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whateveriwant · 16 days

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Choice

Summary: Simon forces you to choose. Him, your husband… or the other man he found in your bed.

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: ANGST

A/N: Forgive me.

“Simon!” you gasp, bolting upright in bed.

There, darkening the doorway to your bedroom, stands your beloved husband. You thought you'd spotted something lurking in the shadows of your periphery, but rather than it being a mere figment of your imagination like you'd hoped, you've come to find out that's not at all the case.

Simon’s brows are knitted tightly together, the lines framing the sides of mouth deepening as he begins to scowl. “Fuckin’ knew it,” he grits out. “Knew you were a fuckin’ liar.” His eyes flit back and forth between you and the figure lying beside you in bed, and if looks could kill, you'd both be six feet under.

“Simon, no, wait–!” You're quick to shoo the other male from your bed even as your husband storms away. Jumping to your feet, you chase after him, tugging your shirt into place from where it had ridden up. Simon’s just reached the living room when you manage to catch up with him. “Simon, please just–”

“When will enough be enough?” he cuts you short as he whirls around to confront you. You've never seen such anger rippling from him before, and it makes you recoil, stopping dead in your tracks. “When's it gonna end, huh? You promised me you were gonna fuckin’ stop this.”

“I-I-I know I did, Simon,” your voice trembles under the weight of your shame.

He's right. After the last time, you’d told him that was it, that it would never happen again.

So much for keeping your promise.

“I'm– I'm so sorry,” you try to offer him, for whatever it may be worth.

Apparently, it's worth very little as he proceeds to scoff right in your face.

“You’re ‘sorry’?” His expression pinches to show how he takes offense to that apology. “That’s three times this month I've caught you. Three. Let alone how many other times I'm sure have been behind my back.”

Again, he’s right on the target. You’ve been dishonest with your husband, been deceiving him more times than you can even remember at this point. Though you're in no place to feel as if you're the one that's been hurt in this situation, you can't help how his biting words feel like daggers plunging right into your stomach.

Simon sighs and brings a hand up to rub his forehead, the self-soothing gesture doing nothing to soften the lines creasing his skin. After a while, he asks, “Why?” his voice much calmer than it was a moment ago. “Why d’you keep doin’ this? Lyin’? Sneakin’ around?”

When he drops his hand to look at you again, you can see how quickly his emotions have shifted from fury to sorrow. The sight of his grief almost wrenches your heart in two, and you swallow the lump in your throat, your own emotions threatening to spill forth and choke you.

“I… I don't know,” you tell him, yet another lie.

You know the truth behind your actions, the real reason you can't break this bad habit. It's because you're selfish; because you're spineless; because you're fucking weak.

Your answer, the unconvincing slop that is, isn't good enough for Simon, and his shoulders rise in a show of perplexity. “Am I not treatin’ you right? I've been withholdin’ from you? Is that it?”

You're shaking your head before he even finishes the inquiry. “No, Simon. It's nothing like that,” you say.

“Well then, explain it to me.” He tosses a hand into the air, the frustration in his tone palpable. “Because I'm tryin’ to understand what makes him so bloody special. What is it about him that makes you treat me like a fuckin’ afterthought?”

“I don't–!” you begin, the accusation immediately putting you on the defense. But then you pause and intake a deep breath, trying to rein yourself back in. The last thing you want is to strike a match against this highly combustible conversation. If ignited, this powder keg runs the risk of taking you both out with it.

You take another moment to collect yourself before releasing an audible exhale. “Yes, he means a lot to me–”

“Oh, well, I'm bloody well aware of that, thank you.”

You ignore the derisive comment as you continue, “–but you're my husband, Simon. At the end of the day, I always want you,” you emphasize. You can feel a stitch forming between your brows as they slowly pull together. “I know you're upset with me – and I understand, truly – but I… I-I just…” your voice trails off as you consider your next words.

You know what you want to say, what niggling thought you want to express. But you're not sure if voicing it aloud is the right move to take. You're trying to cool down the tension here, not potentially add fuel to the fire.

But as Simon prompts, “What?” you realize there's no backing out of it now.

You sigh. “I just think you're blowing this whole thing out of proportion.”

The way your husband's eyes immediately widen tell you it was probably better to have kept your mouth shut.

“Blowin’ thi–?!” Simon blinks wildly in disbelief, his anger from earlier surging back tenfold. His voice is venomous as he spits, “I catch you lyin’ to me, catch you continuously goin’ behind my back.” He points an accusatory finger in the direction of your bedroom. “I catch you with that filthy shite in our bed–”

“Hey, don't call–”

“–see him lyin’ there, sleepin’ on my fuckin’ pillow, and you think I'm ‘blowin’ this out of proportion’?!” he's fully shouting now, his volume having risen alongside his fury. Simon lets out a dry chuckle that's entirely devoid of humor. “Do you even hear yourself? Do my feelings mean nothin’ to you anymore? Do you– Do you even really love me?” his voice peaks as a wave of despair washes over him.

“Wha–?” Now it's your turn to blink wildly as you're caught off guard by that last sentence. “Of– Of course I do, Simon! Of course.” How can he even ask you such a thing?

“You just love him more, then, right?” The question stings like a punch to the gut.

You shake your head vehemently, asserting, “No. No, of course not!” even as you feel a twinge of guilt pricking the base of your skull.

Just as you're slightly skeptical of your own words, so too is Simon, and he brushes you off with a, “Pssh, right.”

The heightened emotions of the last several minutes persist even as you and your husband lapse into a tense silence.

As you stand there, you watch as Simon begins to harshly run both hands through his hair, not sure what you should say – if there's anything to say in this moment. Though you and he have had this same argument more times than you'd like to admit, something about this time felt different to you, felt like there were higher stakes in the mix. And as you reflect on the quarrel, you can't help how one line in particular sticks out in your mind. ‘You just love him more, then, right?’ he'd accused, bluntly, bitterly.

The idea is ridiculous to you, loving someone else more than your own husband. It sounds like something only a fool could believe.

But if that's the case, why did Simon say it so assuredly?

And why does the thought of it make your stomach clench like there could be some truth behind the claim?

After another few moments of him tugging at his roots, Simon releases a billowy breath. He briefly closes his eyes and shakes his head to himself, before dropping his hands back down by his sides.

“I don't know how much longer I can keep this up,” his voice sounds as exhausted as his body looks. As he peels his lids open to once more lock with your gaze, you feel your own eyes narrowing in your confusion.

“What do you mean?” you ask, voice quiet, timid.

“I mean you need to choose,” he tells you. “Me or him.”

That statement has you balking, the cords that hinge your jaw shut practically snapping. “Si, you– you're not serious.” This has to be some kind of sick joke, right?

“I am.” He nods resolutely. “I can't keep doin’ this – goin’ back and forth with you, wonderin’ if you're really all here with me or not,” he says, frowning. “So you need to choose. Right now. Me… or him.”

It's like you've just witnessed your worst fears materialize before you. Simon, your loving husband, has just asked you to do something that was once completely inconceivable to you. He's asked you to make a world-altering choice: pick between him and someone else.

The decision should be easy – should be obvious – and yet, you find yourself frozen, unable to speak the words you know you should say.

Simon is your husband, the first and greatest love of your life. But this other man he's making you choose between is… well, he's something else to you entirely.

When you're having a rough day and feel like the world is collapsing in around you, he's the first one you want to run to when you need a shoulder to cry on. And conversely, when you're feeling on top of the world, feeling so high up you could reach out and touch the clouds, he's the one you want to call so you can share your joy.

From the moment you met him, you knew he was one of a kind. He's got a smile that could rival a thousand suns, a kiss that could warm the coldest of nights, and the way he looks at you – like you hold the entirety of his universe in the palm of your hand – you think it could keep your heart beating long after it's chosen to stop.

He's your best friend, your other half of a whole, your personal ray of sunshine that cuts through all the gloomy rain. Simon is your husband, yes, that’s true. But this other man is your soulmate, and you know that however long you both shall live, you will love each other until you take your final breaths.

Tears start to bead in your eyes as the answer to your predicament reveals itself to you. And as Simon eventually pushes, “Well? Who's it gonna be?” you know there's only one thing you can tell him.

“Him,” you mutter, feeling the first tear spill over. “H-Him, Simon. Him. I choose… him.”

It's like the planet ceases to spin for a moment as your choice floats in the air like a ghost. At first, you think Simon must assume you're bluffing, what with the way he has no immediate reaction to your response. But as the silence stretches between you and you've yet to renounce your decision, you watch as the realization hits him like a slug to the chest.

Simon's face falls, the color zapping from his skin, and as his eyes start to shine with tears, you find your cheeks flooding with your own.

Simon blinks rapidly, his nostrils flaring as he tries to keep his emotions at bay. His brow furrows like he wants to say something – to argue something – but when he opens his mouth to speak, no words escape. He closes his mouth for a second but then opens it again soon after, once more nothing leaving him but the sound of his breath.

Open then shut, open then shut, he repeats the cycle over and over again, never once managing to get a word out. Finally, after several minutes of waging an internal battle with himself, Simon eventually lets out a low sigh of defeat.

“Then go,” he mutters, gaze falling to the floor. “Just… Just go.”

Your own heart shatters at seeing the pain you've caused your husband. But you can't take back what you've said now, and even if you could, you both know it'd be a lie.

Thus, all you can offer him is a whispered, “I'm sorry.” Any louder and your voice would break from the strain of your cries.

The room falls quiet again as you both let everything sink in. Simon, your husband, the man you'd promised forever to, just put his heart on the line, practically flayed himself open for you… and you didn't choose him.

“I'm sorry,” you say again because you don't know what else there is to do.

Simon waves your apology off with a dismissive hand, still refusing to meet your eye.

Over the next few moments, you continue to sob softly, the sounds of your sniffles puncturing the otherwise quiet house. After a while, you feel the faucet behind your eyes gradually slow to a trickle, and you wipe your face with the back of your shaky hands, swallowing down the last of your tears.

You take another minute or so to compose yourself, still standing before your forlorn husband. Once you feel somewhat well again, you clear your throat, then tip your head back to let out a short, high whistle.

Almost immediately, you hear the telltale noise of feet moving against the hardwood floor. Then, not a beat later, you see the man you'd just chosen rounding the corner to the living room.

“Come here, pup-pup. Come here,” you encourage Riley, your fourteen month old shepherd-mix, forward.

Like the good boy he is, Riley trots closer at your beckoning. But before he reaches you, he makes a pitstop by Simon, shoving his cold, wet nose into the man's empty palm.

Riley gives him a couple boops to the hand, politely asking him for pets. And Simon, for his part, despite still being obviously disgruntled, obliges and gives him a brief, dispassionate rub to the snout.

Having received his desired scritches, Riley then continues over to you, and you crouch down so you can meet him at his level.

“You wanna go cuddle with me some more? Yeah? Do you?” you pitch your voice up in that babyish way Simon pretends to hate.

Riley, however, absolutely loves it, and his tail wags back and forth in a way that says he's all too eager to agree.

“Okay, let's go!” You wave him after you as you take off down the hall.

As you both walk back to the bedroom you'd been occupying earlier, you hear Simon speaking behind you, muttering angrily to himself.

“Mangy fuckin’ mutt. Knew he was gonna be trouble,” he murmurs as he makes up a spot for himself on the couch. “First he steals my bed, then he steals my cuddles, next he'll be stealin’ my fuckin’ car…” his voice peters out the further away you walk.

“Don't mind your daddy. He's just being grumpy as usual,” you stage whisper to Riley as you approach the door to your bedroom.

Letting yourself inside, Riley quickly follows after. You shut the door and then waltz over to the bed, patting the empty space beside you as you settle in.

Swiftly, Riley jumps up to join you, taking the side normally reserved for your husband. He moseys all the way up the mattress until he reaches Simon's pillow, where he proceeds to lay down.

You roll onto your side and start to pet him, scratching that spot behind his ears you know he loves. As you do, you see that infectious smile of his slowly take shape, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as his eyes drift closed.

The sight of him so content makes your own lips upturn into a smile. He is so sweet, so perfectly innocent, that it makes your heart want to burst inside your chest.

And as you continue to cuddle Riley, making little kissy noises in his ear, you know you made the right choice as you grin and ask him, “Who's my favorite boy?”

__________

A/N: April Fools! Hope I didn't break your heart too much lmao!

As always, I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley angst #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2

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starlightervarda · 9 months

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Favourites of the Musical Episode

Uhura starting all this by beaming Anything Goes at the zipper fold. Nyota, you fucking NERD

Spock straight up not having a good time

Number One and Kirk dancing through the hallways

La’An trying very hard not to sing and running to her room to sing her gut-wrenching ballad in private 😭

Pike’s general ????? reaction every time the singing happens

The acapella rendition of the opening credits theme

Chapel getting a sexy club number to say ‘lol sorry this proved much more than I can handle I’m gonna go dig up proto-surgical tools byeeeee’ I mean, it’s horrible, and it’s definitely going to fuck with his head that he took this risk and gave T’Pring very good reason to kal-i-fee him now but it’s also...relatable? Girl has serious wartime PTSD and attachment issues and was fine letting this crush just expire in its own time but got too impulsive and shit got too serious because, Vulcan, and she couldn’t ghost him while they were on the same ship.

Spock’s dark, emo pop-rock realization that he should go kolinahr now

Number One’s comforting confession song to La’An and it lifting them off their feet 🥺

Uhura getting her own ballad in Engineering and that bit at the end where she belts and we get the full-view of the section with the lights was 😩👌 babygirl still needs therapy and an emotional support dog tho

The solution to the singing problem being just more singing but a big cast number that overwhelms the zipper fold into combusting like New Years fireworks

The fucking Klingons’ getting roped in at the last second to add their aggro rap-pop boyband tantrum to the cause!!!!

this episode was a 1701 out of 10 great job everyone

#star trek #Star Trek snw #star trek strange new worlds #spock #Christopher pike #una chin riley #la'an noonien singh #christine chapel #James t kirk #nyota uhura

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comicaurora · 1 year

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I know you done content on hard versus soft magic systems but what is your opinion on crunchy versus smooth?

I will use atla to explain.

Season one The power system is well defined but basic Air Water Earth Fire. Simple to understand very straightforward (smooth)

By the end of the legend of Korra, you have several sub-categories and completely new categories as well (crunchy)

ah, a greebled magic system

I like complicated "crunchy" yet rigidly-defined magic systems, because they give the creator a lot of stuff to play with while also giving them constraints to operate in that dictate a lot of what can and can't happen with the plot. The danger, of course, is in introducing a form of magic that actually makes no sense, or something that devalues other elements of the system because its impact wasn't fully reasoned out, or carving off a part of an existing magic chunk and making it inaccessible for unjustified reasons.

I also feel like sometimes the extra crunch of a magic system can betray a lack of creativity on the part of the creator - having to invent entirely new magics instead of considering new applications for the old ones.

Bloodbending? Lightning-bending as an advanced firebending technique? Combustion Man as a unique one-off assassin? That armless waterbender lady with a completely new martial arts style? Zaheer using airbending to kill the Earth Queen? Dope new applications of existing concepts that make the magic system feel large, fluid and powerful. These are extensions of existing concepts that feel logical, or at least understandable.

Airbenders Who Abandon All Earthly Connections Can Levitate Now? Weird and kind of retroactively disruptive that it never came up before.

By The Way Lavabending Is Its Own Special Weird Thing Now Like Metalbending Was? Feels like we needed to invent a reason for this sidelined character to matter.

There's a risk to carving off too many chunks of a magic system, I think. Avatar started simple: everything the heroes could do or figure out was an extension of first principles. Lightning is kinda like weird pure fire, so lightning-bending made sense as an advanced firebending technique with a big risk of blowing up in your face. Bloodbending is literally something any waterbender can do once they realize it's possible - the horror of it is that it's a forbidden technique that becomes impossibly easy just by knowing about it. Toph figuring out metalbending by virtue of having a completely unique and incredibly granular sense for the earth around her ALSO worked, because (a) "metal can't be bent" has been firmly established several times and is clearly common knowledge, and (b) she was clearly the first person who'd ever had that combination of skill and disability and she was building her style from the ground up.

By the Korra timeline, however, we start running into things like lavabending, which should absolutely not be its own weird thing. It's just rock. We've already seen Kyoshi bend lava. If I recall correctly, the show doesn't sufficiently explain why lavabending is a weird separate thing from earthbending, making it feel like a logical component of the earthbending powerset is being arbitrarily gated just to make an otherwise disregarded character Slightly Important by being able to do it.

Stuff like that makes the magic system feel less internally solid. "Why CAN'T this magic do [thing]" is an extremely important question for a worldbuilder to be able to answer, and an overly greebled and partitioned magic system often can't explain why magic X and magic Y are totally separate. Skills and techniques and personal preferences among casters are fine to explain why something may or may not be possible for someone, but "what magic can and can't do and WHY" is something that I think should be as firmly, logically coherent as possible.

#asks #writing stuff

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tangledinink · 1 year

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raph fans come get y'all juice. chapter four of i'm sorry, teenage mutant what now? is up! read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

Okay, fine, he’d admit it. Dad was acting weird.

Like, weird weird, not regular weird. Their dad had always been weird, which Leo had always chalked up to 1.) him being their dad 2.) him spending time in Hollywood. But this? This was off, even for him.

Last night, he spaced out in the middle of one of Mikey’s stories, and Leo still wasn’t sure if he had literally fallen asleep with his eyes open or if he had just accidentally astral projected to the Twilight Zone or something. Of course, they had all then proceeded to say the most absolutely asinine, insane shit that they could think of in an attempt to goad a reaction until Mikey finally managed to snap him out of it by throwing some lentils at him. The day before that, he caught him rifling through that old shelf of weird knick-knacks that none of them were allowed to touch, muttering to himself the entire time like some crazy supervillain. Like, dude, had some ancient ninja ghost replaced their daddy, or what? ‘Cause this was getting freaky. He had kind of just thought Donnie was overreacting, but maybe he was onto something…

He hated it when Donnie was right. It happened annoyingly often and he could never admit it, lest he risk his twin’s ego becoming even larger. There’s only room for one egomaniac in this family.

“Think we can corner Dad on the train ride home and find out what’s happening? That way he won’t be able to run.” He said, casually, inviting himself into his twin brother’s room and tossing himself down on their bed.

Donnie pulled his eyes away from whatever robotics project he was currently tinkering with in order to glare at his brother, spinning around in his desk chair.

“Groan. Do we have to? That sounds unpleasant at best.”

“Hey, you started this in the first place. And you agreed to the plan,” he countered, pointing accusingly at the other. “You don’t get to back out now.”

“I’m not saying that I’m not worried, or that I don’t think someone should talk with him. I’m just saying that I don’t want to do it.” Donnie defended.

“Bummer. You’re participating.” Leo deadpanned. “Between you, me, and Raph, we might have half a chance. And if not… Well. We’ve got the big guns waiting at home.”

Donnie shuddered a bit. The Doctor.

“I don’t know. Based on historical data, there’s about a 76.4% chance that Dad will attempt to bodily throw himself out the window of a moving train if we try to talk to him about his feelings.”

“Do you think we can find a train car without windows?”

“I’ll do some research. I’m sure there are specs available online...” Donnie sighed, turning back around to face his desk and pulling out his phone.

Leo hummed softly, knowing that Donnie would, in fact, actually do that, whether or not it was realistic.

“I’m serious, Donnie. We actually have to talk to him.”

“I mean, yeah, sure. I am too. But what the hell are we gonna say?”

“Ugh. I don’t know! You’re the one with a therapist! And you’ve been seeing her for how long now? Shouldn’t you know how to do all the talky-feely shit by now?”

“I’m autistic.”

“So?”

“You should get a therapist.”

“Off-topic,” Leo muttered, rolling his eyes. “This is, like, weirder than he usually is. Like… Something is for real wrong. It’s kind of spooky.”

“It’s Mikey.”

Leo scoffed. “It’s not Mikey.”

“Yeah, it is. He started being weird right after Mikey lit himself on fire.”

“Mikey didn’t light himself on fire, Dee.”

“Well, he clearly did something . And Dad keeps looking at him like he thinks he’s gonna combust at any moment. There’s a very clear pattern of behavior, Leo.” He insisted. “Also, you don’t know what the hell Mikey did, either, because we both know he wasn’t just playing with matches in his room.”

“He might have been.” Leo huffed. “That kid is way more fucked up than we give him credit for. Remember in the fourth grade when someone destroyed his science fair project?”

Donnie shivered. “You don’t just forget something like that, Leo.”

“Exactly! Playing with lighters is totally within the realm of possibility.”

“There’s a difference between enacting violent but justified revenge and doing simply dangerous stuff just for the fun of it.” Donnie countered, glancing up at the other through half-lidded eyes. “Plus, he’s used to all of us doing dangerous stuff for the fun of it! Dad wouldn’t react this way if he was just worried Mikey was gonna hurt himself. He deals with worrying Mikey is gonna hurt himself all the time. Nor would he let Mikey get away with this with nary a punishment if that were truly the case. In the very least, Dad doesn’t think the event was the result of Mikey just ‘playing with lighters.’”

“Oh, so what? It’s magic? His notebook magically caught on fire?” Leo challenged dryly, giving his twin an unimpressed look.

“Of course not. I’m a man of science.” Donnie scoffed. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, but, admittedly, I haven’t been able to intuit exactly what the cause was just yet. My investigation is still ongoing.” He sighed. “... But maybe Dad thinks it was?”

Leo paused for a moment, rolling the thought around in his head, frowning a bit.

“You think Dad thinks Mikey magically caught his notebook on fire?” He questioned, raising one brow in doubt.

“It’s possible,” Donnie said, shrugging. “We know that he’s superstitious.”

Leo hummed softly, his hand automatically moving to spin the small silver bracelet on his wrist, running his fingertips across the smooth edges of the blue crystal in its center. One in a set of five. He supposed that that was technically true… ‘Superstitious’ wasn’t really the first word that would come to mind if he was trying to describe his father. It wouldn’t even be in the top ten. But slapping actual good-luck charms onto each of his children did kind of automatically sort him into that category, didn’t it?

He knew his dad had a small altar in his room, and they would occasionally celebrate, or at least acknowledge, Japanese holidays that he had grown up with. But they didn’t have any other charms or amulets in their home, at least not that Leo knew of, just old knick-knacks and trinkets that lived on shelves or in closets. They had never gone to a shrine or temple or church or anything of the like in their lives, and he had never heard his Dad pray before. But the bracelets? He had always been really invested in that. Leo literally couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t all worn them. He had told them since they were small that they ‘kept them safe ,’ and it had been a hard rule their entire lives that they weren’t to be removed.

It was the kind of thing that Leo was pretty sure people would think was weird if he brought it up-- so he usually didn’t. He used to think it was weird, too, honestly, and kind of dumb. I mean, they were just bracelets, right? So what did it matter? But he remembered the one time he had tried to take it off when he was around seven. Even now it was absolutely vivid in his brain every time he thought about it.

He hadn’t been trying to rebel or make trouble or anything, he had just been bored. He forgot exactly where they were, but they were waiting in line for something at some building with lots of desks and people milling about, discussing boring things. And there wasn’t anything to do! He had exhausted all viable options for entertaining himself: Annoying his father. Annoying his brother. Annoying his other brother. Annoying his other other brother. So he had basically run out of ideas.

He hadn’t even taken the bracelet off. I mean, not all the way. He was just messing with it, kind of yanking it up and down his wrist, and seeing if he could wiggle it up his hand over his knuckles--

But god, he remembers the way his father’s voice sounded when he caught him, biting out his name like it was painful. He remembers the look on his face, and even now it makes him feel small.

Not because his dad was angry. But because he was scared.

He had never seen his dad look that way before in his entire life. Like he was about to watch the entire world crumble down around him.

It was scary. His dad was scared, so he got scared, too. He shivers a little bit at the memory, his frown deepening. They had left shortly after, and Dad had assured him at least twenty times that he wasn’t mad, and he was sorry for scaring him, and it was okay, but that he couldn’t take the bracelet off. It was important.

Leo and his brothers had kind of decided after that that it probably was important and that they really shouldn’t take them off. Leo wasn’t entirely sure if he completely believed now that they actually ‘kept them safe’ or whatever, but he had certainly believed it then. And besides that, clearly, their father believed it, and that alone was enough for him. It was too small to really get off now, anyway. They had grown enough that Leo doubted he could wriggle his way out of it even if he wanted to. It was a small miracle that Raph hadn’t busted his with how damn beefy he had grown, but hey, he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth or anything.

“Okay. Fine.” Leo conceded. “So, Dad thinks Mikey has magic hands, or whatever. What do we do about it?”

---

The train ride over to the swim meet was relatively calm, filled with idle chatter and conversation. Leo, Donnie, and Raph had met their Dad at the station after school, and they spent the trip discussing the new leaf Donnie's Monstera was growing, the most recent viral street magic video Leo had seen, and the latest funny thing Raph's swim kids had done. Raph attempted, unsuccessfully, to prod their Dad into sharing as well, but the most he got was information about the latest reality show episode he had watched. Their Dad wasn't always the biggest sharer, but usually, they could at least get him to discuss the state of his Dojos, any new acting prospects, or celebrity gossip. He loved celebrity gossip! But not today-- the conversation stayed squarely focused on his three sons.

Still, it had been pleasant, even with the slight stirring of anxiety in Raph's stomach. They were all busy more often than they weren't, so it was always nice to get to spend any amount of time together. Their pops didn't always attend all their various sporting events, recitals, or other competitions-- it just wasn't realistic. There was only one of him, after all. But they were getting towards the end of the season at this point, which meant that all the 'important' events were beginning to crop up on their calendars. Their Dad hated to miss those-- even if they did go pretty much every year. He always said he wanted to ‘brag about how talented his children were.’

The sports center was just a short walk from the train station, and Raph glanced down at their father as they made their way into the bustling lobby. "You know where you're goin', pops?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I could give tours of this place." His father joked, his frame shaking with his laughter. "You boys know how to find me if you need me. Now, go and have fun. And also, kick some butt!" He encouraged with a toothy grin.

"You got it, pops!" Raph assured, smiling wide in response, herding his two younger brothers off to the locker room. Usually, they'd come here with the rest of their team. Rather than traveling with their Dad, they'd travel with the other kids and their coach. But this was the city-wide meet. Qualifiers only-- which thinned out the crowd. Raph knew there were other competitors from the Mad Dogs Swim Team around here somewhere, but until they could hunt them down, it was just the three of them. Luckily, this was far from their first rodeo.

"Dibs on Candy Locker!" Leo yelled.

"Leo, no one else wants Candy Locker," Donnie said.

"Do not touch the Candy Locker!" Raph shouted.

They did this every year.

The infamous Candy Locker.

Raph, Leo, and Donnie had been competing in swim since they were eight and seven, respectively. And every year since then, all three of them had qualified for city-wide. And every year, city-wide was held at the Aquatics Pavilion at the Ithaca College campus. And every year that they came here, since they discovered it their very first time, the Candy Locker remained.

It was basically a historical landmark at this point, and Raph was continuously baffled that it still persevered. There were rows and rows of shiny slate gray lockers in the changing rooms, free for whatever visiting athlete to use while they competed, just big enough that you could fit a swim bag in there if you really put some muscle into it, all labeled and neat. Typically, you would open a locker without a padlock, and there would be one of two things there. One: someone else's clothes and bag. Someone already took this locker, but is playing it fast and loose and trusts no one will steal their shit. That's cool. Stealing ain't the Mad Dog way. Two: An empty locker. Sweet, free locker. You can shove your shit in there. But at the Aquatics Pavilion, there was also a third option.

That option was a faded yellow pillowcase filled to the brim with about two pounds of Halloween candy.

The running theory was that someone had stashed it here ages ago, forgotten it, and it had just been there ever since, therefore transforming Locker 336 into ‘Candy Locker.’ Raph wasn't sure if the staff at the school truly just weren't aware of it, if they just didn't feel like dealing with it, or if they too respected it enough that they couldn't bring themselves to destroy it. All he knew was that Candy Locker was forever, and a fixture of the institution.

He also knew that every single year, without fail, Leo tried to sneak chocolate out of Candy Locker.

"You can't use Candy Locker. Leo! It's not open for use! It's Candy Locker, and it needs to be treated with respect!" Raph yelled, giving a low groan of annoyance as Leo just barely glanced back at him, just for a moment, this absolutely feral look of excitement in his eyes, and darted off, breaking away from their small group. Dammit.

All of Raph's little brothers were fast and small and nimble. Raph always felt a tiny bit awed when he watched how they moved-- weaving about obstacles like minnows swimming upstream, dancing and darting about in a way that always looked effortless. Raph was fast, too, and he was far more acrobatic than the average high schooler... Don't get it twisted, he was perfectly capable of back-flips and cartwheels. But small? Small he was not.

It was tough being a big guy sometimes. I mean, he didn't dislike it by any means! He loved being large enough that he could see over crowds and keep an eye on everything. He loved feeling strong and powerful enough that he could plant himself in between his family and any kind of danger, and feel like a wall-- an immovable object. He loved being strong, relished the rush of pinning his opponents to the ground beneath him without any effort and smashing his way through obstacles.

... But with size and strength comes responsibility. Wait, was that the quote? Something like that. The point was, if he ran after Leo, he'd mow half these kids down. And he didn't wanna hurt anyone or anything. He knew better than that.

"Raphael."

Raph's father knelt down next to him, his voice gentle, but nudging, demanding to be heard. It took Raph a few moments, but eventually, he glanced up at him, peeking shyly at his father from behind his hand and uncurling from the small ball he was rolled into just the tiniest bit.

"Raphael, did you hit Leonardo?"

He hesitated for a moment, and then nodded a tiny bit, sniffling loudly.

"And bite him?"

He nodded again, drawing his legs up to his chest and hiding his face in his knees.

His father sighed softly. "Red, we cannot--"

"He pushed me first!" He bit out, and he could feel his face burn even hotter than before, all muddy with shame and anger sloshed together. "H-he was being mean, and, and he wouldn't leave me alone! And I wanted him to stop!"

"I will talk to him, Red. But just because he pushes you does not mean you can push back. Or hit him, or bite him. You are bigger than him, Raphael." This brought a fresh sob tumbling through Raph's chest, despite his best efforts. His father sighed again before slowly sitting down, holding out his arms.

"Come here, my son."

Raphael rolled over onto his hands and knees, crawling into his dad's lap and burrowing his face into his chest. His dad's arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight and rocking the two of them back and forth. And for a while, they just sat like that, quiet and still, hidden away in the hallway closet.

"Is Leo okay?" Raph eventually mumbled, not picking up his head.

"He will be alright," Dad confirmed. "But you did hurt him quite a bit, Raphael."

"Sorry." He whispered. He wiped at his face with balled-up fists, hiccuping a few times. His mouth tasted salty, now, from the tears, but it still tasted bitter from the blood, too.

"...You did a very good job coming to get me right away."

Raph hummed a tiny bit in response, but he didn't say anything beyond that. He wished he could fold himself up even tighter and hide. He wished he was so small he could fit in between the floorboards. He wished he could disappear.

"You know, your gym teacher is very impressed with you, Red." Dad eventually began to speak again. "He told me all about how wonderfully you do whenever he sees you. You're bigger and stronger than the other kids in your class," He continued, and then laughed. "And I think that is very cool! And it makes me very proud to hear about how well you have done."

Raph finally dared to peek up at his father again, wiping some of the tears off his cheeks.

"But I know it can be hard to be strong sometimes. It is a lot of work, being big and strong! You have to be careful with others around you, even if they're not careful with you back. That is very difficult!" He said, his hand moving in slow circles up and down his child's spine. "But I have seen you many, many times be big and strong to protect your brothers, and keep them safe, and to help them." He said, keeping quiet for a moment before exhaling slowly through his nose. "... Can I share a secret with you, Red?"

A secret? His eyes widened a bit, and he immediately nodded.

"I have been thinking that perhaps you boys might be ready to start learning proper martial arts at the dojo." Raph let out an audible gasp, his entire body perking up with excitement. Actual for real kung-fu and karate and stuff?! Not just blocks and poses!? "But I am a little worried that your brothers might hurt themselves, or fight with each other if I teach them."

Oh. Raph hadn't thought of that before. He frowned a bit, his brows suddenly pinched with worry. He hadn’t ever considered before that learning martial arts could actually be a bad idea. If he learned martial arts with his Dad, what if he just hurt his brothers worse?

"But I know how much you all want to learn. And I can already see how much potential you all have." He continued with a soft smile. "So I was hoping that you could help me. I don't like that you and Leo got into a fight, or that he got hurt... But now I know that you know what it feels like to hurt someone that you love. And that it doesn't feel very good, does it?"

No... It felt horrible. He furrowed his brows, frowning before nodding a bit.

"So I think that means that I can trust you to help me with teaching them how to be careful and strong at the same time, and keep them safe. Do you think you could handle that, Red?"

Raphael swallowed hard, feeling this wet lump form in his throat. All the tears from before welled up in his eyes again-- even though he didn't wanna live in the floorboards anymore. His dad still trusted him that much? Even now, after he messed up really bad? He tried to tell his father 'yes,' but his lips were wobbling too much for his tongue to work right, so he just nodded as hard as he could instead. Yes-- He wanted more than anything to help protect his little brothers, no matter what. ‘Cause even when they made him so, so angry... he still loved them so, so much.

"I thought so." Dad laughed, kissing the top of his son's head before ruffling his hair lightly. "And I know we will not have any more fighting like this. And no more biting , Raphael. We have talked about this. If you want to bite something, I will get you something else that is for biting. But it cannot be people! Understood?"

Hiccuping a bit, Raphael nodded again. Somehow, he wasn't even upset to be scolded this time. And he knew that he had said he wouldn't bite people before, but this time he really meant it.

"Good boy. Now, I am going to go check on your brothers. Do you want to stay here a little bit longer, or do you want to come with me?"

Raph took a long, deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat so that he could find his voice again.

"I wanna see my brothers."

"GET BACK HERE, LEO. DON'T MAKE ME COME AFTER YOU." He shouted, and was completely ignored. "Donnie--"

"Not involved." Donnie immediately replied, not looking up from his phone.

Raph groaned, trying to pick up the pace without taking out any bystanders, muttering repeated, "Pardon me's," and "'Scuse me's," as he went.

Leo really wasn't that far ahead of them-- He wouldn't completely ditch them, but he did get far enough ahead that he was already breaking into Candy Locker by the time Raph rounded the corner, his face set into a deep scowl.

"Leo. Don't you dare."

"Look! Untouched and beautiful as ever!"

"Leo, do not eat the candy ."

"Wow, and they have all our favorites, too..."

"They are at least eight years old! At a minimum , Leo!"

"Oh, pshhh. As if I haven't seen you wolf down two-week-old leftovers before." Leo scoffed.

"Remember that time he ate beef jerky out of the trash?" Not helping, Donnie.

"It was right on top! Practically untouched!" Raph protested. "And that's completely different! Plus, eight years is, like, twelve times longer than two weeks is!"

"That math is not correct..." Donnie mumbled under his breath.

"Chillax! I'm not gonna eat any of the candy." Leo said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Oh, thank god.

"I just wanna have one. To like... put on a shelf or something. I bet Donnie could make a little pedestal for it."

Dammit.

"One year." Raph said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just one year. I just want us to leave Candy Locker in peace... for one year . It's a sacred space, Leo!"

"Mmmm..." Leo pursed his lips, placing a hand on his hip. "Yeah, I mean. I see what you're saying, but... I'm pretty sure no one is gonna miss, like, one Tootsie Pop."

"Stop messing with him, Leo." Donnie chided, cracking open a locker nearby, tossing his bag down and shucking off his jacket.

"Okay, okay. Fine. Because I'm an amazing brother, I will refrain from interacting any further with Candy Locker until after the meet." Leo declared, slapping the locker shut again with a flick of his wrist and a satisfying metallic clack. "But know this, Raphael. This isn't over."

Raphael scoffed, rolling his eyes, glaring at Leo as he yanked open his own locker. He loved his brothers dearly-- he did. But they were really lucky sometimes that he didn't just snap their necks.

---

At this point, Yoshi had a pretty good handle on these types of events, and he knew well enough how to navigate. He knew exactly which corner bounced cheers and shouts about the least, knew just where all the vents, pumping in warm air to prevent all the swimmers from freezing their butts off, were hidden, so they could be avoided, and knew the best seating arrangement that allowed for minimal soreness the following day. Metal bleachers weren’t exactly easy on your back, after all! Armed with years of experience, (plus his cellphone and earbuds for when events did not feature his sons and he got bored,) he was fully committed to making it through the meet and focusing for the entirety of it. Had he made any progress on the whole Hamato Ninpo thing? Well, no, not exactly. Which was. Ah. Worrisome. But, now was not the time for that!

He was quite excited to watch his three eldest sons kick ass and take names, as per usual.

He said 'hello' to a few of the other parents that he knew and made some polite small talk, settling down to watch the meet. Warm-ups were already done by the time he was all seated, and he could see his boys and the rest of their team from where they sat across the pool; audience members sat on one side, and competitors on the other. He watched them doing much of the same-- making conversation with each other and their teammates, checking their phones, and cheering whenever anyone they knew was in the water.

All in all, everything was fairly normal and expected. Yoshi still struggled a bit to keep himself focused, and not think too deeply about all the worries in his head, but it wasn't as bad as it had been lately... It had been nearly a week now with no further incidents, no questioning from his children, and no spooky prophecies or visions from his ancestors or anything like that. So he was beginning to wonder, or perhaps more accurately, hope that maybe it had just been a fluke. Just a one-off event rather than the beginning of anything trying. Maybe his family was fine, their identity and secrets were safe, and nothing further was going to occur to jeopardize that-- they could just continue to live in peace just as they had been.

He watched the twins get up from the bench for their next event, shedding their hoodies and towels in favor of goggles, only to get waved over by an official. The two wandered over and joined him and what appeared to be another parent. He couldn't hear what they were saying from where he was, but the conversation soon became animated-- Donnie's arms crossed over his chest, Leo talking wildly with his hands, and worry immediately began to blossom in his chest. He had just gotten to his feet, beginning to make his way over to the group when the discussion seemed to dissolve, his two sons walking away visibly upset. Yoshi met them halfway.

"What is going on?" He immediately questioned, his brows knit together, forming wrinkled creases in his skin. He could see Raphael straining to see from his side of the pool, a similar expression on his own face.

"Ugh. It's nothing." Leo huffed, a scowl set on his face, his hands on his hips. "Some Karen or whatever is just mad that we're gonna ruin her kid's record or whatever, so she talked the officials into drug testing us."

"Which is obviously a complete waste of time and resources," Donnie added in, rolling his eyes.

"She's just gonna embarrass herself when it comes back negative. As if we need any steroids to clean up shop." Leo declared, a small, sly grin growing on his face, offering out a hand to high-five his brother like, ‘Sick burn, right, Dee?'

His brother accepted, slapping his palm firmly. "Indeed."

Yoshi had broken out into a cold sweat, feeling as though his entire body had turned into stone, freezing him in place.

"O-oh. A drug test. Yes, how silly..." He mumbled, forcing a grin on his face. "How. Uh. How exactly... Does that work? Is it going to take long? I would hate for the, uh, the meet to be held up...!"

"No, they're just doing a rapid test." Donnie hummed. "Obviously it's going to be a smaller panel than they could achieve with a proper lab test, and not achieve quite as accurate or varied of a data set, but it should only take five minutes or so. I understand they're fetching the technician now, and then it should be as simple as collecting a urine sample to use. It can only reveal a 'negative' or 'positive' result rather than any more detailed variations or anything of the like, but of course, this isn't a concern for us, since we already know neither of us is using any drugs. It's actually a very fascinating process--"

Yoshi wasn't listening anymore, because all he could hear in his ears was his own voice screaming TURTLE PISS TURTLE PISS TURTLE PISS.

Logically, the test did not have the capacity to give such information. Donatello had just said that there were only two possible test results, positive or negative, and his purplest son usually knew what he was talking about regarding such things. So, reasonably, he knew it could not possibly come back ‘Mutant Turtle’. And rationally, he knew that his family had been under further scrutiny in the past and come out on the other side just fine. This did not ease his panic. It never did.

Insurance cards? Check. Paperwork? Check. All four children? Check. He went over his list for the fifth time in his head, glancing down at his kids, two on either side of him, as they approached the office. Right... Yes. He had everything he needed.

So why didn't he feel even the least bit prepared?

He had gone to such lengths to ensure the success of this plan. He had accounted for every document that would need to be forged, had crafted an elaborate story to explain his disappearance, and had paid dearly for the five bracelets that concealed his and his sons' mutant identities. He prepared for every possible threat to their new identities, and did everything he could to allow the success of their new lives.

It wasn't like he didn't account for this. He knew that it would be an obstacle, and he knew that it would be one that they would have to face. That didn't stop it from being terrifying.

The doctor.

Despite all the paperwork he had fabricated, he knew that they wouldn't be able to avoid going to the doctor forever. Even if he falsified records indicating his sons were up to date on absolutely everything and in perfect health, this would only buy them a year or two before they would be due for a visit, or risk being barred from enrollment in public school. And even if he somehow avoided this, too, what if one of his children got sick? Or injured? Was he to simply keep them at home and deny them medical care?

No, no. He wanted his kids to have a normal life. He wanted them to be able to do things like go to school and play in parks and make friends with other children... and have proper medical care when it was needed. He wanted them to be vaccinated, to be screened for problems, to have regular check-ups and be able to go to the hospital when they were hurt. He desperately wanted this.

But jesus christ, this was terrifying.

"Are you ready, boys?" He asked, glancing down at his children once more. He was trying to keep his voice level and his body language calm, but he could tell that his sons could sense his anxiety. His heart broke a little when four pairs of big, horrified eyes looked up at him and they shook their heads.

"Ah, where are my brave boys?" He questioned, nudging them ever so slightly, beginning the walk into the office. He held Mikey and Donnie's hands tightly so that they wouldn't be able to tell he was shaking. "Do not worry. I promise that Dr. Davis is very nice. Nothing bad will happen." He assured.

The boys didn't seem too convinced. He wasn't either, truthfully, but he marched them inside anyway.

It had been over a decade since he had last been inside a doctor's office, and even longer than that since he had been to a pediatrician. Yet somehow, it felt like nothing had really changed. Colorful wires with wooden beads strung on them stuck out from a brightly-painted table in the middle of the room, in sharp contrast to the faded burgundy chairs lined along the walls. Children's books and Highlight magazines covered every available surface, which Donnie immediately took to reading. There were a few other parents with their children as well, but the Hamatos were in no mood to socialize. After speaking to the woman at the front desk, Yoshi got to work filling out a literal stack of papers. He was so nervous, he messed up at least three different forms, and had to sheepishly request new copies.

And then they waited.

The longer they sat, the more the collective anxiety seemed to mount. Yoshi couldn't help the scenarios running through his mind over and over, each one ending with a doctor or nurse shrieking in horror and calling Animal Control--

"Dad."

Yoshi blinked back into reality, looking down at his youngest son, pulling at his sleeve with tears in his eyes.

"Dad, I wanna go home," Mikey whispered, leaning in close to him and sniffling a bit. "I don't wanna see the doctor."

Quite frankly, Yoshi was inclined to agree with his kid, to pick them all up and walk out right this very minute. But he suppressed the urge.

"I know, Mikey. I do not like seeing the doctor either." He admitted, scooping up the preschooler to hold in his lap. "But I promise... Dr. Davis is very nice, and, ah, I will not let them do anything bad to you... I am sure everything will be fine...!"

Before he could continue his, quite frankly, horrible pep talk, a nurse poked her head into the room from the back.

"The Hamatos?"

"Yo. Dad. You good?"

Yoshi paused for a moment before he returned properly back to the present day, glancing over at his sons and giving a nervous laugh, which then dissolved into a cough.

"Ah! Yes, of course! I am perfectly fine! Why wouldn't I be!" He wheezed, and his sons exchanged looks.

"Papa, honestly, it's fine. This will take ten minutes tops, and again, I assure you that neither Leo nor myself are engaging in any kind of recreational substances." Donnie said.

"Yeah! All we gotta do is piss in a cup." Leo added in. "And then we'll be all set. It's just annoying. Here, why don't you sit down, watch some Netflix or something-- I know you like Netflix-- and we'll be back in a bit, okay? Just chill."

"Right. Of course. I am... very chill." Yoshi insisted, even though he could feel his hands trembling a bit. Gah! Stupid traitor hands! Stop it!

"Surrreeee," Donnie said, taking him by the arm and slowly leading him back to the bleachers, sitting him down and patting his shoulder. "We'll be right back, alright? Nothing to worry about."

---

"Alright, you should be all set." Dr. Davis hummed pleasantly, offering a gentle smile to her latest anxious parent. "Everyone looks great! Healthy weights, nothing scary going on... We'll send you home with some literature and referral information for Donatello. I would recommend considering getting in contact with them if you can, especially since he's gonna be starting school soon, but beyond that everything looks fantastic."

"Yes-- thank you," Yoshi said, forcing a smile, shakily accepting the new stack of papers that the doctor handed over.

Nothing had gone wrong.

Well, a few things had gone wrong. Mikey and Raphael had both cried when they got their shots. Donnie had a small meltdown after being repeatedly touched by people he didn't like. And Leo had punched a nurse in the gut for upsetting his brothers.

But their bill of health came back clean. No mentions of turtles, mutations, cold-bloodedness, or reptilian features of any kind.

They made it through. They would be okay.

"... And we'll see you back in about five weeks for their next booster series, okay? Jacklyn up front can get you all scheduled!"

Yoshi pursed his lips slightly, his mouth suddenly feeling rather dry.

"... Ah. Yes. Of course."

---

The concept of buoyancy was built upon that of displacement; the idea that two different forms of matter could not occupy the same space. Archimedes once theorized that water, a liquid, would be pushed aside by a solid mass, but an object of an appropriate weight, density, or shape could ensure that the displaced weight of the water was greater than the total weight of the object, therefore ensuring it to float. This is, of course, connected to the concept of forces. Gravity is a downward force that acts upon all objects; when an object is placed in a fluid, that fluid must supply a force equal in magnitude but opposite in direction to the gravitational force for the object to float. Scientifically speaking, it was all a matter of density and mass, and every action that one took in the water, as well as every action that the water had in response, could be explained through a series of formulas and equations.

... In a non-scientific sense, however, water was safe and soft and inviting. Water would make room for you, no matter who you were or what you were doing. Once you got in, it would change itself to make exactly enough space for your body. Water was fluid and changing, soft and gentle when you moved softly, hard and firm when you moved harshly. In the water, the way you move changes. The way you see and hear changes. Perception itself shifts.

God, Donatello loved swimming.

Even just swimming laps was great, but a race only heightened the experience, engaging every bit of his body and mind and encouraging him to push. From the moment the buzzer went off and he dived from the starting block, ( push off with your legs, you're going for distance, not for height, hands together, smooth entry point, ) to the lap down, ( head down, no breathing except for when you absolutely need to, arms go back and glide over the water-- imagine your fingertips skimming just over the surface, no unnecessary movement, just enough for the maximum propulsion forward with minimal effort, ), the turn at the wall, ( watch the floor, see the blue tile end and the white begin-- you know the math, count it out, at five you duck, chin to your chest, arms together, kick off the wall and get as much air off that sucker as you can, ) and the sprint back, ( kick from your hips, not your knees, no reserving energy, it's just a fifty, this is a ‘dash,’ so dash -- )

Every second of it he was engaged, and every second of it he adored the experience. He didn't even slow down when he approached the wall, ramming into it at full speed and using his outstretched hands to stop himself and trigger the timer that stopped the clock. They didn't have to worry about slowing down. They wouldn't run into anything. Their own hands and the water would catch them.

Sucking in ragged breaths, he looked to his left, and then he looked to his right. Leo was right behind him, but as he glanced up at the display board on the wall to check his time, he grinned widely. He had more than a five-second lead over him. More than enough to qualify for Regionals-- not that he had been worried. Leo was well within the range as well, just as expected. The three of them always went to Regionals. And Donnie was quite pleased to note that the kid from Lane 4, the child, he and Leo had deduced, of the woman who demanded they be tested, was significantly behind the two of them. Sure, his time was good enough to qualify for Regionals, too...

But it wasn't anywhere near as good as theirs. Haha. Suck it.

One by one, all of the racers joined him at the end of the lane, bobbing about in the water and holding onto the pool edge or the lane lines, everyone out of breath and filled with adrenaline. He shook the hands of his two lane neighbors, congratulating both of them on a race well run, and once the referee blew his whistle, he clambered out of the water, hoisting himself up back onto dry land and moving to rejoin his twin.

"Killed it." Leo said, though breathlessly, ("if you're not struggling to breathe by the end of a race, you're not doing it right," their coach often said,) offering a fistbump, which Donnie reciprocated.

"As expected." He said, grinning wide as the two of them made their way back to the bleachers.

"Leo! Donnie! Nice!" Raph called as they approached, tossing them each a towel to wrap around themselves, each beginning to dry themselves off, peeling goggles and swim caps off their heads. "Good time! But, uh, what was with the--?"

"Some lady made us do a drug test," Leo explained, waving a hand as if to dismiss Raph's concerns. "It was dumb, we both passed, it's all good now. Just annoying."

"A drug test?! Seriously?!" Raph said, scoffing loudly. And admittedly, Raphala was no stranger to similar situations. Donnie recalled he had been accused of taking steroids or faking his age more than once in his various sporting exploits, but it typically wasn't taken as far as to actually test him. Donnie thought, vaguely, that he was almost surprised that Raph wasn't subject to the same treatment as he and Leo were today, but he supposed it did make at least a bit of sense. Raph was big-- he was tall and visibly muscular and powerful. People looked at him and expected him to excel in athletics.

He and Leo? Not so much. Leo was only 5'5", and he himself barely passed 5'3" without his boots, much to his annoyance. They were both lean and clearly athletically inclined, sure, but they were both much smaller and slimmer than their older brother was. People looked at them and were often surprised by their respective sporting resumes. Especially him.

"Yes, yes, it was an unfortunate waste of everyone's time." Donnie agreed. "But to no one's surprise, it came back completely spotless, and we were able to proceed without issue and completely destroy absolutely everyone, in your face Karen, thank you very much."

"Is that why Dad's been freaking out?" Raph asked after a moment, raising a brow. Donnie followed his eyes to steal a glance over at their father on the other side of the pool, looking much better than he had before they received their test results, (both he and Leo offering him thumbs up from across the way once they had been cleared, and watching him sag with relief,) but still seemed a bit shaky.

"Yeah," Leo said, wrinkling his nose. "I thought he was gonna pass out for a second there when we told him. He was sweating so much, it was disgusting."

"He doesn't seriously think you guys' would come back positive or anything, does he?" Raph scoffed, frowning a bit, and Leo shook his head.

"Nah, I don't think so. But you know how scared he is of doctors."

---

Dad always got like this whenever they had an appointment.

'This' meaning, of course, 'Visibly and overwhelmingly anxious and frightened, absolutely filled with dread and horror.'

They were all kind of used to it by now.

When they were little, it would sort of freak them out, because every time they had to go to the doctor, he had to come with them, and he'd be in a state of near-panic the whole time. And if Dad was freaking out, then they should probably be freaking out too, right? Looking back, Leo recognized that he was always trying to hide it, but quite frankly, he did a pretty shit job at it. Now that they had gotten a bit older, however, collectively exiting elementary school years to enter junior high, they more-or-less recognized that Dad's doctor-induced panic was really more of a personal thing, and not necessarily something that they needed to worry about themselves. Leo still didn't really like the doctor, and he kind of doubted he ever would, but he wouldn't really categorize himself as 'afraid' any longer.

Their Dad? Not so much.

The four of them had been long aware of the little note on the calendar in the kitchen, the sacred piece of literature that controlled all their lives, dictating that at four o'clock on this date, their dear father would be summoned to the doctor's office. And they knew that, of course, like he did every time, he would totally freak out. And, just as predicted, he had been an anxious mess all day, pacing around the house, mumbling nonsense to himself, (something about them being ‘onto him’ and ‘rat blood’ and other completely meaningless jibber-jabber.)

But this time, they had a plan. They absolutely could not continue to watch him like this. Everyone was in place. Leo looked across the living room, nodding to Raph. Raph glanced at Donnie, who checked his watch, and likewise nodded an affirmative. Mikey put down his sketchbook, getting to his feet, and the four of them, following his cue, fell into step with each other and filed into the kitchen.

Mission: Save Daddy From the Horrors was a go.

"Hey Dad," Mikey began, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leaning into him slightly. Raph, at the same time, got to work preparing a pot of tea-- Donnie fetched the cream, Leo was on sugar duty. "So, we were thinking. Maybe we could come with you this afternoon?"

Their father startled slightly, immediately moving to glare at Mikey with suspicious eyes. "What?! Come with me? Why would you want to come with me to a doctor's appointment?"

"Well, we were just thinking, it might be a nice, uh... family outing!" Raphael offered with a shrug, chuckling nervously and looking to the side. "And maybe we could, I dunno, get frozen yogurt on the way back?"

"And we could watch that game show you like on the way over. With the mystery shrimp?" Donnie suggested.

"Plus, I mean, I've been meaning to get some acting tips from you? Not that I need them, obviously, but..." Leo added, placing a cup into his father's hands as he narrowed his eyes.

"... You boys are... up to something..." Dad mumbled, looking between the four of them with a slight frown.

"Up to something? No! Of course not!" Raph insisted, and Mikey placed a hand on their father's shoulder.

"We just want to spend more quality time with you! As a family! Don't you want to spend time with us, your loving sons?" He questioned, batting his eyes. "Plus, we can get frozen yogurt! We know how much you love frozen yogurt, right?"

"Yeah, what they said," Donnie said.

"Pleaseeeee?" Leo went in for the kill, offering a dramatic pout, poking his lower lip out as far as it could possibly go. Mikey joined in shortly, combining their powers to reach near-dangerous levels of puppy-dog-eyes.

"... I suppose... If you really would like to..."

Score. They were in. Goal: minimize anxiety and get their dad home from the doctor's office in one piece for a change. And if they got some frozen yogurt in the process? What was the harm in that? As far as Leo was concerned, so long as they could manage to get their Dad through this appointment without totally freaking out, that'd be a win. And, if things went well, it would be that much easier to convince him to allow them to accompany him to future appointments, too.

---

The rest of the swim meet went about as expected. Donnie easily got the best times in every event he participated in, and all three of them, plus a couple of their teammates, made it into the upcoming Regionals. Trophies and ribbons were given out in the end, which they had all immediately passed on to their father, ‘cause he was more excited about them than they were and would surely figure out a way to find space for at least some of them at home. Raph physically wrestled an ancient Twix bar out of Leo's hands, and once his little brother finally cried for mercy and swore to leave Candy Locker alone for the remainder of the trip, he unpinned him from the ground and allowed him to get back up. Normal stuff.

It wasn't until the train ride home that things got kind of weird.

About fifteen minutes in Leo started giving him these looks. Looks that said, ' go on, say something.' So Raph started giving Leo ' no, you say something ' looks. After some back and forth, they both tried to give Donnie looks, but Donnie completely ignored them in every sense of the word, pointedly refusing to look up from his phone as he discussed the process of coding artificial intelligence to their dad, who clearly didn't understand anything they were saying, but to his credit, was doing his best to nod along.

After losing a silent game of rock-paper-scissors played at knee-level, just outside of their father's field of vision, Raph cleared his throat, leaning over slightly.

"Sooo, Pops... You been... sleeping okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yes! You know I am always out like a light after my before-bed snack!" Dad replied easily with a chuckle, and Raph frowned, ‘cause he could tell just by looking at him that that was a lie.

"Uh-huh. Right." Leo scoffed, not buying it. "That's crazy. Because, no offense, but you look kind of like garbage. And like you haven't so much as touched a pillow in, like... ever."

This immediately earned him a smack to his forehead.

"Garbage?! I will have you know that I was voted Hollywood's ‘Sexiest Action Film Star’ five years in a row! No respect!"

Leo whined loudly, rubbing his forehead and mumbling "ew," under his breath, but Raph knew it was all for show. Dad's infamous ‘Karate Chops’ never actually hurt. Though it could be that Leo was more hurting from the psychological damage of hearing their father refer to himself as ‘sexy’ than anything else...

"I concur-- ew. And as fascinating as this factoid that you've cursed us with is, father, it doesn't really address the fact that you've clearly not been sleeping." Donnie remarked, still not looking up from his phone screen. Raph knew he was listening, though. He wasn't typing, no video was playing. He was fully engaged with the conversation. Just needed his barrier.

"Yeah, if anyone is qualified to identify an insomniac, it's me!" Leo added in.

"What we're trying to say is," Raph jumped in, hands held out and a nervous smile on his face, "Is just, uh. That we're a little worried about you, Pops. I mean. You've seemed kind of, uh, out of it... since..."

"Since that thing with Mikey." Leo helpfully supplied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Raph noted the slight twitch in his Dad's left eye.

"What thing with Mikey?" Dad feigned.

"Uh, the thing where he started a fire in his room? That thing? Ringing any bells?" Leo pressed, with a tone and a look that said 'yeah, nice try.'

"Oh, yes. That." Their dad said, waving a hand dismissively. "We have already discussed this, boys. The important thing is that Mikey was not hurt, and Purple, I know you are upset because you are not allowed to start fires anymore--"

"It's not about Mikey, Dad," Raph interjected. "It's about you! You've just... you've been acting... weird! And it's been nearly a week now! And-- and if something's goin' on, we wanna know!"

"Nothing is going on." Their father immediately denied. "I already told you all. That was simply a freak accident, and it is not anything worth worrying about. I am fine! It is nothing you need to concern yourselves with."

"Dad, come on. There's obviously something bothering you!" Raph pushed a little harder, despite the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach, feeling like a soda can in a washing machine. "We just wanna help. Come on, don't you trust us--"

"Enough." This time it was Dad who interrupted, his voice harder now, firm and definite. Raph flinched slightly. "I already said it is none of your concern. I am fine. I am perfectly capable of handling this, and I do not want any of you involved!"

Raph opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but was surprised to find that there were no words. So he closed it again. He glanced over at Leo and Donnie, but they had about the same expressions on their faces as him.

"Please, Red." He heard the sigh in his father's voice, and he sounded softer now, tired even, and placed a hand on Raph’s shoulder. Raph glanced downwards, his eyes following all the knobs in his father’s fingers, the wrinkles in his knuckles. He didn't want to look at his face, because he knew that if he did, he would see him as an elderly man rather than Dad. He hated it when that happened, when he fell into that headspace... Just seeing people as people, just looking at them for exactly what they were, with all the familiarity and memories stripped away from them. "Just let me take care of this. I have everything under control."

Raph frowned a bit, not entirely sure if he believed him.

"We have a good life, Raphael. I need you to let me keep it that way." He said. "And to trust me enough not to get involved. Please."

He didn't look at Leo or Donnie this time. Something in his gut was screaming at him that this wasn't the move. The words Dad was picking here felt... off. But the way his voice sounded... He swallowed thickly, and then slowly nodded.

"Yeah. Okay, Dad. We trust you."

Far beneath the city, below the concrete, below the subways, below even the sewers, the world eventually became city again-- Hidden below the oblivious humans above. At the edge of this city, a small vine grew from the soil, slow and silent, just at the seam of a brick wall. Ever-so-carefully, the vine grew and expanded, pushing itself upward, dark and veiled in violet veins.

The vine pressed itself up against the stone wall, curling unnaturally upward, and a bit of stone cracked in response, falling away to the soil below.

The vine pushed further.

[ next ]

#sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowaufic #fanfic #rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt human au #tmnt human au #rise raph #rottmnt raph #turtle tots #fidgetwing

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portfolio-of-dreams · 2 years

Text

revival of you. | senku ishigami x gn! reader

w/c: ~700 words

a/n: this is pretty self-indulgent because I miss him. Senku, my beloved scientist.

tagging: only tagging bestie, @arlertslove because they constantly fill my dr. stone indulgence

It was a clear night in Ishigami village, small twinkling lights littered the sky like diamonds against a black slate. A small breeze brushed through the trees and waved the flag of science that sat atop Chrome’s hut. Senku was busy fiddling with the glass beakers measuring out the components of the revival fluid. 70% alcohol and 30% of nitric acid- which was converted from an ammonia solution and sodium hydroxide. This created an ammonia gas when boiled down, and then was filtered through platinum to create nitric oxide, which he boiled and filtered down again to create the final goal of nitric dioxide.

“Who are we reviving Senku? You gotta tell me!” Chrome eagerly watched Senku carefully measure out the ounces to mix.

“Just someone I need around. They will be a big help to the Kingdom of Science, that’s all you need to know.” Senku spoke uninterestedly as he bent down to be eye-level with his beaker.

The formula had to be precise, down the last millimeter of an ounce. Anything less wouldn't work, and anything more may be explosive. If the nitric acid reached a concentration of even more than 10% by weight, it could combust while making it. Or even worse, cause an explosive reaction when poured onto you. That was a risk he wasn’t particularly fond of. He added the last droplet of alcohol to the mixture and handed the beaker to Chrome to carry. He started down the ladder of the hut, a curious brunette boy following his trail. They walked through the field of flowers they had taken Rumi when she got better, walked through the unexplored forest and down to the river. Down to where you were.

Seated against a strong oak tree, was you. Already dressed and prepared to be revived. Chrome watched as Senku stepped lightly towards you, almost afraid of the ground around you collapsing underneath him. He held out his hand to take the fluid from Chrome, and carefully poured it over your head. He watched as the mixture ran down your forehead and fell into the crevices of stone along your chest. Slowly, small cracks formed and stone pieces began to fall around you. You took a shallow breath, eyes glued to the sky as the moon phase seemingly shifted in your view.

“Have a nice nap, my little cherub?” Senku smiled softly at you, crimson eyes reflected the soft glow from above.

“The North Star is off, Senku. How long has it been?” Your face finally dipped to meet his.

“Long enough. Welcome to the Kingdom of Science, y/n. Get excited.” That familiar smirk spread across his lips. You smiled and when the final piece of stone fell, you jumped into his arms. “Hey. Hold on, that’s not necessary.” His face slightly flushed.

“Oh. I see now. Are you sure science needs them, or did you just miss ‘your little cherub’?” Chrome spoke teasingly towards Senku as he clasped his hands together and batted his eyes.

Senku was obviously annoyed, sliding his pinky finger into his ear and staring at the boy with devious eyes. “Wow, look at that rock. I can’t tell from here but it looks important.”

Chrome, unknowing to Senku’s sarcasm, ran over to a pile of nearby rocks. Once his back was turned, Senku placed a soft kiss to the center of your forehead. A soft hum left your lips as you stood back from him, taking in his form. He didn’t wear the lab coat you’d grown accustomed to and his hands were more calloused and strong then you’d remembered- like he did heavy lifting. But his voice and smile were the same ones that he shared with you so long ago. You took a look around, nothing but jungle and rocks as far as you could tell.

You looked back at him “Seems I have some catching up to do.” You smiled with an excited expression as you started to walk next to him, having Chrome run after you, yelling about some crystallized looking rocks.

Senku chuckled under his breath as he watched Chrome wave a rock above his head as he ran to catch up. “Yeah, about 3,700 years worth of catching up.”

#portfolio of dreams #senku ishigami #ishigami senku #dr stone #senku ishigami x reader #senku ishigami x you #senku x reader #senku x you #dr stone x reader #dr stone x you #dr stone senku #dr stone drabble #dr stone fluff

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fili-urzudel · 10 months

Text

Dating Elrond Headcanons

When I wrote these, I was kind of imagining more RoP Elrond than LotR movie Elrond, but it's playing out in your head, so picture whomever you desire!

Warnings: None just Elrond being a sweetheart

Word Count: 0.3k

- You once mentioned in passing that you liked a specific species of arctic bird. Well, in his research of this bird, he found that one of the mating rituals you likely found "cute" was the exchange of specially curated rocks, to symbolize the want to construct a home together. Finding this heartwarming, he set out on an excursion. - There are cool rocks showing up on your desk, on your doorstep, in your bag, sporadically for months. - Luckily you catch the reference so you know exactly who they're from and find it endearing - Even though he understands the risk of a human-elf relationship, that doesn't mean he "gets" humans completely lol - At least, not until several years with you - He kinda… showers you with gifts - Like a lot - A month after you started dating, he presented you with a ridiculously expensive pair of earrings - You loved them, obviously - But after a few more like that, you actually had to tell him to tone it down, you didn't need bribery to be with him - You can actually tell that while he is older (by a few thousand years) and wiser (by a few thousand books), he has never been in a relationship before - Or maybe he's just, y'know, like that - He's very sweet and doting, always offering to run errands with/for you "should you wish", escorts you everywhere, and will actually leave or blow off meetings to make sure you're getting enough of his time. - Somehow, even with all this, he's still very pleasantly surprised when you take an interest in him - You thought he was going to combust when you asked him for a much simpler gift--3 or 4 of his favorite books that he had already annotated, so you could see what he thought of them - If you bought/made something for him because it reminded you of him? - he's always really cool and collected but he might tear up a bit - he would be thanking you profusely for weeks, probably whenever he looked at it (or thought of it) - Proposal/engagement/wedding headcanons coming soon

#lotr #lotr fanfic #lotr fandom #lotr headcanons #the hobbit #rings of power #elrond #elrond peredhel #tolkien #lord of the rings #elrond x reader #elrond x you #elrond x y/n #elrond headcanons #elrond hcs #lotr hcs #lord of the rings headcanons #dating elrond

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ca77um-ilo77 · 5 months

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alright you have me convinced!! what should i know before i watch indycar next season??

yooo i'm so glad i convinced you!! this is a pretty long post, and is kind of all-over the place. i tried to break it up by general topic, but i'm adding randomly as i think, so just a warning. i'll add some info links i like at the bottom. (if you or anyone wants to talk indy or f1, asks or dms are so very welcome, i love making friends <3)

one thing about indy is unlike in basically every else, many cars look very different even when on the same team as well as special liveries that are nothing like their normal ones, so i'd recommend getting the indycar app (it's free and user friendly once you figure out the weird layout) as it has a spotter's guide. it also has onboard cameras and radios for free (!!!!).

indycar is (usually) a pretty friendly sport, but as is the case with american sports, we like chaos, so the drivers can pretty much say anything except swear words lol. there's a few different clips of drivers threatening each other, which is great. id say most drivers are friends or at least acquaintances, expect santino ferrucci (huge bigot, pay driver, got kicked out of f2 for extremely dirty driving, and i personally hate his hair) and often romain grosjean as he hits people a lot. as for 2024 rookies, kyffin simpson's dad bought him his seat, and kyle larson saying the n-word in 2020 means he has some really, really racist fans.

the safety rules are strict and the cars are very durable which is good for high-speed crashes. the safety people (shoutout amr indycar safety team i love y'all, amr the company i hate you more than i hate the fia) travel with the races and have extensive training. they are also stationed in places that allow quick access to any location on a track. this is most apparent at ovals as they are much faster and more dangerous. at the other races, they are stationed where there is higher likelihood for a more dangerous crash that needs faster reactions. they take trucks to the site that are full of basically anything that might be needed. this is especially important as indycar refuels and are at high risk of combustion compared to f1. the calling yellow flags is also a lot more liberal which is nice. during longer yellows, and reds at ovals they'll run a sweeper truck to clean the racing line so people don't slide into walls.

for flag code info, as i don't have the patience to write it out, it is is section 7.2 of the rule book (page 27). i've linked it at the bottom of the post.

with the cars, they're all required to have the same chassis and aren't allowed to change a huge amount, so the racing is mostly down to skill, though andretti, ganassi, penske, and mclaren are better as they have more money. there are two engine suppliers, honda and chevrolet, iirc (don't quote me here) chevy is a bit more powerful, but honda is a bit more handleable. fast pit stops are usually about 7 seconds due to smaller pit crews (7 people maximum) and refueling. each car also has it's own pit box as teams have variable car numbers based on what they can afford. firestone provides tires, and there are two compounds, primary and alternate, as well as a wet tire. primaries are the harder compound and have a black sidewall. alternates are softer and have a red sidewall, except at street circuits where it's green to signify all natural rubber. use of both compounds are required. on broadcast you'll hear them mention "sticker reds" which are just the brand new ones.

more tire info in section 15 of the rulebook (page 84). there's some complex rules if you like tires.

the biggest difference between indy cars and f1 is f1 has power steering, indy doesn't. if you watch onboards, the drivers are wrestling the car the whole time, and most of the racing comes down to skill. the actual racing is often chaotic (indycar app helps with this. i keep it open always) and since there are many pit stops in a race (the cars use a lot of fuel) the leaderboard will change a lot.

the points system is very different, i'll try to cover it as succinctly as i can but i'm going to put a link for the wiki on it at the bottom anyway. (this is going to be formatted real weird, but i want to be brief). p1 50; p2 40; p3 35; p4 32; 4th-10th decreases by 2; p10 20; 10th-25th decreases by 1; everything p25 down is 5 points. drivers get points for finishing the race, basically. (unless there's more than 33 finishers, then 34 down get nothing, but that doesn't really happen). there's some bonus points also, 1 for leading a lap, 2 for most laps led, and 1 for pole position. the final bonus is for indy 500 qualifying. top 12 get points from p1 getting 12, descending by 1, to p12 getting 1.

as for the circuits there's three types: ovals (6 races, 4 tracks), roads (6 races, +1 non-championship race), and street (5 races). ovals are very high speed with little to no breaking. road courses are just your average circuit made for racing, the roads tend to be a bit rougher than f1's but that's kinda just how american tracks are. street circuits are, well, on the street. american roads suck major dick. the smoothest indycar street circuit is comparable to the worst of f1's. very bumpy, usually some good crashes (watch 2023 st. petersburg start. shit was insane).

as a fan, i cannot recommend irl indy more. some races are busier than others, obviously, but it's cheap considering it's a big racing category. 3 day entry for the less major races is usually $60-ish, and paddock passes are an additional $120-ish. not 100% on the price for pit access, but that is a bundle with three day tickets usually. the races aren't super crowded and there isn't assigned seats which is nice. the paddock is super open (check my "fenrir indycar" tag, quick access on my pinned) and you are able to walk up to and touch the cars if you really want (i wouldn't) as well as have conversation with engineers if they're not busy. if you have pit access the drivers are usually just wandering around and are often happy to stop and talk/sign something when not busy. there's also a high risk of nearly getting run over by drivers on their scooters. will power is notorious for this.

for my non-americans, (love y'all) we are very happy to have a conversation with strangers. the indy fans are often thrilled to talk about their favorite drivers and thoughts with anyone. when i went id say the only bad experiences i had was getting overwhelmed (my fault, i went to a place that i knew would cause a meltdown) and my dad getting hit twice by a man in a golf cart twice (same guy, not my dad's fault, the cunt didn't try to move, warn him, or apologize, just hit him, let my dad stumble, hit him again. i'm still mad). the seats are usually right on the track, so it's extremely loud and smelly. 10/10 can not recommend irl indy enough. i am biased to the pnw and it's the only race i've been to, but the portland race is great. it's not got masses of people, you can walk right up to the track to watch with the only thing between you and the cars being a concrete wall and a fence, and as it's a smaller race with less fans compared to the east coast and mid-west races, it's cheaper. biggest con is its built on a swamp, so super humid. (another pro, i'll be there <3 [joke.])

any questions you've got or clarification needed, my notifications are on and i'll respond to relevant stuff as soon as i see it.

LINKS:

rule book (clicking on a section of the table of contents will take you there)

points format wiki

schedule (tickets can be bought here)

app link

2024 series wiki (so helpful)

#f1 #indycar #fenrir indycar #indy 500 #2023 indycar #2024 indycar #formula 1 #anti santino ferrucci #portland indycar #ask #anonymous #anon

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snekjoy · 4 months

Text

Okay as is tradition for me I've thought of a rarepair and am now being entirely and utterly consumed by them so. Argepard?? Gepargenti? Argeppie?? I like argeppie. ARGEPPIE GETTING TOGETHER STORY UNDER THE CUT

They meet because Argenti wants to preach Idrilla's beauty to Belobog and runs into some issues with the Silvermane guards for challenging strangers to "duels of honour" as a way of trying to make friends. Gepard ends up having to deal with him and Argenti basically just calls him beautiful and apologises for any disruption, and also hey wanna join my religion? I'm sure Idrilla would love you to uphold her legacy, and you look absolutely incredible in such fine armour, Lord... what's your name? Ah, but a rose by any other would smell as sweet!

So Gepard gets flustered but he's pretty used to criminals trying to flirt their way out of charges (ahem Mr cold feet) so he manages to send Argenti on his way with a warning before he actually combusts. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for him, Argenti has now fallen in love at first sight and keeps showing up around where he patrols to compliment him, bring him roses, etc etc.

Gepard finds himself slowly being charmed by this weirdly chivalrous guy who refuses to let him step in any puddles and insists on holding his hand and guiding him down or up stairs and into trams. He's not a bad guy, he just doesn't quite get that on Jarilo-VI most people don't act like that. One day, he awkwardly asks Argenti on a date (he may as well, since the guy's trying so hard to win his favour) and is met with an enthusiastic yes. The date is the most cheesy romantic thing he's ever witnessed. Wherever this guy is from, they must all be living in a 1940s romance film, but Gepard doesn't mind. He quite likes it, actually, and despite the fact that Serval will never let him forget just how over the top Argenti can be, he asks him out again. And again. And again.

After one of their dates, Gepard walks Argenti home (or, rather, to his hotel) and they stand by the door. He's been given a bouquet of roses today, and a very expensive dinner that cost money he didn't know Argenti had. He was then taken dancing, which he's not all that good at, but Argenti didn't care. He guided him, holding his hand and his waist and whispering where to go and what to do next into his ear. It was... a lot. And incredible.

So, before Argenti goes inside, Gepard gives him one of the roses, apologises that he didn't bring him any flowers of his own this time, and kisses him instead.

The Knight thinks that this is very much one-upping his bouquet, but he doesn't mind at all. No, he's actually overjoyed at this development, and when Gepard pulls away, as red in the face as the bouquet and hurrying a goodbye so he can go and jump in a hole and die, Argenti takes his hand and kisses it.

The guard is lost for words, so he appreciates when Argenti thanks him, insists that he go home and warm up because "as beautiful as you are with rose-tinted cheeks, I despise that you might risk falling ill, my dear." and bids him goodnight, disappearing inside.

He's left out in the cold, his heart going faster than it's ever gone before. He stares down at the roses.

God, he's really head over heels this time.

#honkai: star rail #hsr #argeppie #argenti #argenti hsr #gepard hsr #gepard landau #honkai star rail #gepard x argenti #argenti x gepard

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filthforfriends · 1 year

Text

Satin, Lace, and Other Pretty Things

Reviving this fic for part 4!

Thomas x fem reader

Word count: 3.6k

CW: Its kinky!!

Digging through what you affectionately referred to as your little box of horrors, was even more fun than you anticipated. You’d forgotten the full contents of your sex toy collection since you’d moved in with Thomas and stuffed it at the bottom of a closet. He had a barricade up that you were always testing the bounds of, trying to gently work around. Anal fingering? Fine (as long as you didn’t really talk about it). Rimming? Nope.

Thomas made up for this with orgasms galore, so you were far from bored. However, you also knew that wiping out a 10 inch neon green dick and balls with a suction cup at the base would just intimidate, and maybe also traumatize him. So you kept the more adventurous items in your collection tucked away in case they became appropriate later on. At the bottom of this innocuous looking plastic container, was your strap on harness. It was simple, because that's all you could afford when it came to quality leather and an adjustable o-ring.

You sat with your back to the wall, amongst phallices and vibrators spread out on the hardwood floor, running the black straps through your fingers. Tragically, this harness hadn’t gotten much use, and it was time to rectify that. After a few minutes of snapping dildos and o-rings in and out of place, your suspicions were confirmed: nothing here was small enough for Thomas’ comfort.

There’s no point in having skills without the tools to match, so you skimmed reviews of a few sex stores. After you’d determined which had the most extensive merchandise, came the question of where to put the harness. Obviously everything else was tucked away under two boxes of CD’s kept for sentimental reasons and your summer sandals. But should you leave the harness out so Thomas could get used to it?

Tossing it on the bed to feign casualness was the bold option, but maybe excessively so. Perhaps with your other toys in the night stand? To avoid giving him a heart attack, you fold it next to your lingerie in the dresser. The placement gives him the opportunity to close the drawer and pretend he’d seen nothing. Plus Thomas’ intentions were already nefarious if he was rooting around in your underwear drawer. A far better alternative to reaching for the lube and finding your hand tangled in a pegging harness. Thomas would be so full of excitement and anxiety that he’d simply spontaneously combust.

Getting him put back together this afternoon had been challenging enough. After a few minutes of cuddling, Thomas’ suggestion to shower together almost derailed all progress. He had been absolutely insistent that you cum too. Nevermind your explanation that his pleasure was reward enough.

“I’m not expecting an orgasam.”

“Well I have an expectation of myself that I will give you an orgasam,” he insisted.

“Thomas I can’t cum knowing I’m holding up Maneksin’s meeting with the biggest fashion brand in the world. Too much pressure!”

“Well if you’re struggling to cum, then I am holding up the Gucci fitting,” he emphasized. The argument was ridiculous, but so endearing that you laughed.

“You’re insufferable,” you huff, affectionately. “Alessandro looks like Jesus, I can’t disappoint Jesus this way.” You’re already giving in, letting Thomas tip your face towards his by holding your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Remember that I was an altar boy. I think he’ll make an exception.” Thomas kisses you softly at first, like an invitation.

“Are you sure?” Kiss. “Because -” Kiss. “Smiting and all.” Kiss. His mouth grows more passionate as he tries to shut you up. Thomas backs you around the bathroom door frame, into the bedroom. “Don’t wanna -” Kiss. “Risk it.”

“Please stop talking.”

“‘Kay,” you grin. No one can say you didn’t try. Just when you’ve settled on pissing off Sony, Gucci, God, and everyone, Thomas’ phone rings from the kitchen. He lets out a heavy, irritated sigh, smacking your ass for good measure before he bounds out of the room. Holding your breath to listen, you recognize his business tone.

“Is it Jesus?” you call, humor only loud enough to reach Thomas’ ears and not whomever he was talking to. When you enter the kitchen he’s leaning against the sink, smiling even as he speaks in a monotone.

“Alright, thanks.” He beckons with an outstretched hand, folding you into his side. You wrap your arms around his waist and eavesdrop, feeling snug and affectionate.

“-- important in the industry. Even taking you guys on was an act of good faith.” Thomas sighs and rolls his eyes.

“I know this, I know.”

“They had a dozen more high profile options. You’re here because of the aesthetics, it all serves a marketing purpose. So this meeting you need to be extra gracious.”

“When has my professionalism failed you?”

“What I’m saying is unless you hate it, don’t ask them to redesign. Smile say ‘it’s an honor to represent your brand.’ It’s about centering a modern interpretation –”

“Of Italian style,” Thomas droned, hitting his head against the cupboard dramatically.

“Supporting their vision. Being the vessel for their vision.”

“You’ve already prepped us on this.”

“Well it’s important enough that it bears reminding,” he snaps. “Considering you’re not in the car on your way right now, you do need to hear it.” Thomas grimaced and you stifled a giggle behind your hand. The rep from their talent management continued ranting and Thomas held the phone away from his ear.

“What the fuck does he want me to say?” he whisper-yells in exacerbation.

“Say that you’ll be the perfect brand ambassador.” He nods, sighing and giving a few more mindless affirmatives.

“I’ll be the perfect brand ambassador, I promise.”

“I won’t let anyone in the club puke on the Gucci clothes,” you add.

“And I won’t let any –” Thomas stops himself and ends up shaking with a silent chuckle that shows his gums. “Alright, I’ll leave right now. Thank you so much, Nico. Yeah, bye.” Once Thomas was out the door, you got to refocus your attention. Putting on some innocuous clothing, you drove to Peaches n’ Cream, an establishment not to be confused with an ice cream store. Sex stores intimidated most people, but you felt oddly comfortable. No retailer had better, more knowledgeable customer service. Not to mention shopping for your boyfriend was straightforward: just get the smallest size of everything.

“Baby, are you home?” You didn’t expect him to be, but wanted to check before casually dumping a dildo and butt plugs on the dining room table. Of course the house was empty, which gave you time to situate your new O-ring and strap on. The snaps were stiff, so it took a couple minutes and some of your sanity to get them pried open. However, great struggle reaps great rewards, and soon you are adjustinging the harness in the hallway mirror.

There was nothing quite like the rush of power from wearing a strap on and harness. You had all the equipment for any feasible activity at your disposal. Just fantasizing about the possibilities while wearing a cock was fun. Thomas undone and grabby, sweaty hands slipping off your hips while his brow furrowed. The attached dildo was comically small, and you almost felt silly posing in front of the mirror, but this wasn’t about your preferences and you’d never make your boyfriend feel that his capabilities are inadequate.

When he finally gets home, you’re doing skincare in the bathroom, trying to keep yourself conscious. If he takes off his boots it’ll rouse you again anyways, might as well be awake to greet him. Thomas pokes his head around the doorframe.

“Hey, sorry for keeping you up,” he winces.

“It happens, baby.”

“Okay, I’m gonna change.” Thomas blows you a kiss with a wink before disappearing down the hall, to the bedroom. When you follow behind not thirty seconds later, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, cock in hand.

“Well, isn’t this familiar,” you chuckle.

“Oops.” Thomas is bashful at getting caught, his motions slowing to a stop. “You were so tired, but I’ve been thinking about the underwear all day and now I’m just…I was fighting not to get hard the whole time.” You snort at how receptive he is, propping a couple pillows against the headboard so you can sit comfortably. As you climb onto the bed, Thomas desperately waits for direction. Submission came so naturally to him. He probably didn’t even realize that he was deferring power your way.

“Would you feel comfortable with me being part of this?”

“Jacking off?” he asks in confusion.

“Mhm, remember what I said this morning? Can I watch you practice?” He thinks about it, eyes cast downward.

“I don’t really feel like practicing right now,” he mumbles.

“What about sitting on my lap?” You try to make the request casually amidst all the internal screaming at the thought of his masturbating while seated on your thighs.

“Yeah, okay,”Thomas nods, face open. It’s clear he feels comfortable with this request in a way he didn’t with the other. Maybe he wasn’t ready for that vulnerability right now.

“Take off your bottoms so you’re comfortable and straddle.” Thomas wiggles out of his jeans and slides his boxers off. He stands next to the headboard. His physicality is cautious as he crawls onto the bed. You pat your thighs with one hand and use the other to beckon him forward. It's a position he’s likely never taken before, which is why Thomas is so awkward when he swings a leg over. In the process of shifting, he falls onto his hip, hand slipping on the comforter.

“Sit back on your heels and take a deep breath.” While Thomas obeys you run your hands along his flank reassuringly. Finally, he begins to settle. He looks at you, his cock, his hands, and his shirt where it brushes the head of his shaft. He looks, but he doesn’t touch himself without prompting.

“Kitten, I need you to really listen for a moment.” You take Thomas’ face between your hands and his attention is singular. “I am so proud of you for saying no to me just now. I am beyond thrilled that you feel comfortable doing that. Thank you.” He nods wordlessly, shoulders hunched forward as he tries to make himself smaller. In Tommy’s dreamy, round eyes is a plea for direction.

“Lube, then you can touch yourself.” Thank god you’d been the one to discover this side of him, to teach him about it. Someone who didn’t love him as much as you did might not be so careful. Or they might judge him, shame him, and he’d stuff this beautiful, vulnerable part of him back down for good. While Thomas begins working his cock with a slick hand, you’re trying to quell the raging inferno that burned within. He looked so pretty stroking himself like this.

“You did the exact right thing, kitten. You did such a good job.” Nodding repeatedly, Tommy runs his forefinger and thumb over the just ridge of his cock frantically. His grip is so tight on the upstroke Thomas accidentally hurts himself and grunts in pain. In his widened eyes, you can see how much he wants to believe you, coupled with surprise at the strength of his own arousal.

“Be gentle with yourself, kitten,” you warn. His hand slows but the head of Thomas’ cock is already crimson. He pouts his bottom lip and screws his eyes shut while letting out a pitiful whine. Something has awoken inside Tommy and he was intimidated by it. You could feel that he wanted you to fix it even though he couldn’t put a name to it himself.

“Closer,” you encourage, pulling him in by his hips so Thomas was flush against you.

“But it's gonna get on your shirt,” he protests, transitioning into fucking his own fist.

“That’s okay! I can change my shirt, baby.” You get a hand in his hair, run it to the back of his neck while your other grips his glute. Tommy’s eyes flutter and he whines for something more. You wrap your arms around him, rubbing his back, kissing his chest, but his sounds just become more insistent.

“Kitten, you’re going to have to be patient while I learn how to take care of you.” He falls totally silent which wasn’t the goal at all. “No pretty kitty, keep making your sounds for me. Don’t deprive me of that.” Thomas switches to stroking his cock. His hand makes wet, intimate noises and you can smell the pre-cum. He’s even more vocal, moaning and whimpering for your benefit.

“Good girl. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, Tommy?” His chin trembles, but Thomas stays silent. “Answer me. Aren’t you such a good girl?”

“Mmm mhm,” his mouth falls open in pleasure. It was so rewarding to wrap Thomas in all these affirmations. You’d never praised someone more responsive. His cock is engorged to the point that you can see each vein contrasting with his flushed skin. He must be aching.

“Yes you are.” You manage to get his shirt off now that he’s stationary, which leaves his nipples available. You lean in slowly, so close that your warm exhales raise goosebumps on his skin. Thomas’ eyes open and he arches to get your mouth on him. In response you place a hand on the center of his chest, forcing him not to rush.

“Can I play with my pretty girl’s pretty nipples?”

“Yes!” he blurts, then looks surprised at the volume of his own voice. Testing his relationship to pain, you bite lightly instead of suck.

“Ah huh ah, fuck. Fucking fuck,” he cries out. Tommy’s expression isn’t one of discomfort or pleasure, it's something else. Overwhelm. He’s not ready to explore this, not by a mile. You shush him soothingly, switching to the other side of his blushing chest with just a kiss.

“C - can you help?” He’s using what you’re coming to recognize as Thomas’ little voice, his submissive voice.

“I’d love to take care of my kitten,” you purr. Tommy grabs your hand and thrusts it between his legs. He raises it up under his ball sack so you’re cradling the weight in your palm.

“Uh huh, mm,” he moans, while yanking his cock roughly. The sound is so pornographic that you can negligibly feel yourself get wetter from that one noise alone.

“Be gentle with yourself.” This time it's a demand without your usual warmth. Thomas starts paying attention to his whole length, not just abusing the tip.

“Good listening. Is this what my kitty needed?” You cup his sack snuggly in your palm. The teasing has the intended effect. Thomas grunts and strangles the comforter in his left hand.

“No, kitten, hold on to me.” You pull his hand by the wrist and bring it to your hip. “I’m going to take care of you.” Again, your tone is stern, not affectionate, but he’s so responsive. Thomas’ fingernails dig in through the silk fabric of your pajama bottoms. He leans closer and you can hear the guttural, feminine noises which are barely audible as they leave his parted lips. The fragile skin between his legs is so very soft, delicate even. It’s essentially no effort on your end, but the sensation is viscerally meaningful for Thomas.

Yet, even with your faces almost touching, he doesn’t go in for a kiss. Because kissing isn’t his heart’s desire. It’s hell not to pin just Tommy to the bed and fuck him for his own wellbeing. Submission is what he really needed. To supplement this urge, you lick and suckle his nipples with lots of spit, then take one under your free hand. Gently brushing your fingertips turns into twisting and pulling. Checking his face for discomfort, you find euphoria, but also tears. Thomas’ hips are twitching without rhythm and you can see him clawing at the edge of orgasam.

“Do you like the way my hand feels on your pussy? Such a good girl for asking me.” He cries out like he’s injured. Tommy is so conflicted, overwhelmed with all he’s trying to suppress and overwhelmed with how much he wants to get it all go and just be.

“Learning so quickly, kitten. You’re so smart and obedient already,” you coo. At the word obedient, Tommy lets out a sob and his face falls forward onto your shoulder. For his own safety, you get a solid hold on Tommy’s hair to protect his head. Without prompting, he slumps against you in total relinquishment of control. Only Thomas’ forearm moves, and at a frenzied pace. Without the headboard at your back this would just be a pile of limbs. Instead, you can use your grip as a vantage point to speak directly into his ear.

“You’re gonna cum with my hand on your pussy, pretty girl. Now.” Tommy chokes on a moan, but still manages to nod. “Such good listening. I’m so lucky that I got the perfect kitten.” He cums with a shout that startles Thomas himself. It's hysterical, primal, the release of a tension whose existence he was ignorant to until the moment of. You may not have been prepared for the volume, but the overall reaction is no surprise.

Catching most of his ejaculate in Thomas’ dirty makes the moment easier. You pull your boyfriend sideways, parting your legs so he can sit between, propping his head on your shoulder. The ends of his hair are sweaty under your hand.

“Why do I ah - always cr - cry,” he sobs.

“You don’t always cry baby.” Thomas never teared up when he was on top, but bottomng was rarely a casual experience for him. “Just when there's something you need the sex to help you release.”

“I don’t understand.” Except he did understand. He just wasn’t ready to face it which is a different thing entirely.

“Well what did it feel like to you?”

“Good. Calm, but intense. Easy but also…I don’t know.”

“Mhm,” you rock back and forth. “Were there any parts you didn’t like?” After a moment of thought, he shakes his head.

“I think when you compartmentalized your fetish, you also put away other parts of your sexuality, important parts.”

“Yeah that makes sense,” he sniffles. You reach over to the nightstand and put the tissue box between your knees. Then you just rock side to side while collecting your thoughts. During lovemaking, the risk of revealing something you hadn’t already approved caused Tommy to shut down out of fear. Perhaps that fetish wasn’t the only forbidden desire he harbored.

“For me, sex has always been easy between us. I want what you want and vice versa. There's no conflict because we’re very compatible.”

“Yeah, same.” Thomas wipes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Now you have to get from the shallow end to the deep end without him drowning.

“I think that compatibility comes from our…our energies being far apart on the sexuality spectrum. Opposites attract.”

“Uh huh.” He sounds unsure. Totally sensical, given the ramblings he was being asked to decipher.

“Basically you like taking suggestions and I like being listened to, right?”

“Okay, yes, I agree.” He nods and you examine his body language. Thomas’ hands are relaxed in his lap which is a promising sign.

“It's been a struggle to get you to advocate for yourself in bed.” Fingers crossed. “ Is that because you like doing what I say, independently of enjoying the actual activity?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

“What if it's something you really, really like? Wouldn’t doing the sex act be better than obeying?” His reaction to the word “obey” is very telling. His cock jumps even as it's becoming flaccid.

“I…then I have to direct the whole thing and sometimes that makes me anxious and I can’t enjoy it. Not always!” he desperately clarifies. “Just…sometimes.”

“So it’d be fair to say that being in charge is often a turn off for you?”

“Yeah.” His chest was still rising and falling at a semi-normal rate, so you settle on at least attempting to push him.

“Then what would you say is a turn on?”

“It being you.” He’d actually managed to say even less than you thought was possible.

“Me being the one in control and you being submissive?” It’s the first time you’ve used the s-word. Thomas holds his breath so you stroke his head again, twisting his damp, loose curls around your fingers.

“Yes,” he whispers. “But I know that, as a man, I should want to be dominant.” There it was.

“So as a woman, I should want to be submissive?” That one visibly stumps him. Thomas bites his lip in through and stares at the far wall with a concentrated expression.

“Well, no. You shouldn’t have to…I mean, I don’t care. I do care! I like things how they are.” He slides off your lap so your faces are level, but keeps his legs across your thighs.

“And what if I told you that your submissiveness is the sexist thing about you?” A wide-eyed Thomas goes through a dozen shades of red until even his ears are the color of an overripe tomato. “Have you ever considered that?” He shakes his head slowly, focus falling to his hands. “Hey.” You raise his chin by your pointer finger, then tuck a sweaty lock of hair behind his ear. Carefully, he drags his gaze up to meet yours.

“I already love the parts of you I haven’t met yet. So when you’re ready, I’m ready.”

Notes: I have my blog back after two months of my taglist and almost every social function not working! There might be a couple of fics you've missed out on because you weren't notified and my posts also weren't showing up in tags (crossing my mf finger it works now) I'm SO happy to FINALLY have you back.

-XOXO Eden

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dia-souls · 1 year

Text

🥀 Subayui fanfic 🥀

Pairing : Subaru 🗡️ and Yui🌸

Author: Admin Ava

Genre: Smut, NFSW, Sexual Themes

Chapter : 2 ( ending )

Warning: ⚠️ This fanfic includes NSFW please read at your risk and if you are uncomfortable with the themes of this story then I recommend you read more of the light hearted ones we have created. ⚠️

🌹 ~ Sweet Rose~ 🌹

Yui immediately hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Her whole body felt this intense heat coming from inside and a dew lingered on her skin which made her feel gross. Once she reached the bathroom she frantically turned on the tap and splashed ice-cold water on her face. Her mind was still reeling from that extreme dream she just had.

What exactly was that-she thought as she splash more and more water on her face trying to extinguish the fire that was still burning nonstop in her gut. After a few minutes, Yui turned off the water and slumped on the bathroom floor to catch her breath. The heat in her stomach had reconciled just a bit to where it was less uncomfortable. Her hair was damped and strains were stuck to her wet cheeks. Her nightgown was completely soaked throughout and to top it all off, she had ruined panties. “Haah….just what had happened? Why was I having that dream about me and Subaru-Kun?! I feel like such a pervert! How will I even be able to show my face to him tomorrow? Ugh!”

Yui crouch herself into a ball and stayed like that for a while until she had enough strength to get up and go back to her room. After witnessing the horror of the “mess”, she left on the bedsheets, she immediately ripped them off her bed and race down to the laundry room, shoving her sheets in the washing machine. She wiped the sweat off her brow and lean on the dryer until her stuff finish. She prayed to god that nothing like that would ever happen again.

Little did she know, it appears that karma was inching to punish.

For 5 days. Five unbearable intense days. Yui would go to bed and each time she would have a different dream involving Subaru and herself. And each time she would wake up a mess, unable to think straight and feeling as hot as a volcano. During those days she avoids Subaru at all costs. If he was walking down the hall, she walk the other way. If they were in the limo, she wouldn’t sit beside him. And if they were having dinner, she would be on the other side of the table.

Yui hated that she had to avoid him but she didn’t have a choice. If got within one centimeter of him, she might combust on impact. The best thing to do is lay low and wait till these horrid dreams disperse. However, what she hadn’t known was, Subaru had caught on to her strange behavior over the past week and it was starting to piss him off.

When he tries to corner her about it, she finds some way to escape or would avoid him entirely. Like every time she was around for even just a second, her face would become a tomato red color and she would run away like triplets were chasing her. It began to bug him each time she made an effort to pretend that he wasn’t there, and after the fifth day, he had enough of this cruel game she was playing. He was going to find out one way, or another.

On the sixth night, Yui was in her room, sewing up a tear in her uniform and reading a book on dreams that Ruki had given her. She wanted to know the cause of her perverted dreams but was way too embarrassed to tell someone. Especially the boys. She felt ill just even imagining what they would say to her if they found out about her annoying problem. They tease the living crap out of her and call her rude names than something probably even worst!

“Ah. I can’t think straight! What’s wrong with me? Those dreams have been plaguing my mind since Wednesday. If I have another one I might just go crazy!” She sighed. “I need something to calm my nerves. Hmm, maybe a glass of cold water might help.” Yui got up from her bed and smooth out the wrinkles in her new nightgown. Her old one had been batter and beaten by the boys, not to mention that it was the poor subject of all her dreams.

She went to go buy a new one but when she arrived at the store, she was pressured by one of the staff women to buy a white lacy one that was much shorter than her previous one. No matter how many times she tried to pull it down, it would always come back up. Another thing she wasn’t so keen on was how the gown showed off her cleavage. Once again she tried to pull it up but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Luckily a white cardigan came with the outfit so she was still able to cover up. She opened her door and made sure the coast was clear before heading downstairs.

Once she made her way to the kitchen, she didn’t turn on the light to make sure she wouldn’t wake anyone. So she used her phone’s flashlight to find the correct cabinet that held the glasses. The good news she found the right cabinet, the bad news is that it was high up which meant she was going to have to get on her tippy toes.

Yui placed her phone down on the counter and reached with all her might to open the cabinet. As she was doing so, her cardigan began to slide off her shoulders but she was too focused on the task at hand to notice. “Just a little more! Who thought it was a good idea to put the cups on the tallest shelf? Doesn’t Reiji know that some of us can’t reach that high? Ok, I’ve almost…go it…just a bit-“ As Yui's finger grazed the handle, another hand popped up from behind and open it.

Yui felt present behind her. She had thought it might’ve been Reiji who had come to scold her about being up so late. However, when she turned around to apologize, there, was the same man that she so desperately tried to avoid for the past week.”S-Subaru?!” Yui jumped back in surprise. She tried to back away from him but remember that there was a counter right behind her.

Yui looked at Subaru. He too was dressed in causal night clothes consisting of a plain black shirt with grey pants. His hair looked freshly washed and straightened but compare to how deadly his eyes looked. She knew she wasn’t about to leave easily.

“Oi. Why are you up? Shouldn’t you be asleep in your room like a good girl?” Yui held her breath as Subaru walked closer to her. The effects of his presents were taking a toll on her body. She was so flustered but there was no way she could let Subaru know that.” I wanna t-to get a glass of water.” Yui whispered as she fiddled with her hands trying to look at anything but his face. Subaru set down the cup and pushed Yui more into the counter then pressed his taller body against her shorter one.

“You’ve been actin’ real weird lately. I’ve been tryin’ to talk to you for a whole week now but it seems like you’ve been avoiding me” Yui immediately tensed up! Oh no he found out? Was she that obvious? Yui lips quivered as she looked for a way to escape. She thought about slipping past him but he was already one step ahead of her. Subaru slammed his hands on the counter, blocking the poor girl from any chance of escape. “Honestly, did you think that I wouldn’t find out about your strange behavior? God, you are stupid aren’t you? If anything your little stunt has been pissing me off and I think you should take responsibility.”

Subaru grabbed Yui by the wrist and pulled her out of the kitchen. Yui tried her best to plead with the vampire to let her go, but he was having none of it. After this bullshit week, he thought it was time they had a little chat. Subaru had taken them to his bedroom and pushed her in. Yui stumbled and fell back on top of his coffin.

Subaru locked the door and went up to the frightened girl who was frantically looking for a place to run. Subaru grabbed her by the arms and pinned her down. “Now, tell me. Why the fuck have you been ignoring me like I’m so kind of a virus?!” Yui stayed silent. How is earth was she supposed to tell him about her dreams? The embarrassment was too much to bare.” Tch. If you don’t answer me then I’ll just have to ask your body.”

Subaru licked his lips before ripping off her cardigan and yanking the straps down. “Wait no! Subaru stop!” But he wouldn’t listen. Subaru placed his nose on her porcelain white skin before licking a stripe up her neck. Yui teeth dug into her lips to stop herself from moaning. This was getting dangerous. If Subaru doesn’t stop his menstruations, she might just, *BITE*. Yui yelped in pain as Subaru's sharp hot fangs shank deeply into her neck. Blood began to flow into Subaru's mouth and down her chest. She tried to struggle but it was no use. Her body wasn’t listening to her, instead, it was obeying only Subaru. As her blood pour down his throat, he couldn’t deny that it taste different.

It tasted extraordinary. The taste was so rich and sweet, it was thicker so every drop quenched his thirst. However, his hungry still was relentless. He tear his face from her neck and licked every inch of blood there was. No wasting a single drop. “Haaa…your blood…fuck it's good. The texture of it has changed from the other times I’ve sucked it. I wonder if that’s the reason you’ve been avoiding me. Didn’t want me to find out about how different it tastes huh? Or maybe it’s something else. I’m in a pretty shitty mood right now and the slightest thing could set me off. So if you wanna keep living then I suggest you tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.”

Yui had her head turned away, her breathing was slow but her heartbeat kept getting louder. Her cheeks were flushed with red and her eyes were coated in a heavy layer of arousal. She hated that she didn’t know what was going on with her body, she hated that she was having such lewd dreams every night, and she hated that right now at this very moment, she wanted nothing more than for Subaru to eat her up.

She turned her head to look back at him, her lips were red from biting them and she had a few tear drops running down her face. She wanted to look away from those angry red eyes that captivated her, to not stare at those fangs that made her blood boil, but she had no choice. She couldn’t deal with this unbearable lust anymore! It was too much to handle.

“ T-The truth is Subaru-Kun, i-I’ve been having these dreams lately where….” “Why did you stop? Speak up alright!” “Alright fine! I've been having dreams that involve you and me. In those dreams, something lewd always happens and I end up waking up covered in sweat and something else. The things you’ve done to me in those dreams made my body feel weird and I can’t control it! Even now as you’re looking at me, I can’t bear it! My body is so hot right now and I desperately want your fangs! Your everything….this is why I avoid you because I knew that if I got within an inch of you that I wouldn’t survive! That’s why I've been avoiding you for a week….”

Yui expected him to look at her with disgust and anger for even thinking about him in a perverted dream. But instead, he laughed. “No fucking way! You’ve been having wet dreams about me?! I knew there was something wrong with you but I just thought it had something to do with your blood. But is even better!” A wet dream? Is that what it’s called? She thought that she might’ve heard that term somewhere before but couldn’t even get the chance to think as Subaru got in her face and gave her a toothy grin.

“Heh, who knew you were such a pervert~ I thought you were an innocent little girl but you're more naughty than I thought. Especially with how you look now. Tell you what, why don’t you tell me all the things I did to you in those dreams? And maybe I’ll make them come true.” “What?! There is no way I can say those things! It’s t-to embarrassing?” “ Tch you’re the one here with the lewd mind, not me. Plus as you said, your body is craving me, so why don’t you just give it what it wants? It’s not hard to tell how aroused you are. Your scent is so intense that I can smell it all in my room, and it’s been getting stronger even as we speak. I bet you can’t even take anymore right? You’ve been keeping it in for some time, at some point, your body will stop listening to you. So be a good girl and tell me what you desire~”

Yui wanted to deny it but she couldn’t even argue back. He was right, her body was aching, craving to be touched by him. She had dreamt about it for days and each time she woke up, she was always upset that the dreams stop so abruptly. With a sigh, Yui quickly gave a sincere apology to God and looked back at Subaru.

“W-Well first of you k-k-kissed me all over my b-b-body, then you started to s-s-suck my blood.” Subaru chuckled at her embarrassment. He ran his thumb over her small, plump, pink lips before pressing his own against hers. Yui clenched her eyes shut as Subaru's tongue found an opening and slid in. Their kiss was hungry, hot, and insatiable. Subaru groaned at the taste of her mouth. Why was every part of her body so damn sweet?

Yui meanwhile was trying to keep up with him, she wasn’t the best kisser and right now it was showing, but she didn’t care. She winced as his fangs bit into the bottom of his lips. Subaru eagerly sucked the sweet blood. It was too much for him, he was so drunk off her blood that any crumb of self-control that he had was gone. Yui opened her eyes, and what she saw made her squeeze her thighs together tightly. Subaru hair was completely on his face, blood dripping from his lips as his sharp tongue lick every drop up greedily. His fangs look longer and sharper. His pupils were completely dilated along with any common sense that he had.

Subaru lean towards her ear and in his deep voice whispered, “Oh little girl you have exactly no idea what am going to do with you~ Thanks to the blood running through your veins, it's made my more vampiric instinct kick in. Do you know what that means?” She shook her head. “If means that I am going to fuck the shit out of you until the only thing you can remember is my fangs!” Subaru roughly bit the side of her ear as he yank off her nightgown!

Yui tried to cover herself up but it was no use he had her pinned up and he wasn’t letting her free any time soon. Subaru let go of her neck, and he left harsh kiss marks down her collarbone to her chest. When he finally reached her chest, he grinned. “My brothers are idiots. They think that you don’t have a chest, and they are so surprised to see how nice it is, along with these pretty pink nipples of yours. But then if they ever found out, I’d murder them in cold fucking blood!”

Subaru lips attached to her breast as he nip at it. Yui wanted to beg him to stop but at the moment she couldn’t even think straight. All the pleasure had gone to her head and all she could do was moan as he feasted on her body. Subaru's hand went to her other breast, giving it a tight squeeze that caused her to yelp. “Oh, you like? You should’ve just said so~” Subaru squeezed even tighter as his mouth was busy abusing her other breast. His tongue was evil as it licked and wrapped around her sensitive nipple. Yui rubbed her legs together faster trying to calm down the heat that was growing out of control down there.

Subaru let go of her nipple with a pop! Then turn his head to the other one that was begging for some attention. “You weren’t kidding were you, look how responsive your body is to my touch, I fucking love it!” Subaru took the bud in his mouth once again as his other hand went to the previously abused one. “S-S-Subaru-Kun, please! Don’t….tease me like this! I can b-barely think.” Subaru grinned, and he slowly teased her breast as she begged for him to go faster.

It was killing her because she disparately wanted him to touch her down there. Subaru let the bud go then suddenly he got an idea. Subaru used both of his hands to grab both of her breasts and knead them like dough. Yui let out a string of moans and sobs as Subaru chuckled like the devil! He enjoyed watching her struggle as he played with her body to his heart's contents.

But then he notice that she kept rubbing her tights. Subaru's grin got wider as he took his hands away and forcefully pulled her thighs appear. “Would you look at that? You’ve completely soaked through your panties. How dirty, you’ve made a mess all over my bed. I’m goin’ to make you pay for that!” ‘Please don’t look!” Yui treat to close her legs with all her strength but it wasn’t enough to overpower Subaru”s. He put his head in between her legs as his fangs grazed her inner thigh. He deeply bit into the thick flesh. Blood dripped on his coffin while he did so. Yui sobbed in pain and pleasure. Does she wonder if this was punishment for her lewdness? If so she begged for it not to stop.

She was immediately pulled out of her thoughts by Subaru’s fingers rubbing up and down the damp spot of her panties. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as drool pooled down her mouth. She wanted to cry from how good it felt to finally be touched down there after so long. She’d been too scared to do it herself because of the sinful implications but right now, she needed more. She craved more of his evil touch. She bit her lips that were brushed from early. “Subaru…please…touch me more!” Subaru stop touching her and looked up at her with shock. “I see you’ve finally lost it huh? Well, that makes my job much easier.”

Subaru put two of his fingers in his mouth then slowly drag them down her stomach into her drenched panties then shoved them deep into her aching cunt. Yui jumped from the sudden impact down to a place she had never even touched herself. She should have felt ashamed, embarrassed, and guilty. However, right now that didn’t matter. All she cared about was how the hot coil in her stomach tighten as his finger rubbed her faster and faster.

Watching her lose her mind only made Subaru want to be even crueler to her. He slowed down his fingers, enjoying her whines as she sob for him to go faster. He removed his fingers and made her watch as he sucked her nectar off his fingers. “That’s enough teasing don’t you think~ I think that it’s time for the main course.” Subaru stood up and took off his shirt revealing his body to her. Yui gulped as more saliva flowed down her throat. He then pulls down his grey pants and boxers. Yui thought the first time she would ever see a man shaft, was on her wedding night. Subaru’s was big, thick, and long. A white liquid covered the tip of it, thick veins cover every part of it, and it looked heavy. “Hey, my eyes are up here. You’ve never seen one before right? How innocent you are~” Subaru pushed her back down and pressed his hard chest against her soft one. “Don’t worry I’ll try to be somewhat gentle”

Subaru gave her a soft kiss before, shoving his manhood inside of her wet cunt! Yui screamed as her body was overcome with unbearable pain but such intense pleasure! Subaru pulled out for a second to make sure she was ok. “I-I’m fine. Just give me a second to catch my breath.” Yui held on to him tightly before letting go and giving him the ok. Despite being ravenous earlier, he still wanted to make sure that she was ok.

He slowly pushed himself back inside and this time she let out a moan of enjoyment. Subaru smirked, now it was time to have fun. Subaru slammed himself in and out of her non-stop! The feeling of her wet walls squeezing him so tightly drove him mad. He lifted her legs higher to get a better angle so he could shove himself even deeper inside of her. Yui let out noise after noise as her hands found their way into his hair. She had never felt so hot and heavy but so full. Subaru's name fell from her lips like a chant. As if they were the only words she knew besides, “Faster!”

“If that’s what my prey wants!” Subaru pounded into her relentlessly until she let out a scream. Yui's vision went blurry as white specks blocked her site. “Oh no, you don’t! Not till I’m finished.” Subaru brought up his pace as Yui was brought back from nearly passing out. He gave her one last push before he let out a growl. Yui gasped as she felt a thick substance enter her body.

Subaru kissed her deeply as he continued to empty himself inside of her. Both of them collapsed on his coffin while trying to catch their breaths. Yui's head was full of stars, and her body was limp but a wave of relief washed over her body. That hot uncomfortable feeling she's had since her dreams first started was gone. She was so happy that she didn’t even notice that Subaru had left the room. She tried to get up to find him until a hand touched her shoulder.

“ Oi relax. You’re in no shape to move right now. Just sit back and let me take care of you.” Subaru had a wet cloth in his hand. He went in between her thighs and slowly clean her up making sure that she wasn’t hurt. “Sorry if I was rough. Wasn’t thinkin’ straight.” Yui gave him a tired smile as he threw the cloth away and opened his dresser. He pulled out a large red sweater from the top drawer and walked back to her. “Lifted your arms” Yui raised her arms above her hand as Subaru placed the sweater over her head. He picked her up over his coffin, giving the top a good clean before opening it back up and putting her on the soft mattress. Subaru quickly cleans himself up as well before getting inside with her.

Yui wrapped her arms around Subaru, snuggling her face in his chest. “Thank you.” “Huh? What are you thanking me for?” He gave her a confused look as she smiled at him. “I finally got rid of that uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. It’s thanks to you I was able to get rid of it.” Subaru blushed. He wrapped his arms around her as well then buried his face in her hair.”Stupid you don’t need to thank me for anything. You were just horny because of those wet dreams you’ve been having. Next time just come and find me when you have one. Don’t ask anyone else since I’m the only one who can satisfying you .” Yui's heart skipped a beat as she closed her eyes. “Ok, I promise.” Yui yawned as sleepiness coated her eye leads.

She closed her eyes and for the first time in a week, she stopped having those dreams. For now at least.

<- [ Chapter 01 ]

Chapter 2 ended.

Thank you reading!

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