felt warm by comparison, and Daniel traced their familiar shapes with his fingers, trying to find the words Marius needed to hear.

"I'll come back, and then you'll have a better excuse to make time for us than you do just now" Daniel kept smiling, trying to reassure Marius, and maybe himself, that this is fine, it's only temporary, they'll be fine without each other, they are both going to be okay.

When Marius smiled it was a little strained, but he turned his hand over to take Daniel's and give it a firm squeeze.

"And I suppose, if you're planning on leaving so soon, that might give me an excuse to make time for us now"

The grin Daniel broke into was clearly contagious as Marius mirrored it almost instantly.

They spent the rest of that night lying entwined, alternating between watching television, and when they could find nothing to watch, reading together or just talking, until the sun started to take it's effect on Daniel and he was carried off to bed, where for once Marius joined him before he was fully asleep. Using the last of his energy to lean into Marius's hands combing through his hair, nails tracing intrcate patterns across his scalp, Daniel's last thought before his mind went blank: This. This is what I want.

#This isn't very good but I set a goal to write and post something today so you get this self-indulgent mess haha #Thank you for the prompt! It gave me a reason to explore this part of canon even if I did so a little clumsily #marius/daniel #daniel molloy #marius de romanus #vc #vc fic #daniel #marius

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 33

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Intercrural Sex, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello (TMNT), Mating Cycles/In Heat

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Huge shout-out this chapter to @shiftandshade because I literally stole the sleepy wake-up scene straight out of their head (it's so good, I did not do it justice) and also for freaking hitting me with good good turtle anatomy lessons! Also @8pmblackcoffee for encouraging more marathon! I hope this one is okay... it uh... got away from me as you'll see in one moment AND OF COURSE HOW COULD I FORGET (I totally did) @some-guy-named-dominyk for many many many moons ago helping me soften up what was originally a much more violent chapter. They really helped directed me to what ends up happening (minus again some... uh.. yeah)

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

WARNING THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS AN ACUTE NON-CONSENSUAL SCENE. THIS IS NOT A NORM FOR THIS FIC. PLEASE KEEP YOURSELF SAFE!

Last warning for the 🍋 under the cut. Minors DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: taking bra off sentence, some light technical genitalia wordings, self-pussy examination, lubing up the labia, clit mentions, and a boob grab

Donnie had been… odd, to say the least.

It hadn’t been anything exact, but he was… different.

You first noticed it when you were doing some dishes. He’d originally stayed behind on the couch, scrolling on his phone. This was your chore and you never minded much. Setting clean glasses aside to dry later, you suddenly felt a presence behind you. Moving slowly, you turned to find him simply leaning on a nearby counter. Hands sudsy, you’d asked him what he was up to. He didn’t look up from his phone as he regaled you in a series of studies he was comparing. That not being how you meant it, you pressed only for him to finally tear his eyes from his screen. It was there you’d seen the flash; the loss of comprehension.

He hadn’t realized he’d moved.

Brows furrowed, he looked around the kitchen as if that wasn’t part of his natural environment. His body then lurched and in a mild haze he mechanically worked his way back to the couch. He’d seemed put out enough that you let him be in a verbal sense. Exchanging words for a vigil, you kept a closer eye on him. It was in the next week you started to notice just how close he started to loom.

His affections were something you never took for granted and, even having moved in together, weren’t always overt. Days where touch was out of the question still existed, but it was clear quality time was one of his love languages. It often constituted simply sharing a room, but that didn’t make it any less. The oddity came with his proximity. Where you usually occupied your own sides of the couch, he’d started to encroach on the center. When you’d get up to grab something, he’d begun to move to follow. Even if it was something as simple as crossing the room, his body would animate to give yours chase. You hadn’t minded. It was honestly sort of cute at first, but it was his reaction that had your worries increasing.

He never noticed.

His hovering was something that happened without conscious thought. More often than not you’d been the one to point it out and, as soon as the glass broke, Donnie would succumb to a moment akin to terror. He prided himself on his mind and it was clear that each time it betrayed him, he’d short circuit. With it happening more and more frequently, you saw a frustration akin to the beginning of your relationship. He was distressed, but even more concerning.

He’d forget.

Each revelation came with its own erasure. No matter how many times he’d come to notice his loitering, there was an equal amount where the information simply fell out of his head. With each event getting closer together, you’d gotten up to noting it three times in a single hour. The momentary alarm he exhibited disappeared into a fog that was enclosing around him.

It was around then that he started staring.

Something you thought you were used to, the way he watched you was unsettling. Instead of an eye picking up details, what tracked you were enlarged pupils that sought nothing. Less scary and more ominous, his deadened watch made your skin crawl. The sight of you going doubly unseen by him was haunting. It’s not like you always expected to have his attention, but this purgatory of having it without cognizance was like being followed by a shadow not your own.

Getting ready for work that morning, you hadn’t had as much time to address it as you would have liked. The mixture of his strangeness was hitting critical levels, but the weekend was still a few days away. You had vacation and sick days, but you were hoping to use them for something else. Taking a momentary lapse in your routine, you moved over to the computer with him glued to your side. Using his medical codes, you brought up his monitors and found there wasn’t a single anomaly. You turned to ask him how he felt, but that lackluster gaze was pinned, unseeing, on your form.

Huffing, you reached out to cradle his face. In the touch, he blinked with a moment of clarity. “I’m worried about you, Don.”

With his sound of confusion, your chest constricted.

His ignorance was always so genuine.

“If I ask you to go get checked out by Nagami today, will you remember?”

His brow further furrowed and, without moving from your touch, his pupils moved to the screens. He took in the detail of the medical charts and returned to you with even more confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Me neither…” You watched him with hopeless sadness and tried not to succumb to it. Releasing him, you felt him move as if searching while you turned back to the computer. In a few swipes you got up an empty window and typed him out a reminder message. “You have work today, right? You’ll see this when you-”

Turning found him gone once again and in his place were haunting onyx pools, seeing without sight.

“Shelly?”

Your tech gauntlet buzzed.

“There’s a note on Don’s computer.” You watched a little icon of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s head appear there. “It’s a big ask, but can you make sure he goes?”

The little icon turned as if reading the message before spinning  back around and a text bubble appeared beside him. ‘What’s going on?’

“I don’t know, but something’s up. It’s… different than when he got sick… It’s hard to explain.”

‘That’s… weird?’ You watched the medical windows shuffle as if cards in a digital deck. ‘Huh.’

“Please, Shelly.”

‘Oh, I’ll get him there. Not even a question! I could never refuse a request from you!’

“Is that programming?” Nerves had worn your insecurities. As the question hit the air, you despised the way it sounded.

‘No. It’s because I care.’

Forcing up a smile to make the response permeate, you responded.. “Thanks, Shelly. If you find anything, shoot me a text.”

‘Roger, roger!’

Leaving the computer with your six foot nine shadow, you got through the rest of your morning prep. Given only a few seconds of solitude, it was in slinging a bag over your shoulder that you had a moment of doubt. Pecking Donnie on the cheek and watching him only surface for a moment. You went for the door handle behind your back. It kept the knob out of his gaze as you cracked the entrance and slipped out. Closing it and holding the handle tight, you could feel him grasping it from the other side.

You had to order S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to keep it shut in order to get away.

The rush of the morning commute set your imagination ablaze. It was in a stomach dropping realization that you connected just how much of your existence was tied to Donnie’s mind. He had full technological control of the apartment. He had any number of plans going at any moment that ensured both your safeties. As much as you always pushed him to let loose, you’d seen his actual strength. Without a measure, there was a slim chance of bodily threat, but that paled in comparison to your next thought.

You didn’t even know who he banked with.

If you were going to take charge for a while, you’d need to get a handle on the expenses. Wondering how much his rent was and if your savings could cover it in the interim, you walked straight into your office building having blanked the entire journey there. Suddenly in your cubicle and still struggling with the mental math, the blessed image of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. came to mind. There was always the chance he had some failsafe installed for this, but there was also that bypass they’d mentioned for your safety.

Hoping that extended to the monetary, your work day was spent in a haze. With your phone on your desk and heart nearly stopping every time it lit up, you were comforted only by the fact that there were no messages from S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. That had to mean at least something went right and your boyfriend had gotten to whatever approximation of doctor Nagami was. Clocking out exactly on time and with faint contingencies in place, you rushed for the elevator. Getting out in the first wave, you felt a little better with the knowledge that you’d have some kind of answer getting home.

Stepping up to the apartment building, you easily entered and headed to your floor. Door in view and relief in sight, you approached and adjusted your bag’s straps. The last vestiges of worry tingled in your fingertips as the knob turned easily. Opening slowly and peering your head in, Donnie was standing at his lit computer. Anxiety melting off of you, you entered casually and set your bag aside. “Hey, you busy?”

“I’m finishing up.”

You nodded in time, digging for your phone which wasn’t in your pocket. Frowning, you patted yourself down and didn’t find it. Grouching, you dropped to search your bag and found it nearly instantly with an annoyed frown. Coming back up, you saw past your device and actually took in details of your boyfriend.

There was something purple and blocky locked around his neck.

It almost looked like a neck brace from the shape of it, but from its texture you weren’t sure what its function was. 

“Did something happen at Nagami’s?”

“I didn’t go.”

“You-?” Tilting your head, you took a step forward. “Donnie.”

“There was no time.” You took in his posture and realized how tight it was. His hands weren’t resting on the table to type. Instead, his palms were actually shoved into the surface with his fingers nearly clawing beyond that. His legs were parted with his knees ever so slightly bent as if he were bearing a huge weight. His shoulders were then tensed high above his shell and pressed to the object around his throat.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ve left a note here.” With a twitch, he nodded his head towards the computer screen where there was what looked like a list. “I don’t know how long I have, but I believe I’ve placed every precaution possible. I considered sending you away, but this is your home. Luxury accommodations have been booked for you if you tire of dealing with me.”

“Tire of you…? What do you mean?” Taking another step, you watched his head turn.

In a slow tilt, his snout raised and he tested the air. Even from across the apartment you could clearly see where his gaze shifted. In a sluggish reflex, his pupils widened and he took on that unfocused look you knew all too well. He then attempted to roll his head, but was trapped by the brace. He was forced to rotate his whole body, but nothing in his expression said he cared. In a careful creep, he began to stalk towards you.

Sensing there was nothing to fear and since he’d been following you around like this for the past couple of weeks anyway, you approached. He crouched as he got closer, but nothing about his posture said he’d pounce. Instead, he seemed like he wanted to be down on your level. Only a step away from meeting, he suddenly darted to the right. You watched him openly as he weaved in his hunch, rounding you like a cautious animal.

“Alright…” He disappeared behind your back only to continue his trek around. You tracked him with a turn of your head. “This is new…?” You offered him a hand and he bobbed around it curiously.

Returning to his start position to round you anew, you glimpsed the computer behind him. There was a new pop-up that looked similar to one you’d seen before.  

The neural link was interrupted.

The accompanied text looked different though, but you were too far to make it out exactly.

“So you are sick?” With purpose this time, you reached out to graze his face in an attempt to gauge his temperature.

As soon as you neared, he darted away as if waiting for something more. When it didn’t come he went right back to circling.

You were at a loss. He had an almost playful quality to him, but he clearly wasn’t interested in normal interaction. “Um…?”

“Y/N!”

“Shelly?!” Blinking, your head shot up as you searched for the source. 

“Coming through the computer! I’ve got speaker access!”

You scanned for that little icon you’d seen this morning. It had been small and nothing looked out of place in the monitors. Trying to take a step, you were stopped when Donnie jumped around you in two large bounds. He blocked your path with a snake-like bob before continuing his rounds. “What is up with you?” You scolded your partner before looking up at the computer. “You got access? How bad is it?”

“We uh....”

“What’s going on?”

“Also… kinda… sort of…”

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.!”

“It’s hard to explain! I’m trying!”

You took a deep breath through your nose and blew it out your mouth. “Alright, I am trying really hard not to freak out. Try listing important stuff first?”

“Are you okay? Oh man, we cannot deal with anything else…!”

“I’m fine! I’m worried! Explain!”

“Y-yeah!! Um… Let’s see!” You watched as a dozen screens appeared on the monitors. They then shuffled through until an image of an actual soft shell turtle appeared. “You’re probably most worried… about… Don! He is… fine, by all accounts…” In time a bunch of his medical windows appeared to one side, neatly organized and glowing green with health.

“Like this morning…” You gave a faint nod.

Around you, Donnie was starting to gyrate at the shoulders adding flourish to his movements.

“This morning…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. quieted before coming back with a volume that clipped in the speakers. “Oh, that’s perfect!!” Again the many windows began to filter except this time they were so fast you couldn’t follow them.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.! Not trying to rush you, but should I be worried about… this!?” You gestured to Donnie moving in a more erratic fashion by the second.

“I don’t know! I need to clip the video, bare with me while I just…”

Donnie brushed your leg and you nearly jumped.

It caused a slow where blackened orbs attempted to absorb your very being.

“Woah… You look like a dilation procedure gone very wrong…” You balked. 

“Here! Who better to explain then… him!” 

As if on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. ushered a grand reveal, a huge video of Donnie took up all the screens.

Glancing between it and the actual one that had started back up his circling, you could guess it was from today as he was wearing the same thing.

“Okay…” On-screen Donnie sighed heavily before wiping a hand over his face. “Mark log start date May 17th time 10:12am. I’ve been experiencing …symptoms, unbeknownst to me. I’ve enlisted S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., on call-”

“Heyo!”

Donnie gave a faint sneer. “-to discuss the irregularities and go over potential threats to Y/N.”

“Basically!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. disembodied voice began before it halted. “I take over now, right?”

“Yes.”

“Basically!” The bot repeated with authority and then gave a little titter before resuming his serious nature. “Going over the footage has seen an increasing dissociative effect. It dates back a little over a month and starts small where you can see Don staring at Y/N for periods and then shaking free of it…”

“Which I have no recollection of doing.”

“Exactly, clips attached mark event 127 numbered sequentially. As we move forward through the snippets, we find that the events increase in both duration and severity.”

“This includes the other referenced symptom of needing to be in Y/N’s immediate space.”

“From what I can tell, Y/N picked up on it about two weeks ago and then alerted us today of what was happening.”

Donnie pinched the space between his eyes. “I have… a hypothesis, but it would be… outlandish.”

“You do?!”

“Of course.” Donnie narrowed his gaze right into the camera.

“So…?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. drew out the syllable and then waited.

Donnie’s lids dropped further.

“Well!?”

“At the time of this recording I am approximately 34 years of age and if what I am considering is to be true, then it would be the first recorded instance in my lifetime.” Donnie reached for the screen and his fingers disappeared as he moved something around on the monitor. “The only comparison that we have is puberty which was not experienced under what could be called ‘normal’ circumstances. Otherwise, such time can be barred as, from what I can recall, it was akin to that of an average humans.”

“You’re… Is that possible?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s voice came out with an eerie even keel.

“Mutant biology is considerably novel.”

“Why now?”

“I have…” Donnie’s head tipped to one side and his gaze trended down. “…a viable partner.”

 “You’re suggesting Y/N triggered it?”

Donnie hesitated and his hand retreated back into view with shaky digits.

“Donatello?”

You watched fear take Donnie by the throat before he caught hold of the emotion. He then crushed it in a vice grip and began to move. “We have very little time to prepare. While it would be against scientific study to jump to conclusions, I am compelled to posit that I am in the final stages. Charting the increased symptoms-“ Both his hands came up to disappear in a flurry of movements. “-I believe we can hypothesize that it will come to a head today. What that means in terms of the prognosis, we aren’t sure, but we can make educated guesses.” With a downward sweep a holographic keyboard was brought down to what you could see of the table and Donnie began to type with worry eating away at his features.

There was a faint sound of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. stuttering as he presumably tried to keep up.

“Curtail and contain. That is how we shall proceed.” With a rash swipe, Donnie threw the digital keyboard projection away as if clearing his desk. “Location!”

“Arriving in t-minus…” There was a countdown beeping noise before you heard S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s voice shift as if he were just off camera.

Donnie turned to where he had come in presumably through the kitchen window. “I’m moving the Dar-”

There was a fizzle of static.

The audio feed was cut, but not the visual.

Donnie’s mouth moved.

You weren’t a lip reader, but the way his tongue rolled was clear.

You knew what it meant.

“-protocol to threat level red.”

“Are you sure, we don’t-!?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. flew into frame behind Donnie.

“Know what’s possible!” Donnie banged his desk and let the rage linger.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. flew a little lower and was quiet.

Donnie recomposed himself in a breath. “I’ve booked at least two weeks at The Lowell and placed a temporary extension on the room if necessary. I’ve contacted several chefs to see who is available on short notice. I’ll need to…” He turned the other way, looking toward the bedroom. “This will act as the eponymous ‘go-bag.’”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gave a single nod.

“Assignments.” Donnie rotated his body to address the bot. “You will take the P.O.P. suit out of beta and get it fully operational before Y/N gets home. You’ll be acting liaison if I’m indisposed; explain what’s happening. I need to synthesize a concentrated dose for injection.”

“P.O.P-! Inje-!“ S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. waffled, clearly caught between two thoughts. He had to visibly shake himself free of both. “The shot!”

Donnie addressed him with a cold veneer that barely shielded his waning patience.

“Altering the dosage could have major side effects.” With a bob, you could tell S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was gesturing to the screen.

Donnie turned his attention there and his pupils darted as he read.

“Plus, you’re still operating at 100% effectiveness. Are you sure-?”

“Enough.” Donnie’s eyes closed and even through the feed you could sense the irritation radiating off of him. “Again, it’s conjecture, but we can make an educated guess. I need to ensure there is no failure. Do you understand?”

It was a question, but it clearly wasn’t.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gave a curt nod, but he obviously didn’t agree. With an annoyed swivel, he switched gears. “The suit’s current mechanics have it functioning from a collar.”

It was barely there, but Donnie winced.

“To meet your time restraints, we’ll have to move forward with that design.”

“Do it.”

“Don… Are you going to be-?”

“Dismissed.” Donnie turned.

The footage froze on the image of Donnie departing the table.

Staring at it for several beats, you gave three distinct blinks.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.!”

“Y-yes?!”

“That didn’t explain anything!!”

“It…!” Several windows cycled and then all closed out for an empty purple backdrop. “I’m sorry!”

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. please!” Donnie’s encircling had become a tighter ring and you nervously shuffled where you were being wrangled.

“You arrived-“ There was a whoosh of wood against the frame before the bot darted in through the kitchen window. “-exactly 7 minutes ahead of your projected arrival time!”

“So it’s my fault!?” You tried to take a step, but Donnie nipped you back in place. “Hey!”

“No, it’s just… oh geez he’s… Uh!”

“Breathe and count to ten or something!”

“But I don’t breathe!”

“NOW!”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hovered a little lower before closing his digital lids. He then slowly counted out and you heard the mimic of a breathing exercise.

You waited with what felt like the last bits of your sanity.

“Donnie’s in heat because his turtle brain thinks you’re his mate!” The sentence popped out of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. as he suddenly animated. He then pretended to blow out a sigh of relief. “Look at that! Y/N! It worked!”

“Donnie’s what?!”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. flew over to you while a video with two softshells underwater came up across all the monitors. In a spin, the pair swam around each other before shooting up to the surface and coming back down. You watched without comprehending until you looked down at your boyfriend.

“He’s… trying… to do that?”

The bot shrugged with his rotors.

“He’s not doing a great job.”

“He’s really not.”

“Okay.” You reached up and pressed your finger tips together creating a little cove where you stuck your nose. “Shelly.”

“Back to nickname! Hell yeah!”

“No yeah.”

“Oh.”

Bringing your hands away from your face, you pointed both indexes with the pair pressed flush. “You have to realize that this video.” You renewed the point to the turtle’s on-screen. “Explained more about what is happening-“ You could hear the volume of your voice rising. “-than anything the other did!!!”

 S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. wobbled weakly as if he could barely stay afloat. “I’m… yeah… that is fair, huh?”

Your cheeks hurt from the force of your manic smile.

“We’ve known each other for a lifetime! My lifetime! We say a lot without having to say it, say it!”

“Plus it looked like he was literally bringing references up on the screen!”

“Tha-that too!”

“Why not add those into the video?” 

“I wasn’t ever one for presentations…”

“You have five seconds to collect yourself and then you are going to expand on that insane thing you just said.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shot straight up and had to overcorrect to keep from hitting the ceiling. He then spiraled down and came right up to the radius Donnie had set. “It’s like I said! We have no idea what’s going to happen or what he’s capable of because this has never happened before. This is all a hypothesis and there were parts I didn’t agree with, but now seeing him…”

“Is this like a mating dance?”

“Not… really? Not in that sense. It’s more of a display to see if you’ll be receptive.”

“Huh…”

“Basically, the thing around his neck will immobilize him if he tries anything and, as you heard, there’s a hotel room with your own personal chef waiting for however long this lasts.”

Your head shot up from where you’d gotten lost watching Donnie. “What about him?”

“We’ve planned to fall back on the usual containment reserved for the mutagenic flu.”

“He’s not like that though.” You didn’t need to scrutiny to see his gaze was totally different from stage two of his illness. “The neural link!”

“Yeah, that’s interesting data.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. spun around toward the computer and seemed to pluck the pop-up out of nowhere. He then projected a hologram of it over to you.

You scanned it and read something about how there was a shift in brain waves, but it didn’t seem to be fully disabled as it was previously. “I don’t understand…?”

The screen swapped with one of a live brain scan. In it there were fluctuating colors. “Basically he’s lost his higher capacity. You could say he’s operating on basal instincts.”

“He’s feral, but not fever feral.”

“Sure…? You’re the only one who’s lived to see that up close.”

“And he thinks I’m his…” Your cheeks heated up at the mere thought.

You had shelved that bit before. 

Now it had returned with vengeance for your psyche. 

“Softshells don’t have traditional ‘mates.’ They’ll take as many partners as they can during the height of their mating season.”

“Then that doesn’t make sense…”

“It’s why I was against the thought, but you are also basically the only unique variable. Versus all prior documented years, the options are like you or any changes you caused.”

Donnie slowed in front of you and watched with that nearly all black gaze.

You stared into the abyss.

He rose up and you were caught as he dragged your gaze with his.

“Uh…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hummed nervously.

Your boyfriend leaned in with a curious tilt of his head.

You could feel each time you blinked as it momentarily marred your vision.

It was in such a fall of the lid that he pounced.

You squeaked and your arms made it about halfway up to shield yourself when there was a sudden whoosh of air. Something soft hit you and then there was a bouncing ball noise as it disappeared. Shoving down your appendage shield, you pried your eyes open to find an inflated ball instead of your partner. Purple fabric ballooned around him and caught his arms and legs in nubbins which told you he was strung out inside. Having landed slightly askew, you heard him give a wounded whine and his gaze looked to you with utter betrayal.

“It’s working!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cheered and there was a faint noise of computations.

Ignoring the bot, you were slow to approach Donnie.

From his cocoon, he didn’t even struggle. He simply turned his pained look on you.

It was there you saw the desperation and confusion.

He didn’t understand what was happening.

“Hey, Shelly.”

“Hm?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. buzzed over analyzing Donnie with a red light scan.

Donnie whimpered as it went over his face.

“Did I say ‘yes’ to his display?”

“Hard to say.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had his head down as if he was taking notes. “There’s different ways it goes in nature. You could have either done the ‘dance’ too or just been passive. Males give up relatively easily since the females are way bigger than them.”

“I was passive…”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hummed, clearly distracted.

Donnie’s gaze recovered and refocused on you. He then gave another high pitched whine as if calling out for help.

“Feel free to go about your normal ‘just got home’ routine. I’m going to monitor him a bit and if it all goes well I’ll leave you to it.”

You frowned.

“Unless you’ll feel better if I stayed. I can clear the ole schedule for you!” He motioned like he was pulling out his calendar even though his gaze was trained on Donnie. 

Donnie’s eyes took on a watery quality. 

“I’m so glad it worked.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. murmured to himself, buzzing to the other side of Donnie.

Those black eyes bore into you.

“Let him out.”

“Get take out.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. seemed to repeat back, lost in some process. “You can, mhm.” 

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. release him.”

“Relea-what!?” In a perfect pivot, the droid turned towards you. “No way!”

“Look at him!” You threw your arms out.

“Yeah!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. did a quick glance. “He looks like he’s a wild animal! The eye thing is an optical illusion! They look all big and shiny which you’re genetically disposed to think is cute!”

“That’s not-!” You swallowed your words.

Was that how you felt?

“He’s in pain!” You tried again.

“He’s in heat!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. nearly screamed. “He’s fine!” 

“S.H.E.L.-”

“No!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. looked like he might have actually put his foot down if he had one. “I’m sorry, but there’s no way. We don’t know what he’s capable of. We barely even know what’s happening. I can show you all the medical data over and over; he’s healthy and not in any actual pain. This completely falls in line with your safety protocol. I’ve made my judgment and you’re going to have to find a way to be okay with that.”

You felt like a toddler.

You wanted to screech.

You wanted to protest.

You wanted to throw an all out tantrum right there on the floor.

It was juvenile.

Then you glimpsed Donnie.  

His gaze hadn’t left you once.  

He was waiting. 

He knew who would help him.

Who was there for him. 

You wanted to hold him. You wanted to soothe him and tell him he would be alright. You knew he’d let you. Even without his facilities, you had that trust. You could see his pupils. He was there, only stunted. He needed you. He wanted you. You were supposed to take care of him. He’d allowed it of you. He’d given it to you.

He didn’t know better.

No one did.

Struck by that thought, you rose up and felt a cool façade take over.

It was the calm before the storm.

You were standing in the eye and prepared to walk out into the fierce winds.

Whoever put their faith in mother nature?

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.”

“The answer isn’t going to change.”

“Bypass Protocol Darling: I want you to release him.”

You heard the metaphorical drop.

If S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had been holding something, it would have crashed to the floor.

In an instant, he was in your face.

“RETRACT YOUR STATEMENT NOW!”

You winced at his megaphone volume.

Donnie began to give his angry warning clicks.

“NOW! RIGHT THIS SECOND! WHILE THERE’S STILL TIME! YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT YOU’RE DOING!”

You squeezed a fist so tight your nails cut palm. “Do you need the code too? 143.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. wilted as if you’d ripped his digital heart right out of his casing.

Guilt threatened to swallow you up.

You bit your tongue to keep from giving in.

There was an audible unlatching and both of you stiffened.

In a loud bang, the collar fell from Donnie and he leaped away, scared of the sound. Landing on all fours, he further bristled before he realized he was free. He took several wary steps, before zoning his attention on you.

It looked like gratitude.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. turned back to you, coming in so close you could feel the heat wafting off of him. “Y/N, I beg you. Reconsider.”

“I won’t.”

“Then, I’ll-!”

“You’re going to need to trust me on this.”

“Trust!? You’re swayed by emotion! There’s no way I’m going to-”

“Then leave.”

If you’d already maimed him, that dealt the killing blow.

Digital tears sprouted up in the corners of his eyes before the lines of brows came down with determination. “Y/N…”

He wasn’t going to give up.

You weren’t either. “Bypass-”

“Don’t!”

Donnie needed you. “-Protocol-“

“Please, we can discuss-!”

“-Darling.”

“-there are other options-!”

“I want a complete system override. You will not have access and you will leave.”

“You’re out of your mind…!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. backed up, fearful. “There must be pheromones present. I need to run a scan and-” His eyes disappeared into a line of code and then altogether. Going rigidly straight, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hovered a little higher and then made a mechanical rotation. Without another word, he flew right over to the window where it opened in time for his passing.

Taking a few weak steps after him, you saw his form disappear into the city.

Regret hit you like a tidal wave.

Its tendrils snaked through your mouth and nostrils, cutting off your oxygen supply.

It crushed your lungs and you gave a dry heave.

Why had you done that?

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had access to the entirety of human knowledge.

Hell, he might even have access to all of yokai knowledge too.

You didn’t know.

You couldn’t know.

He was right. 

There was no way to comprehend the depths.

He was the impartial observer.

He was the only one who Donnie considered a true advisor.

You outright rejected that.

You’d spat directly in his face using a directive whose name you hadn’t even known an hour ago.

You’d sent him away.

Him.

Hurt him.

All for what?

Because you had been called Donnie’s mate?

Something his species didn’t even recognize.

Because you were so desperate to have a tie to him that was more than what you already had.

That he needed you more than you needed him.

Something biological.

Unavoidable.

Weren’t you over that?

The crashing depths of your stupidity chorused.

Rational thought drowned.

Leo’s voice hit a solo about your ignorance.

All because despite everything you were still afraid Donnie would leave.

You heard a concerned whimper.

Turning, with tears flicking away at the sudden twist, you saw Donnie.

He was squatting on the floor with the tatters of his own clothes around him. Between his teeth was his own pant leg where he’d apparently been yanking as it was clearly caught on his foot.

The sight of him didn’t make all your injustices suddenly worth it, but it certainly helped.

Walking over to him in a careful way, he tilted his head as you got close. “Need some help?”

Releasing the piece of clothing, his gaze darted. Him seemed to be registering something about you that you couldn’t judge. 

Kneeling down, you were slow to get ahold of his pants, just in case. Once it was clear he wasn’t going to act and kept on watching, you lifted his trapped leg up and got the last of his clothes off.

“How’s that?” You gave a lazy smile, knowing full well he couldn’t reply.

He checked himself over before entering right into your space. You couldn’t help but smile as he butted his head against yours.

“Where’d your bandana go, hm?” You searched the pile for the scrap of purple with one hand while scratching the soft skin between his jaw and neck with the other.

He made a contented noise before pushing further into your person.

Letting him explore you as he seemed to search for something, you caught hold of his wraps. They were torn to pieces as he presumably ripped them off with his teeth. “Ah Don, you aren’t going to like this later…”

The rooting stopped around your collar as he found he couldn’t weasel his way in there. He made a single sharp click before grabbing it with his teeth.

“Ah! Wait-!”

With a sharp yank, he popped the stitches and caused a several inch long tear.

“Donnie!”

Running his nose along your neck, you were forced to tip for him. He leaned further into your space to the point where you had to throw your hands out behind you to keep yourself upright. Trailing down, he found his desired source: one of your long healed bite marks.

He seemed to marvel at it from only centimeters away and your view was clogged with his carapace. Trying not to focus on it, a bit of movement flicked beyond it. Raising up and gently pushing him back where he retreated easily as long as he could stare at his own handiwork, you realized it was the fast wag of his tail. “It can do that?” You whispered to the air.

As if he heard you, he pulled away to look into your eyes.

“Hey.”

In a dip, he headbutted the underside of your chin with far more urgency than before.

“Okay!” You laughed, trying to get a hold of his shoulders. “Is there something you want me to do?”

Having not surfaced, you could feel hot puffs of air as he scented his way down your body. His press insistent, he added force gradually until you relented to lay down. Though you could no longer see it, his tail must have been wagging wildly because his lower body rocked side to side. Craning your neck to watch him, he huffed across the plane of your stomach sending warm waves out as he went lower and lower. With your legs trapped under him there was little to do until his trek forced him to back up. It was around skimming the line of your pants when he finally released you.

Trying to pull your legs up to the side, he caught a knee as it started to bend. He then shoved the pair apart and settled himself between. Titillated at the idea of what his rut entailed, you squeaked as he shoved his snout right into the apex of your sex.

“Fast!” You gasped, the faint trickles of how dumb the word sounded lapping at your ears.

Warmth slowly permeated the layers of fabric there as he drank in the scent greedily. The indiscriminate worming between your thighs caused your hips to push down against him in an involuntary reaction cultivated from the many times he’d eaten you out. He froze at the action and you wondered if that had been the wrong move. Worry lasted only a second as in the next you were airborne and being carried straight to the bed. In an angry shouldering, he shoved the semi-sheer canopy draping away to get inside. He then dropped you unceremoniously onto the bed before climbing in himself.

Catching sight of the way the drapes fell behind him had a menacing quality. Mentally sweeping the thought away, you found there was a similar struggle happening physically. With hefty mitts dragging over your shoulders, it took you a moment to realize Donnie was fighting your clothes and not with you. Ready to urge him back so you could help the process, he instead got a mouthful of the fabric around your stomach. Knowing it was too late, he tugged and the first distinct difference in his heat hit you. Having never given too much thought to how much care he usually exerted, the Donnie that ripped your clothes off on occasion did far more than you ever gave him credit for. He understood material construction and went for weak points that would make them painlessly come away.

This Donnie knew none of those things.

His pull was fruitless at first, only succeeding in yanking your whole body up off the bed to dangle from the harness that was now your shirt. You waffled there, trying to get traction against smooth sheets. When he tossed his head like a dog with a toy, he whipped side to side with you helplessly caught in the middle. The momentum chaffed and pinched until you wrangled one of your arms up with the intention to pry him free. Only then did he seem to gain some kind of awareness and growled. Not deterred, you neared him when he put his foot down in the form of a hand pushing down on your stomach. The sudden force caused oxygen to leave you. Open palm punched in the gut, you bounced as you hit the bed and the force caused the shirt to rip. It wasn’t without its collateral as you could feel the rug burn leaving lined rashes in its wake.

With a fling of his head the shirt was gone and Donnie’s gaze oozed darkness.

In a near comical motion, you shared eye contact before both dropping your gaze to your pants. 

“No!” You screeched, turning to flee.

He caught you by the hips and with a slip his fingers found your waistband. Knowing he couldn’t have done that on purpose, you almost thanked the new position as you shimmied your hips. You’d hoped it would help you wiggle out of the bottoms, but instead it caused Donnie to claw in an attempt to hold on. His nails burned as he hadn’t the sense to hold back and you cried out at the drag.Released at the sound, the push and pull of the struggle sent you rolling toward the headboard.

Blinking to catch your bearings, Donnie had no such ailment and was back on you before you could recover. The moment of freedom had given you free control of limbs and you tried to swat him away so you could at least get your fly down. The mechanism was lost on him as he groped for a good hand hold. Locating one in the pockets, you were again lifted off the mattress.

“Oh, come on!”

With the height leveraging your hips, your torso fell as Donnie yanked anew. The fabric bunched and bit right into the crease of your ass and you hissed out at the pinch. Having been unintentionally closer to the seam, the stitching popped, but not in the way he wanted. Struggling, he pulled from the sides until the shreds could no longer support your weight. You dropped again and stiffened in preparation. It increased your bounce height and jolted Donnie who tried to palm you down again as if you were the one acting unruly. This time he struck his weight down near your hip which caused you to involuntarily kick. It hit the top of his knee and he yelped as you felt exactly how it came in contact with his cap.

Retreating slightly like a wounded predator, Donnie circled. 

Looking over the carcass, he narrowed in on your underwear. Hasty and not about to be impaled by underwire, your hands flew behind your back to undo your bra. Getting it free, he only showed his appreciation by knocking you over. Instantly trying to right yourself, you got enough height to watch as he slid a testing finger through the thin fabric of your underwear. Having flashbacks of terrible sitcoms, your hands flew out and just barely missed the moment he gave a swift tug. Wedgied and humiliated, this bit of cotton was never meant to support weight. It snapped near instantly but not without leaving an bitter scorch in its wake.

Hips falling for the third time, you used the bounce to sit up. Donnie met you there and flipped you right over. Squirming as he applied far too much pressure with the heels of his palms along your sides, he got ahold of your hips. They rose to his liking and you were forced to get your arms under you if you were to have any modicum of control. Wriggling in an attempt to adjust, you felt the tip of his cock center to your entrance. Freezing and flexing your muscles involuntarily to cut him off, a single booming thought echoed in your mind.

You weren’t ready.

The only time he’d stoked the embers had been during his scenting and since then had been indignity on top of annoying pain.

“W-wait, you can’t-!” Trying to crawl on your hands, your fingers slid against the sheets helplessly as he held you firm. “Donnie!!”

Once again falling on deaf tympanum, he simply squeezed his response.

It came in a crushing force to your hips that nearly diverted all thought. It wasn’t an exact pain and instead a whine as the bones under his grip were subjected to an immense amount of pressure. A high pitched worry came off your lips and he relented as his piping hot tip pressed into you. Suddenly very aware of the original issue, you resisted moving for fear he’d crush your Ilium. In a fumbling swipe of his cock, you felt a thorough slick spread.

Confused, you had to see what caused it. Still cautious of retreat, you did the only action you could think of and dropped your head down. Looking through the undercarriage of your body, there wasn’t much to see at first. Snippets of his legs through yours was about it until he cock dropped into view. Having missed your entrance again, you realized why as he wasn’t using his hands to guide. They were instead preoccupied holding you still and he was trying to manage his erection on its firmness alone. Momentarily down, his cock pearled a seemingly constant stream of pre-cum. Struck by the sheer leaky volume, you gawked even after his member disappeared to try you again. Feeling the tip of glans hook your entrance, his third attempt was successful and he sank straight down to the hilt. 

Punched in the stomach for the second time tonight, you wheezed as it was all too fast. The pinch, the burn, and the very heat of him cauterized whatever wounds he left in his wake. Struggling to push him off for even a little relief, he instead came down like a wall around you. Pressing you flat to the bed, your face slammed into the mattress due to momentum. Turning to gasp and greedily suck down oxygen, Donnie wasn’t withholding his weight and the whole of his body crushed you. Limbs flailing out of the vice, you felt his head come near. Thinking he was checking on you and you could translate something, you turned in time as teeth sank into your shoulder.

All the other times he’d bitten you were coy in comparison.

Teeth striking sinew, the sound that came out of you burned your throat. Tears immediately started flowing in time as his jaw locked in place. Utterly trapped and wilting under an inferno, his hips moved. In yet another terrible disclosure, you found that even the times he’d supposedly lost control were metered. What was happening now was a skewering whose only saving grace was his force made your innards numb from the onslaught. Gone was the partner that prioritized your pleasure and what was left was a selfishness to reproduce with not a single care for the vessel.

Sobbing, your reaction was relegated to your face alone as everything else was swallowed up by him. Salt tinted your tongue and his head knocked against yours only because the force of his hips rocked the whole of you. Thought burned from your mind and your coffin was nailed shut. Alive and trapped, you buried your face into the sheets and begged for a quick release.

Your luck had always been dodgy, but it arrived just as he did. 

He came without pretext.

There had been no build-up of the knot and instead he simply stopped thrusting. With only a split second reprieve, a sudden force shoved all your innards further than he was buried. Choking as it ushered bile into your throat, you were drowned by the velocity of his seed. Keenly feeling its exertion, you found strength to dig your nails into the sheets and howl. Spurts continued in near endless shockwaves and the volume was becoming increasingly worrisome. Panicked thoughts said there had to be an end, but his cock just kept pumping you full. Feeling the density in your lower abdomen and only dizzyingly wondering if bulging was possible, the hose stopped with just about as much warning as it started.

Sniveling and feeling worse for it, he unlatched from where your shoulder had gone worryingly numb. The shift in teeth further disturbed the wound and you watched blood stain the sheets. Wrung out, you heard a confused trill as Donnie nosed you. You spurned him with a turn of your head and he made a soft wounded sound. Bitter and wanting him to stew in it, you felt tears continue to streak your cheeks. Wrangling a hand in to scrub at your raw skin, you felt his weight shift on your back. It took a little effort and, much like a large dog thinks they’re small, he had to press further down on you before he got himself up. The drop in weight meant solace didn’t come and you were left splattered on the mattress.

It took several drags of your elbows before you got them close enough to your body to press. The one under your injured left shoulder gave immediately and you ended up in a half rise. Shaking and trying to get more height, your torso moved the chain of your body which eventually tipped your hips. It was there through the endless string of leaking cum, that you felt he was still rock hard.

Eyes widening in horror, you let your bad arm give and used the drop to overlook your other shoulder. Donnie was a curved seal above you, with his arms prominent muscular sticks. His hips were glued to your ass where, even though you couldn’t see, you could very much feel how you were both still very much connected. Dully looking him over, he watched you with a near wary stare. Brows and mouth scrunching in confusion, you weren’t sure what he was waiting for. 

Frowning, you forced your lips in line. “What?”

A chirpy sort of noise came from him.

“You sound like a bird.” You grouched, turning away.

Running a hand overtop your head, you winced to examine your shoulder. It looked like something out of a zombie movie and you nearly gagged. Shuffling again to get your body up, you heard another bewildered trill from your partner.

“I don’t know, Don.” Your voice dripped with malice. “Maybe-” Anger planted your elbows. “-it-” With a shove you got upright. “-was-” In a sway, you had to hold your weight on your good side to stay that way. “-you! Did you ever think of that?!”

The next sound he made was almost like a protest. 

“Stupid.” You grunted.

As much as you willed it to be for him, it was actually for you.

This should have happened sooner.

You grimaced.

It wasn’t the punishment itself, but the karmic justice.

You’d been playing with fire for far too long.

He’d tried to warn you. 

You ignored it. 

You tempted fate every chance you got.

Had you always been this way?

Had you just been the wrong version of lucky?

Had this man really appeared in your life only to alter the very course of your existence?

How very woe is me. 

Weak, but wanting to get away from the thoughts and situation, you garnered a little forward movement. Retribution still had claws in you because the stodgy action rocked you back.

Into him.

Onto him.

A rumbling thunder wafted off of him until he cut it off with a testing buck of his hips.

That was it.

You’d accidentally signaled green a second time.

What came next broke into fragments.

The renewal of your shoulder mark.

The unrelenting thrust of his cock.

The abysmal lack of care.

There was one change. 

You could breathe.

That last one didn’t occur until the last moment. Unable to think of much else with him attempting to fuck you out of existence, you only realized you weren’t squished flat until you were. His drop came with the nozzle turn on his fire hose of cum. Whining, he trapped you under him to take another insane load. With the same momentum, the new batch forced the old one out. Drenching your legs, you tried to shudder, but the press of his plastron branded your spine.

He was slower to rise. Still, you were given that same space and he sounded off far more confusing bird noises. This time your energy was truly depleted and your response came via lying in a soiled pool. Wondering if maybe he’d leave you be with passivity, you vaguely remembered S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s explanation. Groaning at the thought and how much you missed the droid, you tried to move, but found you couldn’t. Fresh tears leaked and you agonized to even rotate your head.

It was there, Donnie snout appeared. His movement signaled his erection had yet to go down and you screwed your eyes shut at the thought. You felt a dart of wet heat against your salt chilled skin and it pulled the string on the curtain of your lids. In your face, was his enlarged stare and his tongue retreating into his mouth.

“Did you lick my tears?” You rasped.

His head tilted and nosed you with the most care yet. 

It wasn’t a single prod and instead several little bops as if he was trying to get a better look at you.

You shook your head to turn away.

Worry sounded and you felt a hand at your back. It wasn’t dead weight, but a gentle pressure as he checked something. You couldn’t make sense of it until his fingers curled under your ribs. His other hand joined the first and you were being hoisted up. A flood rushed between your legs at the angle and in it, he shifted within you. Stomach bottoming out and knowing what that’d cause, you felt a vibration in his chest as his hips twitched. Arms lost, you made fists as your only means to hold onto your sanity.

Nails biting into your palm, you felt his hot breath singe the bite. Shoulders tensing as you awaited another tear of flesh, warmth enveloped it instead. Teetering on delirium, you turned the little you could to see his head similarly in position. He was fucking into you, but you felt detached from your lower body. Sending all your brain power towards solving the puzzle, you felt a swipe and saw a replay of his tongue darting back into his mouth.

He was cleaning your wound.

Not sure what to make of that, the bounce of your body meant the bottom of your breasts beat his hands from where they had a hold of your rib cage. It bred an odd sensation as he seemed to lick in time with his thrusts. The heat felt oddly good and you lolled like a rag doll back against him. There you could see the lining of the canopy bed. You and Donnie had hung those drapes what felt like eons ago, if it ever happened at all.

Your life felt condensed down to only this moment. 

He came a third time. 

You imagined he was made of cum.

He had cum for brains.

All those bulging muscles were cum storage tanks much like a camel.

It was the only explanation as to where he was keeping it all.

It leaked from where he tried to stuff it in you, without anywhere else to go. 

Your head rolled down as he adjusted you.

Now staring down the length of your body, you vaguely remembered the bulge. 

Your stomach looked rounded, but you also couldn’t remember what it looked like before.

Numbed, it was moistened lips that brushed your cheek in a nuzzle which brought you to. 

Eyes shooting wide, you were smacked with a thought.

Each time he came, he was a little clearer.

“Do-?” Your voice shattered.

You couldn’t swallow the residuals.

Coughing on the shards, you started to wonder if the salt you tasted had only been your tears.

Sweat hadn’t been a consideration with all your sensory neurons firing wildly.

As if sensing you were onto higher thought, your blood pressure dropped. Wondering if shock was a thing, you drooped where you were laying down as a black vignette tried to swallow you up like Donnie’s pupils. Tinnitus rang its bell and the reverb held onto it like a tuning fork. Movement happened or it was the rustle of your body unwinding. You were made of paper and being shredded for use in a nest. It would be bedding for some creature; a comfort you were not afforded.

Ice cold water hit your cheek and you screeched awake.

Animated, your body retaliated, but you refused its rage. Finding you could move freely, you pulled all of you as close as possible. Your hips screamed as you folded them to put your knees to your chest. Your shoulder growled as you wrapped your arms around said stems to keep them from escaping. You trapped your seething core behind a door of your feet.

Across from you Donnie watched in a stoop.

You took him in with the head twitches of a canary.

In his hand was what looked like a wet bowl. Tracing a drip of water as it fell to the bed, you saw the darkened spot where it had spilled. You vaguely registered he must have been trying to get the liquid to your lips when you’d jolted away and presumably dumped the thing. Only wondering how he’d gotten the tap or cabinets to work, you then took in his expression. 

It was open worry and unabashed fear.

That seemed impossible and your brow came down as an out of place swing got your attention. Tracing down Donnie’s body to it, you found his cock dangling between his legs. You weren’t sure if it was actually irritated or just the fact that it was out, but it looked inflamed.

Not given the time you examine, in a blink, he was gone.

Staring at where the canopy drapes were swinging back together, you could barely make out his form in the kitchen. There, you heard the loud crinkling of a water bottle before there was a gush as if it exploded. Not even entertaining the thought of moving, you saw his form return and he nosed into the curtains, snout first. His head then entered cautiously before he crawled up onto the bed with a freshly filled bowl. He then set it near you and shrank down, looking between you and it.

A part of you raged at obeying him, but it was squashed under incredible thirst. Moving wary only for a second, you hungrily snatched the bowl up and glimpsed him careening away from your movement. The bowl felt soothing in your grip and you palmed it with two hands to bring it up. As if tasting water for the first time, the ice cold liquid acted as a balm for your insides. Greedy on the first sip, you chugged and the overflow ran down your chin. Angles of your collarbone brought some of the water to your wound and you twitched at the pain.

It caused you to swallow wrong and, in coughing, Donnie appeared at your side. You shrank away from him and he lowered until he was nearly laying on the bed. Gawking at his display, the bowl came down between you. He lifted his head only enough to see inside it before glancing to where he’d exited the bed.

You cleared your throat before testing it. “La…ter?”

Comprehension wasn’t obvious, but still he darted away.

Staring again at swaying drapes, you gave up figuring out what he was up to and instead watched yourself thumb over some water on the outside of the bowl. It streaked and you made a soothing windshield wiper motion. Distracting by it, you only faintly registered he’d returned when there was a movement against the mattress.

Relenting only because nothing else came, you looked up in time to watch him drop a protein bar from his open jaw. It landed perfectly between you and he scurried back some as if to give you space to grab it.

You cocked a brow.

Unwilling to unfurl just yet, you rotated your body with a wince. Facing the object, you wondered how he’d gotten it. Not only was it in one of the upper kitchen cabinets, but it had also been in a box. He’d somehow gotten it over here and, from the looks of it, the wrapper was still in tact. 

Donnie made a worried noise and dropped to the bed again. Unsure, you lay your chin on your knees and watched as he dipped his snout into the sheets. Edging up to the bar, he then used it as a wedge and with an upward flick, the thing rolled a little closer to you. He ended the action with a trill and then returned to his far corner.

Now that you thought about it, you hadn’t eaten since lunch. You weren’t really hungry, but after an extra fiddle with the bowl, you finally set it down. Reaching out methodically, you caught the edge of the bar’s wrapper and pinched. Bringing the object in, Donnie repeated his last sound and it was one you identified as encouragement. Not checking with him, you peeled a corner open and took a small bite.

There was a clear rhythmic thump that must have been Donnie’s tail.

Glancing at your partner, you wondered if that had ever happened before. It wasn’t something you recalled and you felt pretty strongly that you would have noticed if it had. Your track record said otherwise, but you swept the annoying thought under a proverbial rug.

Taking another bite, you tried not to linger on his dangling dick. It was hard not to as you hadn’t seen one in who knows how long. You’d gotten used to the compact nature of him and seeing it out seemed wrong. Chewing, you moved on to take further stock of your surroundings. The blood stain on the bed wasn’t as big as you had imagined it. As if remembering it was injured, your shoulder throbbed. Frowning, you wondered if you’d be allowed to leave the bed. You needed some kind of ploy and uncoiling just a little caused one of your toes to brush the cold bowl.

The shock came twofold as you hit the bottom of the wrapper before realizing you’d eaten the whole bar. Thinking that was probably a good thing, you crinkled the foil and finished the last chews. Across from you Donnie bobbed slightly, trying to get a better look at you. Bringing your head up so he could see and calm down, he tensed. Shaking your head, you reached for the bowl.

“Can I get a refill?” You held it out to him.

His eyes only broke from you to glance at the bowl a single time. 

Otherwise, he was a statue of nerves.

He’d seemed eager to do it before.

Tapping the side of it, you tried to think. The balled wrapper crinkled as you moved and you gave it a passing glance. Setting the bowl down near where he’d dropped the bar, you ignored the faint protests of your body before returning to your spot.

In a flash, Donnie swiped up the bowl and left.

Not realizing you were about to hit the button on a stopwatch, you realized now was the time to make for your exit. Abdomen burning and excess cum still leaking, you managed to get to your feet. You heard the crinkling of plastic and hobbled as quickly as you could to the bathroom. Coming down from the burst of speed, you held your breath as you closed the door at a torturous pace. You were rewarded with a near silent click as the lock fell into place before you slumped against the sink.

In your periphery, your ghost in the mirror was a haunting one. Not giving them the time, you bent with a few pained zaps to get the first aid kit. It seemed painfully kismet that you’d either not been wholly present or weren’t really paying attention the other times Donnie had dressed your bites. You at least knew splashing hydrogen peroxide on wasn’t the way and reached for the tap. Just as your fingertips brushed the metal, you heard a panicked yip from the adjacent room.

“Here!” You called before you could stop yourself.

Inflating your cheeks in frustration, you flicked the tap angrily.

It wasn’t like you were trying to escape and he could easily break down the door if he wanted.

There was a curious chirp along with something brushing against the wood.

Instinct told you to open the door.

Why?

He’d only been a threat.

Hadn’t he?

Your hand was on the knob.

The rush of water drowned out the rest of your thoughts.

He made that worried sound.

Unlocking the door, you awaited alarm bells. 

There was only a silent expanse as you turned the handle.

Opening the door revealed Donnie crouched low with the filled bowl in his hands.

Leaving the door open, you returned to the sink. A curious sound chased you as you tested the water. It was far too hot now and you adjusted the other tap to get the temperature to a mid point. Soon adjusted, you did your best hunch to get your shoulder over the sink. The first water you splashed on it was pure agony. The next dulled as receptors went to work transferring unknown signals in your body. Using mild soap, you carefully cleaned the wound. Knowing you’d have to be at this for the next few minutes, you adjusted your stance to hold yourself up. 

When you finished, you had to shatter through the stiffness of your spine to locate a towel. Sacrificing the one nearest you, you took a small step back only to bump into something firm. Searching the ground, you found Donnie with his back to you neatly curled up. He looked very much like he was keeping watch so you left him to the task as you blotted your wound dry. It wept disrupted cells and you got hold of antibacterial ointment. Slathering it on and not having the time or steady hand to do the stitches you clearly needed, you then piled on gauze. Slapping on a cover to hold it all together, you made a move to step over your guard dog.

He animated first and scurried away, but not far. He watched from beyond the door frame and you found he’d left the water bowl behind. Scooping it up and lazily trailing back to the bed, you drank from it with one hand. It felt weirdly empowering as you parted the curtains and sat. Your core sore, you tipped further onto your ass and watched as Donnie trailed over to you, but continued to keep a certain distance.

Imagining how prolonged stress must have been wearing on him, you still couldn’t understand why. It was only you and you couldn’t remember having done anything to frighten him. The opposite was true and you’d only really passed out. It’s not like he’d cared much for your wellbeing prior to that. Taking another swig until the bowl was almost drained, you ruminated on how small he looked. It was odd how he could get that big body into such a low, submissive position.

Blinking, you sat up a little and he twitched.

“Wait… Are you…?” You leaned forward and he dropped further in time.

In a dart of his eye, he searched you.

Feeling the need to press, you reached out.

He flinched.

You’d seen that before.

It had been a long while.

He wasn’t scared of you.

He was scared for you.

It felt ridiculous that you hadn’t put it together considering you’d already realized that each consecutive nut had been giving him a sort of clarity. It was S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s description that had thrown you off. Donnie was acting on basal instincts, but you now knew why S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hadn’t fully agreed to the feral description. Donnie still knew things; he was simply in an animalistic state. Through minor changes, his apartment was constructed exactly as it had been for years. It’d be second nature to know what cabinet the snacks were in or how extra water bottles were on the door of the fridge.

Setting the bowl aside, you stared at him in a new light.

Each time he came, he’d found more and more wounds. Sorting your memories and trying to peel back the negative layer, you saw his worry increase. Then you’d passed out and there was no way that didn’t activate a painful core memory for him. There was a similarly stained milestone in your relationship and here he didn’t even have the ability to self-soothe. Instead he was fighting tooth and nail against mating instincts to care for you as much as he could. 

At least, that’s what his reddened member said.

It caught you in a terrible split.

What he had done was patently not okay.

That he had no control wasn’t his fault. 

It also didn’t erase what was done.

It felt similar to how’d you’d agreed to all this without knowing. 

Trapped and feeling shitty about everything, you couldn’t help but want him.

It was another catch-22. 

He’d hurt you.

He was the source of your comfort. 

Confused and dwelling on exaggerating your misery, you reached out to him. 

He watched, unaware of your internal struggle.

“I can’t really move to you…” The thought of getting on your knees sounding like agony, but you weren’t sure how else to beckon a wild animal. “Will you come here?” You extended a little more. “Please?”

He leaned in like he would for a moment before he took a whole step back.

“Donnie…”

Wary of your prolonged attention, he began to round the bed.

Feeling very alone, you slipped behind the canopy and pulled at the edges of the top sheet. Donnie passed, curious, as you wrangled the sheet from beneath you. It freed from its corners and you pulled until the bundle wadded up in your lap. There you found the blood had only partially seeped to the fitted layer. Thinking on it, you felt the weight of the mattress shift. Looking over your good shoulder, found Donnie immediately stiffening as if you’d caught him. Giving him a quick once over, he didn’t seem like he was attempting to initiate anything so you gestured to the ball of cotton. “I’m checking the stain.” 

He viewed the item with a stretch of his neck before he circled.

You stayed still just in case, but he seemed more interested in something else. In a turn, he found a corner and caught the sheet with his teeth. Giving it a viscous pull, you weren’t really holding on so it came away from you easily. You then watched as he did some furious wrestling with it before proudly parading around you. It took several laps until he was satisfied, but Donnie mounded the fabric in a loose pool around you. He then backed into his corner and sat with minor wincing as he had to move his cock out of the way to do so comfortably.

“A nest?” You wondered, adjusting the embankment.

He made a faint chirpy noise.

This was probably meant to be comfort, but it wasn’t the kind you were hoping for. “Don…?”

Another acknowledging trill came.

Carving out some space with a kick, you gestured to the nest. “Come here.”

His brow ridge came down and you found him looking at what you’d done to his work with a form of frustration.

“Here.” You pointed to the divot.

His head lowered and there was a sour quality to his lips.

“You know what? I’m going to chase you if you don’t get your butt over here.”

He chuffed.

“I will. I don’t care if it hurts; I’ll get you.”

He simply watched with wrinkled features.

You made a sudden jolt as one would when trying to rile up a dog.

He hackles rose and he bumped one of the metal bars supporting the canopy. It made the bed shake which sent his gaze darting around with wild worry.

“Hey!”

He snapped back to you with a similar speed.

“Come. Now.” You pointed with more ferocity.

In a slow lowering of his gaze, you could tell he was having some kind of debate. It was a far cry from his usual ones as it was resolved quickly and ended with him inching forward. In a crawl, he approached you low and slow. Like a scared dog, you metered your movements and offered your hand again. This time he didn’t shy away, but leaned into it with a near constant flick between looking at it and checking in with you. When he was close enough, you were able to graze your knuckles against his cheek.

The reaction was instantaneous, he blew out with a decompression-like noise that sounded similar to when a screaming kettle is removed from the heat. Even through the single point of contact, you could feel just how tightly he was wound. Allowing him to watch your movement, you got your hand rotated and skirted his jaw. The muscles there felt like they were about to pop and his eyes shed a layer of anxiety to show a deep desperation. It all pointed to struggle and you could only imagine it was his instincts.

“I wish you could hold me…” You whispered, your other hand twitching as you resisted bringing it up. “Tell me everything's alright and that you’ll fix all this.” 

Donnie caught the movement and lingered on it, unhearing.

You turned the brush into a bare scritch.

It took several minutes, but he soon had the weight of his head against your hand.

“You don’t have to attack, do you? Just move nice and slow.”

He gave another injured whine before moving a little bit closer while taking momentary pauses to check with you.

You nodded affirmatively each time.

As he closed in, he dropped his chin right on where your other hand had been resting on your thigh.

“Almost there…” You whispered, giving what you hoped were soothing shushing noises.

He flopped into his side and you caught how he had to hold one of his legs up so as not to brush his dick.

“Does it hurt?” With both hands you scratched under his chin until his eyes drifted shut. Staring at his member and the weak bob that kept his leg up, you imagined it had to. That was skin that wasn’t meant to be exposed for so long. You idly wondered if there was some issue that was keeping it out. The thought was immediately dispelled as he was clearly still half erect. 

Still curious, one of your hands began to drift down his plastron towards it.

On high alert, he popped up and nipped at you while moving his lower half away.

“Hey…” You fussed, keeping your voice low. A pull in the muscles of your nethers pulsed in time with your heart. “It doesn’t have to hurt. In fact, it normally doesn’t…”

Not a full alarm, but a warning flashed in your mind.

It seemed impossible you could even think about sex. 

You shouldn’t want it. 

Not after what happened and especially not with this version of your partner. 

He was doing everything in his power to prevent that. 

In all actuality, you really needed to get him to sleep so you could go get that P.O.P. collar. 

With him actually subdued, you could start some real damage control. 

Were you still going to ignore the sensible option?

“Come back…” You urged, offering your hands again.

You could now easily see his struggle. 

He needed to breed so badly it was hurting him. 

Need and resistance swirled in two forces that threatened to consume him.

“Donatello, come to me.” You adjust where you were kneeling to beckon him.

There was a deep throbbing ache that warned you.

Though the fight made his head wobble, he came forward shivering.

This time when you got your hands under his chin, you quickly sent them further to cradle his neck. Feeling the smooth scar tissue there, you traced it.

He made a heady noise that warbled as he tried to swallow it. His lids rolled in a fight to shut.

Rising on your knees, you gave a gentle tug that held no force.

Between your legs pinged an alert like a sonar.

He came in the closest he had in what felt like hours.

“It doesn’t have to hurt.” You told both of you.

He gave a worried chirp that made his head bob.

Making an obvious show of it, you brushed your lips over his forehead.

Two consecutive chirps sounded in something akin to noises you heard from dozing pigeons.

You wanted him.

The thought struck you so hard, its explosion cleared the battlefield of your mind.

You shouldn’t.

By all accounts, it was wrong.

Your body was screaming as much; trying to dissuade you from coaxing the beast. 

You still had a feeling.

You’d already had many of those.

They were dangerous inkling with no facts behind them.

That was wrong.

No, it wasn’t.

It hadn’t always been bad.

This decision wasn’t clouded by unfounded confidence like before.

It wasn’t what had gotten you into this mess.

It was what you knew and that was Donnie.

You saw… something in me…

If you just tried again you could erase it.

That wasn’t possible.

It could help.

It could make it worse.

This wasn’t some fix.

How could he help?

He did this.

He hurt you.

He was your mate.

You took care of each other.

In a gentle push, your fingers had made it to his plastron.

Nearly dozing, Donnie’s blown pupils surfaced.

“Just a little…” You gave a little more force, directing him.

Chirping with a sort of understanding, Donnie backed up.

It reminded you of a strange slow dance as he neared the edge of the bed. 

He checked there before exiting and dropping low to the floor.

You hadn’t needed him to renew his submissive display, but it was a good sign.

He was still aware.

With minor strain, you reached and pulled the canopy apart so it wouldn’t be in the way. You then sat on the edge of the mattress and felt lingering muscle protests as you got your legs dangling off. Ever so slightly parted, you motioned for Donnie to return.

He looked you up and down and made a sharp click.

“It’s going to work. I know it.”

He hadn’t once smiled or frowned and you weren’t sure he could, but there was a downward tug on his lips.

“Please.” You steeped your tone with entreatment.

He was unconvinced.

Steeling the muscles in your stomach, you felt your throat. Tightening as best you could, you imagined the sound before you attempted it. What came out was a sorry excuse for one of his wounded whines.

Whatever it was translated because his eyes went as large as dinner plates.

He was upon you in an instant, eyes raking over you with panicked worry. You showed him your hands, which he passed over as he clumsily caught your forearms. There he pulled you a bit as he searched your body for the source of your pain. With him, distracted, you got a hold of his head.

He froze and sent his dark gaze into your face.

Still not at all used to making the noise, you gave what you hoped was a confirming chirp.

He sounded one colored in his own confusion.

Leaning in with what felt like slow motion, you pressed your lips to his.

When he couldn’t kiss back, you weren’t surprised. 

Undeterred, you simply renewed the press to confused lips before pulling away enough to see him.

He searched your face.

Hands trailing down, you kissed the corner of his mouth before nuzzling against him as he had you.

That was a gesture he understood and he returned it with faint hesitation.

Getting near where his plastron narrowed, your hands split to each grab one edge of the front. You there you carefully reeled him in while piling on distracting kisses and nuzzles.

With only a few weary protests as he was clearly enjoying the attention, you got him between your legs.

There he stiffened with realization and his palms flew down to either side of you on the bed. He yanked his face away from your barrage and made several threatening clicks.

You shook your head and wished you knew what a sound for comfort was. There was that trilling noise, but that had sounded more like a greeting or attention.

He was pulling away.

You tightened your grip and painted your face to plead. “Donnie, please. Stay.”

He didn’t understand.

Keeping one hand hooked to his plastron the other came up to guide his cheek. You tried to kiss him to translate though it had fallen on deaf ears before.

A sliver broke through. 

You could hear his resolve waning in his whine.

Sensing he’d stay in place, the hand holding his waist drifted lower.

You drank in non-reactive lips with a headier press until you reached his member.

The faintest touch of your digits caused him to violently lurch. The bed dipped around you, forcing you to plant your feet on the ground to keep from sliding off. His jaw dropped and you heard him blow out a large huff of air that tickled your clavicle.

The muscles in your ass tensed nervously as you waited with a mantra.

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

He rose with a weak wobble to look at you, very much betrayed and seemingly near tears.

You kissed him again and almost imagined him returning it. “You’re so good, Don. Slow, slow.”

Getting a hold of his member, you heard the clear noise of the sheets ripping on either side of you. With a loose grip, you stilled and whispered sweet reassurances against his cheek.

He panted openly, barely hanging on, while you kept urging him with your voice.

Time as a concept had broken down to nothing more than this room. When he rose, having conquered his current bout, you had no idea how long it’d been. You pecked a line of kisses along his jaw and cooed your happiness in an exaggerated way.

He took it in with a ragged look and rested his forehead against your cheek.

You leaned weight there before shifting your grip on him. Back at full salute, you guided his cock closer.

He tensed around you, head lowering to watch what you were doing.

Crowded by him, it marred your vision so you closed your eyes to line him up.

As soon as his heated tip brushed your lips, your whole body coiled. It wasn’t pain exactly, but a reminder of how swollen and sore you were. You felt Donnie move from your shoulder and, before you could do anything, his hand came between your sexes. Still not exact in his motor skills, the back of his appendage brushed your sex as he used it to create a barrier.

“Donnie-” You began to protest, but the touch sent a zap of electricity through you. 

He gave a single sharp click and half glared at you.

It felt very much like he was gloating. 

“It’s…”  You had to think. 

Hooking your knees around his thighs, you meant to keep him from retreating. 

Whatever was going on in his head, he did wait. 

Having bought yourself time, you figured you were in for a much needed examination. 

“Stay…” You tried to lean into him for a kiss, but he pulled away.

Your lips turned down knowing he was at a current state of having made up his mind.

“Just… don’t go…” You mumbled. With one hand going to his plastron to steady yourself, the other dipped between your legs and brushed his hand. He moved it only slightly, but it gave you enough room to slip your fingers into your folds. Puffy and irritated, the outer labia had been rubbed raw by friction. Testing a digit inside found you ultimately dry and tender around the first ring of flesh. Past that though, you hooked a finger as best you could and didn’t find as much pained tissue as you would have thought. Pulling out and sinking back, you huffed a sigh.   

Donnie held that self-satisfied air, but you were sure it was a construct of your mind.

Tapping his hard chest, you slowly lit up with an idea.

Unhooking your legs, you pushed him so you could fully sit upright. He took a retreating step as you dove for the nightstand. The rummage was fast as he always kept it nearby and you came away with a bottle of lube.

Donnie’s brow ridge dipped and he seemed to test the air.

Thinking it probably had the faint scent of sex on it, you poured an excess into your hand. Tossing the bottle aside, you clasped it within your other to warm it up. Probably having not waited long enough, you scooped the lube up into your dominant hand and dipped it between your legs. Twitching at the chill, you used two fingers to slide it through your abused lips. Acting as a sort of balm, you spread your legs wider and gently eased your entrance. The prodding helped and in an upward climb, you brushed your clit. The tingles of a positive sensation was, but it was a harsh cry from pleasure. Instead, it felt like soothing weathered nerves. You held all the control and comfort in the literal palm of your hand. Doing wide rolling sweeps just to hold onto the feeling, your head drifted back where you glimpsed your partner.

Your hand stilled.

Not realizing it, you had been putting on quite the show.

Donnie stood as a looming form, only a few steps away. His posture screamed horror movie with his head hunched down between his shoulders. Speaking to something NC-17, his cock was honed in on you with near malicious intent. At some point the stream of pre-cum had started back up and it oozed like a leaky faucet. Having pooled on the floor, it was in tracing it that you caught his fingers flexing. 

Eyes screwing shut and waiting for an impact, you were still glad for your decision to raid the nightstand.

If time did exist, it wasn’t with a second hand.

When nothing came you slowly cracked one lid open at a time to find your boyfriend was statuesque.

Studying him closely revealed more; his face was an odd portrait where his eyes were hypnotized by your sex. Around that though, his features were screwed up in what was obviously pain. The body language that had just seemed ominous now read withheld. His digits were pumping out from where he was routinely clawing his palms.

It was all an exercise in control.

He was fighting against his instinct with every fiber of his being.

Even with that beautiful mind of his buried, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt you again.

The throb that went through you moved away from preclusion and toward titillation.

Still absently stroking yourself, you reached your free hand out to him. When he didn’t move, you called with that trill noise.

It moved on his head where he unintentionally tried to answer.

“Come.”

He hesitated before taking a shaky step to the side.

Following him with your outstretched hand, you felt the stirrings between your legs. “Donnie, come here.”

He still hadn’t broken eye contact with your sex, but he made a wide arc to get beside you. He hunched there fighting to pull his gaze away and losing.

Drunk off his attention, you went to caress his cheek when he got into reach.

Animating out disgust, he shuddered and jerked away from you.

You’d forgotten about the slick and had smeared lube onto him.

“Ack, sorry!”

If that wasn’t a sign he was still partially himself, you weren’t sure what was. 

He whined as if mortally wounded and reached up to wipe it. It was at the last moment he thought better and whipped his head as if that could get it off.

“H-here, wait.” Looking down, you saw where he’d shredded the sheets and used a flap to clean your hand off. You then tugged a strip free and held it up.

He sneered at it before leaning fighting himself to lean in. You wiped him clean with a dry spot and he chuffed, annoyed.

“I’m sorry.” You honeyed your voice.

He took the metaphorical scent of it and dropped to his knees to nuzzle you. You could almost hear him saying something about being unable to stay mad.

He would have found a way to make it more sultry than that, but he always said things you never expected.

Giving him a quick peck, you hooked him with your closest leg.

He clicked in frustration as his knees slid against the smooth floor when he tried to get away.

You couldn’t get him far, but it was enough.

Arousal building, you saw him catch the scent as his snout directed towards it.

A faint whine came out of him along with a small line of drool where he was clearly keeping his jaw taunt.

“We can; you just have to go slow.”

He was deathly still and you reluctantly pulled your soaked fingers from yourself. With that glistening hand, you reached for his cock.

Trapped between rationale and impulse, you brushed his glans.

His cock bobbed and he tossed his head before throwing you a watery gaze.

“We can. We’re allowed.”

His head shook less with disagreement and more as if clearing his mind.

With the smallest tug that was akin to a motion on a certain commanding children’s toy, your slick hand pulled over the ridge of his glans.

Several stunted rumbles came out of him reminiscent of a storm closing in. You repeated the motion and one of his knees came an inch closer. Getting a little more of his length you began to stroke him. It was clearly easing his throbbing member and, with warbled squeaks, he edged closer and closer. Getting a full pump of his member in reach, you tried not to bring too much attention to the fact that he was back between your legs. He was slow to unfurl, but eventually he found a single grip beside one of your hips. He hunched into you there, clearly trying to take in your scent greedily without touching you.

“You’re doing amazing. So good. I’m so proud of you.”

With each stroke, he was getting closer and closer to your entrance. Chewing your lip, you fumbled in your ministration to reach for the lube bottle. There you re-wet your free hand before returning to your task. Donnie seemed unperturbed by the disruption, especially when your newly soaked hand dipped between your legs. Working both of you and appendages growing milky with pre-cum, you tried to create a tandem. It worked to an extent, but you could only grasp so much of him one-handed. It left part of him without and he tried to rock to get as much mileage as possible out of the single grip.

It was within one of these thrusts that his tip brushed you again.

Now aching for his pulsating member, you let out a small moan where he gave a sharp peep.

The sound was so high pitched, you startled.

Thinking it was the move itself, he tried to run.

Reflexively, your legs encircled him which pressed him further into your sex.

Squeaking like a rung out dog toy, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“We can!” It took every fiber of your being not to roll onto him. Slick meant your grip on his cock wasn’t firm, but you tried to hold him steady.

His gaze was shredded and you could almost hear him shout about his lack of control.

“It’ll feel good, I promise.” You stroked toward you in a treacherously slow way. “For both of us, please. For both of us.”

Through your legs you felt his hips tense to the point of almost snapping before he finally allowed the sensation.

Perfectly aligned, his spaded cockhead just barely kissed your entrance proper.

Mewling, your hips moved the slightest amount pushing on him, but holding back from forcing him in.

Mid-whine, Donnie’s voice cracked before his other hand struck the bed with a force that bounced you. Bobbing up, his cock disappeared from you before you landed again, with him sliding through your folds. It was enough to break his resolve as he pushed inward. Not rushed, you sighed as your body tried to accommodate for him. You heard heady chirps from your partner as he held still. Without either of you doing more, the lube and preparations made it so his glans popped in.

Both of you groaned at the sensation and the spread locking him in was near instant.

With a look that said he was fighting for his very life, Donnie dragged his gaze to your face. You met him with lust and leaned up to him. His forehead found yours before his gaze dropped to where you were connected. With a brush of cotton, his arms moved behind your back to support you before he began to push further in.

Groaning and chasing him by tightening your legs, he continued to fill you to a point before he flat out stopped. Trying to grind, he nipped at you before you realized he was trying to give you time to adjust. You kissed him with apology and settled back against his arms to wait. It wasn’t long before he moved again and within three more pauses he was sheathed.

You sighed dreamily at the fullness.

It was an assurance personified. 

In a bump, he knocked your head.

Chuckling at the odd move, you met his gaze and the smile fell away.

What stared back at you was deep lust and intense possession. 

The smolder scored away any latent traces of pain. 

You clenched reflexively and he gave his first approximation of a grin.

It left you confused and he had to nudge you again to get your full attention.

As soon as you gave it he made a honed chirp. A totally new noise, it seemed to strike right into your brain stem. It flooded you with a strange warmth even though you had no idea what it meant. It felt important and he nuzzled you before pressing his hips.

It was pleasure and your eyes rolled back at his restraint. Reaching out to his plastron to hang onto the top edge, you chased back and finally rolled your hips. He gave a few far too quick pumps that made you glad you had your handle. You shoved him there to slow him and he stilled with twitching resistance. Holding him there as best you could, you tried to demonstrate the pace. You had little leverage, but with his attention trained, he leveraged what you showed versus what instinct screamed. It ended in a middle man that just barely teetered on too much.

Releasing him since he seemed to have a hang on the rhythm, you slung your arms around his neck to hold on. With your foreheads glued, you felt the whetting of perspiration. His arms around you slowly pulled from the bed to carefully grip your body. You moaned louder to encourage him and without the brace, you lowered yourself to lay back. The pose affected him and he strained to a sudden halt that had his eye twitching.

You whispered sweet encouragements and reached for him. He knelt down to meet your touch and in doing so tipped his hips. For the first time in the entire evening he brushed your g-spot and you unintentionally let out a yip. Stomach doing sudden flips at the move, you completely ignored his worry and tried to give what you hoped was a sultry sound. What came out was at first pitchy, but your throat caught on something which rolled like a purr.

You felt his member throb inside you before he pulled you down onto him. You had a warning on your lips, but he fucked it off of you with metered thrusts into that bundle of nerves. Crying out your satisfaction, he descended onto you. Not about to be squished again, you fought against submitting and shoved upward. His hips stuttered, but he didn’t stop so you bit down into the junction between his neck and shoulder. Exerting as much pressure as you could, the skin broke and the taste of blood confused you.

Your partner gave a deafening squeak before his rhythm totally devolved. Clinging to him with your teeth, arms, and legs, he lost your g-spot and thrust deep inside. Whining as your build up dissipated, you could routinely feel his plastron near your clit. Diverting strength downward, you bounced your calves to tilt him. He barely obliged and the edge of his shell gave a modicum of relief.

The coil in your belly finally winding, you released your jaw only to bite down again a little to the left. Donnie responded with a devolving rotation of chirps and squeaks that screamed rapture. Nearing your peak, you again couldn’t telegraph his orgasm until he suddenly stilled. Your mouth broke free to complain when the rush of cum came. Head falling back in frustration, you caught only a snippet of his face screwed up in pleasure as your body slacked around him. Wanting to punch something from how close you had come to truly feeling good, you could sense the chart following your orgasm miss its peak. The line was in a free fall and its plummet signaled the chances might drop to zero. 

“You know what?!”

Eyes unsteady, he tried to focus on your sudden voice.

“Nope!!” You squirmed beneath him, reeling your legs in. “You’re still gonna be hard and you’re going to finish me off, damnit! Four fucking times, no way!!”

Confused, Donnie released your waist.

One of your feet hooked the edge of his carapace and you kicked there.

A warning click transformed into a groan as you used the momentum to pull off of him.

Seed leaking from both you, you backed up while one of your hands latched onto the upper lip of his plastron. You yanked hard there and he scrambled to keep himself upright as you pulled him onto the bed. Shoving his utterly confused form around, you all but tossed him into the nest he’d created earlier. You then mounted him and took him all back in so quickly he gave a version of that pained whine from overstimulation.

“More.” You growled, grabbing hold of his face so you had his attention. “Make me cum. Make me scream. Make me feel so good!” To enforce your point, you rose up and then let gravity take you back down his shaft. His lips parted and before you could rise again, he took on an understanding air. Needing to breed and take care of his mate, his arms encircled you to a near crushing hug. He then used the force to lift you up and drop you just as you had yourself. Eyes swimming, you let him set the pace until your knees ached.

Again, you were close, but it wasn’t right. Wary, as soon as you made the slightest move, he released. Tenderly grabbing his shoulders and momentarily stalling to admire your handiwork there, you used him as leverage to lift again. This time it was to reposition and you slid your legs out from under you. When you came down, you used them to encircle him, essentially straddling him cross legged. It sent him deep and at a slight angle that he could use to his advantage.

Waiting for him to pick-up on it, you went to search him when he didn’t. He instead had been working up to something as he tested a gentle roll of his hips. It stirred his cock inside you and just barely brushed that bundle of nerves. Giving a breathy sigh, you crumpled against his chest as he continued the careful ministrations. Wondering how this version of Donnie could possibly think to do this, you heard a rhythmic thump and came away a little to catch the sound. In a shift of your leg, you found it was his tail and the knowledge of his wag had you tightening both inside and out. You imagined he must have been so proud of himself, like he’d received a treat in the form of your pleasure. Swiveling your own hips to match his stroke, he gave a single thrust before he growled as if to keep himself in line.

Chuckling at that, you pulled him down for a kiss. As soon as you got him, you shoved your tongue into his mouth. Clearly confused by the action, he simply leaned into you and you sucked. It coaxed his tongue out along with rumbling crests from his chest that would break with squeaky chirps. Uncoordinated, it was your best attempt at making out yet. You held onto him as a lifeline until you felt the wrench twist. Pipe nearly fixed, you broke away with a wet pop to shift the angle. It pressed him further into your g-spot and you sang his praises by mimicking those happy chirps he kept making.

It spurned him on as he gave a few curious ones before matching yours with a fierceness that translated into his hips. You held nothing back as the final tightening occurred and you unraveled as you finally came. Outright screaming, you shuddered atop him. You lost a few seconds to nirvana before descent was encouraged by him cradling you. His sounds were nearly as euphoric as you felt and there was an honored quality to them that might have also been from your orgasmic haze.

Falling into the sheets, Donnie nudged and nuzzled you happily. Giving a faint giggle, you patted him before giving him a scratch at the apex of his jaw. He melted there, squeaky like a toy, but with ever so slight presses of his hips where his cock was still buried inside. Having to lift your head to get a proper look at him, he was poured over your body. Now knowing not to drop his weight there, he held back and stared at you with outright adoration.

“All I want to do is tell you what a good boy you were.” Scratching both edges of his jaw he wiggled slightly from the force of his tail. “Wait, I totally can. Who’s a good boy?!” You giggled, unable to keep the cutesy voice away.

Overcome, he buried his face into your chest and gave that honed chirp.

Again it struck you as deeply significant, but he lifted his head in time with an incessant thrust.

“Right back to it?” You murmured, turning the scratch into a stroke.

He watched you dreamily.

“Well, my love…” You chewed your lip at that last part, knowing that would very much not be allowed otherwise.

This particular Donnie had no idea and seemed to crave the sound of your voice among other things.

“I guess…” You held a building tone that had him pause in wait. “Good luck with breeding me.” You booped his nose, flashed him a smile, and bucked up under him.

His eyes rolled back and he gave into the motion his hips were begging him to.

Though you had seen apocalyptic movies, the speed at which you devolved after that was astounding.

After several more rounds and more cum than any one person should ever have to contend with in a whole lifetime, you gave into sleep. You had drifted off curled around your partner who had switched to full doting when he wasn’t trying to breed you with intent. It meant water and you convincing him to bring the bottles as opposed to ripping them open. You got a slew of snacks and even a can which you outright laughed when you received. He had time to build a proper nest after he’d ripped up the sheets and pillows fully to construct something more akin to what you imagine his instincts craved.

Snuggly and warm, you awoke to see sun glistening in the kitchen through the canopy drapes. That meant something to you, but it evaporated as you noticed your vision would move just a little every few seconds. Worried about vertigo, you brought your sleep addled attention down to see one of your feet bobbing in the air. Blinking off sleep, you saw Donnie had a careful grip under each of your knees where he was holding your legs up. Clearly have been fucking you gently so as not to wake you, he gave a happy trill at your attention.

“Good morning.” You clenched as you let that thought sink in.

He gave a spindly chirp and picked up the pace.

Having been nearly constantly filled, there was no way to tell how long he’d been at it. It felt like the vein where there was no approximation for how long his heat would last. With soreness a problem for future you, the current embraced the cycle which shrank to nothing but fucking, drinking, eating, and sleeping. With time already nonexistent, the only thing changing in the apartment was lighting. It again stirred you with meaning, but Donnie’s attention wiped it away each time without fail. He was cock and cum and love and you reveled in it.

It became caresses and brushes inexact, but revelatory. With moans and rolling tongues breathed life to intimacy. Sweat slicked into the fluids seasoning closeness. Greased there and slid across the grill top, your love was seared. It’s scorched surface came it grasped limbs that held on to its juices for dear life. Flavor baked in, thrusts and jostles called for more orders. Satisfaction was granted in screams, but your bellies were insatiable. The filling came uniquely, but never quenched. Drenches and yearning, you’d come away for a kiss as if that would stoke the fire.

Now that he understood you were also party breeding, the whole affair shifted to that of a combined one. For him, the most relief came from being buried inside of you. It soothed the irritation of both his ever present dick and metered his instincts. From there, besides the obvious filling, he was chasing what he must have considered your elusive high. Not always able to replicate the same results with the exact same methods, it frustrated his stunted mind. It also meant the reward was a greater one that he pursued all the more. Laviousing in non-stop pleasure, you only had to contend with his seed. You still hadn’t quite figured out why there had been a shift away from the knot, but you imagined it had to be related to the surplus. Trading one breeding technique for another, instead of locking on, his body had shifted to upping its chances another way. 

Submerged for what had to be several days based on the alternating dark and light, there was a knock at the door. You had been resting between sessions and Donnie went full guard dog. Minus the barking, he stalked out of the bedroom ready to viciously attack whoever dared come near his space. Thinking the display was quite territorial, you made it on wobbly legs to check it out. He tried to herd you back to bed with worry, but you brushed past him with little reassurances. Clearly unnerved, he tangled around your legs as you eventually made it to the peephole. There was a stack of what looked like groceries outside with a bright purple note on top.

Thinking only at the last second to not open the door nude, you clambered back to the bedroom and eventually found a shirt. Donnie had many clicking protests about that and you shooed him thinking you might need a broom. He eventually relented with a heavy grouch and you got the door open while somehow keeping him back. Dragging the conveniently tied pile in, you locked the door. Leaning against the couch and leaving Donnie to inspect the lot, you read the note.

Hey Y/N,

I hope you’re doing alright. Despite the lock-out, please know you can send an SOS anytime via either your tech gauntlet or the computer. I’m… ‘sorry’ isn’t the right word, but I don’t… Well… I could erase all this hesitation, but it might read better if I leave it in, don’t you? Basically, I think I get why you did what you did and knowing you, you know why I did the same. I care about you and I want you to be happy…

Breaking away from the page, you had to wipe away the tears that were forming before continuing.

Gushy stuff aside, I calculated you would probably be running out of food and water about now. I got you a bunch of provisions, but specifically meal replacements because I have a feeling those are SUPER necessary. Again, I’m def trying not to freak out and hope everything is fine. Please let it be fine. Love you! Shelly

Tears now flowing, you lowered the page only to find Donnie watching you with intense concern. You gave him a watery smile and were about to tell him it was okay when he turned his attention to the paper in your hand. Thinking it was the perpetrator, he tried to snatch it and you got into a minor skirmish to keep him from shredding it.

He gave up with even more pouting that he promptly forgot about as you unpacked the bags. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had seemingly thought of everything and you nibbled on a meal bar while carting similarly balanced drinks to the fridge. Stocking didn’t take long and you even got Donnie to eat something. Despite presumably losing all his bodily fluids each time he came, your boyfriend had not been taking in near enough water or food. With all his attention on you, he seemed to have no other drives outside of care and mating. It worried you, but you had first hand experience that said he wasn’t getting the least bit weaker. 

In fact, the only thing that ever seemed to wear on him was his constantly dropped cock. His literal point of weakness in many senses, it just wasn’t possible for you to always be on it. While breaks had sometimes come mutually, more often than not, it pained Donnie to pull out. It was there when he had the most slips in his coherency. He’d growl at you for moving too much if you needed him off. Thankfully, he’d return near instantly and fuss over his little lapse. You’d shush him over his worry because he hadn’t come anywhere near hurting you again; it was just that your human body could only handle so much. 

Not just obliging him, you were also enjoying yourself. It was an engulfing euphoria that made a mockery of your past marathons. The only problem was, while the mind was willing, the flesh was weak. As much as you convinced yourself time was no longer constant, that future you was looming closer with each consecutive round. The ache in not just your nethers, but your entire body began to sound at all hours. Lube helped and the magnanimous S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had had the forethought to drop off more along with his other provisions, but there was only so much it could do. The only real balm was stopping and you neither wanted to nor really had the capability. 

It mattered little when stripping life down to the bare essentials had been rapturous. Though you could never say you went the way of the kids Lord of the Flies, but you did feel a slip in which you had started to understand Donnie’s animalistic speech. It wasn’t really language as much as it was expressions of emotions. There were still a couple that were too abstract for you to identify, but you became adept at mimicking the simpler ones. Applying them pulled a near similar reaction to this Donnie as using his tech did to your usual boyfriend.  

The fun and games truly waned when, after what you had estimated to be a week had passed, your body finally began to give out. Though a breakdown had been in your periphery, the actual collapse had been swift. Every part of you ached with muscles devastated by the near constant work out. There was never enough time for repair as refractory periods were out the window. In only a slight contrast, while Donnie appeared to have held up, in actuality exhaustion was tearing him to shreds. It had taken you about five days to catch, but due to the territorial nature of his rut, you found that he wasn’t sleeping. Instead, he was compelled to keep vigil over you when you did. As his precious mate, he couldn’t risk anything happening to you and with the need to breed taking over when you were awake, he simply stayed awake at all times.

When the inevitable collapse finally occurred, you were thankful it had happened on the bed. Side by side, the two of you had basically fallen off one another after a round with Donnie especially collapsing onto his carapace. You watched with your own form of drowsiness as he fended sleep off with heavy lids for only a few seconds before he passed out slack. Snuggling close to keep your own watch, you made it only a few more minutes before succumbing yourself. When you finally came to, it was a different type of light that said you must have slept over twelve straight hours. That being the most of the entire heat, you felt especially dehydrated. Head refusing to raise, you were about to ask for water when you found your partner still asleep, now on his side.

Outside his usual form, he was curled, near fetal, except he couldn’t pull his legs up to his body. Laying out in the way as the culprit was his swollen cock. Apparently extra hard from its sudden disuse, his glans lay in a pool of pre-cum where leaked in search of its host. As you watched, you also saw the faint trickle move as you tracked his hips rocked in his sleep. Struck by the need and necessity of caring for your partner, you rolled over with great difficulty. Now facing away from him, you scooted back, minding his sleep. It took some lengthy maneuvering, but you got yourself in position. You thought touching his angry cock might wake him, but under your hold he only made a withered sound and was barely disturbed under his forced slumber.

Knowing the feeling well, you stroked his head through your folds. Having time, you let the pre-cum lubricate you before your own slick somehow managed to build. Wondering how that could be with the many sessions, you checked over your shoulder to find your mate still asleep, with only his brow ridge creased. Wanting to watch the relief wash over him, you aligned him and scooted just enough so he’d enter. To him the fill came with a dream sigh and smoothed features, while for you there was a strange mix of discomfort and solace. Thinking you had gotten a little too used to being stuffed, you made sure you were accessible before finding a comfortable position on your side.

It took a few minutes, but his dreams must have taken shape because he began to rock into you at a lazily pace. It only took slight encouragement from yourself before his tired arm came around. Biting your lip to keep silent, he pulled you flush to him as if you were a pillow. Weary, your innards were warmed with him both physically and mentally. This position required little of your body and came as easily as sleep. Nearing said precipice, it was only the nudge of his hips that kept you conscious. There was something to the sleep sex, the deep need that surpassed waking thought that stirred you. It brought a hand down to your abused clit, where you instead massaged the bundle of nerves just above it.

Orgasms as of late had either not felt like much or exaggerated the ache. This one, however, whether it be from your tired state or the possible kink, felt like it could be a pleasurably crest like a tide rolling in on a sun drenched morning. Riding that thought and Donnie in general, a little adjustment had him nuzzled against your g-spot. It had become heavily bruised in the interim, but you still throbbed at the contact.

Breathing speeding up and numbed shocks running through your wrists, you tipped back to see him once more. He seemed serene, but still knocked clean out. You couldn’t help but press an awkward kiss to his slack jaw. He pulled you a little closer and his hips picked up just slightly. Pleasured warping as exhaustion took hold, there was a blissful quality to cumming. With no exact start, the high seemed to align with you slipping into the first stages of sleep and the current carried you away to dreamland.   

The next rousing found you very much in the same position. Comfortably full, you wondered why neither of you had thought to sleep like this. Stickiness said he’d hit his own climax at some point and the tacky quality spoke to another long bout of sleep. Mouth a desert, you blearily looked and found the light of midday. Groaning at the thought, you tried to sit up when a headache quaked between your lids. Wilting, your partner stirred from where he was wrapped around you. He too seemed to test his hips first, acknowledging the connection before nosing up from the snuggle into your shoulder. He gave what you had come to know as your good morning trill, which you returned in kind. Peeling apart from one another, he hadn’t quite pulled his cock out. You mourned your lack of shower which was something Donnie had vehemently blocked as soon as you had tried to turn the knob. You’d gotten by with the sink in small spurts, but he really only let you clean your wound at most. You imagined it would take a community pool to rid yourself of your week-long soiling. 

Rubbing a hand through the oils on your skin, you felt Donnie press your connection. Giving him a shrewd smile, you cocked a brow. “Already?”

He made a needy noise that you had decided was his version of an apologetic ‘it can’t be helped.’

Nodding and still tired, you pulled him out which brought light grouchy chirps. “I’ll top. I need to stretch.”

Forcing up against every muscle group's unified protest, you felt like a scab as you turned and gently coaxed Donnie onto his back.

Trust had him rolling over and you mounted him with a press to his plastron to alert him that he was to stay down.

He obliged as his hands settled comfortably on your thighs while you straddled him. Locating one of many loose lube bottles on the bed, it took tossing two to find one with a little left. Making the most of it, you added it between the both of you before returning him to you. Sliding down onto his shaft with enough practice for what felt like ten lifetimes, he sighed, grateful.

“Good, good.” You cooed, squirming to get him settled. “We’re getting nothing but take out for like two weeks after this. All fresh food too. It’s so bad when you’re actually craving a salad.” Reaching your arms up you attempted to pop your shoulder blades while riding him.

He had a sort of smile on his face as his lower lids watched your stretching form appreciatively.

Feeling a crack and groaning loudly at the pressure release, you crossed your arms behind your head and did a roll of your neck. Donnie gave a little buck which your ground down on causing him to give a weak chirp. “My speed.” You scolded, earning yourself another crack which made you feel like jelly.

Fingers flexing on your legs, you felt his digits tracing you as you rounded out your routine arching backwards. The bend had you nearly seeing his toes before something gave and you almost wanted to collapse right there. Thinking better of it, you righted with a forward curling and found it strange when Donnie’s hand was there cupping your breast. Tracing the arm to his face found his a similar neutral. Mildly confused, he hadn’t once paid your chest any mind in what you decided had to do with a turtle's distinct lack of mammaries. 

Now that his hand was there, you thought it might be for support and you so mimicked him with appendages to his pectoral scutes. As this was definitely going to be one of those times you weren’t going to come, you made your intentions clear that you were going to lay atop him. His hand retreated and you slowly crawled your way down until your belly just touched him. There, with his dick curved into your nethers, you bounced your ass swiftly. His eyes rolled back and his fingers flew to sink into the thick of your rear. Loving his openly entranced expression, it helped bolster your continued rhythm until you felt something you hadn’t in awhile. 

The knot was clearly inflating. 

Caught off guard by the stretch, you slowed. 

Donnie gave a clear human-like groan in agony.

Eyes shooting wide, you snapped upright.

It elicited another rasping protest, something else came out of him, “Y-Y/N…”

“Donnie? Donnie!!!” Forgetting all about the act, you lunged at him. You made it all the way to his upper body before his spread glans kept you from coming right off his cock. 

He tried to crack an eyelid, but his hands pulled at your hips. 

With precision, you slid back along his plastron as he buried himself back into you.

Irritated, you fucked him there straight through to his climax.

Rushed, he nearly sobbed as you came straight off the knot with a struggling squirm. 

Free, you crawled back up to him to find his gaze surfacing. 

What stared back at you through a layer of immense exhaustion was your usual boyfriend.

“Donatello!!”

“Wha…?” His voice was raw with disuse.

“It’s you!!” Tears sprung up in your eyes. “It’s really you!!! Welcome back!!!” They loosed on your cheeks as you plied him with kisses.

“I-” There was a moment where he relished the barrage before a dozen other of his senses came online. “Ugh… your breath…” He turned his head, but you kept plying him. “No… you must stop…!”

“Donnie!!” You could only dumbly repeat. 

You buried your arms under his neck to give him a huge hug.

There was some hesitation as he held you before he went patently stiff.

Something you had grown used to, his seed was leaking out of you. From your legs, you could feel it had pooled on the flat of his plastron. Reaching critical mass, the first drips of it were oozing down his sides.

“Eugh!” His voice warped with disgust. “I…  I understand the gravity of what's happened, but you must get off-”

You squeezed him tighter, loving the sound of his voice.

“Oh…” He held the note with distorted surprise. “Oh, fuck. Off. Off!! Get off now!!!”

Order clear, you scrambled backward, only to fall to the wayside as he sat up before you were clear. “Wait, wha-?”

He stared with bleeding agony between his legs. “My dick is on fire! It burns!! Why does it burn?!”

“Yeah, you’ve been dropped for like eight or nine days.”

“I’ve been-?” Horror took place of pain and he turned to you. “It’s been how long?!”

“Over a week.” You slumped in the nest.

“We’ve been-? We need to-? Have you-?” All the thoughts seemed to rush to him at once and he got tangled in them. Needing to free himself physically, he shot for the edge of the bed.  

“I wouldn’t do tha-!”

You watched him try to get to his feet before he dropped like a stone.

“Yeah…”  

“What happened?!” His voice came up from the floor.

“A… lot… I’ll catch you up, but we both need S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. stat.”

“S.H.E.L.-?” He stopped cold and the silence was almost eerie before he spoke again with even ferocity. “Where is my P.O.P. protection?”

“Donnie-”

“Y/N.”

“One thing at a time!”

“It is one question.”

“Actually there’s been a few.”

Like a creature crawling out of a lagoon, on of his elbows flew up and dug into the mattress. He then used it to creep upwards until his face appeared. “Y/N!”

Slow and taking your time not out of pain, but tepid fury. You sauntered towards him on all fours. 

He watched you with increasing concern. 

Reaching him and putting on your own menace, you towered over him. “I have been fucked non-stop for over a week. I think that puts me in lead position, don’t you? Override the Darling Protocol lockout I initiated and get S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. here now. Then we’ll talk.”

He gave a single submissive squeak before his eyes doubled in size at what must have been a dozen alarming things.

“Good.” You collapsed back in the bed and listened as he clambered over to his computer.  

NEXT

MEGAPHONE beta screech this week. These two really put up with me! @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[fanfic-enthusiast]

Lifeblood (Cotl NariLamb Fic)

Night was starting to fall over the communes lands and the sun dipped below the treeline casting long shadows over the idols and statues that dotted the cult. 

Stars started to appear slowly one by one in the sky above when Narinder noticed the familiar chill down his spine that meant his lover was near. 

He’s gotten good at knowing when their eyes laid on his weakened form. Their deep red stare permitting his fur and sending shivers through him was one of the ways he knew their attention was on him. 

So he turned behind him to meet their gaze, they stood across the field of camellias he had been watering, with a hunger in their eyes. 

‘Ah so it was time already then.’

Lamb nodded, as if they had heard the thought cross his mind, which in all fairness they probably did. 

Narinder turned his gaze skyward to the stars, it was still quite early in the night. So the two of them would have time before morning when Lamb would inevitably have to be up and doing their daily duties. So he placed down his watering can between the blooms and made his way over to the red eyed lamb, watching his every step like a predator watching pray. 

Unsurprising to Narinder, the barer of the red crown needed to feed after all. 

The crowns require energy for their barers to keep them energized and strong, 

Leshy the chaotic spastic energies of his most excitable followers kept him lively and swift. Heket the hunger and persistence from her own followers. Kallamar the constitution and quite possibly paranoia, Narinder was never sure, of his healthiest devotees and Shamura, the essence of war and bloodlust fueling their cruelty and kindness in turn. 

Narinder required life energy, the fuel keeping the fire of souls alight before they fell to him, and with the dawning of a new death god that same need fell to Lamb. 

The prospect of such a need terrified the sheep when it became known to them. They held their stomach tight and whined, not understanding the hunger that now plagued them. With their godhood, food was no longer a requirement, why did that suddenly seem to change. 

Narinder knew that hunger from his time spend in limbo, and granted them the mercy of an explanation. Which only alarmed them more. 

Lamb didn’t want to shorten the lives of his followers in such a way, to do so would be cruel! Surely there had to be another way! 

“I suppose you could try to limit it to one follower, syphon from them and spare the others. But that follower would surely age to death in days if you did that.”

“...age to death you say?”

“Yes damned Lamb, age.” They had a look in their eye that made Narinder’s palms sweat. 

Then he remembered he didn’t age like the other followers around him. Lamb didn’t pounce on Narinder right away of course, despite their desperation they took the time to sit down and ask Narinder straight if he would do this for them. Allow them to sate this ache without hurting anyone they cared about. The alternative would be to feed on the heretics in the woods, where they wouldn't be subject to as much guilt. 

Narinder felt he caved too quickly to such a request, but the choice was made either way. And so whenever the urge arose Lamb would pull Narinder to a privet tent they had built for themselves, and to take what they needed from the feline. 

Which was given freely whenever they wished it.

The repeated feedings over the months since their agreement had begun to effect Narinder a little in ways he hadn’t expected. He assumed it was a side effect of Lamb’s strange means of obtaining the life force they needed. 

Sliding sharp teeth into his neck, feeling the blood trickle out of the injury while Lamb’s tongue sliding over the open wound. 

It made his knees weak and his thoughts sluggish. Often leaving him in a daze for most of next day. Lamb would take care of him and make sure he ate while resting and recovering. 

~

Which lead him to the situation he was in now, in their lap as they mouthed over the collection of small scars littering the area between his neck and shoulder. Where just under his skin the pulse his heart thrummed with anticipation of what was to come. 

Lamb chuckled a little, prompting a glare. He didn’t need their amusement like this, not when he was in their lap baring his neck to them, robe long abandoned on the floor along with Lamb’s fleece. 

“Just get on with it already.” “Come now Narinder, I can tell you're eager but no need to be so impatient. Have you forgotten how to wait.” “No I just- You need this more then I do! Quit depriving yourself to tease me.” 

A dark chuckle emanated from the Lamb under him, he felt their fingers squeeze around his thighs pulling him closer against their wooly chest and looking up at him with those... wine red eyes. 

“Oh Nari~ I’m so tempted to drain you right here and now...” They trail off and mouth his neck again trailing kisses over his shoulder, he couldn't help his breath catching in his throat as Lamb kissed him. “To gorge myself on this ruby red delicacy inside you.” 

Lamb’s breath against his fur was hot and heavy while their hands trailed up and down his thighs massaging small circles inside them that made the blood rush to his face. 

“But... I can’t lose my good boy. Couldn’t bare it.” 

Narinder breath came out jittery as Lamb moved back against his throat. He gulped and looked down at them. Their words echoing in his head. 

“Whats wrong Nari? Cat got your tongue.” They chuckled and finally after forever, he felt their sharp teeth against his neck again. Any response Narinder had on his tongue quickly became lost to the wind. 

Slowly those white fangs pierced through his skin. He sucked in air through his teeth and his hands tangled in the wool of their chest. They retracted from his throat and in their place their tongue lapped at his wound. 

Their lips locked around his throat and suckled gently at the wound, Narinder felt himself sigh and lean against Lamb harder as they did so. The dull pain in his neck from their actions slipping from his mind and replacing with a light as air feeling in his head. 

He kneaded the soft white wool under his paws as Lamb ravaged his neck. They savored every mouthful of his divine blood that entered their mouth. It coated their tongue in a sweet bitterness that suited the feline so well. It was hard for Lamb to stop once they tasted this flavor. 

It was even harder to stop once they realized when they did this, Narinder was putty in their hands. He'd willingly let them suck every last drop from his body if they didn't stop themselves. Which... made the option all the more tempting, especially with the revival ritual carefully tucked away in their notebook. 

Still... they didn't want to harm their good kitty. 

Narinder’s lightheadedness gave way to weakness in his limbs as his kneading slowed to a simple resting of his hands against their wool. It was soft like a cloud... so were their hips and stomach, so were their lips. Still locked at his neck while his vitality leaked from him. 

Thoughts ran slow like honey and he wagged his tail behind him, ears laying back as he purred in Lamb’s soft and sharp embrace. A good boy eager to help... Lamb hummed against his throat. 

The vision in his three eyes started to get dark around the edges, shadows creeping in as his head lolled against Lamb’s, numbed arms falling from their chest to their lap. 

At this Lamb finally pulled back from Narinder’s neck. Ignoring the soft whine from the cat in question as they did so. A small trail of blood dripping from the wound on his neck. Which Lamb was quick to dive back in and lap up, not wanting to waste a drop of this precious treat. More delicious then anything else they've tasted... 

They could surely have just one more sip...

The moan under them changed their mind quickly as Narinder slumped against them. The magic of the crown quickly let Lamb retrieve the bandages from across the room and wrap them around Narinder’s neck with practiced ease. 

“Shhhh darling. You did wonderfully...” “Mmmm really?”

“Yes of course, such a good boy.”

Narinder smiled slowly, eyes still closed as his tail swayed behind him. Lamb held a cup of water to his lips which he sipped from without complaint or hesitation. 

After that Lamb laid him down gently on the bed. By this point light was already starting to come through the crack in their door. Morning already... my how time flies. 

The drained cat curled up under the covers, spent before the dawn even broke as their rejuvenated partner stood from the bed. Giving their unconscious love a small kiss on the forehead and promising to return later with a hearty meal for him. 

They smiled fondly as Narinder purred at their words. Leaving to start the day with a jump in their step and new life in their veins. 

#happy halloween y'all #halloween fic #narinder #cotl narinder #narilamb #cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl lamb #COTL The Lamb #the lamb #lambert #true devotion #tw: blood #tw: bloodsucking

[jiminrings]

miss j. minrings at this point i'll take anything you give tbh i missed your writing so much that if you don't push through with the sneak peek, i will probably shave my head 🫥🫴

:D

Jungkook reminds you that love is unfair.

He reminds you that love is unfair in the same way you remember that you don’t belong to his world. He’s the walking proof that it’s possible to have everything without suffering, and as much as it isn’t his fault that he was born to it, it irks you.

You don’t hate Jungkook, no. It’s much more complex than that, something to do with the bitterness in your mind and heart from doing everything only to barely equate to what Jungkook– people like Jungkook — get for doing nothing.

You don’t hate Jungkook, he’s tolerable. He’s loving to the people dear to him; stuck-up most of the time but won’t go out of his way just to be an asshole. He can hold conversations with you, sometimes steering outside the parameters of you being his bodyguard and him being your boss. He’s rude at times but he’s tolerable — it’s the best of what you could get from people like him.

What you hate about him is that he probably hasn’t had a bad day ever in his life. 

You don’t know him to an intimate degree but you know, you know that Jungkook has not worked extremely hard for anything ever in his life. He hasn’t fought for anything because he didn’t have to.

Maybe it’s just a bad day for you today, accidentally scrolling past an article that detailed about your abrupt exit from the fighting scene. It makes your throat constrict when you skim through it for a second and register the exact words that have once crossed your mind before in a fit of insecurity; you were cowardly and cheap for leaving the octagon to become a glorified babysitter for Jeon Jungkook.

Perhaps it’s such a bad day for you today that even when you think about how your job as a bodyguard pays so much more than your occupation as a fighter, it does nothing. The lack of fatigue from guarding a nepotism baby outweighs your body more than the injuries you’ve gotten throughout your career. 

Despite being stagnant in the water instead of flailing around, you have never been more afloat than now. You’re financially and physically stable more than ever and it’s because you protect, not fight.

Even if you hate him sometimes, you protect Jungkook with your whole life. You guard him like your life depended on it because for so long, it’s been ingrained in your head that it was either do or die. That if you don’t work hard enough, there won’t be food on the table. That if you don’t fight desperately and harshly enough, no one would be able to take care of the people you’ll leave in your wake.

You do your best when you follow Jungkook to bars and assess everyone in there in the process, prioritizing your regard for his safety more than his remarks of you being a cockblock. You adhere to instinct and hold him by the waist in crowded places, even if he grumbles that you’re spoiling his game.

You pour your all when you accompany Jungkook to a private fitting and wait for him outside of the dressing room, patiently anticipating what he’d look like in a suit meant to accept an award for being one of the most influential individuals in this generation. You don’t know exactly what constitutes to him being influential besides being himself, but perhaps his existence itself is what’s most outstanding about him.

You pour so much of yourself that when Jungkook steps out of the dressing room, you smile at him fondly, sincerely. 

You give so much of yourself that protecting Jungkook has become synonymous to falling for him.

You think love is unfair because it’s biased. It’s cruel and it chooses because love is simply not for everyone. Love is not for the weak.

Love is unfair because it finds its way to you in the form of him. You are what makes love weak, and Jungkook is what makes it cruel.

#bae u are not gonna be shaving ur head tonight <3

[bitchkay]

Bold♡

~Roy Invidia

CW: [n]sfw 18+, magical vibrator. Roy being Roy a little shit. teasing, afab, non gender specific descriptors but wearing a dress, exhibitionism, praise, voyeurism on Fenn's part-

Word Count: 869

Rating: Explicit (18+ mdni)

Prompt(s): Making them orgasm in public

Note: my first entry for @voltagefandomproject there will be more😈

— voltage fandom ccc masterlist

"..."

"Shut the fuck up-"

"I said nothing of the sort," Roy crosses his arms over his chest, failing to hide the shit eating grin on his face as you glare at him from the side.

"You know what you're doi-" you sucked in a breath abruptly as Roy wriggled his fingers triggering the intensity of the toy in the seat of your panties.

You bit your tongue hanging your head to hide your expression as you squeezed your thighs together concealed by the expensive dress you wore.

You were at an event, one of Coldes many holidays that constituted throwing a ball in the grand hall, currently sitting by the wall with your paramour at your side- the quite devious paramour might I add.

These kinds of things were like Roy's battle ground, always prim, proper, and perfect for appearances, not a hair could be seen out of place. What would they do if they saw the Roy you saw behind closed doors?

For someone who always appeared calm and composed in every situation, he loved testing the limits of decorum.

You leaned your head on Roy's shoulder whispering out pleas for mercy. To on looker you merely appeared to be a loving couple being affectionate, little would they know you've been teetering on the edge for hours now, your panties soaked through.

"Roy… please I- no more," you kept your voice down for the sake of a potential audience though in your mind you'd already disregarded your location, simply desperate for release.

"You've had enough already? The night is still young, we have yet to share a dance," Roy took you by the hands standing you up from your chair.

"Royy," you whined as he led you to the middle of the floor, as a new song began to ring through the hall.

"I will aid you through the steps if you're worried about making mistakes," Roy placed his hands on the small of your back before lifting your body off the floor with magic hovering you just above floor enough to go without notice before leaning in next to your ear, his voice a couple octaves lower. "Lean on me."

You felt your body heat up at the tone of his voice, as you carefully leaned your head on his shoulder putting your full trust in him.

"You want to finish?" You hummed confirmation as Roy moved through the steps of the dance. "Can you keep quiet for me?"

Before you had the chance to answer you felt Roy trace patterns on your lower back with his fingers igniting more vibrations to your throbbing clit. You gasped hanging onto Roy to ground yourself somewhat; hard to do when you're not on the ground. The vibrations rolling through your body made you weak but incredibly more conscious of where you were. You'd feel like you're floating if you weren't already suspended in the air.

"Mmh.." you can't keep a low blissful moan from rumbling up your throat as the toy magically moves around your soaked cunt, teasing every part of your sensitive area.

"... look at me, a moment," Roy said, seeking to see your face.

Lifting your head you met his eyes. The moment your eyes met the intensity of the vibrations jumped to its highest level so far.

"Ah-!" The moan you were about to let out was cut off by Roy's lips, taking your breath away. The kiss was short, meant to shut you up but enough to have Roy look over his shoulder if any one was explicitly watching.

Had your legs been on the ground, they'd be shaking. You're sure your thighs are wet by now. Your lip quivered as you looked at Roy, his perfect poker face cracked slightly as your composure faltered.

"Roy…"

You ducked your head in the crook of his neck, biting your tongue so hard you began to taste blood but ignored it as the wave of your orgasm ran through your bones, sinking your nails into Roy's shoulders as your body felt like putty. Your ears rang as you rested your full weight on him, Roy's touches on your back becoming more soothing, no longer controlling the vibrator in your well ruined panties.

"Good… you did so well," Roy kissed your forehead continuing the motions of your dance in a soothing embrace.

"..tired…" you mumbled against his coat.

"I imagine you are.. you managed to endure throughout the night Heartspell. When this song comes to a close we will make our exit."

To any onlooker's eye you two simply looked hopelessly in love, stuck in your own world as you spent the duration of the night in each other's company. Well unless you looked closely.

The song ends and Roy slowly places your feet on the floor, and aided your steps as your legs regained their strength. Saying short goodbyes in passing as you aimed for the door, Roy caught the eye of the purple eyed prince.

Fenn sipping his cocktail made eye contact with Roy, a knowing smirk on his lips before licking his lips. He mouthed the words 'Good show' before looking elsewhere making a silent vow to tease the other prince on a later date.

©bitchkay.tumblr.com

This prompt was just made for him yk😌

#voltage fandom ccc #court of darkness #roy invidia #fanfiction #otome fanfic #tw smut #voltage inc #cod fanfic #court of darkness fanfiction #smut #18+ minors dni #fenn luxure #kay's writing

[tortoisesshells]

1, 3 and 4 for the writing excerpt meme? :D

1. ... that makes me smile:

Customs doesn't usually have much for anyone to smile about, and they're five minutes away from an extraordinarily loaded conversation about justice, but for now, Nellie thinks Ursa Minor looks like a goose:

“Well, your education was likely significantly more comprehensive on this score than mine, Commodore.” “Undoubtedly. But Nellie, I really cannot see a goose.” She sighed, and glanced up at him. “If you are determined to laugh at me –” “I am not laughing –” “James.” “I am not laughing now,” he amended, “I am curious. What you see is what you see. I cannot tell you that you are wrong there.” “If you promise,” she said, and raised a hand to gesture at the sky, again. “There, the North Star. That’s the head. Those little stars arcing behind it are the long neck. The little box – the one with the other bright star in the lot, I don’t know it’s name but you see it, there? – that’s the body of the thing. I suppose I’ve been imagining that its wings are folded in – that it’s paddling about on some mill pond in the sky.” When described in this way, it did resemble a goose peering into the shallows for food. James said so, and Nellie, limited by the darkness as his perception of her was, fairly preened.

3. ... that encompasses my style:

Answered here, but: I don't usually do kid/adolescent narrators, but this passage from had you not better make One of us does have my usual belaboring of historical detail for characterization, and a character playing chicken and losing with their own emotions and memory. Also, I do think this one of my better attempts at Elizabeth from POTC at any age:

She frowned at this – why on earth would a man not want to travel? Instead of being stuck in a great dreary northern place which (Elizabeth glanced over at her father’s prized globe, finding this Massachusetts Bay by the great ungainly sweep of a cape that always put her in mind of a prize-fighter’s arm) probably had bears and snow. She had not seen the latter in some two years, and did not miss it at all – she had never seen a bear, though, since Papa had a weak constitution and tended to faint at the sight of blood, which meant for all her pleading she’d never seen the baiting-pits in Paris Garden in London – or anywhere else, besides. She had seen a bear skull once, in one of her father’s friend’s curio-cabinets, between curious-looking coins of long-dead Roman emperors and rocks that man had (in a superior tone which immediately made Elizabeth lose interest) called glossopetrae. Someone later told her that those hand-sized rocks they were ancient shark-teeth, which had set her to staring at the inscrutable waves with fear and fascination. But she was ignoring the conversation, which she ought not to do – she was something like the lady of the house, even though she was too young for the position she’d inherited when Mama had – “Then your family is in Massachusetts Bay?” she asked quickly, to stem the unwelcome thoughts she’d just had.

4. ... with dialogue I'm proud of:

Answered here, but! Love a character who says outrageous things with a smile. From another shoreline, in another life:

Roger snorted. “It’s the fire for us, Vicki. You might as well find your comfort where you can.” She glanced at him, chewing at her lip for a half-moment. “Ought I to – take one of the other rooms?” “Don’t be ridiculous. Take advantage of the foresight of our ancestors and stay by the stove.” “I’d like to lie down.” He looked at her, unsure at first, and then – entertained. “And you would rather a door be between us? You are taking this journey into the past very seriously. It’s not 1866.” Vicki demurred, feeling as though she had to explain herself, but not finding the words for what she meant to say. She was his sister’s employee – his son’s tutor – she’d need another job after this one, whenever that was. None of it was very articulate, and she watched miserably as Roger add another log to the stove. “If it distresses you that much,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her, with an expression she could not have parsed even in the frank light of day, “I will take one of the other rooms. Though – I’m not enough of a gentleman not to ask for your coat.”

send me a number and I'll share an excerpt of my writing!

#thank you for the ask kind friend! #ask meme #polkaknox talks

[plumoh]

lay down your burdens

Rating: G

Wordcount: 2642

Summary: “What I’m trying to say is that… you look more bothered about your arm when you’re wielding my weapons. Specifically the Binding Blade, so maybe don’t force yourself to use it…?” / Roy asks Diamant about his scar.

Note: AO3 link. You know how Diamant had a fire magic accident when he was younger and Roy has a flaming sword? yeah.

Engaging with Diamant, as opposed to other warriors, feels natural—Roy is extending himself to become Diamant’s sword and armor, protecting him while also making him stronger to take care of their enemies in one sweep. Each Emblem has different assets, which aren’t suited to everyone’s fighting style; while Roy is more than happy to provide assistance and protection to Princess Ivy, he knows that he isn’t the most compatible with her. Alcryst says that he benefits greatly from the power Roy is lending him, but there is still something not quite right when they’re engaged, even if he’s the second prince of the kingdom that has watched over Roy’s ring for generations.

This feeling of wrongness is an oddity that is shared among many of the Emblems, even Marth, who has arguably been around far longer than any of them. Engaging with someone develops a bond that cannot be replicated easily with the next person who decides to use the ring’s power. But an unbreakable bond is just as dangerous as a weak bond—some stories tell the tale of warriors and Emblems who lost themselves when their partner fell in battle.

Roy knows that. Some tools are only meant to be tools, but the human nature is to love. He can’t think of anyone deliberately trying to avoid becoming friends with the person they’re engaged with. It is also difficult to fight in an army without caring about the people that constitute it. For an Emblem, ignoring their warrior’s feelings and resolve is a tall task; they become one.

Which is why Roy is keenly aware of Diamant’s heart hammering against his ribcage like it wants a way out whenever he brings out the Binding Blade to set a part of the battlefield ablaze. Roy wouldn’t call it nausea, but it’s a near thing—Diamant is doing his best to remain calm and to direct his attack at the exact location it is needed, but the effort that is required looks far too taxing to be healthy.

“The path is secured!”

Diamant wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and grimaces when the metal of his gauntlet scrapes his skin. There’s only the slightest frown on his face when he looks at his gauntlet and sees that no blood was drawn. He sighs, takes a slow breath, and readjusts his grip on the Binding Blade. His fingers are firm around the sword, but the uneasiness never leaves. Roy should make Diamant disengage for him to regain his composure, but they’re in the middle of the battlefield and a new wave of enemies is rushing them.

So Roy keeps quiet and watches, as Diamant calls forth the fire of the Binding Blade while flinching away from it.

Roy, since he can’t exactly fidget when he’s incorporeal and not touching ground, hovers. Micaiah waves her staff and the bright green light closes most of the cuts on Diamant’s arms and face. She smiles at him and floats away to heal the next person. Diamant lets out a sigh, stares at his left arm for a moment, then pulls down his sleeve.

“What happened to your arm?” Roy asks before he changes his mind.

He’s seen the dark mark running across Diamant’s skin. On hot days, he’s seen the way Diamant purposely rolls up the sleeve of his left forearm just enough to avoid exposing the mark, while the right sleeve goes all the way to his elbow. This is a scar that Diamant isn’t proud of.

Diamant glances at Roy, his face not showing any kind of surprise, though his eyes shine with a glint of resignation—and Roy frowns at the sight.

“Sorry, if you don’t want to answer that’s totally fine,” Roy says. “The… bruise caught my attention a few times before and I got curious.”

He didn’t mean to be so blunt in his question, but if he waited any longer, he would never ask.

“I suppose it’d be impossible to hide anything from an Emblem who has lived with us for so long,” Diamant says, smiling.

Roy’s lips tug upwards at Diamant’s casual tone, but his stomach twists into knots. Even if Brodia’s royal family has protected Roy’s ring for decades, Roy doesn’t personally know them. He recognizes them through their aura, he can sense the purpose that runs deep in their blood, but he has started to get to know them only these past few months.

Getting to know someone and fully trusting them takes a long time. However, Roy won’t deny that a special bond is keeping them together, like they are truly destined to fight alongside each other.

“You know that as an Emblem, I can feel what you are feeling when you use my ring,” Roy tells Diamant. “So. It seems that you’re not entirely comfortable. Uh.”

Roy falters, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck. Now that he’s actually broached the subject, the words are failing him and he thinks that it might not have been the wisest decision. Diamant clearly doesn’t want people to notice the scar on his arm for some reason, and Roy, even as his partner in battle, can’t just demand an explanation.

The knots in his stomach transform into a heavy weight as he realizes that even though their bond is steady and strong, if Diamant is always on the verge of passing out when he’s using the Binding Blade, then maybe they’re not that compatible after all.

“What I’m trying to say is that… you look more bothered about your arm when you’re wielding my weapons. Specifically the Binding Blade, so maybe don’t force yourself to use it…?”

"Roy.” Diamant lifts up a hand and that effectively makes Roy stop rambling. “You don’t have to worry so much. I’m not angry or upset you asked that question.”

Diamant cradles his arm closer to his torso, like he is trying to protect it a little while longer. That doesn’t make Roy feel any better.

“I think I’m simply self-conscious about this injury,” Diamant continues. “I’ve had it for a long time now, but it is evidence that I’m not as flawless as people think me to be.”

“Is that… truly a bad thing?” Roy asks, frowning.

Diamant sighs. “I suppose not. But most days, it is difficult to remember that those close to me won’t think any less of me because of one injury that I sustained years ago.”

Diamant tries too hard to act and stand like the formidable, unwavering prince who does nothing but train to protect his kingdom. These are qualities that befit princes, without a doubt, but the pressure he’s putting on himself is going to crush him one day. Roy would know.

When Roy looks at Diamant, he sees a friend before a prince, but people have often told him that his dislike for rank doesn’t necessarily reflect well on everyone—some nobles think him impertinent, commoners find him out of touch with reality. He and Diamant aren’t as close as he’d like them to be; sharing a similar status is clearly not synonymous with sharing the same values and priorities. Roy isn’t sure how his words would help Diamant, a man who has built around himself a barrier of forced self-confidence.

“I know soldiers who are proud to show off their scars,” Roy offers instead.

“A lot of warriors in Brodia are the same,” Diamant answers. “I’m not ashamed of my scar, but every day I am reminded of my weakness.”

“You’re not weak.” Roy’s reply flies out of his mouth before he can even think it.

Diamant casts him a small smile, certainly to show he appreciates the comment but he’s not believing it yet. He extends his arm, then slowly unclasps hi armbrace one belt at a time before rolling up the sleeve of his shirt.

The scar is no bigger than the width of a small dagger, located right in the middle of Diamant’s forearm. The passing of time made it dark red, almost brown. It’s obvious healers concentrated their efforts on treating it, but the attack must have been of incredible force if it left such a mark even years later.

Roy glances at Diamant, looks at the scar, then at Diamant again. He’s seen this kind of mark before, during his battles against dragons.

“Did someone burn you?”

“No, not exactly,” Diamant says, looking down at his arm, and Roy feels a weight lift off his chest. “It was an accident. When I was younger, I was training with fire magic and got careless.” Diamant looks back at Roy. “Ever since I got that injury, I’ve been afraid of magic, and specifically of fire magic. It sounds kind of silly when I tell you that, right?”

“From the looks of it, it was a very powerful spell. Dragon fire leaves similar marks if it’s not treated properly, and getting injured is never a good memory.”

It was hard at first to understand how dragon magic worked and how to efficiently heal the burns, which resulted in many soldiers going home with scars. Roy wishes that they could have done more for these soldiers.

“Is that why you’re hiding the scar? The memory of the accident must have been terrible.”

“It’s not entirely because of the memory itself. I’m… truly afraid of fire magic. I’m not exaggerating when I say this is my weakness.”

A hot wave of determination overwhelms Roy in a snap, and he takes a step forward, gesturing wildly at Diamant’s arm.

“You can’t say that, Diamant. You say you’re afraid of magic but you’re still fighting in the war and holding your own against mages! I’m not calling that weak.”

He’s spent so long being attuned to Diamant’s feelings during battle—his desire to protect, his quick thinking when in a tough spot, his ability to always summon the right weapon at the right moment. Roy remembers most of his past wielders, who were always invigorated with the knowledge of being able to use a fire-based sword. Just like Diamant, they were all courageous and headstrong in their own way; they all went to the front lines with the reassurance they were accompanied by an Emblem.

This is Roy’s role. He’s an Emblem giving strength to his wielders and turning the tide of a battle, but he is first and foremost a support for these warriors.

“If anything, if you’re always afraid when you’re using the Binding Blade but still succeed in winning a battle, then you’re one of the bravest people I’ve met.”

Diamant is staring at him with disbelief, mouth hanging open. It’s not fitting of a prince at all. If Roy still had a corporeal body, he’d be shaking Diamant’s shoulders with both hands and try to physically shove those words into his skull. Roy himself has been called stubborn and blind to his own behavior, and without the help of his companions, he’d still be an awkward ball of nerves unable to stand his ground.

“I hope you know how much strength it takes to fight while scared,” Roy finishes in a low voice.

Just as it suddenly overtook him, the burst of energy vanishes right as the last word leaves Roy’s lips.

Silence falls between them, stretching long enough for it to become uneasy. But Roy doesn’t regret his words nor does he wish this conversation turned out differently. He crosses his arms over his chest, attempting to hide his urge to fidget under that tense atmosphere. Even after a year of working on his body language, controlling his nervous habits remains the most difficulty task.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Diamant lowers his arm and directs his eyes at the scar instead. His face doesn’t betray much; he seems to have retreated into his own mind.

“That injury will most likely never properly heal,” Diamant remarks, pensive. “I’ll bear it all my life.”

“It is most likely, yes,” Roy replies, thinking about the scars that Dieck and Garret can’t hide and have accepted as part of themselves.

“I try to be the perfect prince that Brodia needs. I’ve always thought that if people saw this scar, they would think I wasn’t worthy of the title of heir because I had a clear disadvantage against mages. Brodia is a kingdom of hardened warriors, after all.”

Then Diamant lifts his eyes, and something much more appeased settles on his face.

“But no warrior is infallible.”

Roy grins. “That’s right. And no heir is alone in their journey to become the ruler they want to be. Asking for help isn’t a weakness either.”

“I suppose an Emblem would know that better than anyone else.”

“The others also faced similar struggles, talking to them would be very insightful. I learned a lot from them.”

Even before getting acquainted with a younger Aunt Lyn, Roy befriended Marth and Ike; two heroes whose legends apparently crossed time and dimensions. They might not have led the same kind of campaign or lived the same experiences, but from one general to another, they had many pointers and ideas to exchange—and Roy is always eager to learn more about battle tactics. He’s had longer discussions about doing what is right and how to rebuild a nation with Lucina, though. And Micaiah knows a thing or two about different peoples learning to coexist.

Diamant nods, and he rolls his sleeve back down to cover his arm.

“I’ll probably talk to Alcryst first, if the opportunity arises. He’s always saying he’s weaker than me and is nowhere near my level. He’s wrong, of course.”

Alcryst could also use a pep talk, Roy thinks.

“Alcryst will be surprised to learn his brother isn’t as indestructible as he imagines, but not in a bad way,” Roy says, then pauses. Backtracks immediately. “I mean, it’s not good you’re not indestructible! But you’re not a superhuman, that’s what I want to say!”

“I know what you mean,” Diamant laughs.

There’s no doubt Diamant never imagined that Brodia’s precious ring would house someone who still stumbles over his words. Roy groans.

“You see, I might have been the general of my country’s army, but I can’t even hold a conversation without making a fool of myself.”

“Well, I’d say the majority of the conversations I’ve had with you were reasonable,” Diamant indicates with a hint of teasing.

“Speaking in clear sentences is still something I’m working on…”

“Then let’s do our best, shall we? You’re working on your speech, I’m working on my fear of fire magic. We can achieve our respective goal together.”

It’s always reassuring, in a way, to see that rulers weren’t born perfect—all of them had to struggle and to work hard to erase as many of their visible flaws as possible, without stripping themselves of their humanity.

Roy lifts a hand and summons the Binding Blade in a flash of light. Diamant blinks at it.

“I’ll teach you how to protect yourself from the fire of the sword and how to face fire attacks,” Roy says. “It won’t be as thorough a training as the ones you’re used to, but I hope it will help.”

The corner of Diamant’s lips curls upwards. He extends his hand, palm up, and Roy deposits the Binding Blade on it. The sword takes on brighter colors upon the contact.

“I’d be honored to have you as a teacher, Roy.”

“And in exchange you can give me some tips about speaking with absolute confidence.”

“That sounds like a honest deal.”

Maybe Roy read it all wrong. He’s not incompatible with Diamant; they both have abilities they need to improve on, and what one lacks, the other can cover it. It is only natural to accept help and kindness from comrades and friends.

#fire emblem engage #fe engage #diamant (fire emblem) #roy (fire emblem) #i love them. a lot. #they have so many similarities and this is giving me So Many Thoughts #but the thing that makes me go insane the most is how they're both trying so hard to meet expectations ugh #ughh!!!!

[criticalrolo]

2, 4, 7, 12, and 21 for Alistair!

Thanks!! I’ve got some good answers for these

2. What would break your OC beyond repair? Has it happened?

Alistair is a lot of things, but breakable isn’t one of them. He’s had a lot of time to think about the bad things he’s done, and he’s had to decide if he’s going to live with it or not. He came down on the side of “all I can do is Keep Moving Forward” when he was pretty young and has stuck to that mindset for nearly two decades.

That being said, I’m gonna give this a shot. What could BREAK break him…

I think if he massively failed another group of people that followed his advice and his lead AGAIN, he might not have the emotional strength to work through it Again. If he was put in charge of Anyone and they died / came to a horrible fate while under his charge, I don’t know if he could forgive himself. He can tolerate pretty much any treatment to Himself, but being responsible for someone else and failing them would probably be a final straw for him.

4. Does your OC have nightmares? What do they contain?

Oh yeah, all the time. They’re very specific and a message sent from his Grey Lady. She promised him that if he was lying when he summoned her, she’d return him to the fate that was supposed to be his. Now he has pretty frequent nightmares of being burnt at the stake set to the tune of a cheering crowd and a never-ending violin.

7. Does your OC have any weaknesses? Have these ever been exploited?

Alistair walked away from her stint at the Unseelie Court, but barely. Her constitution is never going to be what it was after that degree of deception and exhaustion and physical… changes. The Fey didn’t KNOW they were hurting her of course (+13 to deception! can’t roll lower than a 23!) but. Their version of “helping” and “fun” wasn’t meant for humans in the first place.

12. To what extent would your OC go to survive?

This is Thee #1 Goal. He tried being heroic once and it emphatically did not work out for him or his family. Then he decided that he’d take his chances faking his way through a Fey court since a 1% chance of survival was better than the 0% he was looking at if he stayed where he was. After trading in his constitution, physical health, and peace of mind in exchange for Another Day Alive, there isn’t much he’d refuse to give up of himself at this point. His plan for more Ethically Dubious Ventures in the 20 years post Fey court is to be so charming that he gets away with whatever he needs to in order to stay alive and also keep living with himself. If the only one getting hurt is him though? As long as it buys him another day of survival he’s good to go.

21. What is the worst thing your OC has done?

Convinced his family that backing a revolution was a good idea. RIP in pieces to a lot of people for that one LOL

#Alistair #hhhhhh my babygirl

[tfwarya]

Clouds of Yesterday || Owen x Arya (feat. Aulus/Sekhad)

Even here, in the midst of the beautiful tended gardens of the capital of Aclea, the scent of the sea called to her. The princess turned her face towards the breeze and took in a deep breath. Unbidden, her mind raced backwards. Jumping and dancing over the years to the memory of the gentle face she’d taken such care to carve from her aching heart. A flash of a teasing smile. Gentle eyes the color of crashing waves. Warm hands. Soft lips... “My dearest Arya, are you even listening? I am being quite charming, if I do say so myself, and you are simply missing all of it.” A voice cut through the trail of Arya’s thoughts. She shook her head gently and returned her attentions to the Prince strolling beside her. Of course. She was here for a reason, and a good one. An important one even. She must marry. She must make a proper alliance with a strong nation. The King of Aclea was certainly the best choice, but Aulus had become quite a good friend. A decent second choice if there ever was one. “Of course, Your Highness...” She teased back in return, squeezing the forearm she held gently with one hand and adjusting her parasol to cover them both. “You almost certainly were regaling me with a story of the latest courtier you managed to offend simply by speaking truths they did not wish to hear, am I incorrect?” It was a pleasure to watch the bristling of the Prince beside her. He reminded her so much of a preening peacock for how much he disliked being noted while so sharply noting the weaknesses of others. “Truly, my dear Aulus, you are going to get yourself in quite some trouble if you do not learn to temper that tongue of yours.” “Why should I? As you have said, I am simply speaking the truth. If it offends, that is of no fault of mine. Perhaps the listener should spend some more time thickening their skin. You certainly have.” A laugh bubbled up over Arya’s lips at what, for Aulus at least, constituted a compliment and rolled her eyes. The pair were beginning to reach the crest of Willow Hill, hidden within the garden maze, that constituted the goal of their journey. Aulus for all his faults, was a good friend who had been shrewd enough to note her longing for a glimpse of the sea. And even if he did not know exactly the true reason for it, he had been swift to suggest the jaunt. “That is only because I am immensely clever, you see, and I discovered right away...” Her sentence trailed off, for the young woman’s heart began pounding in her chest as soon as they reached their destination and she looked out over the harbor. Sails. Foreign sails the like of which she had not seen in ten long years. Achingly familiar and yet there they were, sitting upon a ship in the harbour. Is it him? Is he here? He is alive? Did he look for me? What am I to do? “P-Pardon me, I... I had not seen the sea for some time, and I...” A nervous laugh, a smile she hoped would mask her anxiousness. “In any case, I was saying that I was simply clever enough to realize that befriending you was much more preferable to fending off your barbs alone.” Arya turned away from the prince in the hopes that she could contain herself before Jahnara arrived with their picnic. She would know exactly what the sails meant and would note her princess’ mood in but a second, which meant that her father would certainly be contacted and all would be lost. Foolish of you to even think he would be here. How can you even be certain it’s his ship? It could be anyone’s! Besides, he never returned. Certainly that is proof enough of how steadfast his affections truly were. It was a silly dream. You knew it then and you know it now. Remember your duty. Remember your people. They count on you for their safety and happiness. You cannot abandon them for a folly. And yet, as the pair rounded the eponymous willow tree for which the garden had been centered upon, a sharp pain like a hot lance pierced through the woman’s heart. She’d know that face anywhere. “Owen...?”

#comment #tfwowen #tfwaulus #otp: when i close my eyes you're all that I see #thank u for letting me borrow your silliest boy I just love him lol

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Crossed Change ~Waltz of Reminiscence~ - Chapter 15

Translation of chapter 15 of the event ‘Crossed Change ~Waltz of Reminiscence~’ from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Faith: They pretty much all left halfway through, no? Can you still say that they had fun despite that?

Will: …….

Faith: …Look at this. All the corsages and boutonnieres got trampled all over the floor.

Will: ………

Faith: None of the people I saw actually wore these. They went on how about it doesn’t fit what they’re wearing and all

Faith: Even after working so hard to make them…

Will: …….Yeah

----(Present day)

Will: With that I didn’t think through about what I meant with “I want everyone to enjoy themselves”, about who or what kind of people.

Will: As a result, it became a bitter memory for everyone…

Faith: Yeah, the way you acted was unsavory at best.

Will: Wuh… That hits really deep hearing it come from you.

Faith: You bite off way more than you can chew. Forcing people to have fun when they don’t even feel that they want to is beyond impossible. 

Faith: At that time, I wouldn’t have enjoyed prom no matter what came of it. Because I wasn’t intending to.

Faith: …That’s why, I didn’t do anything even though I could’ve stopped it.

Faith: In order to not impose the same things onto others like before, we’ll have to sit down and think about who this “everyone” is.

Faith: What I want at the moment is for the students to enjoy the prom, what about you?

Will: Yes, me too.

Will: But… I have to consider it for a little while longer after all… 

Faith: …Why?

Will: I had a weak constitution when I was a child.

Will: I looked forward to events like the prom, but actually participating was out of the question.

Will: I mean, even if I were to take a role for the cultural events, it’d be nothing but trouble if I was absent during it, no? Same for excursions and bigger trips. If we went far and I collapsed it would only be troublesome for everyone else. 

Will: So I always said I didn’t mind even if I never went. In order to not cause any concern to those around me.

Will: Well, I couldn’t keep it a secret from Akira and Ren, and ended up causing trouble without meaning to after all…

Faith: Huuuh…

Faith: I finally understand now. As to why you keep clinging to that “I want everyone to enjoy themselves” thing you go on about 

Will: ….Exactly that

Will: But truthfully, the me from back then just wanted to tell it to someone. “It’s fine to join, even if you’ll be a bother.”

Will: “If you feel like coming then come and enjoy yourself without holding back”

Faith: …….

Will: I don’t intend to repeat the same mistake as last time. Neither to disregard the rest and let whoever join.

Will: But at the very least, I want to reach out to those that harbor feelings of wanting to be a part of it.

Faith: ……Haah

Will: W-what’s wrong, Faith-kun?

Faith: Will, listen-

Will: Uh-huh?

Faith: You sure can blurt out some absurd stuff without a single care in the world.

Will: …Eh?

Faith: Being so nonchalantly unreasonable, way too serious and stubborn on top of it… All traits of someone who is diligent to the bone.

Will: Um, it’s hard to tell if you’re praising me or belittling me.

Faith: But that's exactly what always made him a hero.

Will: ….?

Faith: Alright… I’ll help out with that irrationality of yours.

#heliosR #helios rising heroes #will sprout #faith beams

[muraenide]

@mostrohost​ asked:

It's the opening click of the door which draws Azul up out of his idle double-checking, a glance towards the sound confirming that it was in fact Jade and not some other individual who'd been extorted and sent as a sacrifice in his vice's place. He was almost disappointed - it very nearly would have been fun to terrify a poor soul with less of an adamantine constitution and then send them on their way. In pieces maybe, or whole and without memory of the past three weeks.

"Punctual as ever." The compliment comes out softly accented, a sharpness to the 'c' which usually went unheard when they were on land. "And here I thought you might have actually meant it this time when you mentioned that dying would be preferable to more work with me. Are you that brave, Jade? Or are we admitting to being a glutton for punishment?"

Looking up, he lets go of the shoe he'd been admiring, the horizontal line of his pupils briefly widening into a sphere like a human's should be. The influx of light is a little much, but brings out Jade's silhouette into sharper focus - like going from a murky 180p video on Magicam to the 4k resolution those gaming savants of Ignihyde loves to rave about.

Azul smiled, teeth long and sharp, closer to what they were in his actual form than the meek little trinkets humans had from birth. "Take a seat. Given the usual conditions of these sorts of things, I imagine that it may be beneficial as well as necessary."

When he stands it's with care, but there's no quiver to give away any sign of weakness. Good. If he can't make Jade suffer at least a little, then he can hopefully get through this venture without floundering like a newly beached turtle.

"Someone brought it to my attention that it was rather popular on land for establishments meant for gentlemen to include certain forms of entertainment among their services. And this generous soul did not once think to name a condition or terms to prevent further use of his insight on the matter - hence why he's been appointed as a sort of trial run before we determine whether to proceed. Quality assurance, and all. Naturally, complaints will be handled separately."

It's warm in his room, or that's his own cold-blooded nature coming back to nag at him. But the flick of a finger ensures that the lock on the door snaps shut, and he's glad to have tested the pole beforehand when he lightly rests a hand against it.

The glamor evaporates like mist off the rolling waves, and all that's left behind is the deep glossy black and soft grey-silver of his true skin, hidden except for the peek-a-boo allowances of the patterned bodice. Octavinelle's colors were a limited palette to work with, he'd enjoyed the challenge of it.

"Sit, Jade. This was your idea after all. Perhaps if you're good, there might even be a reward."

Jade would have been smiling if the one sitting in front of him now was anyone else but Azul. Azul, who knew of all his shortcomings and his woes, and knew how to exploit them. All his tricks, though impressive, had been rather repetitive. He had to admit that once one can glance past the greedy little octopi lusting after shimmering pennies, his dorm leader had an unmatched intelligence. Among the three of them, there were always competition between who is the smartest. The first position often shifts, and there is no telling who is able to outwit who the next time they faced off each other. Azul never falls for the same trick more than twice, and Jade is quickly running out of strategies.

He bites down on his lip, gnawing gently on the bottom layer. It would take a fool not to hear all the snaps and bites in Azul’s words. Punctual as ever. Goodness, how courteous of Azul to compliment him now and not one of the times when the octopi would summon him past the dead of the night to carry out impromptu but urgent missions. 

But the smile that Jade offers to his dorm leader is as sweet as ever, his eyes as bright as the many luminous pearls of the deep. ❝Did you really take that literally, Azul?❞ He says, taking a sit on the chair opposite of Azul’s desk. ❝Metaphors are common usage in not only the daily lives of land dwellers, but also back home. I did not imagine you would be offended by it.❞

And if one were to offend Azul first, Floyd is eagerly and happily first in line, shoving Jade into a queue behind him. 

Jade isn’t so native to think that Azul simply brought him here for a scolding, no. Azul has always been stubborn about showing rather than telling. This might very well be a death sentence for getting on his nerves, but not knowing what is coming next keeps him on his toes and sends his heart aflutter with excitement. 

Azul stands; a worthy indicator to note that the main topic of this meeting is just only commencing.

He is right.

Someone. A generous soul. It’s as though Azul is terrified that Jade would fail to pick up his intonation, the emphasis on every word referring to whom they both know is Jade is heavily emphasized. The lackluster smile on his face breaks wider by an inch each time Azul makes a reference to him.

He expects this, and is dully sitting through the entire conversation until a snap of fingers sends Jade’s head spinning around. Heterochromatic eyes widens with surprise as cold sweat starts to beads on his palms; now that is something new. Azul could not possibly be asking him to join him in the trial, couldn’t he? 

As expected of his dorm leader, Azul knew that being exposed to a public audience is not one of Jade’s favourite moments. If he’s entertaining the idea that this is what Azul is trying to exploit, then it really does tempt Jade to choose death over working with this man.

He slowly turns back to look at Azul, the smile finally wears off, replaced with a thin line. He reaches up to grasp the lapels of his precious coat, holding them together tightly. His legs snap shut and held as if that could save him from all the dangers of the world.

❝W-Would it not be more civil to discuss this rather than go by force, Azul--❞ 

Before he could muster a full protest, the Octavinelle dorm uniform evaporates like steam and suddenly Jade is looking at something he might have only been able to see through a dream. 

What do you think, Jade?

What can he think? They’re boys mid-way through their puberty phase, and mating season is drawing near. This is madness. Jade could feel heat boiling up his cheeks, his eyes torn between staring and shutting themselves up for the sake of dignity. His entire person felt hot and stuffy even if the entirety of Octavinelle is submerge in cool water.

In the end he simply reaches up to slip his fedora over his eyes. There is no winning against Azul when he’s serious about a fight.

#mostrohost #// Im cryinggggg #𖦹 ⋆꙳ ⁄ ic.