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just-some-random-blogger · 2 months

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The Salt In My Blood

You were the beloved Jewel of the Realm, the youngest Targaryen born to Alyssa and Baelon. Though your nature resembled more a lamb rather than a dragon, you posed a threat at court, for a single word out of your mouth inspired a thousand actions from The King and The Rogue Prince. Thus, your match with the Lord of the Iron Islands.

Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader x Dalton Greyjoy | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, targcest (sister!reader), reader has valyrian features (silver hair, violet eyes), power imbalance, graphic depictions of violence/assault/murder/death, canon divergence/inaccurate timelines, ye old misogyny, fuckedupedness of men, smut (dub con, loss of virginity, piv, biting, marking, breeding kink, corruption kink, baby trapping, cockwarming, cunnilingus), internet translated high valyrian, angst, social commentary, typos, etc.

A/N: !!mind the warnings!! This is really yucky because it is. all men do is hurt women. Also I did basic research for Dalton Greyjoy and just used him cuz I needed a character. idk what he's actually like and I'm 99% sure this timeline doesn't add up so, just roll w it ok? Ok. If my internet translated high valyrian sucks, well, it be like that. And surprise surprise i made another song for a fic because i should make use of my music degree while im jobless 💔 my heart goes out to @arabellasleopardcoat because her fic capital really poked my brain and got me fired up enough to write/create again, even if just for this fic. i love you.

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @thebullship @sa3losa @sloanexx @azperja @happilyhertale

Father, father, shining star, save my brother from the war. Mother, mother, hold me close. I fear brother won't come home. So, I pray, night and day, I do my duty here. Find me, oh [a] husband, so fierce with not a fear. Father, father hears my prayer. Mother, mother dries my tears. All my strife ends tonight for my husband's here.

"But what if someone sees," you whisper.

Daemon clutches your hand tighter as you hurry down the hall. He looks over to you, your expression matches your shaky voice.

Perhaps, had the conditions been different, he'd be softened by your words. The ferocity of his protectiveness would have made him stop in his footsteps and clutch your cheek. Perhaps he would have promised to safeguard you.

But these conditions did not elicit such urges from him. No. It stoked the fires bacchanal in his gut. The stolen taste of your honeyed lips in the garden was not enough.

Daemon finally brings his darling sister into his bedroom, and there, he answers you, "who would dare spy on the king's heir, the prince of the realm?"

Your breath quickens at the sound of your brother locking the door.

The prince of the realm stalks over to you, a dragon gazing upon a meek lamb.

Again, you whisper, "what if someone finds out?"

Daemon could growl. He almost did as he grabs your waist and sinks his head into the crook of your tender neck. You don't even react when he does this, save for your gasp.

Oh, how like you, how docile and doe-like, never one to raise your voice, or fight back, especially not with him.

"Let them find out, sister," he claws your clothing, "then they will not steal you from me."

You are so pliant as he squeezes you, so soft as he roughs you back to his bed. You let him handle you like he did your dolls growing up. He treated them with less than a quarter of the gentleness you would,; they'd end up tattered and broken because of him by the end of your playing session, much to your heartbreak.

Though you cried about it, you never once held it against him, because each time, Daemon would wipe your tears and apologize. He liked breaking your dolls. He liked being your comfort.

He knew without a sliver of doubt you'd let him do the same to your body. You'd let him break you, then kiss the tears off your cheeks. You'd let him, for he was your star, and you were his doll.

Daemon presses you beneath him. He lays you down where he sleeps. He kisses you, the way he has sometimes imagined he would while touching himself, or while in the arms of another. His long, silver hair falls cascades down his shoulder, joining your long, silver hair that's spilled on his pillows.

For so long, he's denied himself of you, because you were too pure, too darling to be tainted.

You whimper as he pushes your skirts up, bunching them by your ribs.

But now, it's all different.

His mouth suckles his way to your neck.

"Daemon."

Now, it's not about denial. It's about what's right. It's about what you deserve.

"Daemon-" you whimper when he reaches into the waistband of your smallclothes, "-wait."

He breathes hotly against your jaw. His hands grab your knees and parts them for himseld

You push his shoulders back, catching his attention. He is displeased, and not even your glassy eyes could quell it. He warns you with an annoyed sound.

You gulp but mutter anyway, "this is wrong."

"Wrong?!" snaps he.

You tense at his anger, yet even then, you caress his cheek gently, "I am to be married to Lord Dalton Greyjoy."

"And you would have me believe you want him?" Daemon quips, "that you do not want me?"

You push yourself up on your elbows. Tears begin to spill down the corner of your eyes, "Daem-"

"Why do you think I am doing this?" He pushes himself against your core.

You whimper at the contact. He is hard.

He grabs your wrists and pins them to your sides, "I do this for your sake, little girl. To save you from your prison."

You gulp and blink rapidly, your silver lashes lace with tears.

The slightest semblance of remorse flashes on your brother's face.

With your head lifted, you watch as Daemon brings his hands to your ankles instead. He rids you of your shoes and chucks them over his shoulder.

Slowly, he strips you naked until you are left in nothing but the jewelry and the stockings he bought you one before.

You cover your breasts, and he lets you while he kneads at your slightly parted thighs.

His eyes are glued on your womanhood, on the curls that don't see the light of day and the flesh that's never been touched by a man.

Daemon clenches his jaw as his fingers inspect the heat there. The two digits find molten wetness flooding your entrance. You make a breathless sound and squeeze your thighs, trying, with pointless effort, to stop him. His eyes flick to your face, the look of embarrassment, of shock, of pleasure visible to him. He debates forcing your legs.

He licks his you-coated fingers and tuts instead, "open."

You look at him, your Daemon, with the faint line between his brows. You close your mouth and lick your lips. Your hands find their way back to your breasts.

The sight is maddening, especially with how the jewel of your necklace looks between the squished mount of flesh.

"Open," he commands with less patience.

Daemon watches his darling princess part her legs for him. His trousers strain more than it did already.

He watches you closely and motions with a finger, "those too."

You do not immediately comply. In fact, you look at Daemon with pleading eyes. He raises his brows at your bratty demeanor, and shakes his head, "are you disobeying me?"

You see the threat in his eyes.

"Kessa nyke mazverdagon ao rūnagon aōha dīnagon?" Shall I make you remember your place?

You shake your head and pipe softly, "daor." No.

Finally, you reveal your breasts to him.

He smirks, "good girl."

Your brother kneads your delicate flesh and grinds his clothed groin against your weeping cunt. The sound you emit makes the feel of the clothes on his skin unbearable.

His grabs your hands and places them on his waistband. He looks down at you as he rids himself of his top. By the time his burning chest is free, you've gotten half the wits to undo his breeches.

His eyes don't leave you as he takes off his shoes.

You timidly pull his pants down, sitting up slightly as you do. You make a soft sound when his manhood flings free. Daemon shoves you back and does the rest himself.

"Daemon. I don't think-"

Your voice is crushed by the feel of his cock sliding into you. A rush of heat ripples through your body. He leans down and kisses your shoulder as you whine.

"Enough," he pants. He uses all his restraint not to fuck you dumb then and there. He grabs your thighs, pressing them into your chest. He can feel your tension. If he fucks you now, he could leave you unable to walk straight. But as sweet as that sounds, he doesn't actually want to hurt you, not that way.

Daemon sinks down to your jugular and kisses you there before he brings his hungry mouth to your breast. He sucks and nips, imagining it being heavy with milk for his babe, the babe he'd put into your belly.

The thought makes his moan and rut his hips.

You make a strained sound and your hands to push his arms. You call his name again, soft and shaky.

Daemon tries to ignore you, his hand coming to your lonely breast on the other side, but the persistent call of his name makes his sigh.

He lightly grazes your nipple before he releases your flesh. He trails kisses up your skin until he lands on your face, your face, which was now wet with salt.

"You need to relax. Mmm?" he coos, kissing your lips, "skoro syt gaomagon ao limagon? Hm?" Why do you cry?

You adjust beneath him, repositioning your thighs, digging your fingers into his nape. You whimper, "lēkia."

Daemon's belly burns. Look at you, crying for your older brother.

"Kessa, ñuha hāedar?" Yes, my little sister?

"Iksan zūgagon," you mutter, tears streaming down your temples. Your nails scratch up his scalp. I am afraid.

Daemon, selfish as he is, does not like the fact that leaves your lips. His brows furrow. He rubs your thighs in an attempt to comfort you. He kisses the corner of your lips, "hen lēkia?" Of your older brother?

You shake your head quickly, rubbing your thumb on his jaw.

His brows furrow tighter. His hold on your thigh tightens, "hen bona Āegenka Āzma?" Of that Iron Born?

You stay still. You take a moment before mumbling, "Viserys said I should marry him for my own good-"

"Fuck that cunt Viserys," he spits angrily.

Your lips quiver.

The anger in Daemon's chest dissipates as you rub the deep line between his brows. He props himself up, sinking a hand by the side of your head. He looks down at you.

"You cannot protect me forever," you whisper, finally relaxing beneath him.

Daemon watches as you lick your lips.

You gulp, "I am a Targaryen princess. I have duties to the realm, to my family."

"Your duty is with me," he grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest.

Your violet eyes sparkle as you examine his features. You tuck the long tresses that block his face behind his ear. Your belly ignites at the fierce beauty of your beloved brother.

"I burn for you," Daemon says, "I know that you burn for me."

"But Daemon-"

The gentle thrust of his hips stifle your words.

"Enough," Daemon repeats this time softer, head sinking back into the crook of your neck, "you have always belonged to me, and you know it."

You whimper and instinctively mold your body against him. Your legs tighten around his torso as his thrusts grow more and more confident.

Daemon kisses you, delighting in the gasp you give when he plays with your pearl. He muffling the sound of your mewls with his mouth.

"They insult us all by daring to mix dragon blood with fucking sea squid," he pants, "you were meant to carry my seed, be my bride."

You moan, feeling a foreign force in your belly.

"I will not let that sewer monster be the one to make you a woman," Daemon licks a stripe up your neck.

You tangle your fingers into the roots of his hair, "Daemon."

His nails scratch up your sides, "twas I that watched you blossom into womanhood, tis I that should be the one to take it."

Neither of you speak after he says this. You both simply whimper, wordlessly agreeing your bodies were made for each other.

The prince had not a single care in the world. He urges you to scream out to him with the flick of his pelvis. He didn't care if anyone could hear, neither did he care that anyone would see the viscious marks he was leaving all over your throat.

You were better than he had ever imagined, and he was determined to make you his. He was intent on emptying his balls in you, over and over again, until you could take no more, until you were too exhausted to leave, until your body had no other choice but to carry him a child.

And when he finally does spill into you, coming with a grunt and a soft, "you're mine," you, the virgin princess finally understand the fuss over sex, and reply to him with an, "I love you."

Daemon fucks you until his bed is soiled with a mix of your come. He fucks you until every minute movement from him makes you shiver and whine. He fucks you until your skin is marked with tender bites. He fucks you until you beg for respite, and then he keeps himself inside you after.

You were a worn little thing, and yet you managed to have the energy to still cling to him as you dozed off.

He kisses your temple and sleeps soundly, knowing he's done it; he's made you his. That was irrefutable. Only a madman would deny him of you now. He basks in the pleasure of your body, and in the knowledge his baby sister so wholeheartedly trusted in him to let him do this.

One can only imagine, then, the mortified horror you felt when you were given to Lord Greyjoy anyway.

This was not part of the plan. You were meant to meet Daemon. He told you you were going to speak to the king together, and yet here your eldest brother was, ushering you towards your captor-husband to be.

"My princess," Dalton says, reaching a hand to you.

You stare at his glimmering eyes, finding nothing but malice and lust behind them. You turn to your brother for help. You do not want to touch this man.

Viserys offers you none and looks away. It hurts when he does so, especially since he does so with such apparently scorn. He smiles at the man, "greet your lord. You will soon be wed to him, sister."

You muster enough artificial interest to smile and take the man's hand. Goosebumps form on your skin when he kisses the back of your hand.

He notices and chuckles, rubbing where he kissed, "such demureness. Do not be frightened of me, my dragon. I would not hurt such a pretty thing."

You clasp your hands together after he releases you.

"Not unless you ask," he adds, bursting into a laugh.

Neither you or Viserys return the amusement. In fact, the latter's face contorts at the distasteful joke. His nostrils flare, "you dare jest such uncouth things in front of your king?"

Dalton Greyjoy is unbothered, but stifles his laughter. He clears his throat and bows, "my apologies, my king. Tis the Ironborn in me. I cannot help my nature, much like you cannot help yours."

You feel light headed the entirety of this interaction. The room feels like it was closing in on you, and you kept glancing at the door, praying that your other brother free you from this torment.

He does not do so. He does not come. In fact, you do not see Daemon anywhere the entire day.

Dalton keeps you by his side, taking your arm in his as he makes you stroll him around the Red Keep. You do so, of course, no matter how strong the urge to run away and hide from him was. The entire time, Dalton recounts his stories of battle, his stories at sea, his stories of life. He's sincere enough, but you are not interested in the slightest.

"I think you'd enjoy the feel of sea salt against your skin, just as much you enjoy the whip of the clouds," he grins with genuine enthusiasm.

Any response you have is put out by his next words.

"I can introduce you to my salt-wives."

"Salt-wives?"

"Aye," he says proudly, "I'd say I have about twenty, but I cannot assure you its accuracy."

You are horrified. Finally, you have the gall to pull away, "what?"

Dalton chuckles, somehow amused, but his brows furrow, as if irritated, "we Ironborn keep salt wives in our ships, to give us comfort and warmth when the sea gets too rough. Is this princess so sheltered to not know this?"

You curdle when he reaches for your neck.

"You needn't be jealous. You'd be my one and only rock wife."

You scowl at his condescending tone, "I thought that was just a wives' tale."

He laughs. It is rich, amused, and foreboding. He shakes his head, "it's about as much of a wives' tale as your dragons are, princess."

Later that night, you weep at the king's feet, begging him not to marry you off to such a man.

Viserys does not hear it, and it is only then that Daemon finally appears.

When he does, it's as if the gods themselves breathed life into you. Quickly, you run into him and sob into his chest.

Daemon holds you tightly and glares at the king, "what have you done to her?"

Viserys scoffs. The dark room, illuminated only by the fireplace and a few lit candles, feels to him like it's darkened because of Daemon. He shifts where he sits, "I? I found her a husband."

Daemon's eye twitches, "you gave her to me! You said it just this morning."

You look up at Daemon, hopeful at the sound of his words.

"I said I would think about it once you report your patrol at the City Watch to me."

Daemon releases you to impose on his brother, "I kept your city clean from crimes and safe for the people."

"And where did you go after?" Viserys narrows his eyes.

You rub your arms as you watch your brothers argue.

Daemon does not respond.

Viserys turns to you, "tell your beloved sister where you went after your patrols."

Daemon does not move.

Your chest tightens at the silence, "... Daemon."

The said man opens his mouth, "I went to get a dri-"

"A whorehouse!" Viserys blurts, rising from his seat to glare at Daemon. He turns back to you, pushing past him, "I would know. I paid every whore in Fleabottom to seduce him."

Your heart leaps into your mouth, "w-what?"

Daemon is stunned.

"See now," Viserys is close enough to clutch your cheeks, "your beloved brother is a man like all the rest. No more is the dragon righteous than the kraken."

Your eyes begin to fog with tears. Your hands begin to tremble. Why was he doing this to you?

"Greyjoy is no less a dog than the rest of us. He at least, is honoring a tradition. Daemon honors only his cock."

You turn to Daemon, hoping to find this was not the case, but his expression says it all. Youlet a pained whimper, "you teach me so cruelly, brother."

"I teach you," he swipes your tears with his thumbs, "for your own good."

"You fucking--"

You scream in terror as Daemon lunges at Viserys. You reel back and watch as the two crash down to the floor, the younger of the two finding the upper hand. They roughly struggle against each other.

It only takes another scream from you, begging them to stop, for the kingsguards to burst into the room.

You can no longer stay screaming when Daemon grabs Viserys by the collar and slams him repeatedly against the ground, especially not when Viserys claws at Daemon's face to get him off. You dash forward just as the guards order the prince to stop.

You grab Daemon's arm, and out of instinct, he swats you back, hand hitting your nose with rage powered force.

You shoot back into a kingsguard, feeling your face throb in pain.

It takes Viserys screaming your name for Daemon to stop.

The impact of hitting the armored man makes your back twinge, but it does not hurt nearly as much as the back handed hit you received from your brother.

The kingsguard catches you and stands you upright. He quickly asks if you are alright, but doesn't wait for an answer because he then shoves Daemon back, putting himself between him and you when he tries to come near.

Daemon glares in offence.

"Throw him in the fucking dungeon," Viserys spits out as he is helped up by another guard.

Daemon fights back, but is no match against three guards.

He screams your name as he is dragged off.

You clutch your face as he tells you he didn't mean to hit you. You face throbs as he tells you he loves you, and only you.

For once, you doubt his words.

Viserys comes to your side, placing a gentle hand in your shoulder. You watch as he commands a servant to get something for your hit.

He clutches your cheek that was struck and sighs, "if you wed the Red Kraken, you will strengthen our hold on the Iron Lands. Dalton Greyjoy is a formidable warrior. I couldn't think of a more capable man to safekeep the Jewel of the Realm."

As he stroked your hair, you realized that Viserys was right. It didn't matter who it was, all men were the same. When your septa warned you of men's depravity, you believed your brothers to be the exception. Now, you knew exactly why you were called-

"Little lamb," Viserys coos, "I only want what is best for all of us."

You were too naive to believe in good things.

And so you marry Dalton Greyjoy the next day.

The haste with which the wedding is prepared is to prevent you from changing your mind, you figured. That, and to keep Daemon in prison for the least amount of time.

Part of you wanted to visit him, but part of you wanted him to suffer. In the end, you realized you were too weak to behold your brother as a prisoner.

Daemon screams and bangs at his bars, demanding he be released. But the prison guards have handled worse and throw cold water at him to shut him up.

He knew by the time he was free, he would be too late to stop your marriage, but still, he meticulously planned what he would do the moment he was.

That night, after the wedding festivities were over, Dalton takes you to your room and makes you his wife.

"It's been a while since I've had a virgin," Dalton says, caressing your cheek, "don't worry, I will be gentle."

You want to scream, you want tofight him back, but you remember you're not a virgin, and fear paralyzes you. You mumble, "m-my dragon riding."

Dalton pushes back bour silver hair and kisses your shoulder.

You can't help but think of Daemon in this moment, but it makes you feel sick, and so you will him out of your head. You mumble again, "my dragon riding may taken my womanhood."

Dalton pulls away and stares at you for a moment.

"I- I was told as a child, it happened to many Targaryen princesses."

He pulls his hands, which were on your hips, away then shoves you down on your bed. He smirks as he undoes his clothing, "then I can be rough with you, aye?"

You quiver at his gaze.

He laughs, shaking his head, "didn't I say I would not hurt you? Unless under your request?"

You push inch back as he crawls over. He grabs your ankle, then the other, causing you to panic. You instinctively kick him off, but instead of being deterred, he is excited.

"Sh, sh, sh," he hushes, "it will not be unpleasant, my dragon."

Your skin pricks with gooseflesh when he removes your shoes, your socks, and sneaks his hand up your skirt.

You whimper and turn away, finding you could no longer kick back when he seizes your knees.

"Please-"

"Shhh," he hushes, giving you the first solemn look he has this entire day he's been smug, "I've had much practice from my salt wives. You, my rock wife, will taste the fruits of my practice... as I taste you."

You gasp when he suddenly rips your underwear off.

" I swear to you, your body will enjoy it, even if your mind wants you to believe otherwise."

You muffle your mouth with your palm when you feel Dalton sink in between your thighs.

He was right.

The entire time he touches you, it feels like your skin was being scorched. Your heart was not in it, but your body twisted in pleasure. You hated that you longed for Daemon, even after the fact you were not enough for him; he was still the only one you still, and this moment proved it.

You were brought to tears at how pathetic it was. Tears streamed as you reached your peak, one of the many you receive from your... husband.

He handled you with carnal instinct, just as Daemon did, but unlike him, Dalton did not kiss your tears. In fact, he did not kiss your face once. It is you that initiates such a thing, amidst the throes of your lewd pleasure. He grabs your jaw when your lips connect, and quickly releases his load into you after.

Your peak is cut short because he pulls out just when you reach it.

You watch as he rolls over and goes to sleep without another word.

The next morning, the servants call you Princess Greyjoy and it haunts you.

"No need to look so sullen, wife," you hear over your shoulder.

If the cold from the early morning wasn't enough to make you shiver, the kiss on your shoulder was.

The ship rocks as you tear your gaze away from King's Landing, King's Landing that looked so tiny now from where you stood. A sea of tears laid between you and the home that will never be yours again. You turn to Dalton. He leans his elbows on the edge of the ship and looks up at you, "we can do many things to liven your mood."

You watch him as he rubs your hips. Your stomach curdles but you manage to offer a smile, "I... am flattered, but I do not want to distract the captain of this ship."

Dalton chuckles and straightens up, "trust me. The crew would appreciate it if you did."

You squeak when he yanks you into him.

"Right boys?!" he calls loudly, "shall I make a salt wife out of my rock wife?!"

The crew cheers and it makes your skin burn in mortification.

The next thing you know, you are thrown over his shoulder. He slaps your ass and takes you to his quarters. The crew laughs as he does.

You helplessly grunt when he drops you on his bed-- your shared bed. You silently peer up at him as he stares at you. You are releived he paces across the room, towards his table. He grabs something and chucks it at you. You flinch but manage to catch it.

He sits on the table as you inspect the pouch. You open it, finding herbs inside.

"I heard you've been drinking that," he says.

You look up at him.

"Haven't you?" he asks.

You smell it and wretch. It smells exactly like-

"Moon tea," Dalton says, making your blood run cold, "for the bastard in your belly.*

You are frozen in your spot. Your stomach drops when he stands and walks over. He grabs your chin. It is not harsh, but it strikes fear in you anyway.

"I asked you a question, wife."

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

"HAVE YOU BEEN TAKING THE FUCKING TEA OR NOT?" he screams, grabbing your neck.

Your hands fly to his grip. Your fingers attempt to pry him away.

You wheeze when he squeezes you. Your flail your legs and try to kick him off. You can't. Just as your vision begins to go dark, he releases you. You fall onto the bed and frantically try to catch your breath. You cough and hear him smash things around the room.

As so you behold the man who said he would not hurt you unless you asked him, brutalize the furniture.

You think your chances are better in the sea rather than on this boat. You slowly maneuver towards the door while he is distracted. Just as you are about to sprint, he grabs you and throws you back down on his bed.

"You stupid slut!" he screams, "you think you can run?!

You try to scream for help, but the pain in your throat when you try to stops you. Not a second later, you scream anyway.

He slaps you across the face, promptly silencing you. The sting is ten times worse than what Daemon did.

"I was promised a Targaryen princess, not some whore of a dragon!" he screams, kicking the chair by his desk across the room. He laughs angrily, shaking his head, "dragon riding, my arse."

Your heart drops as he storms over, "who's the father of your bastard child?!"

Indistinguishable sounds leave your lips.

"ANSWER ME!" he demands, grabbing your shoulders, dragging you to your feet. Your head recoils at the sheer force of it. You take a moment to steady your head.

Your eyes search Dalton's enraged features, hoping to chance upon a sliver of compassion... in vain. The sound that leaves your mouth is response to the bruising squeeze of your arms. You cannot help but whimper as tears stream down your cheeks, "you're hurting me."

He is further angered by this. He gives you a powerful shake. Your head lashes back again and you scream.

"Give me a name!" erupts the lord.

You no longer have it in you to hold your tongue, and so you confess, "Daemon!"

Dalton releases you. He is repulsed, "your brother?" He scoffs, "you revolting, little worm," he slaps you across the face, making you lose your balance.

Before you crash into anything, he grabs you again and keeps you upright. You can feel your cheek and lips swell at his assault.

"And here they had me believing you were some meek lamb," he laughs dryly, brushing your hair back, "you're nothing but a whore, grown from perversion and abomination."

Your expression hardens. You glare at him and rebut, though your head was pounding, "and your sea rituals are more righteous than my family traditions?"

Without another word, Dalton shoves you back, propelling you into his desk. Your skull crashes against the edge with a horrendous thud.

You fall limp onto the floor. Dalton cares little if you were dead or unconscious. He walks out of the room right before he can witness the red staining your white hair.

Dalton is no fool. He knows better than to disfigure a Targaryen princess.

He walks towards the wheel of the ship and continues the course to what his crew believed to be a shortcut to home. In truth, he was bringing the ship to its doom, to face you with with a trail of the sea.

He would crash the ship into a chokehold of rocks, and if you survived, if he found your floating body, he would keep you, as you proved your resilience. But if you were swallowed into the depths, if he was unable to find you in the debris, he would praise the Drowned god for your riddance.

The same want with his crew.

Of course, there was a bit of this that felt like suicide, but he knew he was too vengeful to die, so he knew he had nothing to fear.

When the Greyjoy ship finally reached the rocky pass, Dalton was promptly warned of the danger by his lookout, who he obviously ignored.

He ordered to hoist the sails, and, blindly, the crew followed, even through apparent worry.

It didn't take very long after for the ship to crash into the cliffs.

The crew clamors. They scream and panic, turning to their captain that could not care less. He pretends to steer them to safety, but he actually slammed them further into their demise.

The deck begins to crumble. The mast snaps. The sails break off. Dalton calls to abandon ship.

The crew don't need any more convincing.

One by one, each man for their own, they try to escape with their life.

By the time Dalton jumps off the ship, the thing is half submerged in the water, crumbs of it on the side of a rock.

It was pure chaos.

Dalton swims far enough from the destruction, and knows the gods smiled upon him and his decision when he sees a large wooden slab he can climb on.

He does just that and looks out to his crew, helping the ones that manage to swim over, commanding the others calling for help to simply swim or drown.

He looks around, trying to make out a body of a woman, a blob of a dress, a head of silver hair in the aftermath.

"My wife," he screams, "has anyone seen my wife?!"

He wasn't concerned, of course. He just wanted to know his fate as a husband, but this did make for a good alibi.

His surviving men look and swim around for you. They find no trance.

Dalton presses his lips, "little dragon couldn't fly away."

They take refuge in a cliff. Lord Greyjoy tells his crew not to bitch and panic because they will surely be found by a passing ship soon enough.

He had planned this shipwreck after all.

By the time Dalton and his remaining men were saved, a flash of red circled in the setting sky, hovering over the massive rock that held the shipwreck that bore the sigil of Greyjoy.

Caraxes screeches as his rider commands him to get closer to the scene. The dragon hesitates but eventually lands on the cliff. Waves crash upon the area, causing the beast to bleat when he is wet.

Daemon is frantic as he gazes upon the destruction. He is distressed unlike he's ever been. His voice is distinctly desperate and hysterical. He screams out your name, even though it was nothing against the roar of the splashing waves.

He heaves heavily as he erratically decides to dismount and jump into the water.

As he wades, he tries to convince himself that what he was doing was for naught. Perhaps you were not here to begin with. But the gut feeling was overwhelming; it was sickening.

He tries to believe that bottom feeder, Greyjoy, saved you before his ship crumbled. He tries to convince himself that cunt's lust for you was enough reason to keep you alive.

But he remembers the servant he threatened with a knife whilst demanding to know which route your ship would take. He thinks of how he almost shit himself while confesssing to Daemon that Greyjoy planned to pass through a rocky region as a shortcut. But Daemon's flown over that area, and knew it was out of the way to the Iron Islands.

After squeezing out what's left from that servant, Daemon's face falls when he mentions that rusted octopus had an argument with a servant girl that came to serve the princess a cup of tea.

Daemon was no fool. Dalton was a butish barbarian. If he found out you were drinking Moon Tea, he would do his worst on you for blemishing his pride.

And so he swam. Daemon swam, dove down, and searched for your body until he had to stop because Caraxes was getting restless. He commanded him to calm down, but he could only do it so many times until he, himself, was the same.

He eventually gets back on Caraxes. Daemon can't bring himself to leave just yet however, and finds himself praying to whatever god out there to return his love back to him.

Caraxes circles the area one last time before heading off. For some reason, Daemon feels the urge to check underneath a large slab of shattered wood. He commands his mount to lift it, and the dragon screeches as he does what he can with his hind legs.

The sound that leaves the prince's mouth is what could be described as pure anguish.

A head of silver hair floats up and wafts in the water along with a tattered dress. Your body garnered a horrid tone of grey and you were missing your shoes.

Daemon cannot contain the tears that gush out of his eyes.

Caraxes carries your body in his claws all the way to the Keep.

The way in which he commands his ride to set your body down is frantic and incredibly detailed. Part of him realizes Caraxes probably recognized you, considering the way he laid on his belly and sniffed you as Daemon buckled to his knees and lamented over your stiff and frigid body.

He speaks to you in High Valyrian. His salty tears drip on your salt water drowned body. He promises he will never trick you, never argue with you, and never make you cry ever again if only you open your violet eyes.

He rocks back and forth with you in his arms, unsure which of you he was soothing by doing this.

He swears he will turn the sea red with blood and burn the whole Iron Islands to avenge you.

He is incredibly uncomfortable of the chill of your skin. He shakes his head, telling you dragons must not be kept cold. He kisses your face in an attempt to warm it up. He recounts a time where you accidentally spilled candle wax on him, burning his skin, and tells you that you still need to make up for your offence. He tells you he will forgive you if you simply hold him back.

Viserys had to account for three dragons by the time he found out what was happening, one was Daemon, whose grief morphed into murderous spite. He threatened to slay anyone who wanted to take you from him. Not again. Another was Caraxes, who refused to leave his heartbroken rider's side. The last was your dragon, who felt the loss of your connection, and went into a rabid state mourning.

It takes 5 people to secure your dragon in the pit, 5 people to subdue Caraxes, and 3 people to separate Daemon from your corpse.

The king takes a moment to clutch your hand. His face flinches. Where once your hand was so warm, no warmth now remained. He steps back and watches the maesters cover your body and take you away.

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argreion · 4 months

Text

Respect Your Elders.

A/N: Changed my thought mid writing about sleepy sex with Leon so now we just go basic. FUSSY TIRED MAN DIDN'T LIKE BEING CALLED OLD! Transitition from cuddle to sex might be a little weird but EEEEEE! Got really fuckin' invested in writing smut and giving another go. Feel better about this one, ngl. I'm not sorry for this, I literally sat down for like an actual hour so immersed in writng this. ALSO, FUCKING SAW ONE MISTAKE AND I CAN'T FIND IT. So, possibly might have a few mistakes here and there.

Warnings: Just Sex with Leon, so P in V! Breeding kink. Breathplay. Cunnilingus! Small bits of degradation near the end. A little spit exchange too. DI Leon in mind but you can pick and choose! AFAB reader too, btw. All I can say is... Slutty Leon Kennedy :3

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcomed!

Let's be honest, being with Leon wasn't easy. Constantly reminding the poor man to not squint, to take his medication, and to even shave. Watching him pass out on the couch, bed, and even on the floor! Sadly, you can't carry a man that's heavy and full of muscle!

At least he passed out on the bed, and you slowly following afterward…

“Baby, c'mere, it's cuddle time.” He would say in that oh-so lovely voice. Made the girls scream mentally whenever he was just nice. All they could see was the pretty man, unknowingly batting his eyelashes to everyone around him. That pretty smile, too.

Leon's arm wrapped around you, and chest against your back. Gently squeezing your torso, muscles tensing and relaxing with each squeeze. The T-shirt you wore from him, stolen from his closet. He liked when you did that, made him hard. When you would bend over the kitchen counter and possibly wear his boxers? Old man got a poor boner, daddy is a little horny, baby.

“You're heavy.” You whined, not that you'd admit you liked it. I mean, you loved Leon. He loved you. It was just how the things with you two. Liked the heaviness, the stupidity, the stress, you liked the attention of a broken man picking up his pieces.

“Mmmm, heavy? The only thing heavy here is your ass.” A snort came from him as he said it. Yeah, he liked ass. Always did a smack-by whenever you walked past him. Especially when you were in the kitchen. Made his little domestic mindset bust a nut, literally.

His stubble brushed into your neck, with the purr of delight that he captured a beauty. Wrapping his other arm around you, under the side of your waist. Uncomfortably pushing into your side.

“So pretty, like an angel, baby. God must've been here to send you from the heavens. Must've hurt when you fell. Could've caught ya.” Oh, those sweet words he would always say. You knew he meant them, of course he did. If you had to say, it was a little depressing. Something just about the way he moved, spoke, and acted made your heart ache. It was probably the drinking he did, albeit it was better than a year ago.

“Don't think God sent me from the sky, Leon.” You responded with, head buried in those satin pillowcases. They felt nice on your skin, and nicer to grab when you got fucked.

“Would've broke a bone, and plus, I doubt you could catch me, old man.”

Oh, you poor poor soul. Don't call him old! He might cry, see, he's crying from his dick! Little slut, he liked that. Go ahead, weep a little more, baby boy! Also, the fact you just called him an old man to his face? Pfft, you're so on.

“I'm not that old, c'mon.”

He grunted, huffing into your neck like an angry toddler when they didn't get to snack on their favorite dino nuggets. Exaggerated heavily, and his grip tightened to push the point, he didn't like that.

“Ever heard the term respect your elders, little kid?” Leon asked, a threat hiding beneath it. Knowing the way he is, you have three seconds before he pins you to the bed and makes you squirt.

Already knowing what was going to happen, you made a lazy attempt to get out the 'terrifying' grasp of this old man. Moving to slide off the bed, but that didn't work.

His hand grabbed your shoulder, screaming this is your fault. You made me do this, and he wasn't going to be sorry at all. Pulling you back into the bed, head pushed into the pillow. Eyes staring wide up at him as he pinned you to the bed. Brows furrowed and face determined to prove otherwise. Hands pushing you into the bed by your shoulders. Yet gentle enough to not leave a bruise. That made your thighs clench, so cute.

“This old man still got it, baby doll. You really wanna play this game? I'll play it, too.” He'll play this game dirty, naughty, sexy.

Leon leaned forward, gently capturing your lips in a kiss. Passionately and slowly making out with you. Twirling your tongues around like it was his day-job. Maybe it was, seeing how he eats pussy so fucking good. Trying to ignite that burning passion he always liked. On the kitchen counter, his motorcycle, the car, work, the list went on and on. Hand trailing lower and lower as he occupied your mind. Tongue occupying your mouth. Expensive cologne pungent off his body, surrounding you in him.

Your whines being muffled from the kiss, making the old man pull away. That damning cocky smirk on his face as he taunted you,

“Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you. Speak louder, honey.”

A moan came from your lips as he pinched your clit. Making you claw at the pillows beneath your head. Hand slapping your cloth panties. Electricity running up your spine to your head.

“Fuck, d-daddy!” You choked out, watching as he teased and toyed you. He just had to fuck around with you. Put the young one in his place, like a rookie at work, the karens at stores. Leaning to your ear

“She's so needy, babydoll. Need your old man to make it better? But you probably don't like an old man, hm? Rubbing his fingers over your folds and clit.”

He hissed into your ear, nibbling on the edge. Pulling away to look down at those cute cotton panties. He always ruined them, sniffed them, came in them. His panties, too. Always will be his panties. Moving to move those panties aside, tugging them to reveal that glistening feast. Sopping wet for him to bury into. Like the breakfast at IHOP or McDonald's he would get. Devoured in mere minutes.

Leon positioned himself between your thighs, nose buried in your folds. Sniffing the sweet scent it emitted. That slightly tangy taste it had as well. He breathed it in like his last breath. The last meal he would have before death row. Being executed for serving his country too well, and serving your cunt, as well.

“Could get used to this any day. Wish my job was as easy as sitting down and eating this precious purr-ty pussy. Mewing for some milk, like always.” He purred, staring at you through his eyes lashes.

“P-purr-ty? What the fuck doe— AH!”

His tongue buried into you, licking up, down, left, and right. Coming up every once in a while to suck your clit. Make him drown in that pussy, baby. He needs it, he needs it like God. Make him get on his knees and pray.

“Didn't say you could talk, baby. Maybe you need a lesson on listening, again.” He tutted, sucking on your nub, again. Making your toes curl and hands clench again. Too good at this, imagine how many moms or younger girls would want this. Those twenty-year-old college girls wanting a middle-aged guy between their thighs. Mmmm, made you wet just thinking about how he's yours.

Tongue swirling, your hips bucking, and hand now buried in his locks. Threatening to pull his hair out. You pressed into his face, in which he pressed back. Drown him, suffocate him, make him die, honey.

Your legs tensed as you neared that high. C'mon, keep going! “I'm gonna— I'm gonna!—”

Selfishly, he pulled away. Wet dripping down his nose to his stubble. Looking at deranged as he looked up, sitting up. Hands fumbling with his shirt as he rushed to fuck into you. He wanted it. No, he needed it. Needed to be buried in that fat fucking pussy. Make it drip with his cum, eat it out, and impregnate it if he could. Wanted to see you leak breastmilk and be full of him.

“Not yet, I didn't say you could. Little slut.”

Noticing the change of pace, you reached out, only to be met with him yanking you. Stomach pressed into the bed, and head pulled back. His free hand tugging his jeans and boxers down. Fuck, he was hard. Harder than steel. His bicep wrapped around your throat, and his nose buried in your hair. Pants of exhaustion coming from him. He got so tired easily, old man in his heart.

Harshly, his hips thrusted against yours. Not even being enough of a gentleman to give a warning shot. No head against your little hole, fully sheathed in. The groan that came from his lips could've made you cum on the spot.

“Oh fuck…”

The claps followed afterward, body moving up and down with his rhythm. Ass moving at the rhythm, as well. Your fingers digging into his arm as he tightened the headlock. Enough to make it pleasing enough, your eyes rolled back. Mouth agape as you sprouted out moans and small noises. Squishy wet sounds following after his thrusts.

Leon looked down at you, a toothy smile on his face. Always what he wanted, that fucked out look. So sweet, like an angel. Should've gotten his phone, but he was too enthralled in this now. That pretty little mouth needed a little love. So, he pulled your head back more. A small pained moan coming from your lips.

“Need a little loving from daddy, huh? Need daddy to fill this fuckin' cunt with his kids. Wanna stay in this bed full of 'em? Such a good slut, baby. Fuck the Redfield bloodline, Kennedy bloodline is gonna be bigger and stronger than that fuckin' boulder.”

Leon spat straight into your mouth, making you clench. Hitting the back of your throat. It tasted so disgusting, but it was hot. Alongside the few drops of spit, he let drip so slowly into your mouth. The wait was killing you!

“Swallow daddy, baby. Better than Gordon Ramsay, too. With this pussy, you put him to shame.”

Who couldn't obey a man like him? Strong government agent who kills for a living. Wouldn't want to anger daddy, would you? So, you swallowed. Right down your throat, and it made you gag a little. Couldn't say you hated it, it would just make him concerned. He was a softie deep down, always stopping whenever your face changed slightly. Got annoying when you literally just wanted to cum! Like, shut up, and just FUCK ME!

"S'close. Gonna cum for you! Wan' cum!” You whined, moaning pitifully. Ass raised against his pelvis. Balls slapping against your lower half. How would you explain to your parents you're a little cock sleeve to a government agent? I mean, at least it pays in a free apartment, car, and food! Plus whatever you counted Leon as.

“Really baby? That drunk off me? Mmmm, we love to hear that. Let daddy do it for you.” He whispered, voice still like honeyed whiskey.

Hips picking up its pace as it abused your cunt wider and wider. Only for him, and always open for him. Bringing him to the tip of the iceberg as he came inside you. Hips pushing against yours fully, and his tip at your cervix. He panted, burying his face in your neck. Those words, the pace, and his arm. You came on the spot, leaking down his cock and balls. Hands wanting to rip those sheets in front of you. Balled the fabric into your fist. Dripping onto the sheets below.

“Post nut clarity, damn.” Leon chuckled. Arm falling from around your neck. Bringing it down to interlace your fingers. “You good? I didn't, like, y'know? I'm not the best with words, c'mon.”

Mmmmm, body already responding as he gently pulsed around him. Head nodding in response to his query.

“Mhm, happy. Happy you actually didn't worry!”

You smiled, resting your head in your arms as he slowly moved off of you. Not pulling out, of course. He wouldn't do that just yet, gotta keep the package warm.

“Still an old man, by the way.”

His brows furrowed, sighing in defeat. You were supposed to say you learned your lesson! Regardless, he loved you, even if you were very stubborn.

“You're lucky you're cute…” He muttered, kissing your temple. Those very arms from earlier coming to wrap around you again. His chin propped on top of your head. Seemingly pleased he did a good job. Both of you leaking out onto the bed. Would have to clean that up later…

“You're lucky I like old men, Mr. Kennedy.”

He hummed, closing his eyes. A smile plastered on his lips.

“Think this old man needs a nap, honeybun.”

No, Leon DON—! And he fell asleep, right on top of you… In mere fucking seconds. The sex was a 10/10, but the napping part? Wouldn't recommend.

"Dammit..."

Honestly, you gave up right about now. You'll deal with it later, like you always did. Right now, maybe it was about time for a nap. Even if he was heavy, it was a free blanket. Another cuddle, another round of love-making, and a horrible nap?

You'd always do this again and again.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut

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beautiful-is-boring · 8 months

Text

Made it out alive, just for you

Gojo x gn!reader , angst to fluff, hurt/comfort

Au where gojo lives

Warning: y/n has a nightmare about gojo, MAJOR JJK MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236, so ya it involves blood and a lil bit of gore, and crying.

A/n: i love this man so so much, and whenever I get a bad dream about my loved ones dying, it mostly includes the part after their death and I'm living without them, and when I wake up it's such a relief, so this fic is based on that

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'i miss you so much toru'

the scene never left your head, the love of your life, now lifeless, laid on the ground, wounded and dying after the fight with sukuna

you cried all day, the next day and the next. You couldn't let go of him, and how could you? Satoru was the shining sun in your life. He had the brightest smile, the prettiest baby blue eyes, the strongest will and his love for you was endless. You loved him so so much.

Coming home everyday from work pained you. You would forget that he wasn't here anymore, you would buy mochi on the way home, only to come home and realize he was never coming back, the reality settling in as you cried once more.

'please come back toru, i can't do this without you'

you eat dinner alone again, hugging the adorable custom made plushie of satoru. It was a gift from him. He lovingly said that day, that the plushie would keep you company when he was not with you.

The memory of gojo cut and bloodied plagued your mind and you hugged the plushie tighter

'you are bigger than the whole sky toru, the strongest and bravest of them all. Wherever you are, I hope you rest well. Watch over me, my love'

And then your eyes opened.

You sat up on the bed quickly, looking around everywhere and breathing heavily, just trying to ground yourself into reality.

It was just a dream. A bad one, but just a dream. You're fully awake by now.

"breathe for me sweetheart"

"T-toru?"

He was right there, your beautiful satoru, gently hugging your shaking body close to him.

"whatever you saw, it wasn't real. I'm here now baby"

You nod. Your mind was a mess. You barely remember what you saw, but it left you feeling terrified.

"Hang in there, I'll get you some water"

He slowly left your shared bedroom and you watched the white tuft of hair disappear into the kitchen. Waking up after countless bad dreams and nightmares was unfortunately common for the both of you, after the fight with sukuna in shibuya.

Right. Gojo defeated sukuna. He won. And he made it out alive.

Your eyes landed upon the custom plushie across the room that gojo gifted you all those years ago

The same one from your dream.

The dam broke. A quiet whimper left your lips as memories of the dream flashed through your mind's eye and by the time satoru returned, you were curled up on your side of the bed, sniffling and weeping.

You heard him place the glass of water on the nightstand, and in the next second he's got you enveloped in his warm arms, gently rubbing your back.

"I-I saw you die toru..I had to live without you and I had to c-come home and you weren't there, a-and you were never coming back" You were sobbing and crying as you hugged him, both from the unsettling dream, and the relief that it wasn't real. You were so, so relieved to be awake, to find your one and only alive and well. Satoru continued to whisper sweet nothings and comforting words into your ears and never once did he loosen up his hold on your trembling frame.

"its okay baby, i know how you feel, and i love you so much, and I'm right here" His sweet and gentle tone combined with his comforting voice made you cry even harder. You didn't know where the tears were coming from.

"i know toru, i know you won, it's just that ever since I saw you like that..." You take a deep breath in and gaze into his beautiful blue orbs that you love. "Just one wrong move, and you would have been gone and i-i don't know what I would do without you being there with me."

Satoru's own eyes welled up with tears because he couldn't bear to see you cry. He cupped your face in his arms, a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he saw you closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

"you are my whole world y/n" His voice wasn't louder than a whisper. Satoru wiped your tears with the pads of his fingers, and kissed your forehead. "That day, I was thinking about you the whole time. I knew I had to come back to you, and I did." A single tear drop trailed down his face and he stroked your head to comfort you. " You don't have to worry anymore, my love. It's all over, and I'm here right here, right now. " You looked at him, reassured and he could feel his heart swell as he looked at his world, his universe, right there in his hands. "Thankyou satoru" He smiled, and you did too.

Satoru leant in and kissed you ever so slowly, reminding you that he was right there with you, alive. You both smiled into the kiss, knowing that you love each other with every fiber of your being and most importantly,

You were right there with each other; physically, and in each other's hearts.

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months

Text

Sleepless

a/n absolutely self indulgent because no joke I woke up last night from the most insane nightmare and the first thing I called out to was Simon so here's some fever dream goodness for you. ✨🫴🏼

summary: Simon comfort reader after a nightmare.

warning: nightmares lol

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It was a strange feeling to be the victim of your mind. You could go out there on the battlefield and turn it all off. You could be fearless and deadly. Many shivered when they walked by. You could turn it off. Could pull on a mask and be someone you failed to recognize. But at night, when you were back at the safety of the base and no specific tasks kept you awake, you felt so helpless that you wanted to weep.

Sure, almost everyone had nightmares. Yes, they weren't real. A mix of subconsciously selected images. But there was just something so specific about them. It was so painful, real, and raw that it had you waking up night after night with a rapidly beating heart. Or even worse, covered in sweat as you jolted up with a scream. Those nights were the hardest because you weren't able to find sleep again. Every shadow seemed to be hunting you. Every sound made you flinch as you counted the moments till sunrise.

"Sugar?", your name being called out made you blink a couple of times. Right, shit, a debrief. You quickly scanned the room. All eyes were on you. You needed to come up with something. Something that would land regardless. "We can always just try what most of the team believes is the right...", you started, "What most team believes about barbecue? Right boys, what's your thoughts on grilled sausages?" Price called out, earning a handful of chuckles. A barbecue? Had you been that out of it? This was supposed to be a debrief for the last mission...

"The only flaw was the way we entered. He wants to try to regroup". Ghost's low voice rang from beside you. "Price's wife is celebrating her birthday this weekend and wants us over for a barbecue." You turned your head toward him slightly. His arms were crossed over his chest, his head facing forward towards the team, but because of the mask, it was impossible to see him speaking. "Thank you," you muttered back, running a hand over your face. "You're sick or something?", Ghost asked once again. Maybe you were just imagining him speaking. A man never spoke that much. "Maybe you should go to the medical bay," he suggested, and you shook your head. "Nothing a couple of hours of sleep can't fix," you gave Simon a tight smile as you pulled back from the wall you two had been standing by. Just before you could fully step away from his reach, Ghost swiftly wrapped his palm around your upper arm. "You don't have to tell me, but at least talk to one of the boys. Johnny might...", but you cut him off by placing your hand over his chest, "I'm fine, Ghost, nothing happened." His eyes told you that he didn't believe a word you said but admitting that you struggled to sleep and even more so avoided sleeping because of the nightmares, no... That made you feel too childish.

But Simon wasn't stupid. He had an eye for little things. Little changes. Little energy waves, if you will. And everything about you has been screaming wrong for weeks now. You two weren't together, but he always treated you differently. Not because you were a female. No. Just because you respected his boundaries. Respected his privacy. Ghost still remembered that one night when he was enjoying his two-am tea and you stumbled into the kitchen. A long shirt was the only thing on your body. He had been in a particularly broody mood that night, so even when you asked him a couple of questions, he simply stared at you and said nothing. He was waiting for you to roll your eyes or call him an asshole. But instead, you smiled and started explaining to him how you enjoyed your instant ramen. Without realizing it, Simon found himself smiling beneath his mask. You were babbling about how Price would kill you if he saw the amount of cheese you put in your bowl. "You will not turn me in, right?", you had asked, a handful of shredded cheese in your hand. Simon had simply tilted his head to the side, and you had taken it as a yes, shoving the cheese in your mouth as you giggled.

That side of you had been long gone. Your face has grown slightly ashy. Your eyes were dull. You could barely keep up with a conversation. Yes, you still managed to perform amazingly during missions, but they chipped at the last bits of your strength, and it showed.

If Simon was being honest, he knew what this was about. Your room was next to his on the base, and the walls weren't particularly thick. So it was almost a nightly thing. He just laid there, listening to you whimper. Panting once you were lucky enough to claw yourself out of the nightmare.

He had wanted to come knocking more than once. He almost always found himself with a hand on the doorknob, but he always stopped. Because who was he to comfort someone? He wasn't a big teddy bear. No, Ghost was a man with a past just as brutal and controlling. One that also hunted him from time to time.

Just tonight, it all seemed ten times worse. Simon tried to occupy himself with a handful of paperwork and reports he had to finalize, but your bed was right by the wall where his desk was. Every turn. Every rustle of the sheets. The uneven breathing. Simon gripped his pen tighter. But then, as silent as a wind, a light, "Please," cut through the silence. Simon stared at the wall ahead of him. It was as if the words were engraved on it. Telling himself over and over that he didn't need to get involved. This wasn't his business. He didn't have the right to just walk in. That he...

Ghost pushed back, the chair scraped against the wooden floor. Three long strides, and he was out of his room. Another three to get to your door. It took him a heartbeat to press the door handle down. He wasn't prepared to see your sprawled-out form. The sheets were now mostly laying on the floor. Your scrunched-up face. Hands digging into the mattress. That broke something deep within Simon.

He moved quietly, not wanting to startle you, and just as much, hoping that you would wake up on your own. But your body twisted and turned. The skin growing clammy. It was one of the longest nightmares you had ever had. Not that he was counting, but from the nights he had heard you, this seemed one of the worst. Ghost's mind blanked as he sat on the edge of the bed. What had his mother once said? Shake to wake up, or try to gently pull someone back. No one played nice in the army. You either took it or you ate shit. But still, Simon's cracked and scared hands carefully moved to run up and down your hand.

Another cry slipped past your lips. Simon wished he could kill the person holding you hostage in your sleep. "It's okay," he muttered, trying to remember what comforting someone even felt like. The words felt strange on his lips. "Sug, wake up; it's just a dream," he muttered, pressing slightly deeper into your skin. But it was nothing. Your sweat-soaked face was now covered by stands of hair that had awkwardly stuck all over, but Simon didn't care. He had been in this same place way too many times.

"Y/N," he breathed, moving to clasp your face between his palms, stopping your movement. A breath. One. Two. Your eyes snapped open. A painful inhale pierces your lungs. Hands coming up to grasp Ghost's wrist as your nails dug into his skin. Yet in all of that, it was your frightened eyes that hurt Simon the most. Eyes that now looked so helpless. So desperate. So lost. So in need.

"Simon," you muttered as one wave of panic got overridden by another. "I mean, lieutenant," you muttered, and Ghost couldn't help but roll his eyes, "Seriously? Now of all times, you decide to call me lieutenant." You never addressed him like that. Unless you were pissed off at him and Simon highly doubted, that was the case now.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, brushing your hands through your damp hair. "Did I wake you? Fuck, I'm...", but Simon didn't seem to listen as he leaned over to unlace his boots. Your shivering frame unsettled him. And maybe it was his primal need to protect all women who had ever been in harm's way. Or maybe it was that stupid warm feeling that flared when he was next to you, but when Simon looked at you once again, he simply motioned for you to scoot over.

"What are you..." you muttered in confusion. "You are still shaking, and that looked like one fucked nightmare," Ghost said bluntly as he slowly got comfortable in your bed. You knew that he was a kindhearted person under that cold mask, but this. You were convinced you ground his gears, and now... "You don't fancy lying down?", he asked, almost in a teasing way, making you blink again. You could still feel the aftermath of your dream. Pumping through your veins.

Maybe this was a dream too. Was there a way to fall from one dream to another? But then the same flickering images of the dream you just had came flooding back. One breath . Another. Your hands instantly reached for the man lying not far from you. Were there rules? Things you shouldn't do? You didn't seem to care as you snaked your hands around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him. His warmth seeped through your skin. The rapid heart was now beating against a much steadier chest. "Simon," you muttered. And you knew that he hated it when people called out his name like that. He hated when they dug his identity to the surface, but you needed him. You needed Simon, not Ghost, not your LT.

"Right here, doll," he breathed. "Simon," you muttered once more. His hands had now matched yours; they had just found shelter against your hips. Rubbing slow circles there. "Please," you breathed out. Not sure as to what you were calling out for, but knowing real well that Simon was the realest thing in your universe now. "I've got you, ya? I'm holding you right now. Whoever chased you in your sleep won't get to you now", Ghost said firmly, "I won't let them."

You sighed again on his shoulders, holding him as tightly as you possibly could. "What do you need, Sug?", Simon asked in a much calmer tone now. "Talk to me," you muttered. "Just..."—you almost didn't know how to explain it. Your mind was still holding you hostage. You needed new images. New stories to fill your senses. Draw up new patterns. And Ghost surprisingly didn't miss a beat: "You know Johnny was trying to convince me today that microwaving water is a way of making tea." You lifted your head off Simon's shoulder, leaning back slightly to catch his gaze. "I know; I looked at him the way you are looking at me now," Ghost stated with a huff. "I told him that fuck his war crimes, his soul is going to hell for that alone," Simon added with a shake of his head, and you felt your lips tugging upwards slightly until a light chuckle slipped past them.

"I'm glad you find it funny because I saw it as a disgrace to England itself." His accent thickened, and you could almost hear the smile on his lips as he spoke. You chuckled slightly. "He is a disgrace to this team," you said with a serious look on your face, and Simon was quite the match. "I'll talk to Price in the morning. We'll send him to Neverland." Cackling, you leaned against Simon's chest; his much bigger palms quickly moved to run up and down your back.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked after a moment of silence, but you quickly shook your head. The last thing you needed was to go back. You felt Ghost nodding slightly, "We can talk when you want," his fingers reaching up to comb your hair. "For now, you are safe. I will always keep you safe". The last word came out more like a whisper, but you still caught on to it.

"Simon," you muttered, earning a hum in return,"If you... could you stay?" You were so glad your room was only dimly lit because your cheeks felt as if they were on fire. Ghost let out a slight chuckle. "Does it look to you as if I'm about to go?", he questioned your statement in an almost self-explanatory manner, "Way too comfortable to move now, love." His arms held onto you just a bit tighter, and you didn't skip a beat to do the same. "Thank you," you said softly, knowing that this deserved way more and better words. "Say less; you know I've got you," Simon pressed a tender kiss on your hair, "Now sleep." Reaching to the side, he pulled the blanket over the two of you. "Can you play with my hair?", you said through a yawn. "Already so fucking demanding," Simon chuckled, yet his fingers threaded through your hair straight away.

#simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod x you #cod imagine #cod x reader #cod simon riley #cod simon ghost riley

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grandlinedreams · 7 months

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hi i literally love all of ur posts u nail all of the characters its crazy.

one of my favorite tropes is hidding an injury and getting the classic “who did this to you.”

if ur still taking requests and are in an angsty mood would u plzzz write this with zoro?

Hhjg I try, thank-you!! But also mood it's just so GOOD and I hope that I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: mentions of canon typical violence, blood/mention of an infected wound, angst]

Staring down at the gash in your side, you bite back a hiss as you prod at it, the weep of milky fluid from it. The split skin is puffy and an angry red, heat eminating from it ㅡ it doesn't take a genius to know that it doesn't look good.

Normally you'd have the little handful of supplies from Chopper, tucked away in your backpack ㅡ but it's gone, along with everything else beyond your weapon.

At least you're not wandering around by yourself, though. As if on cue, there's the sound of footsteps behind you, and you drop your shirt back over the poorly bandaged wound.

"What are you doing over here?"

"Just fine," you answer as you turn towards Zoro. "I wanted to see if we could reach a clearing and get a good read on where we are."

"Fair enough." Zoro studies you for a minute, and you worry that he's going to know about the wound on your side ㅡ the one you'd casually "forgotten" to mention to him. "So which way should we be heading?"

"West," you answer, glancing up at the sky. The sun has begun its slow arc of descent, and you sigh. "We need to hurry, or we'll end up needing to camp for the night."

"Right." You turn to watch Zoro go, feeling the irritated twitch of a muscle in your jaw.

"Zoro. That's east."

ㅡ

By the time the sun has set, it's clear that something is wrong.

There's a fine layer of cold sweat on your face that you scrub at, trying to ignore the heaviness of your limbs and throbbing ache of your side. "We should stop for the night," you hear yourself say, "it's useless to try and navigate after dark."

Zoro grunts his agreement and turns to look at you, brow furrowing. "Are you sure you're alright?"

You want to answer him, you really do. But your ears are ringing, mouth full of cotton when you try to answer. Dark spots dance around the edges of your vision, and you're distantly aware of Zoro's noise of alarm when your legs finally give out.

"'m fine," you finally manage before the dark spots expand, sinking you down into the silent black of unconsciousness.

ㅡ

You wake to the awkward bulk of a backpack under your head and the smell of woodsmoke. Sitting up, you blink when a damp cloth drops from your forehead into your lap.

"Finally awake?" Sitting nearby, Zoro prods at the fire with a long stick before he turns towards you. "You have a fever."

Your hand slides to your side, feeling the stiff press of bandages underneath, the answering throb of the gash beneath.

"Took care of that too." Zoro's gaze is sharp. "I'm not Chopper, but it'll do for now. Mind explaining who did that and why you didn't bother telling me?"

It's clear he's far from amused, and you look away, feeling guilty. "Happened when we all got separated," you say, "and I didn't think it was going to be that much of an issue."

Zoro wants to scold you, but he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he did given the amount of times he's blatantly ignored his injuries. Instead he sighs, watching the logs crackle for a moment. "Hope you killed the guy who did it."

"Of course I did," you answer with a hint of pride, and Zoro smirks.

"Good."

ㅡ

"I think this is a little excessive, Zoro."

"You still have a fever," Zoro says as he adjusts his grip on your legs, "and we won't get anywhere if you collapse on me again." He feels you tense, and he frowns. "How are you feeling, anyways? And don't lie."

"A little better." You rest your forehead against his shoulder, and though he won't admit it out loud, the fact he can feel warmth radiating from your skin worries him. "I'm sorry about this."

"Still should have told me," he says, though his tone is softer, his grip tightening on your legs. "Idiot. We're crewmates, aren't we? We're supposed to trust each other."

"I do trust you."

"Then act like it." He stares ahead, footsteps steady. "Don't go getting hurt and then hiding anymore, you hear me?"

"I hear you." You pause. "Zoro?" He grunts in answer, and you exhale softly. "Thank-you."

Zoro tells himself that his heart doesn't pick up a little bit at how soft your voice is, the cling of your body against his. And that he definitely isn't blushing, just a little. "Yeah, yeah. Can't have you die on me and leave me to deal with that stupid cook all on my own."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 5 days

Text

Yandere Prince x Witch! Reader

TW: Drugging (Love Potion), dubcon

Wanna buy me a coffee?: ☕

Once upon a time, in a land full of magic, a witch is in her tower stirring liquid in her cauldron.

"Ok, my seafood boil should be ready," You say, wiping the sweat off your head.

Your phone rings from the counter, and zap it so it answers the call.

"Y/N, we've gotta go to this ball!" Your friend, Ella, full name Eleanor Charming, exclaims, making you roll your eyes.

"Ella, just because your family has extreme luck finding love at balls, doesn't mean I will. Besides, I like living in the woods. The princess with powers and Eduardo are good friends. I babysit their kids sometimes, real firecrackers," You respond, tying your hair up. "Now, if you excuse me, I have crab legs to eat."

"Too late, I already magiced up a dress for you!" Ella exclaims, appearing behind you. "Boom!"

White light hits you, and suddenly, your comfy purple pajamas are replaced with a long, purple ball gown with black lace covering the front. You have long, black latex gloves and thigh-high high-heel shoes swirling around your legs made from crystal. Your hair is in a bun and is held by an ornament resembling thorns.

"You really chose a look that says I'm from the Woods, huh?" You question, walking to Ella.

"Yes, I did. Now, come on, we're about to be late!" Ella giggles, grabbing your hand and running to the black Mercedes outside your castle. "I modified the animal into carriage spell into something more modern."

You buckle your seatbelt, and Ella speeds off to the prince's castle. As you wait in the line of limos, you redo your lipgloss and spritz a bit of perfume to get the crab smell of your skin.

"It's our turn, get ready!" Ella squeals, giving the car to the valet.

"Princess Ella Charming and her friend, Lady Y/N L/N!" The announcer yells as the two of you walk into the ball.

"Wow, this place is bright," You comment, looking at all the jewels, lights, and glamor.

"I know, right? It's so we can glimmer as we dance," Ella exclaims, dancing away with a man.

"Well, I've been left alone," You grumble, grabbing a glass of wine and walking to the hallway.

While exploring the castle, you find a path leading to the royal garden. You see a handsome man with blonde hair, tan skin, and greenish-blue eyes crying near a large fountain with a mermaid spitting water. You realize it's Prince Henry's younger brother, Prince Helio.

"Henry...why did you have to go?" He cries, making you feel sorry for him.

"Uh, hi! Sorry to interrupt your crying session, but would you mind me asking what's wrong?" You ask, revealing yourself.

"Oh, sorry. I'm supposed to be out there finding a queen to rule with, but I'm out here crying over my brother. Henry was such a good older brother to me. He helped me with studies and sword training, but then he went into those woods and never came back. Now, here I am about to be king alone with only my mom and dad as family," The young man weeps, wiping tears from his face.

You knew what happened to the former Prince Henry. Everyone in the Woods did. But, it's things like this that are the reason people like you live in the Woods.

"I'm sure your brother misses you dearly. Even if he can't come back, I'm sure he'd want you to be a good king to your people," You comfort him, handing him your glass of wine. "Besides, it's your party. Wouldn't exactly want to let everyone down, would you?"

"You're right. I, Prince Helia, shall make this the best pre-engagement party in this kingdom. Now, do you desire another drink, love?"

"Yes, and just so you don't have to keep calling me love, my name is Y/N L/N."

Prince Helia leaves to get a cup of wine for you, and he pulls out a pink vial from his cape and pours it into your wine. He shakes the cup a little and lets the potion settle into the wine. He smiles lustfully, knowing he'll have the eternal love, the fairy tale ending he always wished for.

"Here's your class of wine, princess," Helia says, passing you the drink while he secretly pours the rest of the vial into his wine. "To happy endings!"

"To the Woods!" You proclaim, wrapping your arm around his to do your toast.

"To love!" You and Heli exclaim, drinking the wine.

When the wine travels down your throat, the potion takes effect immediately. You feel dizzy, and your wine falls to the ground. You fall, and Helia catches you.

"My love, are you ok?" Prince Helia asks, holding you in his arms as he feels his heart beating.

"Helia~" You moan, sitting up and leaning in to kiss him.

You kiss Helia, and it's like you both have lost control of your body and emotions. The kiss feels so good, you could've sworn you are in heaven. His hands roam your body as your tongues intertwine. Spit comes out of both of yours and Helia's mouths, and his short blonde hair ruffled as your hands run through it.

"I love you. I love you. I love you!" Helia chants, his kisses trailing down your neck.

"Ah-ah~" You moan, sticking your neck out as leaves his mark.

Helia undoes your corset, and he throws it to the side. Your dress falls to your waist, leaving your breasts bare for him to see. You quickly shimmy off the rest of the dress and kiss Helia again.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, darling," Helia compliments, his eyes full of lust and love. "I need to worship your body. Come here and let your prince worship every inch and imperfection of your body and soul."

"Yes, my love," You reply, straddling Helia.

Your beloved prince traces every part of your body with his hand and circles the beauty, birth, and stretch marks. He kisses your clavicle, breasts, armpits, every body part on the way down to your pussy. When he finally reaches your clothed sex, Helia kisses it.

"Helia, I'm-"

"A virgin? I know. But that doesn't matter because I would've loved you even if you weren't. I love everything about you. Your stretch marks, your body hair, even your scars."

Helia gently takes off your underwear and spreads your legs. He deeply kisses the entrance of your pussy, and he inhales the scent of it. His tongue enters your vagina, and your body can't help but react. Your back arches and your hands grip the stone steps. As Helia eats you out, your hips buck into his face. Helia speeds up his licking, and you suddenly start to feel weird.

"Helia, I feel strange!" You moan, sitting up.

"It's ok, my love, embrace that feeling," Helia replies, giving one last kiss to your pussy and kissing your inner thighs as you cum.

Helia begins to strip, and his clothes go flying off. His six-inch cock drips with precum, and you instantly want it in you.

"I'll be gentle. I know it's your first time. God, I can't wait to make love to you and give our kingdom an heir," Helia says, crawling towards you and lining up with your entrance.

You lift your legs to give him room, and he holds your hands. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he kisses you deeply.

"I'm going to enter you. Tell me if there's any pain," Helia states, slowly inserting his dick in you.

You twitch in pain, and Helia's hands are on your face. He kisses you again, and you kiss him in return.

"I'm ready, Helia," You say, looking at his beautiful green eyes. "I'm ready for you."

Helia thrusts slowly, panting and moaning as if your body is sweet nectar. His steady rhythm of thrusting sends your body into ecstasy.

"Mm~ Helia," You moan, feeling Helia's cock move in your pussy and kisses on your neck.

"Are you enjoying me, my love?" Helia questions, speeding up the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Yes! Yes!" You exclaim, loving your high.

Your toes begin to twitch, and hearts appear in your and Helia's eyes. Helia's thrusts speed up, as do his kisses. Love bites cover your neck as Helia reaches his orgasm.

"I-I love you, my-my princess! I love you!" Helia stammers, climaxing and cumming into your pussy. His legs twitch as he orgasms.

"Oh-oo-ah-Helia!" You scream, your toes curling from the release and your pussy tightening around Helia's dick.

Helia kisses you, tears flowing from his eyes as he rides out his climax. When he's done, his sweaty body rests on yours.

"I love you. I-I love you so much, Y/N. I want to be with you forever. I need you," Helia rambles, resting his head on your chest.

"I know, my prince. I know," You pant, rubbing Helia's head.

~~~~~~~~~

After your passionate session with Prince Helia, your prince covers both of you with his cape. He's been kissing your skin since fucking you, holding you in his arms as if you would go away.

"I'll announce our engagement tomorrow, and we'll be married next week," Helia says, kissing your hand, knuckles, and fingers.

You fall asleep in your prince's arms, and he kisses you goodnight.

"Goodnight, my darling."

#sanyuthewitch05 #yandere prince #yandere boy #male yandere #f!reader #yandere smut #yandere dubcon

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dandylovesturtles · 3 months

Text

More TMNT AU Comp propaganda! It's for 100 Feet and a World Away this time!

Today's special guest star is Raph from Empyrean Weeping by @cupcakeslushie ! Cupcake has been very kind to me since I joined the Rise fandom and her AU is just incredible! If you're somehow not already following it go check it out!

(I reference one of the later comics that may not line up with the timeline the boys are supposed to be at for the comp haha... but hopefully that's alright!)

This is the direct sequel to this ask that I answered yesterday (the 100ft part of it). Laxative pranks can actually be super dangerous and I am exploiting that for angst. ^^

cw: emeto (vomit); it's quick and not very graphic but it's there

-----

There's so many turtles crammed into this space and way too many of them look like his little brother. Trying to find Mikey is starting to feel like... what do the scientists say? A needle in hay? Something like that.

None of this is helping the panic that's spiking in Leo's chest. They've never been apart - not like this, not where Mikey is free to move and Leo has no way of knowing where he is or who he's with. Calling his name in this crowd doesn't help; the only thing he has going for him is his Mikey is the one not wearing an orange mask.

His Mikey is the one not- oh!

Leo's relief at finding him dies instantly when he sees the state his little brother is in.

Mikey's standing, but he has his arms curled tight around his stomach. He's swaying slightly on his feet, and when Leo gets closer he realizes that Mikey's lips are stained blue.

"Mikey!" he calls as he jogs up, putting his hands firmly on Mikey's shoulders. He's shaking, and Leo doesn't feel very stable himself. "Mikey, what's wrong? What happened?"

Mikey's glassy eyes finally find Leo's face, and the relief that washes over him is visible. Leo wishes he felt as good about the situation. "Leo... Mm." He swallows miserably. "Don't feel good."

"What hurts? Your stomach?"

"Mm-hm..."

"Are you going to throw up?"

"...Mm-hm."

Leo has no idea what to do about this. He and Mikey don't get sick very often, but when they do it's better to be sick in their enclosure so the scientists don't complain as much. But there's no enclosure here, and no scientists, just the big open space and crowds and crowds of people. He doesn't know what to do, or how to fix this, or what even caused this in the first place-

Mikey solves the immediate problem by turning his head and throwing up on the floor. There's various exclamations of disgust from the people around them, and they move away; at least it gives Leo and Mikey some space.

"Okay," says Leo, shifting to get out of the splash zone and rubbing at Mikey's shell. He knows how to comfort Mikey, even if his mind is still whirring over how to fix it. "That's alright, buddy. Get it out, okay?" Whatever it is.

"L-leo," Mikey whines, grabbing for him with one hand. "It h-hurts..."

"I know. I know, I'm sorry, I don't... the scientists aren't here to give you medicine, but..." But what? What is he going to do? Mikey's counting on him, but... "What happened? Did you eat something?"

"Mmm... some kind of dri-" Mikey cuts himself off with another heave, and Leo holds him through it. A drink? Someone gave him a drink that made him sick!?

Leo holds Mikey through the next wave of sickness, rubbing his shell and trying to school his thoughts into a plan of action. Normally at this point the scientists would examine Mikey for what caused the illness and then administer aid, but Leo doesn't know how to do that alone. Why didn't he pay more attention? Why hadn't he learned what to do?

"Leo!" he hears a familiar voice call. He looks up, wild-eyed and panicked, into the face of a very frazzled looking April.

"Oh, Mikey," she says when she draws level with them, reaching out to rub his arm. Leo feels a wave of bitterness when Mikey leans into it. "Poor thing... What happened?"

"He... he says he drank something, I don't know." Leo hates how little information he has. "I... I lost him in the crowd," he explains, leaving out how Mikey had run away from him.

"Drank something!?" April chews on her lip, then nods. "Okay, don't worry. I'm gonna handle this." She looks back at Leo. "I saw a med station before - I'll take him there. They've gotta have some anti-emetics."

Leo hadn't known about any of that, but April comes up with the answer so quickly. The inadequacy he feels is sharp.

"I can take him there," he says, even though he doesn't even know where he's going.

"No, I'll take him," April asserts, like she knows. "You guys all split off and now Raph's alone and he's getting agitated; I need you to go over there. Having one of you close will calm him down."

Leo feels a rush of panic, and he grips Mikey's arm. "You're taking him from me?"

"No, Leo, I am not," she says, firm. "I am not taking him from you. I'm taking him to the med station."

"Without me!"

"Because I need you to help Raph." She reaches her free hand for Leo, but he dodges. "I know you're scared right now," she says, and Leo scoffs, "but I can take care of Mikey, and you can take care of Raph. I need you to trust me."

Leo doesn't want to do this. Everything in him is screaming to not let Mikey out of his sight, not even for a second, not when he's sick, vulnerable, scared-

"Leo," comes a soft voice, and his eyes trail down to Mikey's face. Mikey is now fully leaning into April - Leo doesn't know when Mikey moved away. Leo doesn't know when he let go. "It's okay."

Leo doesn't want to do this. But Mikey's made his choice, and Leo doesn't know what to offer. April knows what to do and he doesn't. He's lost.

He looks at the human, and for once he bares his teeth. "If anything happens to him-"

"You'll kill me, I know," she says, and smiles as she does, fond. Like this is some kind of joke, and he suddenly feels a swell of aggression, like he wants to reach out and smack that smile right off her face-

It dies immediately, a rush of cold water down Leo's spine. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. He doesn't! Not even April, definitely not now. He just... He's...

I know you're scared right now.

April wraps her arm around Mikey's shoulders and says something to him that's too quiet for Leo to hear. Then she looks back.

"Raph's over there," she says, nodding. Leo can see him, standing up tall and sniffing the air; he's making distressed noises, looking around with his eyes that don't seem to see. Those around him are giving him concerned, wary looks, giving him a wide berth.

Leo takes a step in Raph's direction, then looks back at April, who gives him a relieved smile.

"Thank you, Leo," she says. "And if you see Donnie, tell him to stay put until I get back."

Then she leads Mikey away.

Leo watches until he can't see them anymore, then he goes to Raph.

-----

They're sitting against a wall now, Raph curled up on the ground and Leo sitting against his side. Raph has calmed down since Leo came to him, but he must be able to pick up on Leo's anxiety, because he doesn't sleep, just sniffs the air and thumps the floor rhythmically with his tail.

Leo doesn't do anything to soothe him, because that would require being soothed himself. And he can't calm down - his heart has been beating at double time since he found Mikey, and he doesn't think it's going to stop until Mikey is back and safe.

He pulls his legs closer to his chest, his foot tapping in time with Raph's thumping. Maybe he should be looking for Donnie, but he can't leave Raph, and he's not sure he wants to see Donnie and tell him what happened yet. About how completely useless he was in keeping their little brother safe. At least Raph doesn't fully understand...

His eyes burn, and he buries his face in his arms. He's not going to cry. He hasn't cried in years and he's not going to cry now.

He's not going to cry, he's not going to cry, he's not-

"Uh, hey."

He jerks his eyes up, glaring at the person who just spoke to him. Another Raph, this one wearing a red mask and wraps and walking and talking like a person. Like most of the Raphs here.

(Why can't his Raph be like those Raphs, he thinks, and then immediately feels even more guilty.)

The Raph raises a tentative hand, giving him a little wave. Leo sniffs, blinks away, the not-tears, and narrows his eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Woof, okay," says Raph, rubbing the back of his neck. "Probably should have expected that... Uh, I just, noticed you sitting here, and you seemed pretty upset, so-"

"I'm not upset," Leo snaps, and hopes his voice doesn't sound as hoarse to Raph as it does to him.

"Oh. Yeah. Guess you are," he says, and Leo huffs, forcing himself to straighten out so he looks as okay as he says he is. The Raph still isn't leaving. "So, my bros went to get snacks... Mind if I sit here while I wait for them to get back?"

Leo wants to tell him no, but that might give more evidence that he's not, in fact, okay, so instead Leo shrugs. What is it the scientists say?

"It's a free country."

Raph laughs. "Not sure we're even in a country anymore."

Leo shrugs again. He doesn't actually know what a country is, so it doesn't matter to him.

The Raph sits, right across from Leo with only a few feet between them. For a minute or two, it's silent, with only the sound of the other competitors in the arena, and Raph's incessant thumping. Even though Leo is trying to look chill and cool and unbothered, Raph is still picking up on his anxiety, which isn't helping the runaway beat of his heart.

"Sooo, where's the rest of your brothers?" asks Raph, ending the facade. And bringing them right back to the topic driving Leo crazy.

He goes for the easy answer. "No idea where Donnie is."

"Hah. Your Donnie has a tendency to run off, too, huh?"

"He can take care of himself," says Leo dismissively. He hopes that's where Raph drops it.

But of course he doesn't. Raph looks right at him as he asks, like he knows, "And your Mikey?"

Leo stiffens. Behind him, his Raph makes a distressed whining noise. His fear stink is sharp.

"...He got sick," Leo admits, and the words leave an acrid taste in his mouth. "The human took him to the med station."

Raph tilts his head at that, but he sounds sympathetic when he asks, "Is that what you're worried about?"

"I'm not-" Leo starts, too sharp, too worried, and what's the point of denying it now?

He sinks back, pulling his legs against his chest and burying his face away in his knees again, trying to breathe, trying to calm down. He doesn't want to fall apart here, in front of this guy who isn't his big brother, no matter how much he might wish...

There's shuffling, and then the sound of someone settling down closer. Raph makes a warning noise behind him, and the other Raph says, "Whoa, it's okay. I'm just checking on him."

The sound of sniffing, and then betrayal, as his Raph gives one chuff and settles back. Allowing the new Raph into their space.

"Want to talk about it?" he asks, and his voice is soft and easy.

And maybe it's because there's no point in denying, and maybe it's because Leo's heart is still so fast he can't sit still, and maybe it's because he just misses his big brother so much-

It all comes pouring out at once.

"I tried to warn him," Leo snaps, his head jerking up and his hands flying into wild gestures. "I told him, I told him, don't just eat whatever anyone gives you! And he acted like I was being mean, and he told me to leave him alone, and he ran away!"

"So you got in a fight," says Raph sympathetically. "And then he got sick?"

"I... I guess. He says he drank something, and I think that made him sick." Leo lightly scratches at his arms. His anger dies almost instantly when he thinks of how upset and pained Mikey looked, and he all he feels is the crushing guilt again. "It's not his fault. I'm supposed to look after him, and I... I didn't. I let something happen to him." He swallows, sinking in on himself again. "I wasn't there when I should have been."

Raph sighs, hunching in his own lap, and Leo peeks out at him from over his arm. He doesn't know exactly what he's waiting for - judgement, maybe, because that's all he deserves, and he doesn't mind if it comes from this stranger because it's not like anyone else will give it to him.

"You were looking for him, weren't you?" Raph gives him a crooked grin. "I saw you earlier, running around."

Leo nods, because that much is true, but he doesn't know why it matters.

"So you were doing what you could do," says Raph. "You were still looking out for him, even though he was throwing a tantrum."

"He wasn't throwing a tantrum," says Leo, rushing to defend Mikey, even though... he's still annoyed, maybe, a little, in the back of his mind. "He was just... he... it's not easy."

"It's not easy for you, either, is it?"

Leo shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. I'm the older brother, so it's my job to take care of him."

"Hm." Raph looks at him appraisingly. "Believe it or not, Raph knows a little something about the kind of guilt you're feeling."

"...If you say so," says Leo, because he doesn't know how anyone could.

"I do! Because... once, Raph lost his brothers, too. I... wasn't there for them when I should have been."

Leo feels surprise at that. This Raph isn't like his, not lost in the isolation of his own mind, but... he lost his brothers, too. Just like Leo did.

He uncurls, just a little, watching Raph cautiously. "Did they get hurt?"

"...Yeah. They got really hurt." Raph looks mournful, and Leo almost feels bad for asking. But before he can try to change the subject, Raph continues. "I can't help but feel like... I failed them. And like I didn't do enough to help them, when they needed it."

Leo rubs his palms over his arms. "Because you didn't know how?" he guesses.

"Yeah. I didn't."

"So... what do you do?" Leo uncurls the rest of the way, watching Raph closely. If there's some secret to this, he doesn't want to miss it. "When you feel guilty like that."

All Raph does is shrug, though. "Not much to do but to feel it." His lips twitch up, though, trying to look comforting, and despite himself Leo feels a little warm because of it. "But... someone else told me, leave the past to the ancestors, and worry about the future." Raph reaches out, and pats Leo lightly on the shoulder. "You couldn't stop Mikey from getting sick. But what can you do now?"

Leo thinks about that. What can he do now that Mikey is already sick?

"...There's... a silly song I sing when he's sad, or sick, or whatever," Leo suggests. "I didn't know the lyrics so I just made them up. It... always makes him laugh."

Raph grins big at that. "Okay. So you can sing that for him when you get back to him."

"Yeah. I guess I can."

"There you go." Raph gives him one more pat, then pulls his hand back.

"What if it's not enough, though?" Leo asks, because it doesn't feel like it would be.

Raph shakes his head. "If you're anything like my Leo, I know you're going to keep trying. You'll keep being there for Mikey, for all of them, no matter what happens. And that's enough. Even if it doesn't feel like it, it is."

Leo doesn't know how much he believes that, but... he notices his heart has finally calmed down to its normal rate.

Behind him, his Raph's tail has stopped thumping. With one contented chuff, he settles in to nap. Finally calmed down.

"...I hope so," he says, and Raph beams.

"By the way," he says, "when you said "human"... Did you mean April O'Neil?"

Leo can't help the face he makes. "Don't tell me she's a universal constant, too."

"Hah! Were you raised by Draxum, too?"

"...Who's Draxum?"

"Uh, he's... You know what? Forget Raph even asked..."

-----

April comes back half an hour later. Despite Raph saying he was only waiting for his brothers, he stays with Leo until then. They spend most of that time with Raph telling Leo all about Lou Jitsu, and Leo can't help but be a little excited to watch those movies when they get out.

Or, well. If they ever get out.

"Hey Leo, Raph," says April when she returns, "uh... other Raph."

"Hey!" Raph raises a hand. "You must be their April!"

"Yeah, I am! Nice to meet you."

Before they can get off on any small talk, Leo jumps to his feet, looking worriedly at April. "How's Mikey?" he asks, to get the conversation back on track.

"Oh, he's fine! We got him some medicine and now he just has to sleep it off."

Leo sighs in relief, settling back against his Raph again, who chuffs and snuffles in response. "Can we see him?"

"Yep. I was just coming to get you." She points her thumb back the way she came. "I'll take you and Raph, and then I'll try to figure out where Donnie wandered off to."

The other Raph gets to his feet. "If I see your Donnie, I can send him your way. What's he look like?"

"Uh, no fancy metal shell like the other softshell Donnies, no goggles, no mask," says April. "Acts like a feral gremlin."

"...Well, the lack of gear helps narrow it down," says Raph. "Raph'll tell him to find you if he sees him."

"Thanks, we appreciate it," says April, before turning her attention back to Leo. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." Leo hurries to follow her, then hesitates and looks back. The other Raph is still standing there, watching them go, and he feels like he should at least say...

"Uh, thanks. And... good luck?"

"Oh, yeah." Raph grins. "Good luck to you guys, too!"

Leo gives him one last wave, then turns to follow April, his Raph on their heels.

"Soooo..." April smiles at him. "Looks like you made a friend, huh?"

Immediately, Leo feels his cheeks heat, and he turns away from her, arms crossed tight around his middle. "He was just bothering me, that's all."

"Uh huh," she says, like she doesn't believe him at all. She gives him a companionable nudge with her elbow that he hisses at, but all she does is laugh.

"Come on, grumpy shell. It's this way."

#100 feet and a world away #empyrean weeping au #rottmnt #tmnt au competition #auuuugh #once again this has pretty minimal proofreading because I am so busy rn lol

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