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violettduchess · 8 months ago

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A/N: I know I am late but this is a very belated birthday present for a very special person: @lorei-writes 💜 I'm sorry this took so long but I hope you know what a wonderful friend you are and how grateful I am to have you in my life!

Chevalier x Reader, Only One Bed (the trope that won my poll!)

tw: injury

WC: ~2.5k

The trees whip past you, black blurs with long, spidery branches like fingers that reach for you, the wind carrying their whispers of how much they yearn to touch you, to pluck you from the back of the white horse you’re currently astride, tear you away from the man whose waist your arms are so tightly wrapped around.

Chevalier says nothing as he guides his horse expertly through the darkening forest, the evening light fading with each thundering heartbeat, each turn of the ground under the horse’s hooves. You hear the distant sound of yelling, of the soldiers who are pursuing you and squeeze your eyes closed, pressing your cheek harder against the softness of his white cloak. You don’t know how much time passes. Your arms begin to tremble with the effort of holding on. Your legs feel as if they are numb as they struggle to keep you atop the churning muscles of the animal beneath you. It’s only when you hear him say your name that you slowly come back to yourself, eyelids fluttering open as you feel his body slowly twisting away from you.

You’ve stopped.

Darkness has almost completely taken over. Only the palest shafts of dusk filter through the gaps in the trees. Strong hands reach up, pulling you down from the exhausted horse. Despite the heavy pace of the ride, Chevalier’s grip feels solid, a strength you lean into, wishing it would somehow seep from him into you and grant your shaking limbs calm, your burning lungs cool steadiness.

He waits a moment, still as the tree trunks, but you can see the way his eyes roam the gloom, searching.

A decision is reached.

“Can you stand?” His voice is low, quiet, hushed with alertness.

“Yes,” you manage, surprised at how raw your own throat is, how the words have to be forced out like sandpaper against rough wood.

He releases you and your back curls like a question mark, your hands sliding down to your knees where you hold yourself, focusing on breathing. Your shoulder burns, a lick of fire that feels oddly wet when you reach up to touch it.

You hear him murmuring to his horse, patting the loyal animal’s neck, speaking in a tone that is both gentle and soothing. Who would have thought the brutal beast capable of such softness? And then, having removed his bedroll and saddlebags from the animal, he reaches back and with a crack across the steed’s rear, sends it rushing away into the yawning darkness with a soft whinny.

What….? The horse is your only way back….how…. why…..

He may not be able to see your face clearly but somehow he can still read your thoughts. “It is familiar with these woods and will find its way back to the palace. We cannot risk having it close by.”

Suddenly his hand is grabbing yours and he’s moving, pulling you along with him over the uneven forest floor. “Come.”

You trust him to lead you, even if you cannot make out a path. He pushes his way through branches and brambles and bushes and you very quickly lose hope of ever figuring out what direction you are moving in. Just when your legs begin to cry for mercy, he pushes aside several low hanging branches to reveal the destination he has been heading for: The mouth of a small cave underneath an overhang of uneven rocks and scraggy bushes. It is here he takes you, into the maw of darkness.

You’re hit immediately with the strong, dank scent of rock and earth. Chevalier has to duck, the cave not high enough to accommodate his full height. How does he know where he is going? It’s nearly pitch black. You don’t have the energy to voice your concerns or questions. The aftermath of fear and flight has left you compliant, wordlessly trusting this man to lead you somewhere safe.

The mouth of the cave is almost out of sight when he stops, dropping to his knees in the darkness. You hear him lift the flap of the leather saddle bag, rummaging around until he finds what he is looking for. There’s a quiet snapping sound and suddenly the small area is illuminated with soft blue light, a sight so unexpected and beautiful that you gasp.

You’re at the back of the cave, surrounded on all sides by smooth stone. Chevalier is holding what looks like a vial of some kind, filled with glowing blue liquid. You’re so enchanted that you momentarily forget the terror of just an hour or so earlier, of the masked soldiers who ambushed you while on a sunset ride with the prince, the hiss of the arrows they fired at you, the cry of your horse as it stumbled to the ground and the way Chevalier swept you up in one fluid movement, anchoring you behind him even as he carried you away from the violent chaos, deep into the safety of the dark forest.

“What is this?” You touch the glowing tube even as Chevalier pulls out another, bending it until it emits a small cracking sound and more blue light, pale as the underside of the ocean, fills the cave.

“My brother may be a fool but he has his moments.” He sets the glowing vial down, turning to reach for the bedroll.

Clavis. Of course. He’s always working in his room, tinkering, inventing. That he was the one to come up with such a clever invention doesn’t surprise you. As Chevalier lays out the bedroll, you continue to look at the glowing tube. The gentle blue light almost feels like it’s wrapping itself around you, gentle waves guiding your lungs into a steady rhythm, your heart lowering its guard as you feel a sense of cautious safety begin to settle over you.

“Come here.” You look up to see Chevalier pointing to the bedroll. He’s kneeling beside it, pulling off his dark gloves one finger at a time, a small brown jar on the ground beside him. Before you can ask, annoyance flickers across his face. “You’re injured. This will help keep the wound from becoming infected.”

Injured? Where are you–

“Your shoulder. Now come here.” His words are crisp, edged with impatience.

You glance down, pushing aside your cloak and are stunned by the darkness that stains the sleeve of your white blouse.

When did that happen? In the blur of escape you didn’t even notice…..

Carefully you settle yourself in front of Chevalier. In the cool light, he leans close to you, shifting the torn fabric to try and examine the injury. He’s so close you notice just how long his lashes are, how the wild ride through the dusky woods tangled his pale hair. A slender red line mars the perfection of his face, a scratch that cuts a slanted line right beneath his cheekbone.

“It’s no good. I need more access.” He leans back as his eyes, so impossibly blue in the chemical light, flick up to yours. It takes a deep breath to keep you from free falling into those oceanic depths. Forcing a quick nod, you cast modesty aside, grateful for motion as it will keep you busy. Your cloak is tossed aside. One by one, you undo the buttons of your blouse until you can slide the material off your shoulder completely. The cool air of the cave brushes over your newly exposed skin and you shiver.

“It’s not deep. You should heal without issue.” He uncovers the jar and reaches inside with one finger, scooping up a generous portion of the milky salve. With a practiced hand, he begins applying it over the torn skin of your shoulder. Another shiver runs through you, something bright and restless that has nothing to do with the cold.

Hands that have rained down death and destruction are shockingly gentle as he touches you, spreading the salve evenly across your injury. You watch the passage of his finger across your skin, unable to look away even if you wanted to. Have you ever noticed how beautiful his hands actually are? He glances up and finds you staring at him. Whatever he sees in your eyes seems to unsettle him. He jerks his upper body back, hastily pulling his hand away and reaches back into the saddle bag for a strip of cloth which he ties around your upper arm. His fingers now expertly avoid touching your skin.

“That should suffice for the night.” He reaches for the jar, about to close it again.

“Wait!” You pull it from his grasp as surprise flashes across his face. Clearing your throat, you gesture with the small clay jar in your hand towards him. “You have a scratch yourself.”

His shoulder lifts in a gesture of indifference. “It’s nothing.”

You shift your body, turning to face him directly. Your blouse is still partially undone and he finds himself noticing the wash of pale blue light across the exposed skin of your shoulder, the way it highlights the line of your collarbone and the intimate divulgence of the skin beneath it.

“Please, let me.” Your voice carries a note of something tremulous in it, pulling his gaze back to your face, the parting of your lips, the soft supplication in your eyes. He finds himself acquiescing, his powerful upper body leaning ever so slightly towards you.

“If you must.”

The salve is cool to the touch and you apply a much smaller amount to the tip of your index finger, leaning towards him. Your other hand moves automatically, reaching up to catch his chin in order to hold him steady. He blinks, but otherwise does not move. You press your finger to the thin scratch on his face and slowly, carefully follow the red line. You’ve never been this close to him before. He carries the scent of roses and sweat, even after your hard ride. Your finger comes to the end of the scratch and it is with a surprising reluctance you let your hand drop from his face.

His chest rises with one breath, two. And then he tears his gaze away from the mesmerism of your face, leaning back to close the jar and return it carefully the saddle bag. He glances towards the cave’s entrance, shaking off the moment that still has your heart clenching with emotion.

“We cannot risk leaving now. We’ll stay the night and make our way back by the light of day tomorrow.” He gestures towards the bedroll. “It’s cold. Get in.”

“And what about you?” You don’t even realize you’ve crossed your arms, frowning.

He shakes his head once. “You’ll freeze before I do.”

“We can share it.” The words are out of your mouth without thinking. And they continue. “It’ll be snug but we can both fit. You need warmth just as much as I do. And you can’t protect me if you’re freezing to death.”

You’ve surprised him. He draws in a breath and then exhales. With every passing minute, as darkness becomes thicker outside the distant mouth of the cave, the temperature is indeed dropping.

Wordlessly, he leans forward, pulling off his dark, mud-splattered boots. The sight is somehow so intimate, so personal you find yourself watching, both fascinated and flustered. He removes his cape, folding it into a makeshift pillow and then pulls back the corner of the bedroll. It’s made of thick brown leather and lined with the softest looking white fur you’ve ever seen. He slides his long body inside and then jerks his head.

“Come then.”

You kick off your own riding boots close to where your cloak is lying, abandoned on the hard stone floor, and then with the roaring sound of your own heartbeat in your ears, you wiggle your way down into the bedroll beside him.

And immediately you realize you were wrong.

While the bedroll is large, it is not really made for two people. The only way you can remain covered by the top part is to press yourself as close to Chevalier as possible. He grunts as you hook your leg over him, nudging your hip against his. Your arm automatically reaches across his middle as you settle your head on his shoulder.

Now the bedroll flap closes, enveloping the both of you.

And Chevalier has not moved. He’s barely even breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your face burning as you begin to slowly scoot away. This was too much, too fast. You literally just touched his cheek for the first time ever and now you’re laying across him as if he's a pillow. “Maybe I…I can wrap the cloaks around me and–”

Your words are cut off as he pulls you back to him, his arm holding your body firmly against his. It’s a rough gesture, a jerky movement so unlike his usual feline gracefulness.

“You’ll stay here.” His voice is low, a soft growling sound that you feel as much as hear with your ear pressed against his chest, the vibration of it slowly winding its way through you. Heat blossoms within your stomach and your veins pulse with the sudden awareness of just how it feels to be held by Chevalier Michel, how every hard plane of his body fits perfectly against your own softness.

You blink as if you have been shocked awake, as if someone has ripped the curtains away from a window full of glaring sunlight.

Have you always felt this….desire? Has it been hiding itself within the shadows of your heart only to be dramatically exposed by your closeness to him?

Chevalier shifts ever so slightly, pulling you even closer as he tilts his chin down to look at you. Your own face lifts to meet his gaze. Clavis’s soft blue light illuminates the planes of his face, the pale white of his hair.

He is so breathtakingly beautiful.

For the second time tonight, you reach up and touch his face with your hand, this time cupping the strong line of his jaw. His lips part as if to speak but nothing comes. Ignoring the spark of pain in your shoulder, you stretch yourself upwards and press a kiss, soft as silk, warm as dawn, to his injured cheek. Beneath you, his chest stills with a breath held.

“Thank you, Chevalier.”

And you sink back down, your eyes closing as you allow yourself the peace of falling asleep, cocooned in the safety of his arms, welcoming the strange, new tide of yearning for him that has astoundingly, readily rolled into your heart and mind.

As for Chevalier himself?

He holds you through the night, each passing minute you are in his embrace more and more startling because despite the enemies at the gate, despite the cold of the cavern, despite all that has transpired, it has him wishing that dawn will never come and take you from his side.

Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @ozalysss @starlitmanor-network

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikemen chevalier #only one bed #happy happy birthday lorei!!!#ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #violettwrites

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 2 years ago

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A FRESH START [21]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: description of injuries, language, spoilers for S3 The Mandalorian, death of minor original character, self defense leading to homicide, groping of reader by stranger (not described in depth)

Word Count: 10k+

Updates every Thursday

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: i am so sorry this took so long i know y'all have been waiting all day for it. work was so hectic and i was so frazzled and it's been a long day hah. i know the tags at the bottom aren't all working right and i'm sorry about that but tumblr kept being a bitch and i was gonna lose my mind. speaking of taglists, i am closing AFS's taglist. anyways, hope y'all enjoy!]

#21: MADE OF THE RIGHT STUFF

"no one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear." -c.s. lewis

The Armorer had been a constant in Din’s life. She was a staple piece of the covert⏤ a figure of mentor ship in his upbringing. He had always greatly admired her, and her opinion meant a lot to him. It was why hearing her call him ‘Apostate’ had stung so badly. Coming from anyone it was a blow, but having the Armorer cast him away had been devastating. Being able to come before her, prove his redemption, and have her reinstate him had been a sweet moment. If Din were a smart man he would’ve left it at that and been on his way. However, Din was a stubborn man. A stubborn man who would not leave this rock until he got what he wanted come hell or high water.

“She is an outsider.” The Armorer spoke in Mando’a.

“Yes, but⏤”

“An outsider that you ask me to stoke the forge for?”

Din kept his entire body still to hide his nerves. “Yes. That is what I am asking.” The Armorer did not reply further. She stayed silent, seated by the forge with her hands laid in her lap. Din spoke up again, unable to resist. “She is made of the right stuff. The virtues of a Mandalorian. She may not follow the Way, but she understands it⏤ respects it.”

“You wish to court her?” The Armorer asked and Din gave a firm nod. “Have you presented her with a token of intention?”

Din thought to the blaster he had gifted you. Typically, a token of intention would be a weapon of some kind created for the intended. However, the blaster had once been his and it did not have his signet on it. Plus, it had been given to you while he was an Apostate. It did not count. “No. I have not.”

“This forge is for beskar, and I do not make weapons⏤”

“I am not requesting a weapon.” Din said firmly. He knew beskar was for armor. It was part of the reason his spear had been melted down to create Grogu’s chainmail. Din already had a plan for his token of intention. That was of no concern to him. “I am requesting a set of bracers with my signet.”

The Armorer’s head gave a slight tilt and he wasn’t shocked by her surprise. She rose from her seat and her hands clasped behind her back as she spoke. “You have yet to present this woman with a token of intention, yet you are requesting a token of ridduurok?”

“Yes.” Din replied. He knew how it sounded. Din was not blind to the weight of his request. However, it wasn’t as if he planned to present this to you the moment he returned. He was going to take his time, court you properly, and let you control the speed at which this relationship would move. Din was a man who was sure of what he wanted though, and he knew that was you. He had known that for quite some time now. There was no one else in this galaxy for him. People were constantly referring to you as his wife, and he always corrected them, but more than anything he wanted to be in the position where he did not have to. Din wanted it to be true. “I am sure of my decision and wanted to bring this decision to you sooner rather than later.”

“And if I refuse?” The Armorer pressed.

“I…” Din swallowed the lump in his throat. His hands clenched tight as they rested on top of his thighs. “I would be disappointed, but it would not stop me. She is who I want. She is… She is who I love.”

The Armorer hummed in response and it gave him no clear picture on where the figure head stood on this decision. She made the motion for him to rise from his seat. Din pushed up and tried to hide the tension in his frame. She finally spoke, but it was only to motion to the door and speak on a different topic. “Take your boy to the training yard. We will speak again.”

Din bit back a sigh and gave a tense nod. Well, it was better than an outright no. He turned on his heel to go find Grogu. As he walked, he lifted his vambrace to try and call you. Hours earlier you hadn’t answered, but Din assumed that meant you were busy in the clinic. It happened sometimes. Just as before, the signal did not pick up on your end and his steps came to a slow pause. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut. You were busy. His mind was jumping to the worst case scenario, but you were probably just busy. He forced himself to keep walking. Din would try again soon.

Your ears were ringing, and you felt like you were trapped in a fog. There was a tugging on your arm. You lifted your gaze to try and find the source. Nima. It was Nima. She stood by your side, eyes wide in panic, as she screamed at you. She screamed but there was only the ringing. With a final tug, she dragged you up to your feet and the world snapped into focus.

Sirens. A siren was blaring and it mingled with the sound of explosions as fire rained down from the Corsair in the sky. “We have to go!” Nima screamed and your eyes snapped to her. “Come on! Move!”

Nima was pulling you down the road as the two of you got lost in the crowd of other panicked citizens. The smell of smoke burned your nose and you could feel the heat of various burning buildings as you passed. Your head was throbbing and with every step your vision would blur for a second before shakily coming back into focus. The flow of the running crowd picked up speed and panic as another bomb fell not too far away and your hand slipped out of Nima’s. You heard her scream out your name, saw a flash of her pink skin as she tried to jump and spot you, but she was swept even further away.

Someone slammed into you from behind and you went sprawling. Get out of the way. Get out of the way. This was a stampede and you needed to move. Unable to get to your feet quick enough you threw yourself to the side beside some rubble so you weren’t trampled.

While leaning against the rubble, you tried to catch your breath. Your arms were covered in the dust being kicked up into the air, but no immediate wounds. Hesitantly, you probed at your hairline and winced when you found a tender spot. Pulling your hand back your fingers were coated in a shine of blood.

“Shit.” You breathed. That explained the concussion.

Most of the crowd had passed and you glanced around to figure out where you were. The school house was up ahead which meant if you kept pressing down the street you’d reach the lava plains. With a grunt, you tried to jog forward⏤ in the distance behind you, the sounds of deep, excited yelling spurned you on. As you were passing the school the sound of a muffled scream brought you to a screeching halt. You paused, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart and the excited yelling getting closer. After a beat, there was another scream. Fuck, the schoolhouse.

Your eyes darted to where you could see the edge of the city. Din would be so mad at you. You could almost hear his voice at the back of your mind barking for you to get the hell out of Nevarro. The scream came again and it sounded young. All you could picture was Grogu, scared and hurt, trapped in the rubble. That made your decision for you. If this had been your boy you’d want someone to stop for him. You sprinted into the school house and scanned the destroyed classroom. The back corner had caved in from a bomb.

“Hey!” You yelled. “Can you hear me? Where are you!?”

“Here!”

That was Wynn’s voice, Grogu’s teacher, and it sounded like it was coming from the space behind the pile of rubble. You hurried over and scanned the pile for a spot you could pull away. Wynn was making calming noises to a sobbing and hysterical child⏤ that’s who had screamed. You wrapped your fingers around a block and pulled it back. The large chunk of concrete shifted just enough that you could get down on your knees and crawl through.

All of the rubble had blocked off one of the small back cubbies where the children would keep their bags. There you found Wynn, uninjured but covered in dust, clutching a familiar child in her arms. Elodie. You tried to bite back the gasp that threatened to leave you.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay.” You said softly and crawled closer. “Do you remember me, Elodie?”

She sniffled, “You’re⏤ You’re Gro⏤ Grogu’s mommy.”

“That’s right.” You nodded and shifted so you sat right beside them both. Elodie’s blonde hair was covered in soot and you could see bright red blood on her shirt. Jaen and Dayen were probably out of their minds with worry. Maker. “Can you tell me what hurts?”

“Her arm.” Wynn mouthed.

Elodie was crying once more, and you reached forward to carefully touch her. Elodie let out a scream of panic and you tried to whisper reassurances. “It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetie. I’m gonna make it better.” You pulled her right arm away from her body as it had been cradling and covering the left one, and as soon as you did you felt the blood drain from your face. Still, you kept your features neutral. Her left arm was broken, her pale skin discolored in ugly shades of purple and red, and the bone itself had pierced out of her skin. That’s where the blood had come from.

“The other kids were out for recess. My assistant got them out, but Elodie had come back in to use the bathroom.” Wynn shook her head. The gentle woman was trembling. “I couldn’t move the rubble and hold her.”

You gave your pockets a pat, but the only item you had on you was some medical tape. “Dank farrik.” You muttered. “Wynn, where’s the school’s first aid kit?”

“Out by my desk.”

You spun and crawled back out of the rubble to find the kit. If the kit was up to date then you’d have the supplies you needed for a temporary patch job. It didn’t take you long to dig the kit out of the desk, but it was then you noticed the explosions had stopped. Everything had stopped save for the hooting and hollering in the distance. Shit. You raced back to where Wynn and Elodie sat.

“Alright, sweetie, I want you to look at Ms. Wynn, okay? Just her.” You said. You met Wynn’s gaze and she seemed to understand what was about to happen and nodded.

“Hey, honey.” Wynn spoke softly and shifted so she could hold Elodie’s head to face her. You dug through the kit while the teacher spoke calmly and kindly to the little girl who was still crying. The first thing you did was grab the medgun which was loaded with pain meds and punched the needle into her arm without warning. Elodie’s crying grew worse and you hit her with the needle twice more. Three doses was just below what would be too much for a girl her size. Then you grabbed the bacta spray and began to coat the open wound with it in thick layers.

The numbing pain meds seemed to be working as her sobs turned to hiccups, but she was not going to like this next part. However, the sound of the attackers was growing closer which meant you were running out of a window to do this. You set one hand behind Elodie’s elbow and grasped her left hand with your other. Wynn saw the motion and held onto Elodie tighter. You gave her hand a sharp tug, drawing the bone back into place, and the scream that left Elodie’s little lips was haunting. It only lasted a second before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she went limp.

“Elodie??” Wynn cried.

“She’s okay.” You checked her pulse and breathing. “The pain just overwhelmed her.”

Quickly, you grabbed the gauze and wrapped it around her arm along with the collapsible splint to keep it from moving. The sound of a deep laugh while someone kicked around items made you and Wynn freeze. You carefully closed up the kit and motioned for Wynn to pull Elodie to the side and even deeper into the pocket you were trapped in.

“I liked this place better when it was a bar!” A voice barked out and other men laughed. You were hearing at least four voices. “Look at all this shit!” The sound of furniture being tossed around made you wince. “Where’s Beetl with the liquor!?”

It sounded like they were settling into place and you mentally cursed.

The three of you were going to be stuck here for longer than you liked, and you just prayed Elodie stayed unconscious.

Din was getting nervous. So much so that he couldn’t even enjoy watching Grogu beat Paz’s son in a sparring match with darts. All he could think about was the fact that he wasn’t getting in touch with anyone from Nevarro. You still weren’t picking up his calls, and now he couldn’t get in touch with anyone else either.

He had to go back.

“And you’re going to take Grogu with you?” Bo Katan questioned.

“He goes where I go.” Din replied. Grogu grunted in agreement from his arms while Bo Katan shook her head in disagreement. He had told her a quick good-bye and to explain to the others where he was going. Din had a sinking feeling since this morning that he just couldn’t shake.

“Djarin⏤”

His vambrace chirped as a message came through and Din let out a breath of relief seeing Mayfeld’s name. Din shifted the call to his helmet. “Mayfeld! What the hell⏤”

“We got trouble, boss.” Mayfeld blurted. His voice strained. “King Gorian Shard is here. His Corsair is raining fire down on Nevarro. We evacuated the city and⏤”

“Soran.” Din blurted your fake name, the one you still went by. “Where is she? Is she alright?!”

“I’m sure she’s fine⏤”

“You’re sure??” Din barked. “You have eyes on her?! Mayfeld! Do you have eyes⏤”

“I saw her and Nima running out of the city when this all started.” Mayfeld snapped, the sound of blaster fire filled the other line before he spoke again, “We’re trying to keep the pirates away from the citizens, we’re out in the lava plains⏤” Din felt like he was going to be sick. That wasn’t enough. That wasn’t enough reassurance for him. “Mando!? Mando, are you listening!?”

“I’m coming. Just keep them safe. Please get Soran to call me when you see her.”

“It might be tough. The Corsair is jamming our communications. We’ve been trying to get in contact with you this entire time but⏤”

The call cut out and Din was already moving. Bo slid into his path and he nearly bowled her over to get past. She held her hands out and forced him to a stop.

“What is happening?”

“Nevarro is under attack. Gorian Shard brought his Corsair and his men have infiltrated the city.” Din snapped. “Now move⏤”

“You can’t just go there alone.”

“Get the hell out of my way.” Din’s hand drifted to his blaster.

Bo let out a slow sigh and tilted her head. “Think, Djarin. What do you think you’ll be able to do on your own? You’re out gunned on this. You need back up.” Logic told him that she wasn’t wrong, but every fiber of his being was screaming for him to shove past her and get to the N1. “You’re wasting time here with me.”

“I know!” Din yelled, frustrated. “So get out of my way, Bo.”

“The covert is a community, is it not? A family?” Bo questioned. “You have some of the finest warriors in the galaxy here, yet you want to go to Nevarro alone?”

Din was shaking. A mix of anger and fear. Grogu tilted his head up to gaze at him, wide eyes filled with concern. His son may not have fully understood what was happening, but he knew something was wrong. Grogu chirped, “Ma?”

“I get it. I do. But how much can you help this girl of yours if you run in blind and get yourself killed?” Bo pressed. She shook her head. “You drive me up the wall, Djarin, but I know you’re not a complete idiot. Think for a second here.”

With a frustrated huff, Din spun on his heel to find the Armorer. With every step he took, Bo on his tail, Din prayed to the Maker, and any other deity that may be listening, that you were somewhere safe. He was coming for you. Din would tear through any person who stood in his way. He just needed you to hold on a little while longer.

Apparently, the pirates had decided to make the schoolhouse their new cantina. Never mind there was literally a cantina filled with drinks right in the middle of the city they could use. New voices would come in and out, laughing loudly and blindly firing their blasters, while you and Wynn stayed silent. Hours had passed. As unlucky as this entire situation seemed, you were thankful that Elodie was still out cold and that not a single one of the attackers was curious enough to dig through rubble.

You leaned your head against the wall and tapped on your communicator uselessly. It was dead for some reason. Maybe the attack had something to do with that. None of your calls were going out and if someone was trying to call you then it wasn’t coming in. You let your arm fall to the side and glanced over to see Wynn gently running her fingers through Elodie’s hair in a soothing pattern.

Poor Jaen and Dayen. You hoped they were alright and out in the lava plains with everyone else. If you were in that situation, stuck outside the city while Grogu was trapped Maker knows where? There was nothing that would keep you from racing after him. You’d claw the face off anyone who tried to stop you from searching for him. Despite knowing that fact, you still hoped someone was holding them back. The last thing you wanted was for something terrible to happen to them.

A loud crash made you and Wynn jump. You shifted so you sat between the only opening out into the main room and the little girl. Wynn wrapped her arms tighter around Elodie. Laughs followed the crash and it seemed like you were still safe⏤ for now. This wasn’t going to last. You couldn’t just sit here and pray a miracle happened. All it would take is one noise from the three of you or one of the pirates getting nosy and that would be it. Game over.

The light that had been streaming through the hole in the ceiling, created from the rubble, had disappeared hours ago. As night settled over Nevarro this could be good or bad news. If you were lucky then with the darkness the pirates would drift away to sleep and give you three a chance to make a run for it, but if you weren’t lucky then even more people would drift into the school house to drink. Based on the setting, you were not having a lucky day and so far it seemed none of the men drinking were slowing down quite yet.

A soft whimper made you stiffen and you saw Elodie begin to squirm in Wynn’s arms. Wynn’s gaze met yours in a panic and you began to quietly dig through the first aid kit again. You couldn’t expect the young girl to stay completely quiet with an injury like that. There were a few more doses of pain medication. You hated the idea of giving her more than the recommended dose, but as long as you kept an eye on her vitals. Risk versus benefit. In this scenario, there was more benefit than risk currently.

You pressed the needle into her upper arm and moments later her features evened out. You let out a breath of relief and leaned your head against the wall once more. This was a waiting game and that was your least favorite situation to be stuck in. With a slow breath, you let your eyes close for just a moment.

“Soran.”

A soft hiss made your eyes snap open, to see Wynn trying to grab your attention. You felt dazed and you were now lying on your side. You had closed your eyes for only a second, but the lighting had changed. It was still dark, but the dim glow of dawn could be seen through the ceiling’s hole. You pushed up and winced at the headache still lingering behind your eyes.

“Shit.” You mumbled quietly. “How long was I out?”

“Through the night?” Wynn whispered back. “I was worried. You were out cold.”

“Elodie?”

Wynn shook her head. “Still sleeping.” You turned your head to try and listen out for the main room. It was mostly quiet now, but there was still an artificial glow peeking through the rubble’s cracks. “I think most fell asleep, but they’re still out there.”

You shifted and reached out for Elodie. “Take a break, Wynn. Get some sleep.”

She nodded without much argument and you could see the exhaustion in her eyes. You wished you had woken earlier. It didn’t take long for Wynn to lay down and fall asleep herself while you curled Elodie in your arms⏤ careful not to jar her arm. Holding her made you miss Grogu, but you were thankful he wasn’t here. If anything ever happened to him you don’t think you’d survive it. Him or Din. That was a comfort you could take in this. Neither of your boys were here to possibly get hurt.

They were worlds away⏤ safe.

Maybe an hour had passed when Elodie began to murmur and move against you. You held her tighter to your chest and whispered that she was safe with you. A whimper left her lips and you winced. “Elodie, sweetie, you’re okay. I need you to stay quiet for me.” You whispered. Her bleary eyes blinked open and you ran a hand through her hair. “It’s me. You’re safe with me and Ms. Wynn. Everything is okay.”

“I want my mommy and daddy.” Elodie began to cry. You buried her face into your shoulder to muffle the sounds of her sobs.

“I know.” You mumbled into her hair. “I know, sweetie.”

Elodie cried for a while, but it slowed to harsh and tired breathing. She was awake and clinging to you with her good arm. You continued to run your hand through her hair and murmur how brave she was and how proud her parents would be. This seemed to marginally calm her.

The sound of shuffling grew closer to the rubble and you felt your entire body stiffen⏤ on edge. It didn’t seem like he was looking for anything and moments later you heard the sound of peeing off to the sound of the rubble. Your nose scrunched in disgust but you supposed it could be worse. The man began to talk to some others and you listened as closely as you could to try and count the number of people in the room. As the glow of dawn spread across the sky, you really needed to get out of here. Elodie was stable, but she needed proper medical care.

Wynn woke up when you hissed her name and you shifted the little girl in your arms to her. They both stared at you in alarm as you crawled slowly and quietly toward the rubble blocking you in. As you got closer you laid on your belly and shuffled closer. You were low enough to be able to peek through the entrance, but you stayed as far back as you could to remain out of sight just in case one of the men was facing the rubble.

“How long do we gotta stick ‘round here?” A man scoffed. Someone threw a bottle and you heard the glass shatter with a wince. “Can’t we go?”

“You wanna tell the King what to do?” Another snorted. “Be my guest, idiot.”

A third man chimed in and they seemed to go in circles. Three in total then? Unless one was quiet, but you sincerely doubted that. It seemed like every soul that swung through here couldn’t keep their mouth shut. You crawled back deeper into the pocket to settle beside Wynn and Elodie.

“We need to get out of here.” You whispered. “I have a plan. I’m going to distract them⏤”

“Wait⏤”

“⏤and while I do that, you’re gonna take Elodie out the back and use the alley to get Elodie to the lava plains. It’ll be a straight shot. Just stay off the main street.”

Wynn shook her head. “This is dangerous. You’re putting yourself in an awful situation. Maybe we should just stay.”

“We’re tempting fate just by sitting here, and Elodie needs further medical care.” You argued. “This is our best bet.” Wynn still didn’t seem convinced, but you had already made your decision. In your career, you needed to rely on gut calls. Instinct. No time for hesitation. It was best if you did this now before more men showed up. “I’m gonna make them chase after me, and as soon as they follow you need to take Elodie out the back door. Do you understand?”

Wynn nodded after a moment. “I do. Just please be careful.”

Before you could lose your nerve, you crawled back toward the rubble entrance and tried to listen and figure out where each man sat. If you had to guess, you’d say they were on the other side of the room which worked in your favor, and the front door was a straight shot. The issue would be going from on your knees to running without tripping over or being shot. Once again, you heard Din at the back of your head telling you what a reckless and stupid idea this was. That was always a good sign, right?

You sucked in a sharp breath, waited until you heard the men burst into laughter, and then pushed out. It all moved in a blur. You stumbled over your feet, trying to get off your knees, you heard the men shout in alarm, but you kept moving. They were jumping up, yelling at you, but you pumped your arms to sprint faster toward the door. You took a sharp turn right out the door and ran down the street towards the city’s center⏤ away from the direction Wynn and Elodie would need to go in.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw three men following. Good. Your plan fell apart when you turned your head to see where you were running only to collide into a firm body that sent you sprawling to the concrete ground with a grunt.

You tried to jump up, but a boot pressed down on your chest keeping you pinned on your back. A thickly built Twi’lek stared down at you with a sickening grin. His skin was a dark shade of purple and you could see an injury on his side that stained his clothes with blood.

“Well, well,” The Twi’lek hummed, “Aren’t you just adorable?”

“Oh, come on, Kiff.” One of the men who had been chasing you complained. “We saw her first!”

The Twi’lek, Kiff, shook his head and glared at the men. “Is there a reason you left a civilian alive? You had strict orders.” He drew his blaster pointing it at the men first who shuffled back a step and then he pointed it down at you. You stiffened, your hands gripping his boot, and he just smirked down at you. An excited anticipation glowing in his dark eyes. This man was looking forward to killing you. “Any last words?”

“You’re going to die.” You blurted the first thought that came to mind. His face furrowed at the threat, but you shook your head and pointed at his side. “That injury. I’d guess you have an hour at most.”

“It’s nothing. I was just grazed. Not even bleeding anymore. Nice try.” He huffed.

You were lying through your teeth, but he didn’t look like a man who knew much about anything. You kept your voice calm and firm. “I can see the bruising from where your shirt is torn. It’s not bleeding externally anymore, but you are bleeding internally. That’s where all the bruising is from.” He swallowed once and you kept on. “Right now, I bet you feel fine. Barely hurts. Give it another half hour and you’re gonna be in agony. Look at me.” You motioned down to yourself. “You think I’m wearing these scrubs for the fun of it? I’m a doctor, you ass.”

“Then I guess that means you know how to fix it.” He spat at you. Kiff put his blaster away and reached down to snatch you off the ground. You were barely on your feet when his hand clamped around your throat painfully tight. You clawed at him, trying to loosen the grip, but he didn’t even flinch. “Fix it. Now.”

“Clinc.” You gasped. “I need⏤ Clinc.”

Kiff threw you aside and you sucked in as much air as you could while trying to stay on your feet. The other pirates were still watching as Kiff buried his hand in your hair and held on like a leash. He leaned forward to press his lips near your ear. “Lead the way, bitch.”

It had taken hours too long to get to Nevarro. Din was thankful for Bo, thankful for his covert, as they agreed to help, but as his ship entered Nevarro’s atmosphere and his eyes landed on the smokey and still burning city beneath a monstrous Corsair, Din lost his breath. You were down there. You were in that mess.

“Ma? Ma!” Grogu was slamming his hands on the N1’s window. Din scooped the boy up to bring back to his lap and tucked him under his bandolier as a makeshift seat belt.

Bo’s voice came over his comm unit, checking in to see if Din was still on board with the plan, and he was forced to agree. She was going to drop a unit of Mandalorians down to the city streets to fight, but it was up to him and Bo to take care of King Gorian Shard’s ship. As he got near, he saw a group of civilians nestled out in the lava plains. Were you there? You had to be there. Din could not wrap his mind around any other situation.

“Let’s get this done.” Din barked gruffly over the communication line.

The sooner he burned Gorian Shard’s ship to the ground, the sooner he could find you.

The clinic was in shambles. Most of the structure itself looked intact, but a group of pirates must have ran through to scavenge for supplies because everything was sloppily tossed around. The hand tangled in your hair was roughly pulling, making your scalp ache, as you let him shove you forward into the main clinic space. You had a plan. It was a very, very bad plan, but that seemed to be the theme of the last 24 hours.

“Well, get to work then.” Kiff threw you aside before climbing up onto one of the cots. You straightened your posture and tried to steel your nerves as you approached him. He stared at you, eyes following your every moment, as you reached out to peel his shirt up. You pretended to examine his skin. “How long is this gonna take?”

“Depends.” You muttered⏤ your throat felt raw from his grip earlier.

Kiff’s hand trailed down your side until it reached your backside. He kneaded his fingers over your ass, groping and pulling you closer, and it took all your strength to keep a steady face. You knew he was looking for a reaction.

“I think you just wanted to get me alone.” Kiff hummed arrogantly.

“I need to grab the cautery.” You said and turned to walk toward your desk. He slid off the cot to grasp your hips and you felt a terrifying chill run down your spine as your skin crawled in disgust. “You should stay seated.”

“I think I’ll follow along.” Kiff leaned forward and you tried to ignore him as you continued toward your desk. He follow only half a step behind, large hands groping where he could reach, and you felt his hot breath on the back of your neck. When you reached the desk, your shaky hand reached for the top drawer. Kiff leaned into you, pinning you between his hips and the side of the desk, as he chuckled. “I could fuck you right here, right now. How’s that sound?”

A while back, Din tried to convince you to carry the blaster he gave you on your person at all times. You argued that a doctor shouldn’t be walking around locked and loaded. Din didn’t love your argument, but the two of you settled on a compromise. You wouldn’t wear the blaster on your hip, but you’d keep it within reach at the clinic.

Your hand wrapped around the blaster’s grip, your finger clicking off the safety as Kiff was distracted by feeling you up, and without pause you spun and fired. He was so tangled around you that the shot only clipped his side, but it was enough to make him grunt in pain and stumble back.

“You bitch!” He roared.

Not giving him the chance to say anything further or even to reach for a weapon, you fired again. And again, and again, and again. Your finger pulled the trigger over and over. Even after the fourth and fifth burned through his chest and he lay on the ground with blank eyes, you fired more. In fact, you didn’t stop until the blaster overheated and slipped from your shaky hands. If anyone deserved to die it was a piece of shit like him, but you had taken an oath to do no harm. You had lost patients before, that was the nature of medicine, but you had never deliberately taken a life before.

Nausea rolled through your body as the stench of burning flesh met your nose. It was familiar to you, but only through procedures and operations. Never like this. Never caused by your hand. Panicked, the voice at the back of your head, the one that sounded like Din, pleaded for you to pick up the blaster and run. You wondered how hard you had hit your head yesterday to be hearing his voice like this. You picked up the blaster with trembling hands and hurried out of the clinic.

Lava plains. You needed to get out of this city.

The sound of a firefight was filling the air as you began to sprint down the street, but a very familiar sight sped by overhead in a blur. The N1. Your feet came to a screeching halt. Din. Din was here. Din had come. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks in relief. You were still in the midst of a war zone, surrounded by fire, smoke, and danger, but just knowing that Din was in the vicinity came as an incredible comfort. Stumbling forward again, you tried to send out a call through your communicator once more, but it still seemed dead.

Just keep moving. Din was here now which meant everything was going to be alright. Just keep moving.

You had made decent progress down the road when the sight of a familiar body filled your view. Wynn. It took a beat before you rushed to their side. Wynn was lying on her chest so you cautiously flipped her over and a soft groan left her weary lips. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the significant wound decorating her abdomen. A blaster shot. Her dress and skin were charred from the heat of the blaster fire, but it clipped deep enough to hit an artery. That was the only explanation for the amount of blood you were seeing and the continued steady ooze. You applied pressure to the wound, to try and stop the bleeding, and Wynn didn’t even whimper in pain. Her just fluttered.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” You said, trying to convince yourself more than her.

“Elodie…” Wynn gasped.

“Reinforcements are here. You just gotta hang on⏤”

“She ran. I told her to run.” Wynn pushed the words out. “They ambushed us. I⏤I tried⏤ I tried to hold them back.” You pressed down on her abdomen harder. The blood seeping through your fingers. You bit down hard on your lower lip and tried not to cry out at how useless you felt. You knew the odds of this injury, you were fighting fate currently. “Find her⏤”

You shook your head. “I will. I will, but I have to take care of you first. You’re bleeding⏤” Wynn’s shaky breaths came to a stop as you watched the life leave her eyes. “No, no.” Frantically you felt for a pulse and when you didn’t find one, you began CPR. Desperate. Was this your fault? Maybe you should have stayed in the school house. Had you made the wrong call? After three short rounds you fell back on your heels with a shaky gasp. “Wynn?”

Her unseeing eyes stared blankly up at the sky. Tears were rolling down your cheeks again and when you tried to swipe them away you felt her hot blood, still fresh on your hands, smear across your cheek and you gasped. You tried to use your scrub top to wipe it away.

Elodie. You had to find Elodie. Wynn’s blood was on your hands, figuratively and literally, but you had to save Elodie. You gently closed Wynn’s eyes, whispering an apology, and stumbled away. The blaster was back in your grasp and you were desperate.

“Elodie!” You yelled. Not giving a single damn if the pirates heard you. The sound of blaster fire echoed down the streets just as it rang in the air overhead. “Elodie!” You were weaving in and out of buildings as you were able and peering down any alley you passed. “El⏤”

The heat of a blaster bolt screamed past you only narrowly missing you. You threw yourself to the ground as more fired in your direction. The pile of rubble you hid behind took most of the blows, but you could hear the yelling of your attackers growing closer. Shit. Shit. Shit. Blindly, you lifted your hand to try and fire a few shots of your own, but if it made contact with anyone you didn’t hear it do so. You tried to scan the region, looking for an escape, but the two paths you saw involved running out into the open. You wouldn’t survive that.

Right as you began to try and force yourself into accepting the terrible decision of making a run for it. Louder, rapid blaster fire filled the air and the attackers screamed briefly before it all fell quiet. Someone had killed the men firing at you. The enemy of your enemy was your friend right? Hesitantly, you peered around the rubble and the sight of Mandalorian armor made you jump back out into the street.

The Mandalorian, a large man in armor decorated in shades of blue, carried a black turrent and it swiveled toward you at the sound of your approach. You held your hands up in surrender. “Please! I need help!”

“The path is clear.” The man barked out in a deep voice and motioned down the street. The direction you knew would take you to the lava plains. “Go.”

“No, I⏤ There’s a child lost here.” You rushed to stand in front of him. His broad frame towered over you. You had always thought Din was a large Mandalorian, but this guy may as well have been a building with legs. “I need help finding her.”

“I will seek out the child. You leave the city.”

“I’m not leaving her behind.” You glared at him.

He stiffened and maybe you had just gotten good at reading Mandalorian body signals from Din, but you could tell this man was glaring at you through his helmet at your disobedience. “This area is not fully secured. Leave the city and I will⏤”

“You can’t kill pirates and search for a little girl at the same time.” You snapped. “I’ll stay and we can⏤”

“You will go⏤”

“Look at me!” You barked out with the same confidence you used to command any other emergency you had encountered. The Mandalorian looked taken aback at your tone. You kept your shoulders tight, solid, then spoke in a firm voice that gave no room for argument. “I am going to find Elodie, and you are going to mow down any pirate that gets in our fucking way. Do you understand? This is a team effort. I am not leaving that little girl behind. So either you help me, or I do this on my own.”

The Mandalorian was fuming at you. At least, that’s what you were assuming based on the silent gaze he was burning down into you. This was not debatable. You lost Wynn. You would not lose Elodie. Over your dead body would anyone hurt that little girl any further. Finally, the Mandalorian blew out an irritated sigh and bobbed his head down the street.

“Move then.” He ordered.

You pointed down an alley to the left. “I’ve already been down that way. We need to cut here to search further.”

Without waiting for his response, you marched down the alley. Only a second passed before a heavy hand clamped down on your shoulder and roughly dragged you back. The Mandalorian scoffed. “I have the weapon. I stand in front. Understand, wero’ika?”

“Fine.” You replied. You recognized the sound of Mando’a but didn’t know the word he used. It didn’t linger long in your mind though. The two of you were pushing down the alley and despite the Mandalorian telling you to keep quiet you continued to yell out Elodie’s name. More blaster fire, getting closer, made your heart pound even harder in your chest. “Elodie!”

“I said you need to⏤” The faint sound of a response only barely reached your ears and you shushed the Mandalorian. “Did you just⏤” You shushed him again and tried to listen. His next word came out in an irritated growl. “Wero’ika.”

“I hear her. I hear Elodie.” You blurted and sprinted past him.

His thundering footsteps stayed only a step behind you and the Mando’a words he was spitting out under his breath were all the curse words you had heard Din use a time or two. You came to the edge of an alley, right where the blaster fire was loudest, and the Mandalorian shoved you behind him once more just in time for a bolt to bounce off his beskar covered chest. Your eyes frantically scanned the street and it took you three times before your eyes found the little blonde girl tucked in a ball and sobbing as people fired over her head.

“There!” You took a step forward to try and peer out but the Mandalorian yanked you back barking something out in Mando’a. “I wasn’t gonna run out there yet! I was trying to see if there was a path I could use to get to her.”

“I will lay cover fire and you will use that time to get to the girl. Do not,” He emphasized the command, “Leave that spot until I come to you.” You nodded once, but he did not budge. “Speak. Do you understand me, wero’ika?”

“Yes! Yes, alright!”

The Mandalorian grunted once in approval then he stepped out of the alley. The black turrent he was holding open fire and the red bolts leaving it rapidly was a sight to behold. So shocked by the weapon’s range of destruction you paused until he barked out at you. Elodie. Right. You sprinted out of the alley and made a beeline for her hiding spot. The Mandalorian was firing to your right, where the pirates stood, but to your left was a wall of Mandalorians. At least three of them. Had Din brought an army of his kind?

You slid to your knees beside Elodie, setting the blaster down, and wrapped your arms around her. She screamed and squirmed, but you held on tight. “Elodie! Sweetie! It’s me! You’re safe!” You yelled over the loud blaster fire. “You’re alright!”

Her wide eyes, filled to the brim with watery fear, landed on your face and she began buried her face in your chest with sobs. Elodie’s injured arm was still wrapped up with the splint but blood was seeping through the bandage once more. You could barely understand her through her cries.

“Ms. Wynn⏤ She⏤ We⏤”

“I know, sweetie. You’re okay.” You tried to reassure her even as your stomach flipped at the mention of her teacher’s name. “Come on.” You scooped her up into your arms and she wrapped her right arm around your neck in a death grip. “Keep your head down, Elodie. Alright? Don’t look up. Just close your eyes and keep your head down.”

You felt her nod against your shoulder and shifted so you’d be crouched down, out of range, but ready to go when the Mandalorian got to you. Big Blue, as you were so kindly referring to him in your head, was still firing at the pirates but was making steady steps in your direction. The other Mandalorians continued to drift up to add to his onslaught and when they stepped side by side with him, Big Blue peeled off to rush to you.

“Up!” He grunted, and you didn’t hesitate to listen to him then. With Elodie in your arms, you rose up and Big Blue spun you around to march toward the city’s edge and away from the battle. He kept his body pressed close to your back and every once in a while you’d hear him grunt as blaster fire pinged off his beskar.

The three of you shifted around a mess of debris when suddenly a pirate jumped into your path. Big Blue reacted quicker than you did and he spun the both of you around so his back was acting as a shield once more. You fell to your ass, with him draped over you in protection, as the pirate rained blaster fire onto the man. On more instinct than thought, you let go of Elodie with one arm to grab the blaster tucked in Big Blue’s holster and after flicking off the safety you rapidly pulled the trigger blindly. It took multiple bolts before you heard the pirate cry out in pain and the attack ended. Big Blue glanced over his shoulder and once pleased with what he saw he shifted off of you.

“Mirdala, wero’ika.” Big Blue grunted with a nod of approval. You held his gun out to him which he took and re-holstered then he reached down to bring you back onto your feet. The sound of an explosion made you both jump in alarm, but it came from the Corsair overhead. You watched in shock as the smoking vehicle began to careen into the side of the mountain Nevarro City was nestled against and go up into fire and ash. “Come.” Big Blue pulled you to his side to try and get you moving again. “We still need to get you both to safety.”

As Big Blue guided you through the streets and the sight of the lava plains came into view, a breath of weary relief left you. The Mandalorian next to you caught you off guard by setting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a small squeeze.

The fight was over. Your brain supplied familiar words that Din had said to you once before.

The danger has passed.

Din was frantic. After landing the N1, and leaving a crying Grogu with Peli, he began to rush through the throngs of civilians looking for a familiar face. Looking for your face. As the seconds ticked by fear gripped him tighter and tighter. What if he had been too late? What if you were still in the city? Shoving past people, more roughly than he probably should have, he finally spotted someone who could point him in the right direction.

“Vanth!” Din barked and rushed to where the man was seated on a makeshift cot. He looked worse for wear. One arm was wrapped in a sling and dried blood was splattered in his hair on the right side of his head where a line of staples held together an ugly gash.

Vanth’s bloodshot eyes glanced up and at the sight of Din he shakily rose. “Hey, brother. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Are you alright?” Din asked and after Vanth nodded, in the same breath, he added, “Where is she?”

Din didn’t need to clarify who. Vanth swallowed roughly and let out a haggard sigh, “I don’t know, Mando.” His blood ran cold. “Last I heard, Mayfeld is on the search for her. I got put out of commission pretty early in the fight.” Vanth winced with every breath and word spoken. “Little doc junior, Aayla, has been patching everyone up best she can since…”

Since you were missing.

“The fight is over now. Anybody hiding in the city will start coming out.” Vanth tried to reassure him but it fell on deaf ears. “Mando⏤”

“Sit. Rest.” Din carefully pushed Vanth back onto the cot before moving on.

He’d scour the entire city if he had to. Din would tear down any remaining buildings left standing if it meant finding you. This was what he did, right? He hunted. His rushed steps were nothing like the calm and collected image he tried to uphold as he hurried towards the city. All his worst fears seemed to be crumbling down on him and the beskar he wore felt suffocating. Din pushed out of the crowd, nearly broke out into a sprint, when he hard your voice. Faint. It really made no sense that he’d even be able to hear it over the lively crowd and the pounding of his heart in his ears.

However, as if drawn to it, his feet came to a stop and he turned. There you were. The parents of Grogu’s friend from school were sobbing hysterically as they held a little girl in their arms. You stood right in front of them with Paz a step behind you. It was an odd sight that left Din with more questions than answers, but all his mind could focus on was you. The rest of the world may as well have grown blurry and dim.

You were in a pair of your scrubs but they were dirty and torn. Dried blood stained the front and sides. Your hair was a mess and even from the distance he was at, he could see the exhaustion radiating from your frame. Din was moving before his mind was even aware of his body’s choice. It was you. You were right there. You were standing. You were breathing. You were safe. Maker, Din felt his heart leap up into his throat as he struggled for a gasp of relief.

Din couldn’t find his voice to cry out to you, but as if you were drawn to him as well you turned and met his gaze. His feet stuttered at the sight. Dried blood covered your features, mixed with dust and soot, and there was a wound on your hairline he could see clearly. The skin around your neck was darkened with bruising. You looked like you were in shambles, but that fire he loved still remained in your gaze. Your pretty eyes burned with life and energy and determination.

“Din!” You cried and he didn’t even register the fact that you called out his name in public. He was too thankful to hear it in your voice once more. You broke out into a sprint, to meet him halfway, and as soon as you were close enough Din snatched you into his arms in a bruising grip. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as your face buried into his shoulder and if Din wasn’t so worried about jarring any of your current injuries he would’ve crushed you even tighter in his hold. “Din, I⏤ Din. Din.” Your body shook with sobs as you struggled to find words. For a beat all that could spill out was his name, but every time the sound left your lips Din felt the tight coil of fear in his chest loosen. “You’re here.”

“I am. I am, ner kar’ta, and I’m never leaving again.” He murmured to you. A promise. Din’s gloved hand buried itself in the back of your hair to pull you even closer. It took all of his strength to not rip his helmet off right now. Redemption be damned. “Ni ceta, ner kar’ta. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I should have been here.”

The only reason he was able to tear himself away from you was to examine your wounds. The injury at your hairline had scabbed over and it seemed the only other injury you had were the faint bruising around your neck. It would worsen before it got better and it was not lost on Din that the darker shade was in the shape of a hand.

“Who?” The word left his lips in a near growl. Din cupped your face and tried to swipe away tears, dried blood, and soot. His hand trailed down to lightly brush against your neck. “Who did this?”

“One of the⏤ One of the pirates. It’s a long story, I⏤” You took in a shaky breath and Din could see how close you were to crumbling. “He’s dead. I… I shot him. With the blaster I keep in my desk. I shot him.” Good. Din could see the heartbreak in your eyes, the pain, and he hated more than anything that responsibility had fallen onto your shoulders. That you had been forced into that position. Truly, you had done the pirate a favor⏤ shown him mercy. Because if he were still breathing, Din would tear the bastard apart limb from limb. “I lost your blaster. I’m so sorry⏤”

“Don’t. Stop.” Din leaned his head down to press his forehead against yours. He took in a slow breath. You were here. You were safe. You were in his arms. Din’s heart finally began to calm. “All that matters is you.”

Your hands had found his neck and the way your fingers dug through his collar told him that you were as desperate as he was for skin to skin contact. Din just needed to reassure himself that you were fine. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of you to ensure that nothing was wrong. That you were fine. It was a craving not born of lust, but concern.

“Grogu.” You breathed out in a ragged gasp. “Where’s Grogu? I need to see him. I need⏤” Din’s eyes darted over your shoulder where Elodie’s parents were still smothering their child. Something had happened in the city, you had obviously saved that girl in some way, and Din knew your desperation to see Grogu had something to do with that. “Din?”

“He’s alright. He’s safe.” Din wrapped his arm around you tightly, not willing to let go quite yet, and began to lead you back through the crowd to find where Peli was. People called out comments of relief and comfort to you as he led you through. It seemed he hadn't been the only one worried about you.

The sound of Grogu’s cries could be heard and you rushed out of Din’s arms to find the source, “Grogu!?” Din paused as he spotted Peli holding the boy as you rushed toward them. Grogu’s cries were halted and replaced with panicked wailing as he squirmed out of Peli’s arms to jump into yours. You collapsed to the ground with the boy buried in your chest. “Hey, baby. I’m here. I was so worried about you.”

Grogu continued to cry as you whispered reassurances to him. A small smile pulled up the corner of Din’s lips. For the first time in hours, he felt his shoulders relax. He took a step forward, to join his family, when familiar steps settled beside him. Paz crossed his arms and watched the reunion between you and Grogu as well.

“She saved that little girl.” Paz spoke with a hum. “She’s brave. Reckless, but brave.”

“I know.” Din replied, beaming with pride. Everything he had said to the Armorer had been true. You may not have taken the oath, walked the Way, or adorned a helmet, but you were Mandalorian through and through. It was in your spirit and soul.

Paz nodded. “That is the one you spoke of? The woman you plan to court?”

“Yes.” Din didn’t add that you were the woman he planned to marry as well. It didn’t need to be said now or like this. Just knowing was enough for him.

“But you have yet to present her with a token of intention?”

“Not…yet.” Din turned his head to look at his brother with suspicion. .

“Hm. Perhaps, I’ll offer her a token first.” Paz chuckled. Din barked out a curse and it only made Paz laugh harder. You had risen from the ground and glanced over at the noise. Paz slapped his hand roughly against Din’s back, making him stumble, and then gave you a firm nod. “Good work, wero’ika. I was proud to share the battlefield with you.”

Din continued to glare at Paz’s retreating figure, but at the sound of your approach his gaze softened. You were still holding Grogu close to your chest as if you were afraid someone would come and snatch him away. Din understood the irrational fear. It was why as soon as you were in reach he pulled you and Grogu into his own arms. With another sigh, Din let his eyes flutter close as he rested his head on top of yours while you leaned into his chest. You were safe. His family was back together.

What more could he ask for?

mando'a translations

Ni ceta: I'm sorry Mirdala: clever Wero'ika: little problem Ner kar'ta: my heart

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilraa @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis @javicstories @ezzynf @bravotwelve @cookielovesbook-akie @coolbanana44 @kittenlittle24

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #a fresh start #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #mando #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #female reader

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theravencawsatmidnight · 3 months ago

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All Mine

For @lilbluebastard

W! Blood death.

Little yandere for you i hope you enjoy! Been awhile since i did the topic but i enjoyed it!

It started with harmless flirting in the trials, getting caught on purpose, stumbling into his arms, hiding in places he knew you would be so he could pull you out and embrace you. Sure Coyle was a Prime but he seemed different.. A soft side only you saw. So one night during a trial when hes chasing you you decided to tell him how you feel, and hes over joyed. Immediately he tells you to stay here, with him. It did not sink in with you then that you would be staying in a dark dimly lit room for the rest of your life at that moment…

Days went on and Coyle was everything you wanted him to be, the little neck bites before he left, the surprise rear grabs when he returned, the happy smile you gave him each time when you realized he was back. There were times though, when you would venture too far out of the room and Coyle would yell dragging you back. “Not safe sweetness” was all he would say before locking the door to leave you in there for who knows how long. You shrugged it off, he is just looking out for you after all right?

One night you were very lonely without him, he was taking a little longer to come back and it worried you. ‘Just be quick’ you thought to yourself as you got up from your little space in a corner to go to the door slowly opening it. Nothing but darkness. He cant be too far. You heard some yelling coming from down the hall deciding to follow it. The closer you got the more concerned you were, your heart racing in your chest, your shaking fingers that traced the cold tile walls with each step. Turning a corner you peeked in only to get wide eyes at what you saw: Coyle… stepping on a regents face just to shove his electric prod into it after, the smile on his face sent shivers all around your skin.. The blood flying everywhere only made it worse.

“Coyle…….”

The man looked up and over seeing you hiding behind the door staring at him with fear in your eyes. “Sweetness” he said in a heavy breath. You turned away running as fast as you could looking for any place to hide, every room was locked except for the one you had been staying in, you rushed back into your corner sinking to your feet with your arms around yourself. Each heavy foot step felt like it was beating along with your heart till they stopped at the door, the light from the man's smoke shining bright with each heavy breath Coyle took. He stepped in, slamming the door shut behind him , something else hit the door as well but you could not make out what it was

“Sweetness” he stepped closer watching you get as far in the corner as you could. “Sweetness that regent wanted to take you away.” closer. “I cant … let that happen, your mine “ closer. Something hit the floor in front of you making you scream at the contents: it was a bucket of bloody body parts, arms, legs, hands, fingers. “I had to do it, I'm sure it scares you and that deeply saddens me. but , listen,” Coyle reached his hand out to stroke your cheek slowly with his thumb. “If those Primes find ya they will hurt ya bad, so bad that they would not stop till you stopped moving. And that regent? He was gonna tell em where ya was” he titled his head at you moving closer. “Ya understand?” Coyle kissed your head sweetly. “I cant let that happen, thats why i lock the doors, so they cant get in here and hurt ya”

“They… would…?”

“Yes sweetness. Its safe here with me and only me, ya dont need anyone else”

You embraced him, still feeling guilty, was this right? Was this the correct choice? You did not want to die, and Coyle would never hurt you. So maybe it was… but little did you know that the real reason Coyle restricted your movements was because everyone was dead, the regents, the primes. Everyone. You did not need anyone else. Only him.

#leland coyle #leland coyle x reader #yandere coyle #the outlast trials

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satrs · 9 months ago

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#partnerlook @toji.fushiguro

A/N; HEY HEY HELLO HEY LOVES! I’m BACK! Well, partially. I’ll update some time when I manage to so, I BEG you to be patient with me this will probably suck ass but whateva, I'm a bit rusted from the long break

Plus, DIDN’T AND COULD NEVAAAAA FORGET ABOUT U GUYSSS MUCH MUCH LOVE AND KISSES MWAH <3

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT. petnames: baby, ma, my girl. naaaastyyyyy. Kinda hand kink? doggy. pwp.

WK; 1.1K.

The whole idea of the whole partner look thing started off innocent, with small little changes.

At first, it would be just for fun, successfully convincing Toji to match the color of your outfits when you would go out on dates.

Those things would slowly progress into more - same shoes, jewelry, head-to-toe almost identical outfits and at last - tattoos.

Of course, couple tattoos are quite controversial with all the ‘what if’s’ surrounding them, with many people having their eyes knitted, uncertain about the whole ordeal, with Toji being one of them.

It took him some, well, a lot of convincing, but all it took were a couple of pleading puppy eyes and pouty lips to drag his feet right into the trap he never excepted to fall into.

“You serious about this, ma?” His question was rather rhetorical, giving his position, seated in the chair in front of the tattoo artist, buzzing machine in hand.

You only hum in return, agreeing with an excited glint in your eyes, adrenaline rushing through every inch of your body as you inspect the pre-written masterpiece at your lower back in the mirror. “So serious.” You could barely bite back your grin, thinking of the finished product and how your boyfriend would react.

And it sure was a reaction.

You wouldn’t even make it out of the car, his eagerness impossible to tame as he guides you to the backseats, throwing you onto his lap with your back facing him, the raging boner in his pants hurting to be buried into your welcoming cunt.

“Fuckkkk, baby. Shoulda’ knocked this into me sooner.” A deep groan echoed through the room, causing you to clench down onto his shaft.

You whine in return at the way he was stretching your walls in an almost ridiculous way, followed by a high-pitched gasp as you feel his rough hands caress the dark ink adoring your sweaty skin, the letters forming the name ‘Toji’ in the most beautiful font imaginable.

This alone had him snap his hips up into you, robbing a loud cry from you in the process. “C-careful, Toji!”, you babble, hand trying to hold onto his, accidentally grabbing the arm where the dark, vibrant ink adored his skin.

He slapped your hand way, clicking his tongue at the process. “Huh, want me to kiss it better?” He snickers, an inked arm snaking its way around your body to play with your plumb clit, giving it a teasing smack.

Your eyes wander down, a moan flying past your lips at the sight of your name on his lower arm, lightly ranking its way down to his beefy hand.

You feel his sharp fangs attack your neck, soon replaced by apologetic wet kisses.

Your head was spinning, unable to make out on what to focus - his girthy cock bumping into your sweet spot repeatedly, or the way your name so perfectly fitted onto his beefy arm.

“Nah. Gotta get a clear view on this.” His other hand forced your upper body to the front so nothing hindered him from obsessively gawking over the piece of art on your lower back.

Oh, he couldn’t wait till it healed completely, so he could finally get a little rougher on you.

“T-tojiiii” you protest to his antics, only to be caught in surprise by him throwing you on all fours, swiftly aligning his angry red tip to your gasping hole.

A bright smirk adores his face, scar crinkling in the process as he pushes your head into the leather seats, the different angle now providing him with the best view imaginable.

His hand comes down, ripping your flesh at impact, leaving a bright red print of his hand on your rear, earning a scream from you in return. "Hm, why not tattoo that shit on yer cheeks-" His hand made contact with your skin again at his teasing remark, your upper body slumping down into the seats with a cry, "-Whaddya' say?"

You nod eagerly, mind drunken in the pleasure you're receiving. The only thing that you could think about was the ringing in your ears with each smack of his hips against your ass. His balls slap against you aching clit, adding to the pleasure, causing your mouth to hang open, eyes rolling to the far back of your skull.

"Fuck, gonna cum, huh? Can fell your slutty cunt tryna suck me dry", he grunts, increasing the speed of his hips, hissing from your continuous clenching.

His hand reached for your throat, pushing you up against his back, careful not to hit your head against the roof. You moan, eyes flickering down to the hand around your throat, big orbs staying glued to the black shade on his skin, humping your hips against his to chase your incoming high.

"Mhm- fuck! m' so close, Toji! sososo close!", you mewl, earning a sharp thrust, followed by a deep grunt from the raven haired man. "Tatt s' gettin' my girl so worked up?" He slowed down his thrust to let his eyes trail down your back, orbs latching back onto the body art that decorated your shiny skin. "Can't lie, that shit s' gonna make me burst too." With one more thrust, your cunt clenches down onto him, robbing a groan from his lips. Your juices splash onto his pelvis as your legs gave out on you, the hand around your neck holding your back from falling flat onto your stomach.

"jusss' like that, baby, shittttt- gonna cum too. Gonna bust all over that pretty tattoo, yeah?" His hand loosened around your neck, causing your upper body to fall down. Both hands back on your hips, drilling his throbbing cock into your abused cunt, threatening to burst any second.

"Yeahhh, gonna paint it all over, fuckkk." He swiftly pulled out, causing you to softly whine at the loss. Impatiently pumping his cock in fast motion before spurting his cum all over your back, white semen covering up most of the black tint on your lower back.

A chuckle rang your ear as you took deep breaths, turning your head to come face to face with his menacing grin, eyes glued to your back. "Look at that."

You propped yourself onto your arms, adoring the view on your back with your lower lip between your teeth, shacking your behind in a teasing manner.

A giggle rang through the air at the harsh smack against your ass, your eyes following the inked arm up to the culprits face. The man grinned down at you, canines showing, teasingly tapping his cock head onto your ass, before spreading your cheeks with his length, retrieving it right after.

"m' still sensitive, Toji-" but before you could finish your sentence, he already threw you onto his lap, fingers teasing your gasping hole, ignoring the sticky fluid against his pelvic and his already hard cock.

"Nuh uh. Gotta match mine with yours now."

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lostonehero · 5 months ago

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I'm late to mermay, but well, uh, no excuses have Siren! Martin doing such a great job in the archives.

Tim loved going to the ocean. He loved the water in general, and when Danny was still with him, he would try and fail to convince him to try to go with him during the winter. Danny always quoted old legends, but Tim didn't believe in them. Well, he does now, but that's besides the point.

The reason Tim believes is the 6ft5inch man in his apartment who is technically his husband or mate in his words. Of course, this happened years ago he's now a much more jaded man. He works for the insistute now trying to get answers for his brother, and somehow, his husband works there too. He really doesn't understand how he lied about everything on his CV.

"Tim?" A male voice pulls Tim out of his thoughts. "Should I wear this one or this one? We work together now in the archives, and you don't want me to match you."

"The blue one is fine, Martin." Tim smiles softly. Martin wasn't human, and he's honestly surprised nobody has figured it out. He's also grateful for the face that he's his husband, even if he keeps it secret.

"Are you sure? You want our mate bond to be kept secret. I don't know if they can smell it.... I should wear one from the dryer." Martin sighs.

Tim chuckles. "Just because I wore that to bed doesn't mean you can't wear it. We humans don't have the same abilities as you guys."

"Yeah, but I don't know if everyone there is human." Martin huffs.

They have this argument about once a week, which is fine. It's better than the raw meat debate. Tim smiles softly. "Alright, alright, won't wear your jumpers anymore."

Martin huffs. "I didn't say that! You always do this."

Tim chuckles. "Maybe I like seeing you riled up. Seriously though, it's fine as long as we don't arrive at the same time." They've been together years at this point, so they both know when they are joking.

"I know the drill, Tim." Martin sighs. "Can we share the same bed tonight?"

"I'm not sleeping in the tub with you again it took weeks for my skin to heal, and before you suggest it no I'm not going in the ocean either we were both incredibly late to work." Tim raised his brow and pauses. "Oh wait, you meant my bed."

Martin rolls his eyes. "Forget I asked."

"No, wait, yes." Tim moves closer to Martin. "Then I don't have to wear things that smell like you."

Martin smiles. "You're already my mate. You do not need to scent yourself of me."

"What if I want to?"

"I suppose that can be arranged."

......

Sasha rolled her chair closer to Tim. "So Jon totally has a crush on Martin. I was talking to his ex, and she totally agrees. How about a wager? I mean, Martin is totally into him. Have you seen how aggressive he is about taking care of Jon?"

Tim chokes on his tea. "W-what?" He wipes off the mess the best he could. "Sasha, he's that way to everyone."

"Not you, and nowhere near that way to me or anyone else in this building. Besides, the timing is perfect. We have that mandatory institute day out on the beach. Sure, we're picking up trash and sending flyers out about the institute, but there's also games and food. We can totally set them up." Sasha claps her hands together with a smile on her lips.

"No." Tim could feel that green eyed monster rear its ugly head. Danny always made fun of him because he insisted he felt nothing of their marriage. Danny was right, of course. He was about to out them, and he had to think of something. "No, I mean well, what are the stakes? Is Jon's ex going to be there?"

"Oooo, that could be even better." Sasha smirks. "She can help us, and she is bringing her girlfriend. Tim you're a genius."

Tim gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

......

Sasha pushed Martin and Jon together. "You two can start at one end, and Tim and I will start at the other. Then we'll meet up and get some American fair food they have."

Jon raised a brow. He was in a binder with a loose tank top above it and a pair of shorts. He was also in boots and long socks. "Ok? I don't understand why Elias has this to be mandatory."

Martin looked like he was about to growl and hiss. They were so close to the ocean that the instincts to take his mate to the ocean screamed at him. "Yeah, it's an odd choice."

Tim grits his teeth as Sasha pulls him away. He was still mostly human, well it was slowly changing but he was still mostly human but even he could feel the pull of the ocean he can't imagine how Martin feels.

......

Jon rubs his brow as he looks over to Martin, who is carrying about six full bags of trash without breaking a sweat. It was impressive and kind of depressing that there's that much trash. "Martin, we can stop and drop those off, we have a ways to go."

"Why?" Martin tilted his head in a way that Jon thought was adorable.

"Isn't it heavy?" Jon sighs he only had two half full bags since Martin keeps taking the full ones away from him.

"No, not really. Are you alright? Do you need more sunscreen? We are nearly done with our side." Martin puts the bags down and takes out a bottle of sunblock.

"I'm dark skinned Martin I don't need that much." Jon, let's out a noise of surprise since Martin already started to put on a fresh layer.

"Dark skin still burns." Martin is quick but thurough. "It's better to be safe."

Jon blushes a deep red. "I uh right, of course. Let us continue. We're almost done."

.....

Sasha and Tim waved from the start of the stands. "Took you guys long enough!" Sasha laughs.

Jon frowns. "Martin insisted I drink some water and put on another layer of sunscreen. However, we did collect the most trash."

Martin nods. "Yes! We found a big pile someone buried under the sand. Also your health is important."

Tim looked between them, and something clicked. The green eyed beast was dead, and Martin was treating Jon like a pod member who couldn't care for themselves. He did this before with Danny when he was really into extreme sports. He felt the tension drain from his shoulders. "How about some weird American food? Heard double boss man got some cool stuff like pickled lemonade, and fried oreos."

"Good lord, that sounds like a heart attack." Jon scoffs.

"I would like to try that. Sounds like a perfect hangover cure." Sasha chuckles.

.......

Martin somehow ended up on a cliffside. He loved watching the waves from this high up, Tim was behind him talking to Jon's ex, um Georgie was her name. It was very nice and he really wanted to jump.

"Pretty view." A old man was next to him. His white hair was wind swept back. "You can get lost in just how vast it is."

Martin nodded, not realizing he was moving forward until he was tumbling over the edge. Well, he wanted to do this anyway.

Tim did a double take before he started to run. "MARTIN!" He went over the edge as well, and he could swear he heard an old man laughing.

Georgie and Sasha ran to the edge. They saw Tim hanging on grabbing Martin on a ledge.

"Holy shit are you two ok?" Sasha stared down at them wide-eyed.

Tim huffs. "I know you're making that face. I'm not dropping you." He did not hear Sasha, but she can hear the two men.

"But Tim, the ocean! Pleaseeeee I wanna go with you." Martin huffs.

"No, Martin, you're going to out us!" Tim groans his grip was strong but not enough for their combined weight. "Grab onto a ledge! Use your damn claws."

"I will bite you." Martin holds his hand out and then slams it into the side of the cliff and lets go of Tim. "You owe me!"

"We can go swimming when it won't out us." Tim rolls his eyes and adjusts his grip with both hands. "Now focus, we need a way back up."

"I'm not helping you." Martin sticks his tongue out and climbs the clifside like he was a lizard and stops above Tim. "You're also banned until I see fit from taking my clothes."

"Seriously? We're literally hanging from a cliff." Tim huffs.

"You are. I am climbing." Martin kicks off his shoes then his socks. "Last chance."

Tim looks up at the two women staring at them, and of course, they see Martin sink his claws into stone. "Fine. Not because I want to, but because Sasha and Georgie already saw you sink your hands into the cliffside." He lets go of the cliffside and falls with his arms crossed.

Martin follows in a diving position.

Sasha and Georgie screamed.

......

"Now, Sasha, let's not be hasty." Elias hums, walking by the bottom of the cliffside. "You also said Martin pushed his hands into the cliffside."

"I'm sorry, Sasha, but he's right." Georgie frowns. "I believe in the weird, but that's like impossible, and to fall at that height."

"Well, I hope the supernatural exists." Jon mumbles. "They could survive the fall right?"

"Not likely, water becomes -" Elias is cut off by laughter.

"Martin! Bloody hell!" Tim said through laughter.

Martin was carrying Tim. They were walking out of the waves. "Oh, I love cliff diving. We should do that again!"

The four people stared at the two with jaws open.

#the magnus archives #tma #martim #martin blackwood #tim stoker

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piracytheorist · 1 year ago

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Spy x Family Episode 27 thoughts!

We start with something very relatable

I love how the family just lets Bond lie on the couch. He takes up the entire space with how massive he is, and yet they allow him that. I love it.

I pretty much immediately read the respective manga chapter of this after I was done, and I've gotta say, before that I was very confused with what Bond was imagining. I don't think that the anime showed clearly what was going on.

Instead, I actually understood it when I read the manga, which made it pretty clear that he was confused by seeing only black in his vision, and then was trying to come up with ideas why this would happen.

Even as I rewatch the episode, I still think it wasn't made clear in the anime.

I love, however, how Bond could imagine that, for whatever reason, Yor would blindfold him in order to surprise him with something. And the way she would lead him there is adorable XD

A lot of adorableness in this episode in general, but then you hit right in the drama.

Like any research facility escapee, Bond fears he'll be found by the people who experimented on him and will be immediately executed. But...

THIS REALLY HAD NO BUSINESS BEING THIS FUNNY. Bond was right there getting traumatized and fearing for his life and I was actually laughing my ass off. The little butt-naked angels! Bond having a halo over his head! The drama of it all! I love it XD

Then I nearly damn cried when he went to look at the family pictures and THE FAMILY THEME PLAYED. MA BOI JUST WANTS A FAMILY 😭😭

I also love how he imagined Loid saying he lived happily. Bond has indeed found a place that makes him feel loved and safe and happy, and he knows that the family knows that. And the way he imagined Loid tearing up for him and understanding what a positive influence this family was on him is very important; Bond's mind may be simple than his human family's, but maybe exactly because of that he sees past the façades and the lies, and into his humans' souls.

And then he just resorts to the fact that he will die, and wants to go say goodbye 😢

I just realized that Bond understands Anya can read his mind! And only Anya. I don't know why it took me so long. Perhaps I had understood it but it never registered, lol

Gremlin Anya my beloved <3

Unless it was a new moon that day, it's amazing how focused Anya was on studying. Here was Bond with a face that practically said "Do the cool thing and read my mind!" and Anya was like "Nope. Homework." I immediately imagined it was a new moon day and she actually couldn't read his mind, but it may be a safe assumption that she's learning to control her power? Idk.

But then Bond sees that Yor will make an absolute horror of a dinner for him.

How is she so out of it that she doesn't realize the monstrosities she's creating. I love her.

I'm still trying to piece things together, though. There's a clear difference in visual between reality, vision, and Bond's imagination.

Bond thinks that he'll die by eating Yor's food; it's not a certain future.

This doesn't explain the black in Bond's vision, though. It could be a red herring, idk.

In any case, he takes Anya's words from their first days together very seriously, so he doesn't even attempt to say no to Yor's food.

And though we know Yor is way too sweet to even shout or give a stern look to someone because they disobeyed or made a mess, it also makes sense for Bond to immediately consider his mistake will be met with violence. He spent a significant amount of time of his adult dog life in the research lab, where the scientists abused him, hurt him and belittled him. Having trouble trusting a new environment is typical abuse victim behaviour. So even though he feels loved and protected there, his trauma can still rear its ugly head whenever disobedience is involved.

And so Bond finds the solution. Help Loid come home earlier from work so that he can cook food for him!

For all his intelligence, Bond's perception of "humans working" is still stuck on the times of when humans first domesticated dogs. He's like "human put spiky rock on wood and then hunt". How does one explain red tape and politics to a dog, either way XD

This screenshot has everything. Wild savanna background. Loid hunting with a prehistoric spear, all in his fancy suit and WISE pin getup. Heteronormative pigs. Comic sans font. 10/10

Bond runs out of the house and I immediately wondered why Yor didn't immediately run after him, before I remembered that she couldn't leave Anya home alone.

And thus, Bond's adventure in Berlint begins!

The hot dog vendor called Bond a stray and I'm like wow, stray dogs in Berlint must be in excellent shape if people see a dog with a massive white fur that's clean and smooth and don't immediately assume he lives in a house with two clean freaks.

Once again, the art style here is clearly showing that this is in Bond's imagination, which is more influenced by his traumatic experience in the lab than his actual experience with the Forgers. I almost felt it was unfair how Yor was portrayed in his imagination!

I felt so sad for him in the bridge! Boy just wanted some food that wouldn't kill him 🥺 and then I laughed my ass off.

What an absolute unit this dog is!

His adventures continue until he finally catches a whiff of Loid's scent and he's off to help his human!

And we have a truth serum in the world! That could be an awesome opportunity of a Chekhov's Gun! While in general the spy things happening seem to be rooted in the real world, Endo also takes the James Bond route sometimes and I would really like to see if that stuff actually has an impact in the story later on.

(As usual, I'm anime only, so don't spoil me for later developments in the manga!)

Bond finds his human, relieved he'll be given safe food tonight!

Bond starts leading Twilight down a clear path and I'm very, VERY interested by how Twilight reaches the conclusion that Bond wants revenge on the scientists who abused him.

And if you ask me, in the manga his expression looks even more sympathetic. Look at that worried brow there.

At least the anime didn't rob us of blushing Twilight this time *grumble grumble*

Bond doesn't understand one bit of what Twilight is saying, though. He just wants food.

It's classic Forger family misunderstanding and jumping to conclusions, but I feel it says a TON about Twilight's character, not only that he considered Bond would want revenge for how he (and the other dogs!) was abused, but also that he honoured that supposed wish of Bond and didn't try to change his mind. I mean, it also helped him in his mission, but this time "For the MissionTM" wasn't in his mind at all, at least regarding Bond.

I think it's the first time that this happens? That he brushes his "for the mission" aside and focuses on what his family wants - at least, consciously. He's been doing that from day one but I think this is the first time that he does it knowingly. It also helps that he knows Bond would never be able to report him as a spy so he doesn't mind being a little more open with him. Wow. It's amazing in how many ways this family gives this man opportunity to reach back into his emotions and self.

Anyway, yeah. I think it says a lot about how sympathetic Twilight is, how much he values justice and feelings of vindication, and also how he believes that Bond wanted revenge not only for himself, but for his fellow dogs too. And of course, how he then helped him get his supposed "revenge".

I mean, it's one of the few logical conclusions he can make with his limited intel at that moment, but still I find it interesting and very telling that this is the conclusion he settled on.

Again, Bond doesn't understand a word but he settles on a positive borf since that will make Twilight finally move his ass so he can finish early and come back home and cook for him.

BOI HUNGY

Twilight behind him like "But what about your revenge?!!"

Another small difference between manga and anime, as in the manga Twilight looks actually distressed about getting home late. In the anime he's just... "eh".

Like, make up your mind guys. Is he more emotional in the anime or no?

I'm using my Sundays in a very productive manner, you see, dunking on overworked and underpayed animators.

Bond has his vision of the staff coming back and Twilight saying he'll be late, and we see angry Yor in, once again, the "imagination" style.

This is not the real Yor. This is the Yor traumatized Bond makes up.

Maybe, in a way, he doesn't understand that Yor's horrible cooking is 100% unintentional. When we see his flashbacks in episode 15, the people there threw some horrible-looking mush at him to eat and told him to be thankful for it, too. So he probably correlates food of bad quality with bad intentions, so it could be a reason why he imagines Yor being so cruel to him.

This. Was. Hilarious. I don't know if it's Anya's influence on him, but it was amazing to see him do something that a hardened spy like him would consider childish and yet be so effective in what he wanted to do 😂 Also, boy doesn't even try to hide? T. as in Twilight/Tasogare? How is this man a spy I swear to god

Action! Bond beating the shit out of the bad guys! Loved it!

Despite the very serious implications of a truth serum being developed and used, we don't get to see Twilight's thoughts about it. Truth serums, if effective, could be detrimental for people like him, especially when fallen into the wrong hands. Of course, simply destroying their samples wouldn't do, as they could simply make more, so he doesn't bother with more than just one vial needed for WISE's analysts. I wonder if we'll get to see more of that in the future.

Bond's vision clears, and he gets to see the real way Yor would react.

This warmed my heart no joke 🥺

Anya looks very curious in the background, and I wonder if that's her face as she reads into Bond's mind, or if she's curious exactly because it's a new moon and she can't read his mind and is trying to imagine what could have happened. I need to know!!

(I don't. Don't spoil me if it's revealed - though I doubt there's that much more to be revealed about this chapter XD)

This man really invested in Bond's revenge huh. He just made it up in his mind and then went like "He got his revenge! I'm so happy for him!" Whatever floats your boat, dude.

Speaking of floating boats...

I don't have that much to say about the second part of the episode, other than a couple parts here and there.

I'm still not even close to liking Damian but I cannot imagine the kind of emotional abuse this six-year-old must have gone through to hear "do not shame your family" and take it as fucking praise, my GOD. I don't like the kid and I'd be a lousy parent but even I would treat him better than that.

As I've said before, there's a lot of personal trauma that rises to the surface whenever Damian is involved - especially after seeing how some fans tend to completely dismiss how much of a bully he is - and I was actually dreading this part, but it managed to hit some good spots. His friendship with Ewen and Emile still needs work, but the way they purposefully threw away their free day and angered Henderson - who by the way, got their intentions from the first moment and was like are you serious - all because they didn't want Damian to be alone was really heartwarming. If they caught Henderson in a bad day they could easily risk a Tonitrus, and I think that's something Damian will have to appreciate at some point. Maybe not immediately, but he'll get there. What this boy needs is not to be tapped in the back and told "Your trauma justifies bullying the girl you have special feelings for", but to be told he's valued as a person and not for how much he fulfills his father's expectations.

Mr. Green is a SUPER interesting guy!! He's funny and down to earth and sympathetic and he gave this parched anime-only some political commentary finally MY GOD

DEFECTING TO THE WEST YOU SAY

The fact that defecting has taken a code name speaks to how much of a common yet covert practice it is. The boys immediately fear that they will be sold off to Westalis, same way George Glooman feared that when he thought his dad's company had gone bankrupt. Then they ask why someone would even leave Ostania and Mr. Green is like "Well we have a beautiful night sky!" I don't know if he was being sarcastic, but I absolutely love how we got that insight into how deep nationalistic propaganda runs in Ostania, especially from the point of view of three innocent, very privileged but also sheltered kids.

"Why would someone flee" well for starters there's this thing called surveillance--

The lake was indeed beautiful!

So beautiful it even touched Damian and not only had him break through his very disciplined upraising and he admitted he is enjoying the sight, he also laughed like the kid he is. I gotta admit this touched me.

Look, as I said, I have a lot of personal feelings and traumatic experience that influence the way I see Damian. I don't hate him and I want him to be better... I just feel really uncomfortable whenever people try to act like his bullying isn't that bad, or is justified, or even isn't bullying at all. And no matter my efforts, seeing fans talk about Damian like that has influenced me negatively to the point where I have to consciously try to not hate him. I understand that all of those fans have read the manga and those developments I see now are years-old news to them by now, but I still feel there's a very big space between what I see and what that part of the fandom sees. I don't need to see an episode where Damian relaxes and gets a little in touch with the kid he still is to understand he deserves better. But I also don't think him doing that undoes the emotional damage he inflicts upon Anya. He can be a bully, and he can be a victim, both at the same time. I'm just saying... if you're someone who will jump to his support whenever you hear takes like mine... maybe take a moment to think if you're putting your feelings over a fictional character over the feelings of a real person who is still carrying scars from having been bullied as a kid.

Yeah, that got a little personal, I'm sorry. But I'm not here to make objective analysis and I'm probably the only anime-only here talking about the story in such depth. I just wanted to make my stance clear, that's all.

#Spy x Family #sxf meta #sxf reaction

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bananadrinkxxx · 1 year ago

Text

𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝓵 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝓵 (5)

Give me your loyalty

[Aemond Targaryen x female original Targaryen • fem! oc!reader]

[warnings: sex content, fights, harassment, angst, smut, domination, violence, targcest (uncle/niece)]

Only for 18+

[description: War is going on between the Blacks and the Greens and Aemma Velaryon is brought to Aemond as a prisoner.]

Masterlist for all available parts (click here)

Aemond had not visited her for two days and Aemma was not angry about it.

Neither did she long for his presence nor did she want to be confronted with the fact that she was here at his mercy.

Aemma looked at the door as a woman with black hair entered. You could see that she was a little older, but that had done nothing to her beauty. She smiled as she put the food on the table.

"I'm not hungry," was all Aemma said, turning her head away.

"Refusing to eat is not wise, nor is it punishing the prince. It is, to be honest, the stupidest thing you can do."

Aemma turned around with a raised eyebrow. The strange woman looked at her challengingly, almost arrogantly. "And you are?"

"No one whose name you know. My name is Alys Rivers."

"A bastard?"

Each region of the Empire had its surnames for bastards. Snow for the North, in Crownlands they were called Waters, Sand for Dorne, and in the Riverlands they were called Rivers. And so on.

Alys nodded. "Yes, my father was Lord Lyonel Strong."

Aemma's mouth opened in surprise. If it was true, this rumor that had always haunted her and her brothers and that Aemma herself believed to be true, then Alys was her aunt. She had not known that her father had a bastard sister. Although it was not even a rarity, she had not expected it. A strange feeling, but also an irrelevant one. Just because they were possibly related meant nothing. The best example was Aemond and her.

"You can go Alys," Aemma commanded. "I'll decide when I eat."

Alys nodded. "Prince Aemond has already said you would say that. He also said should that be the case, then I am free to make you eat."

Aemma looked at Alys in irritation. She watched as she took a step backward and knocked on the closed door. Then two men entered. Aemma jumped to her feet.

"What's the meaning of this?"

"Grab her," Alys ordered and the men came up to her and grabbed her. Their hands closed around her arms and held her tight. Aemma cried out and tried to fight back, but they outnumbered her in size, strength and numbers.

"Are you insane?" spat Aemma. "I am Princess Aemma Velaryon, and I command you, release me this instant."

Alys stepped toward her, appraising her, before lunging and slapping Aemma, an unexpected slap. Aemma's face flew to the side and she felt her cheek begin to burn. Stunned, she widened her eyes and looked at Alys, who didn't make a face.

"You are no one here. You have no orders to give. You are a prisoner and that is how you will be treated. Only the kindness of your gracious uncle protects you from death by hanging."

Aemma snorted. She tasted blood in her blood. The cunt had hit her so hard she bit her tongue. "Gracious? Kindness?," Aemma asked mockingly. "Aemond's goodness is worth shit if I rip his head off and give him my dragon to-"

Before Aemma could speak further, Alys slapped her again. "You will address his Grace with respect. And don't you dare threaten him, or I will not spare you."

Aemma laughed in disbelief. Alys reared up in front of her, wanting to scare her, but didn't she know that Aemma was a dragon? She had the dragon's blood in her and also its wrath. Before Alys could react, Aemma gathered the blood in her mouth along with her saliva and spat in her face. Satisfied, she watched as Alys backed away, sullied by Aemma's blood on her face. She stroked it, stunned, and looked at Aemma. Her eyes grew abnormally large.

"You bitch," she screeched, coming at her with her hand raised, this time palm clenched into a fist and ready to have it smashed down into her face. Aemma stuck her face out at her, not afraid of the pain or of Alys but before Aemma felt any pain, Alys was pulled back.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Ser Criston Cole, watching them all with a raised eyebrow, disgust on his face.

"Ser Criston," Alys said, humbled. "The prisoner has behaved disrespectfully."

"To you?" asked Cole with derision in his voice. "You're a servant, she's a princess. I hardly think you are in a position to reprimand her."

Alys looked uncertainly at Aemma and then back again. "But she is a prisoner, an enemy."

"Of royal blood. The prince decides how to deal with her. I can hardly imagine that he has given you permission to chastise her, can he?"

"She has offended the prince!"

"Then it is up to the prince to chastise her, not you, bastard." Ser Criston's voice was cold and thundered over their heads like a thunderstorm. Aemma had not seen him since her visit to King's Landing, since the dispute over Lord Velaryon's succession. He had grown older.

Alys winced and looked at the floor. She bit her lip. Aemma pulled up one corner of her mouth and snorted.

"I ask for your forgiveness," Alys said humbly.

"Rather, ask for my forgiveness," Aemma interjected, "because when I return on my dragon, you will be one of the first to burn."

Alys and Ser Criston looked to Aemma.

Die Männer, jeweils links und rechts von ihr, hielten sie noch fest, ließen ihr keinen Platz zur gegenwähr, doch sie ließ sich davon nicht unterkriegen.

She was Aemma Velaryon of House Targaryen. No matter how much fear she felt, she would never bend. She was not a weakling. She was a dragon.

Alys hateful, Criston without a clearly discernible expression on his face. He surveyed her. It was the same look he had given her as a child. Disdainful and dismissive.

"That's enough for today," Ser Criston ordered without responding to Aemma's words. "The prince is on his way to Harrenhal. Prepare his chambers and a meal."

Criston Cole gestured with his head toward the door. Alys and the men nodded and walked out of the room. Alys gave her one last hateful look, which Aemma gladly returned before disappearing from her sight.

"You should be more careful with your words," Ser Criston said suddenly. "They may be your last."

With that threat, the knight disappeared and Aemma watched him go, biting the door shut behind him. She looked to the food on her table, the steaming soup she was sure Alys had spat in. She would accept nothing from these traitors. She would rather die.

. . . . .

Aemma heard the click first, before she was blinded by light. The sound jolted her from her sleep, making her wince. She reached for the spoon to her unstirred soup and clasped it tightly. It was only a spoon but with a lot of force, it would be able to be used lethally in the right place. She would not let anyone touch her again. She would rather die.

"Princess Aemma, don't be afraid," she heard a feminine voice and an old woman approached her. She looked slightly frail and her face was full of wrinkles. Aemma looked at her suspiciously.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled, revealing her toothless smile. "A friend."

"A friend?"

"Yes of Ser Harwin Strong," the mention of his name made Aemma's heart leap. The memory of him still hurt. "I was his nanny and always loyal to him. And he has always been loyal to you. To your honorable mother. He knew who the true ruler of this realm was."

Hope arose in Aemma.

"You must follow me, I will release you."

Aemma looked at her in irritation. "Where are the guards?" She looked toward the door.

"I mixed something into their food. They are sleeping for a while."

The woman grinned with satisfaction and winked at her. "Come, we don't have much time."

Aemma stood up. The woman tossed her dress to her and Aemma took off her nightgown. She had no problem with the woman seeing her naked. She was used to being seen naked by servants and there was nothing to be ashamed of.

"Can I really trust you?"

"I guess the only way you'll know is if you don't stand around here wondering, but just do it."

She was smart. Aemma smiled and the woman returned her smile. "You'll have to go that way. At the end of the hallway you will find a painting. Behind it is a door. Open it and go along the corridor. Then you'll come out at a wooded area. Keep walking straight ahead. Avoid the paths. The forest is big and dangerous animals are lurking there," she pressed a knife into her hand. "Don't hesitate. Whether human or animal. Dangerous ones lurk everywhere."

Aemma took the knife in her hand. She looked to the woman.

"I will never forget you. If my family wins this war, I will not have forgotten you. You will be rewarded."

The woman grinned and stroked her arm lovingly. Aemma saw in her eyes, her sincerity.

"Survive, that is reward enough for me, child. And now, go."

Aemma looked into her eyes one last time before nodding gratefully. Then she ran. This was her chance. She could not fail. Her mother was counting on her. Aemma ran as fast as she could until she arrived at the painting. A door, as the woman had promised. The hallway was dark and cold, which is why she reached for the torch next to the painting, which lit her way to the exit. When she reached the end of the hallway, she felt a door and opened it.

Moonlight and the cool air of the night. Aemma took a deep breath.

She looked left and right, but there was no one to be seen. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her toward the forest. Just before she arrived, she stopped, startled, as she was suddenly confronted by guards standing by the adjacent lake with beer and food.

The men did not see her, but they stood directly between her and the only way to the forest. There was no other way. The men were laughing and joking as if the world was not collapsing around them. Idiots.

Aemma looked at the food. Then back to the men. They had left their food and were standing by the lake, joking and enjoying themselves as they carelessly bawled out their jokes. She would not get past them. They would see her, which was why there was only one way. Aemma stepped to her things and reached for the bottle of alcohol. Wine. Perfect. She poured some over the guards' things. Her swords she added as quietly as possible. Those fools didn't even hear how she gradually put everything in a pile. These were the Green's men? How pathetic.

Then she poured the alcohol everywhere she could. She poured the alcohol so that it was like a wall between them. Like a circle that confined her and gave her the opportunity to escape.

"Question," she began and the men turned to her in surprise. They looked at her with wide eyes and Aemma felt a satisfaction at what was about to follow.

"Aren't you cold?"

They saw irritated looks among themselves, but no one said anything. They were all shocked to see her standing there.

"You are lucky," Aemma began sweetly, almost girlishly. "I am a friend of fire. Let me warm you."

Then the sweet smile on her lips disappeared.

"Dracarys."

Her fingers released the torch, the fire landed on the alcohol trail, and in just a breath everything was in flames. The fire glittered in Aemma's eyes as it grabbed the men's belongings and they ran screaming towards her, only to be sent away by the flames.

Due to the alcohol, the fire spread furiously and everything was ablaze. The men tried to get their things, but they had no chance.

She briefly watched how the men tried to fight the flames, how they took water from the lake into their hands, but it was similar to fighting a wolf against a dragon. Useless.

Then Aemma ran.

As fast as she could.

Harrenhal was burning again. Aemma Velaryon had made it burn again, though she doubted the fire was dangerous in any way. It would only occupy her enemies for a few moments before they would come after her.

Aemma ran as fast as she could. She had no idea where she was running. She just tried to put as much space as possible between her and her enemies. They called after her, but she did not even turn around. Whoever hesitated died.

Aemma stopped hearing their voices and the hope that she had hung them out rose. But she was not stupid enough to stop. She couldn't let herself get caught. This was probably her only chance.

Then she saw the corner of her eye a shadow above her. The bare treetops, which had lost leaves through the winter, gave her a good view of the dark sky above her. And then she saw it again. The clouds parted in two and a roar echoed through the forest.

"Aemmaaaaa....," shouted a male voice she would have recognized among hundreds.

"Shit," Aemma cursed.

"You owe a debt, Aemma," roared Aemond as he flew over her head with Vhagar. She looked up. He was directly above her. Only the trees prevented him from looking down at her.

She ran while Aemond flew above her.

Aemond did came for her.

"Riñeeee....," Aemond's voice chanted above her, "you can't escape me."

Aemma kept looking up in panic.

"You are mine."

While she took what felt like a thousand steps, Vhagar had not even made the next wing beat. The fire must have attracted Aemond. But she had no other option.

He chased her like his prey, which he was about to eat at any moment.

"Aōha kepa jāhor va moriot ao." Your uncle will always find you.

Taglist

@dc-marvel-girl96 @marvelescvpe @ammo23 @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy-blog @crazymusicgirl104 @malfoytargaryen

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fortheloveofexy · 6 months ago

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Hey can you recommend any fan fics where The Foxes interact with their new freshmen after Aftg ends? Or other fics of Neil being a savage ?

Thank you 🙏🏼 ❤️

hello!! sorry it took me so long to reply to this, I haven't had much time to pull any recs together until now.

Also, just an FYI - I'm not the best at making rec lists as I often forget to bookmark the fics I like and I'm terrible at remembering fic titles too. That said, if anyone else has some suggestions for fics like this, please drop them in the replies!

never quite silenced - Stickballl (Rated G, 3.2k)

When asked for a reason why it was happening, Neil shrugged and muttered a simple I don’t know. It had to be the stress of championships. But Neil knew and each glance at the calendar made the anxiety worse. He’d ignored the anniversary for as long as he could. He thought he’d be fine with it. The past two years hadn’t bothered him, but it was like his body was finely attuned to it and made it a mission to make sure Neil remembered.

Stay With Me - Lostintheuniverseslies (Rated E, 97k)

Neil had let Andrew say goodbye to every important person left in Palmetto while he stood on the sidelines and cheered Andrew on. There was only one goodbye left and it would be the most painful one. It seemed as though it was finally hitting Neil too. They only had twenty-seven days together and then Neil would return to Palmetto alone for the first time since Millport. They spent the first year after everything healing. Now they have to learn how to navigate being away from each other while Andrew is off playing in the pros and Neil is still at Palmetto finishing his fifth year. Things aren't easy. They never seem to be for them but they're fighters. And they always come out on top.

this red is for you - Ominous (Rated T, 10k)

Katelyn never considered herself capable of doling out violence. It has always been a far away thought, dampened by college courses and late night dates with her boyfriend. She lives a stereotypical life, despite everything she's been through with Aaron. Aside from her growing connection with the notoriously troublesome Foxes, nothing much about her life has changed. Even then, she's learning she's still able to surprise herself. When Katelyn witnesses Neil defending Andrew, her own protective rage rears its head, ready to be explored. And maybe that's a good thing.

Deadly Affections - NikNak22 (Rated T, 12.2k)

Neil Josten is not soft- has never been in fact. But when an unintended comment from one of the Foxes throws Neil for a loop, he finds himself reminding them why no one should think of him in that way. But why is Andrew suddenly so distant? And what happens when all of these reminders of his past start to catch up with him? Aka: all the times Neil proved he was a badass, and Andrew reminds him he's an idiot.

take a long look, this is my good side - seasy33 (Rated T, 3.9k)

After an incident the night before has Neil showing up to practice with a bruised face, some of the newer Foxes get curious. When Nicky lets it slip that it was Andrew who blackened his eye, they decide to get involved. Neil handles it.

#fic recs #asks #ask crow

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awriternamedart · 1 year ago

Text

Of Two Wholes

A/B/O [Alpha! Gepard, Beta! Sampo] , SFW , Fluff

Theyve discussed the consquences of a bond mark, now its just time to commit.

(Crossposted from twt)

Ficlet below the break 👇

He could feel Gepards hesitation, teeth hovering over the scent gland on Sampo's neck. Potent, sharp, it seemed to invade and corrupt all of Gepards senses, and yet, he was still hesitating.

His head dropped to Sampo's shoulder, the conman's brow quirking up for a second before he chuckled.

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet, Gep." He couldn't help but tease, hands weaving up to thread his fingers into blond hair. The instinct inside him reared its head as Gepards cool, gentle scent was tainted by his worry, his hesitation.

"I just- This is what you want, right?" Lifting his head slowly, Gepard put his hand on Sampo's thigh, bringing blue eyes to inspect jade. The couch they sat on shifted with their weight. "I'm not- you don't feel forced-"

"Did we or did we not discuss this extensively for nearly a month now?" Sampo snorted, cutting Gepard off. "Seriously, Geppie, at this point I might start thinkin you dont wanna mark me!"

"What-?! No, no, that is and never will be the case-!" Gepards mild panic was immediately soothed by Sampo bursting into a fit of laughter, the captain scowling. "..That wasn't funny."

"Im sorry, I'm sorry- You get too caught up, cmon, Gep! We both want this, why hesitate?" Peals of laughter died off, Sampo still snickering as he traced his hands under Gepards chin. Corners of jade eyes turned up in a gentle smile, fondness and love leaking into the scent that permeated between them. Tilting his head just enough, the collar of his shirt once again stopped covering the scent gland, its full scent leaking out. Enticing Gepard, presented fully for him.

Biting his lip for a brief second, Gepard closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Before he knew it, he had leaned forward, nosing at the gland. Taking in the unmaimed, unbarred scent. Potent, wild, chaotic, but deceivingly calm in its nature, a perfect representation of the man who carried it.

"Cmon, Gepard. Don't keep me waiting too long."

Those whispered words of encouragement were all he needed before opening his mouth, fangs grazing the sensitive skin. A shudder went spiraling down Sampos spine, and then the inexplicable feeling of them sinking into his skin followed.

Color burst behind both of their eyes, a primal sort of twist to fate reaching out to the other, forcibly intertwining them together. It was a flurry, a flood of emotion and power, strengthened and emboldened as the core, the very essence that made them up raveled and twisted together.

Nothing could compare as Gepard finally pulled back, watching as the bite wound healed itself before his eyes, glowing a light blue before it faded into a blue tattoo-like imprint, a forever mark.

A bond.

"...holy shit." The dazed look in both of their eyes slowly gave way to clarity, Sampo the first to come back to ground. He reached up, lightly dragging his touch over the two imprints, shivering involuntary. "..whoever made up the rumor that betas cant bond is full of shit, cause I felt every second of that."

Gepard remained silent for a few seconds more, before he dove forward, burying his face into Sampo's neck. The conman yelled in surprise as his back hit the couch cushions, the sound soon deteriorating into laughter as Gepard nosed the area, trailing kisses up his lover's neck and chin.

His new scent was still undoubtedly Sampo, but now there was something inherently Gepard in there. Not quite like he had stayed around and simply had Gepard's scent lingering on his body, no, it was twined in, deeply woven into the recesses of Sampo. They were now a part of the other, two separates who chose to become joined.

It was never quite like missing a half. No, Gepard had always felt whole, but Sampo added onto that whole, willingly merging it with his own.

Pulling away just enough to hover over Sampo, Gepard found himself smiling, feeling the joy they now shared in tenfold before Sampo reached up, hands resting on Gepard's cheeks.

"Kiss me already, will ya?"

He was quick to follow his mate's request.

#sampard #gepo #fanfic #gepard #sampo #honkai star rail #hsr #gepard x sampo #omegaverse #beta sampo #alpha gepard #alpha x beta #arts snippets

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thisismeracing · 6 months ago

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bono!reader thots (feat. corrina schumi) [also mother’s day edition]

just thinking about bon’s first mother’s day being mick’s gf and how over the months her and corrina have gotten closer and closer with each time they see each other

and she already has susie as a maternal figure and her life and corrina has also become that for bon

and as she’s getting her mother’s day present(s) together for susie, she gets some things for corrina too

and while she’s getting her ducks in a row she’s just this anxious ball of nerves because “what if i'm overstepping and she’s just tolerating me because of mick” when in the back of her head she knows just her own issues rearing its ugly head

and when mick and her finally see corrina on mother’s day she waits until she can pull her to the side and have a private moment together and pulls out her own separate gift bag from mick and as she presents it to her she goes:

“i know we’ve only been close in these past few months, but i just wanted to let you know that you’re one of the best moms i’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. you’re so good to mick and i don’t know if it’s international or not but you’ve also been so good to me and took me into your life with open arms. and i really appreciate that because yeah i have susie but there’s just something so warm and comforting about you. and has been there for me when i needed an extra support to stay upright. i hope i’m half as good a mother as you one day.”

and then goes very panicky and exclaims “DON’T WORRY IM NOT PREGNANT YET. THIS IS NOT HOW I WOULD TELL YOU IF I WAS”

and corrina goes “oh thank you so much kiddo and i love that you feel safe enough with me to tell me this”

then bon subconsciously goes “thanks mum” and before she can correct herself corrina speaks up and says “of course <3, but don’t make me wait too long for grandbabies im not getting much younger now am i?”

and they sit there for a while laughing and sharing stories before mick and gina find them and join almost instantly regretting it because their mom is telling embarrassing childhood stories of them to their newest family member

from that day forward bon calls corrina mom/mum and before long it’s normal to hear bon happily yell “mum!” after looking up from her paperwork and getting up to greet her. it’s only a surprise when bon greats her with a “hi grandma!” instead of the usual greeting and then the whole paddock is in chaos (well, more than it usually is)

(i was going to do a bono-schumi kids mother’s day post but i couldnt quite make anything of that so i pivoted)

☕️

Omg this is so precious!!!!! ❤️❤️

Mick would absolutely melt with their interactions and gina, contrary to what a few ppl would believe, totally LOVED having bon as her sister, so much so she didnt mind sharing corinna with bb.

#☕️ anon #bonnington!reader #thots #mick schumacher #ms47 #millies inbox

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minumi-chan · 2 years ago

Text

A Twin Thing - Finale - 16 years old

Due to formatting, this chap is best read on A03 Rated: G Summary: How much do you know? His twin’s brow furrows deep, and Donnie looks tired, so tired when he finally whispers. “Everything.” Leo’s face pales. His eyes sting again at the corners. “E-Everything?” Everything.

A/N: This chapter is a sort of reversed mirror to the last one and intersects, if you skipped chap 6, the story will make sense but it will lose some clarity. If you elect to reread the pain train, I'm sorry in advance but also you're welcome for how this slots into place.

::CH1::CH2::CH3::CH4::CH5::CH6::

I also recommend a little bit of background ambiance music to help bring the feels home. Set this playlist to loop on your spotify (or wherever you like your jammy jams) and read: Home and Reunion -- Alkis Livathinos (From Hue OST)

~~ 16 years old ~ Finale ~~

“Mikey, it’s over,” Raph urges him gently.

Donatello releases a shuddering breath, not yet willing to face his youngest brother’s grief when he is still choking on his own. But Mikey’s voice rings clear and determined across the empty parking lot.

“Leo never gave up on us. I’m not giving up on him!”

The air around them sparks to life with electric golden light as Mikey groans with effort. Turning in surprise, Donnie feels a stir deep within himself the moment that the air before his little brother splits into a golden seam. He inhales sharply, several more tears escaping as his eyes widen.

“Mikey?! Whatever you’re doing-- don’t stop!!” Raph instructs as he rushes forward.

Donnie follows hot on his heels towards the inexplicable pull of what lies beyond that spark of mystic power. It pulses with an energy that tickles at the edges of the void throbbing in his chest. As he grasps his little brother’s shoulder tightly, he never takes his eyes off the glowing golden light ripping open space before them.

“We’re here, Mikey. Together!”

Mystic energy disseminates through the three of them and crackles their skin with Mikey’s golden light. The doorway opens into a dim lifeless space, filled with decaying frozen remnants of destroyed ships and krang carcasses.

With every inch the portal grows, Donatello feels the cold emptiness inside him shrink and fill with a presence he had not realized belonged there until this moment. A tiny mote of fury, a splash of humor, a blaze of passion, a wave of loyalty, and the warmth of a love he took for granted every second of every day of his life because Donnie has never once had to go without it until now. A presence he never wants to feel the lack of ever again.

Golden light illuminates Leo’s bruised face, and the dum dum has the gumption to smile as he reaches towards them, “Heh... took you guys long enough!”

Raph projects his arm through the portal without hesitation to pull their brother out of the darkness, but the menacing glint of a scarlet eye rears its ugly head behind Leonardo. The tears that still leak from Donnie’s eyes spark into seething streaks of violet mystic energy as he growls with unbridled rage at the Krang. Shaping his fury into a massive drill, he aims straight and true for the monster who nearly ripped his twin from him, buying just enough time for Raph to get Leo through the portal and into their waiting arms as Mikey closes it behind them.

The ringing he had heard is gone. As is the icy void in his chest, the aching emptiness he had felt when the krang portal snapped closed. Falling to his knees, Donnie studies Leo’s bruised and broken body in silent horror, words having left him as his head fills with a faint buzz of pain from... well everywhere.

“Leo?” Raph asks nervously beside him.

“Hey,” Leo answers tiredly after a brief moment, finding the strength somehow to offer them a smile. His gaze travels over each of his brothers’ faces, reaching Donnie last and pausing. The swollen skin around his eye twitches and his brow wrinkles slightly with concern as he eyes Don’s unusually obvious distress.

Donatello’s eyes water again as he feels the question that goes unspoken between them.

You good?

Pressing his lips into a tightline, Don minutely twitches his head in a nod and releases a shuddering breath when words cannot form on his tongue. Leo understands, because of course he always has, and moves his gaze elsewhere taking in their surroundings.

“ Ewww! Are we in Staten Island?”

Raphael pulls all his brothers into a hug full of relieved teary laughter as they cling to each other, shaking from the adrenaline and emotions still running high between them. He feels the way Leo winces through his laughter, an echo of a sharp sting in his own chest follows. Slowly, carefully, he reaches for Leonardo’s hand, the one that isn’t trembling and squeezes. Leo finds his gaze again with wide eyes, searching his face as if seeing something new, before squeezing back. Don feels his face grow damp again, and doesn’t bother to stem the fresh flow of tears this time.

He doesn’t let go of Leo’s hand. Not while they wait huddled together for April, Casey and Papa to get to their location. Not as they all pile into the ‘acquired’ van that will get them back to safety. Not for a moment during the long ride to get back into the city through the chaos and wreckage the invasion had caused. Not as his body temperature slowly drops, despite being surrounded on all sides by his brothers. Not when his eyes droop closed in spite of everything racing through his mind telling him to stay awake.

Voices murmur around him, but he’s reached the stage where he can’t understand them. It’s all just radio static. No one presses him for words he can’t find. He sits quietly, breathing slow and shallow through the pain, hand still locked with Leo’s where his twin sits propped up against Raph’s chest. Mikey is pressed close beside him, arms folded carefully in his lap unmoving when normally he’d be playing with his phone.

His little brother is in pain, Donnie realizes. It radiates off of Raphael as well, in the tenseness of his muscles, and the way he grinds his jaw. Leo is like a beacon of it, pulsing with hurt and yet still finding it in himself to keep smiling, making soft voiced jokes probably to soothe all of their nerves and to keep himself awake. They should all stay awake...

Donnie should be planning their next move, should be assessing each family member's damage to know what they’ll need when they arrive home. With Leo out of commission, he’s going to need help. Did his brothers shred the manuals for all of the medical devices in the medbay like they did for the Turtle tank? Maybe he should just send the digital backups straight to their phones for ease of access... Do they even have enough supplies for how injured they all are? He tries to move through a checklist of what he knows is stocked in their small, about to be proven inadequate medbay... only to find his thoughts moving like a spoon through a thick lumpy soup. Nevermind that he cannot recall exactly what is in stock at home, they definitely are going to need more of everything , and should make a pit stop before reaching the lair.

He tries to say as much, only his tongue clicks in his mouth and no words leave him. Trying again results only in another series of clicks, ending with a very soft chirp.

Leo catches the small noises immediately, looking at him with increasing concern. The distortion of unintelligible words continues around him and Don blinks slow, almost doesn’t open his eyes again. His tongue clicks again trying to form words, except it gets stuck in a long strangled sound that nearly makes him gag this time.

“Donnie, you okay buddy?”

Raph is speaking now, and it takes real effort to drag his eyes up to his eldest brother. The larger turtle moves his hands tiredly, there’s something wrong with his right arm. Donnie can tell by how stiffly he moves and the sloppiness of his hand shapes.

[[ Sign? ]]

Don swallows thickly, clicking again. The fingers of his free hand lift and twitch through the pain, but the signs won’t come, locked in his mind.

“Hey Dee, you with me?”

Donnie shifts his gaze to his twin who’s right eye has nearly swollen shut, Leo squeezes their still laced fingers and it hurts . Everything hurts .

The edges of Don's vision are as dark as the bruises ripening along all of their bodies. In lieu of answering, his eyes fall shut as a violent shiver runs through him and he whimpers. Gravity does something funny, and Donnie hears what might be his name frantic on Mikey's tongue.

Only then does his grip on Leo’s hand finally loosen, and all fades to unforgiving black.

The anxiety, fear, and pain they have all been suppressing throughout their hard won fight bubbles up the moment Donatello keels over like a limp noodle. For several minutes, the back of the van is pure chaos, raised voices, worried cries, upset tears and distressed movement, before Leo can finally wrangle everyone’s attention and energy into effective triage. Not a single one of them is whole, but they do their best to follow his shaky instructions.

Everything in his body aches like a raw nerve, so much so that Leo could hardly feel the steady undercurrent of his twin’s echoing pain beneath his own. He can’t know everything that his little brothers endured when he separated from them inside the technodrome, but even just the blow that broke through Donnie’s shield at the top... Leo intimately knows the power behind those blows. He should have known -- should have realized sooner that Don could not have remained unscathed after such a direct hit. He should have been paying attention to everyone's condition...

Leo fights back the pure panic that washes through him when darkness starts to edge at his own vision. He can’t pass out on them too, they need direction and with Donnie out cold, there’s no one else with enough medical knowledge to walk them through dressing the wounds they’ve suffered, or using the equipment in the medbay. It takes Leo a moment to realize the scared whimpers he’s hearing distantly are his own. He’s waited too long, and now there is no telling who will konk out next, and whether or not they’d even wake up again.

��Easy, Leo. Just one step at a time. We’ll get through this together, like we always do, okay?” Raph assures him with a gentle squeeze to this shoulder.

He must be speaking out loud, but he can no longer hear himself above the ringing in his ears. He’s floating as the room gets dimmer. No, no, no, he doesn’t want to be alone in the dark again.

“My son,” Splinter’s voice is the gentlest he has ever heard it as his pink hand brushes over his brow, “We’re here, you’re here with us, you're safe now.”

Casey nervously pipes up, but he’s so very far away to Leo, “Isn’t there a medical facility we could go to?”

“T-There aren’t any that would be non-human friendly yet, Casey,” Even April sounds shaky.

“Barry-- we should call Barry, omigosh-- do we even know if he’s okay?? April could you, o-ow eheh...” Mikey’s weak laugh is a poor cover for his obvious pain as he pulls out his phone and nearly drops it when handing it over to her. His hands are shaking too much to work it. Leo tries not to think about nerve damage and how little he can do to reverse that...

“Nice thinking, Mikey...” Leo offers weakly and shivers as his eyes droop against his will, “Could-- could someone... turn on the l-lights...please?”

Several frightened voices call his name as he sinks deeper into the darkness, feeling small and terrified . Alone. Again.

The Krang’s laughter echoes ominous around him and Leo feels his breath start to freeze in his lungs as--

Familiar warmth fills his chest, easing the chill, calming his breaths, sharing the pain . Leo wants to cry when he feels the presence somehow standing with him.

I’m here.

Relief battles against the agonizing memory of that cold dark void, trapped, terrified, alone--

Please-- please don’t leave me alone--

I won't.

Leo believes in those words, and finally lets go of conscious thought.

The next several hours are a haze of agony and severe anxiety every time he wakes up dazed and unaware of where he is. Pain is always the first sensation, followed by dread, and cold. The endless cold vastness of dead space, alone --

I’m here.

Leo clings to the comfort of those words and fades out again.

Splinter and Draxum argue quietly when next he wakes up. He can’t really understand what they’re saying through the fog of hurt. It takes them a moment to even realize he’s staring dully between them as if following a ping pong match.

“You shouldn’t be alive ,” the yokai sounds oddly fond as he injects something into Leo’s IV bag that makes the world go soft around the edges. There’s a thump followed by a grunt from Draxum.

“What I mean is. I am. Glad. That you. Are not extinguished,” he finishes awkwardly.

“I still h’ven f’got you... you threw m’off a buildin’,” Leo slurs, barely able to keep his eyes open from the heavy combination of drugs keeping his pain and stress levels manageable.

“And he still has not apologized for it,” Splinter gruffs, smoothing a hand over his brow. Leo closes his eyes and drifts away again before he can make out Draxum’s haughty laughing rebuttal.

Another laugh echoes sinister around him in the dark and he tenses.

I’m here.

He relaxes .

The next time he wakes up, it’s with the dissociative numbness that only comes from a very strong cocktail of painkillers. He’s on his side... man he hates sleeping on his side, leaves such a bad crick in the neck... The dull pulsing throb in his shell even through the haze of medication tells him why it must be so. Bit by bit he registers his surroundings.

Mikey is curled up carefully beside him. His little brother’s head is wrapped, and he can see a line of butterfly stitches peeking under the gauze. His mind moves like molasses through the fight, recalling the hit that separated them. How Leo had cracked his shell for the first time (but not the last) against the concrete slabs surrounding them, but Mikey-- Michelangelo had smacked head first into one. Mikey's hands are also bandaged up from fingertips to the elbows... and from what his blurred vision reveals, Leo has even more bandages all over his own body along with a few casted limbs. Mikey’s bandaged palm is on his plastron, just over where his heart beats. He’s so unnervingly quiet and still in his repose, so unlike the vibrant Michelangelo he knows, that it makes Leo’s heart speed up in fear . The machine he’s connected to beeps in tandem with his rising heart rate, betraying his conscious state.

“Hey, Leon~” he can hear the smile in Mikey’s tired voice before he drags his eyes back to his little brother’s face. The skin under his eyes is bruised and puffy, no doubt from long hours of too many tears and not enough sleep.

He croaks what is supposed to be Mikey’s name. His eyes blink closed for a long moment, and he jerks to fight it, feeling several injuries protesting at the violent movement. Groaning at the residual throb now thrumming throughout his battered limbs and shell, he shifts his gaze around the room desperately until it lands on another brother.

Raphael is squished into a chair that’s just barely big enough for him, one arm in a sling, an eye hidden under bandages, and his cheek smushed where it rests against his less injured shoulder. He will definitely have a crick in his neck later... Raph’s good hand is curled protectively over the crown of his Donnie’s head where he lays with his back to Leo in the bed opposite him.

His single eye that isn’t swollen shut widens in horror at the sight of the bloodied bandages all over his twin’s back. The heart monitor picks up the pace again.

“Hey, hey--” Mikey shushes him softly, patting his plastron gently.

“Whas--”

“It’s okay, Leo--”

“H-happen--” his breath stutters as his chest aches from the pressure of his quickening breaths against his broken ribs.

“Leo please, take it easy,” Mikey’s cracking voice finally makes him tear his sight away from twin’s unmoving form to his little brother now openly crying before him. “He’s gonna be o-okay. You’re both gonna be okay.”

“Mikesh, whappen--”

“I can’t talk about it right now, kay? M-Maybe later?” Mikey takes a shaky breath and wipes his cheek with a bandaged arm before hissing in pain.

“O-Okay, Migs,” Leo slurs, his eyes are drooping, but he forces his only good hand-- were they all just a band of one armed, no-armed ninjas now or what -- and clasps the hand Michael still had against his heart. “Wer gon be good, yeah?”

Michelangelo gives him a watery smile and nods, “Yeah.”

Leo’s eyes shut against his will. As the darkness surrounds him, he shudders. The glare of a red eye falls upon him. No, not again--

I’m here.

Leo holds tight to that like a shield.

Raph’s chair is now between their beds when consciousness finds him again. His big brother is asleep once more, but someone has found him a neck pillow to brace under his chin. The result is him snoring like a chainsaw. Leo’s eyes are gritty and he wants to rub them but moving is so hard so he just blinks several times.

Donnie’s back is still to him in the next bed over, but his bandages are only tinted pink this time. He shivers at the memory of the blood and his heart monitor skips a beat. Raph snorts and stirs in his chair, his one good eye peeking open. He starts when he notices Leon awake.

“Leo!” He winces, realizing how loud his excitement is, and looks over at the other bed, “Sorry Mikey just fell asleep, so we gotta be quiet.”

Leon squints at the other bed and sees a slip of orange bandana over the curve of Donnie’s bruised shoulder. Distracted, he traces all the visible injuries on his twin that he can see from his limited vantage point.

“Why’s Don give’m a run fer my mummy?” he mutters, brow furrowed as he drags his eyes up to Raph and slowly lifts one corner of his mouth in a smile.

Raphael watches him wide-eyed before rubbing a hand over his maskless face with a quiet groan, “You did not just say that on purpose. It’s the drugs. I’ma chalk it up to the drugs--”

Leo tries to shift to get a better look at the other bed’s occupant only to end up whimpering as pain stabs through him. When it’s over, his eyes are watering and Raph has gotten up from his chair to reach for him.

“Why’s Donnie lie that? Wha’ happened?” he wheezes out.

“Easy, did ya want to move a bit? Raph can help, tell big bro what ya need.”

“Raphie, don’t-- yer putin’ t’much stress on yer injuries, I just know ish,” Leo grunts as he tries to wriggle away from Raphael’s touch, breaths quickening and the damn monitor broadcasting his agitation .

“Okay, okay, look I’m sitting, witness me sit. There, ya happy?” Raphael doesn’t quite manage to hide a grunt of discomfort as he settles down. “Don’t say I told you so, I will get a sandal, don’t try me.”

Leo manages a true giggle at that, breathing becoming easier before pinning his older brother with a knowing look, “Yer dodgin’ my ques’... ques’.. Jus’ answer.”

Raphael sighs but offers a lopsided smile, “I guess you an’ Donnie wanna compete even in this, huh? You guys keep waking up out of sync. Very un-twinlike of ya. Demanding answers about everybody, without ever thinking about yourselves.”

He trails off, swallowing thickly and looking over at the other bed where their little brothers rest.

“Whas happen, Raph?” Leo insists again, “Tell me?”

“It’s been a long three days, bro.”

Leo gapes, “T-Three days ?”

“Yea, lemme fill ya in,” Raph’s eye is shining with unshed tears even as he smiles at Leo and reaches out again to rub a large thumb across his brow back and forth. Leo’s too honest when drugged to pretend he hates it, so he chirps softly instead and half closes his eyes as he leans into the petting.

“Barry actually came in clutch, probably woulda lost my eye if he hadn’t been here... When the bandages come off, we’ll see how my vision is. Arm’s broken, shell’s busted, some burns from... from that stuff,” Raph pauses with a shaky breath, going silent for a long minute and just breathing.

Leo blinks his eyes open, he can finally open both of them again, though his right one still feels sore. His big brother is looking into the middle distance, never stopping his gentle touch over Leon’s brow.

“Raph?” Leonardo says barely above a whisper, wrapping his good hand around Raph’s wrist, “S’okay, ya dun hafta if--”

"Mikey's got a lot of bruising and one hell of a concussion. He’s still getting around on his own the best out of all of us though. Donnie--" Raph interrupts his attempt to offer an out of the conversation, looking over at the other bed, and pride rolls off him like the single silent tear that rolls down his cheek, his voice is slightly thicker when he continues, "Mikey said that blow at the top wasn't the only one Donnie took for him that day. Dee did a good job being The Big Bro while we were both uhh... occupied . Kept Mikey safe . But his arms, Mikey’s arms haven’t stopped shaking, so Casey's been doing most of the cooking. It's been an experience learning that Casey knows next to nothing about spices. But well, Mikey, Dad and me take turns showing him what to add in. You gotta watch the kid drink some cinnamon cocoa, you’d swear it was the nectar of the gods...”

Leo huffs a laugh, and feels relieved when it brings a smile back to Raph’s face.

“That’s been helping keep Mikey distracted too. He's... not doing so good with being separated from anybody for too long right now."

Leo thinks back to waking up with Mikey curled up beside him. Looking back at his twin's bed and seeing him tucked against Donnie, clinging in much the same way he had to Leo at that time.

"He's taking turns," Raph explains, following his gaze, "Sometimes he sleeps with you, sometimes me, right now it's Dee..."

"Whas happen to Don? Why’s he s’hurt?"

"Donnie... he-- he got ripped out of the control console. Dee's not very talkative right now but Mike was there. To control the ship he said Donnie had to..." Raphael shudders, closing his eye briefly, "Said he had to integrate with it through his shell... Then that hit from that asshole... He keeps waking up looking for you, like he thinks yer still in... in that place. I’m guessing concussion stuff? Won’t calm down ‘till he can see ya. Haven't seen you two so keen on each other since we were little. It'd be cute, if everything else wasn’t so..."

"F'dged?"

"Did you censor yourself on purpose?"

"Nuh...fud. Fug... Fudgeh...f'rget it..."

Raph actually laughs, and Leo feels a million pounds of stress dissipate at the sound, chest aching with not a small amount of pride to have inspired even a little bit of humor in Raph. Things can't be so horrible, if he can still make Raphael laugh.

"Wer... gon'be okay, right Raphie?"

"Yea, little bro. We're gonna be okay," Raph's voice trembles but he's smiling as he says it, thumb never pausing its soothing motion across his forehead.

It's too soon when sleep tries to claim him again, blurring Raph’s words and making them almost unintelligible in the fog creeping back over his mind. He whines and shifts trying to fight it.

“Shh, Leo, rest. Raph’ll be here when you wake up,” Raphael promises.

He has no doubts that Raphael will keep that promise, but he isn’t afraid of being alone while awake .

What he fears is being alone and cold in the dark. Alone and floating in the vastness of space. Alone under the beam of a red eye . Alone--

I’m here.

Leo weeps, but it’s from relief .

The next time he blinks into quasi-awareness the pain has somehow doubled, like two conflicting songs being played in the background, low enough to not compete with each other, but loud enough to make out the lyrics of both if you chose to focus. Whatever drugs were in his system must be running low if Leo can feel his twin’s agony alongside his own... Or maybe it’s Donnie’s morphine that has run its course and his twin is in enough suffering that even he can feel it. Has he been projecting on Donnie this whole time too? The thought curdles his stomach with worry .

His movement is sluggish as he shifts to look for his twin. He’s still in the bed across the way, however this time facing towards him. With his mask off, it’s easy to see the harrowed creases of Donnie’s forehead. Sweat beads on Donnie’s brow, and there’s an ugly bruise discoloring the whole right side of his face, cheek puffy with swelling still. His arms are curled in front of him carefully, one is casted to below the elbow, the other has a stiff wrist brace, a phone still cradled loosely in his better hand. Leo frowns, knowing his dum dum brother has probably been trying to work on whatever nerdisms he can while barely being able to use his damn phone. The steady beeping of the heart monitors they are connected to is somehow nerve wracking and soothing all at once. It at least lets him know his twin is stable, and there are no immediate concerns.

Mikey sighs in his sleep nearby and Leo’s gaze jumps to his little brother, curled up asleep in the chair between their beds that Raph usually occupies. There’s a teddy tucked in his bandaged arms, one of Raphael’s, and he’s smushed into the large pillow draped over the arm of the chair. Though Mikey is small, it still can’t be comfortable to sleep there.

“He won’t sleep outside the medbay. Hasn’t since we got back,” a warm human hand brushes over the back of his neck and he jumps before the slow soothing motions make him recognize the touch, “Hey, it’s April, you’re alright... You said that out loud by the way.”

“Why I kep doin’ that--”

“The drugs I’m sure, or the concussion, or both probably. Either way, you’ve been a wealth of entertainment, especially when you’re extra out of it,” April chuckles, and something cool and soothing is being applied to his shell.

“Fugg, nooo-- What I say?” Leo whines, hissing when shifting pulls a wave of fire through the cracks in his shell. April shushes him quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder to squeeze gently, thumb tracing over one of the yellow stripes on his skin.

“Ask Donnie to show you later, he records everything,” She answers bemused, before continuing her work at his shell, “Raph’s gone to take a shower, I promised him I’d change your shell dressing and stay ‘til he was back so Mikey didn’t get anxious. You doing okay? Need anything?”

He cranes his neck to give her a tired smile, “Not f’me... Dee, Dee’s in pain tho. Needs mo’meds.”

April looks at him silently for a long moment, before turning to look at Donnie, seeing the discomfort now broadcasting on his sleeping face. When she looks back at Leo she raises a brow over the rim of her red glasses.

“Is this one of your freaky twin things?”

Leo grins though it makes half his face ache.

April shakes her head with a small laugh, “Well, thing is Donnie asked for us to back off his painkillers. Makes his mind too fuzzy to work. Yes, I know he shouldn’t be, but--”

She trails off avoiding his gaze.

“Whas it? Whas wrong?” When she doesn’t respond right away, Leo’s heart monitor picks up in rhythm, he prompts her again, “April, tell me...”

“Donnie’s been remotely upgrading the Lair security. Said it was serious, that it couldn’t wait. We still have the key-- and we’re in no shape to defend it if anyone tries to take it right now. He won’t--” she hesitates again, before steeling herself with a slow breath, “He won’t say what exactly, but he saw something when he took over the ship.”

Leo’s mind is spinning in a million directions. The technodrome-- he asked him to hijack it. Raph told him, Donnie integrated into the ship-- it’s what caused such terrible injuries to his shell. Guilt twists his guts as he stares at his twin.

“He was adamant we let him work, and after everything, well... we agreed as a family. Sorry Leo, you were asleep for that meeting, and something tells me it was for the best,” April finishes with a sigh, rubbing his arm soothingly as his heart monitor beeps in warning.

“No, no--” Leo’s brow furrows, eyes never leaving his brother, “I trus’ Don. If ‘e says it needs t’happen, then, it neesh to... Hey, Big Sis?”

April squeezes his shoulder again and he can hear the smile in her voice, “What’s up little bro?”

“Could you...”

Leo’s fading again. He hates being this tired all the time, being unable to hold more than a three minute conversation before the darkness claims him again. When he shivers at the memory, April must mistake it for cold because she pulls the blankets tighter around him.

“Ask Raphie t’put... put our besh togesh peas?”

“You got it, that’s an O’Neil promise.”

He tries to thank her but the shadows take over his vision. This time, he doesn’t simply wait in the void of his memory's making. He’s pushing through the terror and reaching, pushing out of the darkness, towards the familiar warm light he can always feel inside him, until he hit the barrier his twin has always kept around himself to buffer their connection. But something doesn’t feel right, something is different, off about the arrangement this time. He isn’t being kept out, rather something is being kept in . He pushes further, bumping along the edges, with a little more pressure, a little more insistence each time until he finds a soft spot, until something gives, until he can slip into a crack past his brother’s defenses and--

Leonardo nearly shrinks back at the inescapable tangle of horror .

Everything feels slimy.

And slippery.

And slithering.

I’m here!

Flashes of translucent pink-violet tentacles surround him and Leo is consumed with a dread and disgust so violent he chokes down the urge to vomit. His head is full of images, most flashing faster than he can process, and he’s thankful because those that he can glimpse are nothing but death and annihilation, but he pushes through the pulsing and the writhing terror of it all until--

I’m here, Dee!

Another wall, the dam behind which Donatello has always withheld his emotion. Pink fleshy tendrils encase it like a tomb, only a sliver of violet light peeping through here and there. It nauseates him, but Leo pulls and tears against the tumorous growths, ripping them away from his brother’s essence, reaching for the light.

Let me be here for you too!

The horrifying images stutter like a film projector getting tangled in the feed and the pictures start to burn away. He pushes harder , reaches deeper into the nest of awful sensory nightmare .

I won’t leave you alone with this!

The tendrils slowly slide away from the cracked walls in near shambles but somehow still standing, and in their place he is wrapped with a distant echo of gratitude .

In the place between memory and dream, he floats...

You-- You’ve ruined everything!

Every ache in his body makes itself known. So much so that he cannot tell if he is recovering from the worst beat down of his life or still enduring it. In the distance, something beeps rhythmically and fast... too fast.

And now... my wrath will be reserved for you alone .

He floats. In a blanket of darkness, with carcasses of decaying krang amalgamations, of fragmented ships and wreckage. The cold seeps into every pore of his being, choking the warmth out of his skin.

You think you’ve won?

I’m here!

No, he chokes on the blood pooling in his mouth, and in his lungs from the impact of each hit.

You wretched

I’m here!

His chest aches for the sweet lightness of air, but instead there are claws beating him down.

Little

I’m here!

Down, down, down, down, under the glare of a red eye...

PEST!

Leo~!

Deep into the crushing weight of his own terror.

Wipe that grin off your face! I’M HERE~!

He whimpers breathless, tensing, waiting for the blow that will break him. The swing comes down and he feels--

FURY whirling around him like a hurricane, violently dispelling the memory of the blow that broke nearly all of his ribs. Melting the breath frozen in his lungs and he gasps for air, mind spinning and dizzy with foreign emotion. Burning away the beam of scarlet in the darkness until it shifts into the soft hazy LED white of the overhead can lights Donnie had installed in the medbay last year.

Two sets of heart monitors are screeching with elevated heart rates in the distance. Distance? Leo blinks and the tears flow over his face leaving uncomfortable trails of moisture, but he can’t move. Fingertips lightly pat his plastron with a repetitive motion. He struggles to focus his doubled vision to the casted arm moving frantic in front of him, back and forth, back and forth in a familiar sign, over another’s chest. It repeats again and again, along with a careful tapping on his bandaged plastron.

His mind finally registers the sign for breathe and Leonardo gasps around a broken sob, closing his eyes and shaking apart. With the release of all the tension in his body comes the pain of every injury he stressed during his panic. Another sob tears from his throat and he curls up as much as his injured body will allow. The din of half a dozen voices begins to filter through his frazzled mind. Whimpering a pathetic broken sound, he wishes only to hide from everyone, yet he doesn’t want to be alone .

Protectiveness washes over him in a soothing wave, gradually quieting his broken sobs into soft whines of discomfort. He reaches for Donnie’s hand and holds it carefully, wary of causing any pain to his damaged wrist. Don folds a hand around his in a firm grip and squeezes. It takes several moments, but soon the room falls silent save for the calmed beeping of their heart monitors and Leo’s hitching breaths as he winds down slowly.

“Where’d everybody go?” Leo pretends his voice isn’t so wobbly several minutes later as he finally uncurls to look around them.

Donnie releases his hand momentarily and signs more calmly now, but the motions are still made awkward between the cast and the brace.

[[ Asked them to leave us. ]]

The sound of quiet sniffles in front of him draws his eyes up to his brother’s face and Leo is startled to find Donnie’s eyes shining with held back tears as he glares at the bed covers between them. Leo studies his brother trying to understand the feelings Don cannot express with the same ease as himself and their brothers always have. He reaches out into the ephemeral space between them, spirit stretching in a motion made natural from years of practice, until he can brush up against his brother’s edges and--

It is like walking up to an overburdened dam, the violet walls are meters thick, tall and imposing, and yet they groan and buckle with the immensity of what they hold back, spider cracks spreading like wildfire along the surface, leaking tiny jets of emotion that lap against his ankles in little waves. Just behind the immense barrier, an ocean of feeling that Leo has only ever caught glimpses of before, threatening to burst forth at any wrong move.

In front of him, Donnie continues chewing his bottom lip hard enough that he will be bleeding soon if he does not stop.

“Dee?” he whispers, and as soon as he has Don’s attention, motions to his own mouth, “Want something else to chew? Maybe the blanket?”

The furrows in Don’s brow deepen and he chews harder, almost spiteful.

“Donnie, stop-- please ,” Leo squeezes the hand he still holds hard enough to know it has to hurt, but it works as intended.

Donatello closes his eyes with a sigh, tears finally leaking from his eyes as he does, but stops chewing. He keeps his eyes closed, brow creased, silent save for his shaky breathing. In the space that only exists between their souls, Leo senses himself still wrapped up in a feeling not his own. He’s being guarded , he slowly realizes, from the tremor of fear still waiting in the back of his mind along with his horrid memories, from the festering wraiths still tugging at his twin’s edges.

For as long as Leo can remember, this has been his role, reaching out without hesitation whenever he sensed his twin needed. He cannot recall a time when their connection has been so free flowing. So... reciprocated, even with everything Donnie was still holding back . It almost feels like they don't need words. Leo is fascinated, and projects his curiosity through the open channel between their spirits. Donnie doesn’t withdraw for once, and the dam groans as the cracks spread.

He looks at Leo with a knowing clarity, then shifts his gaze away with a shrug.

For so long Leo has reached out, and while not exactly rejected, Donnie never reached back. His walls permanently affixed between them and growing thicker with every year they got older, with every year Donnie thought himself wiser to what he deemed Leo’s childish whim of their ‘twinhood.’ Leo thinks he senses shame and immediately responds with reassurance.

Donnie scoffs aloud, and tries to pull his hand away, but Leo won’t let go, he laces their fingers together and holds tighter.

"You kept being asleep whenever I'd wake up,” Leo whispers between them, slightly off balance from the new sensations and the extra set of emotions coursing through him, but still manages a shaky smile, “Hi.”

The sudden fondness that spills over the top of the dam and waterfalls onto him makes his eyes mist up.

“T-This is new...” his voice cracks on the whisper. Guilt follows heavily at the admission.

“What’s wrong?” Leo asks gently.

The feeling intensifies, until Donnie looks away, covering his face with his casted arm. Leo finally shakes their hands loose at this, and Donatello seems to take this as a bad sign because he whimpers and curls in on himself.

With everything in his body stinging like a raw nerve, Leo drags himself closer, inch by agonizing inch until he can throw his own casted arm around Donatello’s trembling shoulder, careful of his injured shell. His twin releases a shuddering breath, chirping a confused little whine as he blinks up at him in surprise.

Leo offers his own consoling chirp as he settles and meets Donatello’s gaze.

After a moment of silence, Don offers a lazy salute sign with his mostly good hand.

[[ Hi. ]]

"There you are," Leo half smiles.

Donatello presses his mouth into a thin line, and Leo knows it’s to prevent himself from chewing on his already tattered lips again. His twin’s throat works, and his jaw moves but he only makes a few agitated clicks, no words finding their way to his tongue. With a deep breath, Donnie shapes several frustrated signs.

[[ Why are you comforting me?? ]] His hands point between them with sharp jerky movements.

Leo looks blankly at him, because isn’t it obvious? He’ll chalk it up to the major concussions they’re both still recovering from.

“Because you’re having gross feels time... duh?”

[[ What about you? ]]

“W-What about me?” Leo stutters and tries to laugh but it’s weak.

“Leon,” Donnie croaks his name out loud, thick with frustration.

“Not everything's a competition, Donald," Leon huffs with false bravado to hide the inadequacy that chokes him as he looks over his brother's battered form, “It’s not about me.”

It’s what he comforted himself with, in the cold . In the dark . Through the pain . And the fear . When he was sure he would be dead .

Donnie shivers before him staring intently, as if he can feel every thought in his mind. Donatello moves his hands, but aborts the signs too soon for Leo to catch his meaning. He waits through several false starts patiently before Donnie finally reveals his thoughts.

[[ Mad at you. ]]

Leo chuckles, disheartened , "Yea, what else is new?"

He feels alarm bubble back at him.

[[ NO. ]]

Donnie stresses with a long click in his throat.

[[ Not like that -- Not good at this . ]]

His twin heaves a frustrated breath as he motions between them before curling his hands towards his plastron and scratching.

“Are you... trying to have a heart to heart with me, Donbon?” he can’t help but tease, it’s his default coping mechanism.

[[ Stop! Being serious . Pay attention. ]]

Donatello’s glare is scarier without his eyebrows on, and no one will convince him otherwise.

“You have a captured audience, bro-- literally. I can't go anywhere,” Leon wiggles his casted limbs to emphasize.

“ Leo ,” Donnie speaks aloud again, his voice cracking on the name. And Leo quiets at his seriousness and watches his twin sign solemn.

[[ You left us behind. ]]

“I’m not apologizing for that,” Leonardo growls around the knot in his throat, looking away stubbornly. “I did what had to be done.”

[[ Could have worked together--]]

“You were miles away, Don! You got knocked out of the sky! After that hit, I didn’t even know if you were stable, or alive , or--” Leo cuts himself off when his voice cracks, clearing his throat, “There wasn’t another way. Either three of us walked out of there, or none of us did. The latter was not an option I was gonna entertain.”

Donnie is nearly seething, his hand movements twisted awkward between the cast and the rage bleeding from his spirit.

[[ There always is another way-- ]]

“We had one shot, and I took it. If I hadn’t --”

Leo feels the aching darkness of the prison dimension in his mind and trembles, remembers the flashes of doom from his twin’s dreams and they both shiver in tandem. Taking a calming breath, he tries a different approach.

“Don, if you’d been the last one up there, what would you have done?”

[[ Thought my way out!! ]]

“Yea well, I’ve never been as smart as you...” Leo grumbles, hunching in on himself. His chest pangs with the feeling of wrong wrong wrong .

His brother tries to speak again, but the words die on his tongue as he smacks his lips together in annoyance. His fingers curl closed at his chest, wordless there as well. Leo feels the frustration building, the dam rumbling between their channel, and acts on instinct.

Tell me this way?

Donatello’s eyes snap up to his in surprise. Doubt filters through to him.

S’okay. Just try?

Donnie stares at him in silence, until his eyes begin to take on a watery shine again.

Gone.

Leo shakes his head in confusion.

You were gone.

He watches as Donnie taps the middle of his plastron absently.

You were gone, from here.

Leon remembers the cold of the prison dimension. How it felt like it was not only surrounding him, but was coming from inside him, and wonders now how much of that had been their disconnection. Donnie shivers with him at the memory, closing his eyes with a stuttered breath.

You can finally feel me?

He can’t quite hide the longing, the years of loneliness he has endured in the question.

Donnie stares at him in growing realization.

Didn’t understand. So I just...

Pushed me away...

Remorse floods into him, and the strength of it chokes the air from his lungs. He pushes through the wave with ready forgiveness , wrapping his twin in it.

The dam groans louder, like a wounded beast in its death throes.

Donnie curls in on himself as much as his injuries will allow, rubbing the uncomfortable dampness gathering once more in his eyes. He tries to pull away as usual, and it pains Leo to give up the flow of their connection even a little bit, after so often starving for it, after finally getting a taste of what it could be like. For so long, Leon has existed alone in this space, that he doesn't remember how open their channel now is. He doesn’t think about how any of his thoughts echo between them as Leo lets go, like he always does for his twin’s solace.

His twin shakes as he tries to sign.

[[ You took away our choice. ]]

“I’d do it again,” he holds firm to his self-sacrifice , and then--

The dam erupts .

Leo’s chest jams with a cacophony of feeling as the barrier crumbles, the full impact of all of his twin’s repressed emotions crashing over him, into him, through him all at once like a tsunami rushing ashore.

Grief.

Despair.

Loneliness.

Loss. Loss. Loss. Loss. Loss. LOSS.

“Donnie--” Leo almost can’t breathe from the weight of the anguish flowing out of his twin.

The intensity makes his skin pebble, and he shivers against the sensation of too much too much!! The bleed through is so strong he can't tell if it's coming from his twin, or himself, or both . He makes to move his arm away, to give Donnie more breathing room, but when his twin chirps in utter distress, he aborts and stays put. Overwhelmed with sentiment, he moves closer on instinct until their foreheads knock together gently, closing his eyes against the tears streaming suddenly down both their faces.

I’m here.

You’re back.

I’m here, Dee.

You’re back.

I’m here. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.

You’re back. You’re back. You’re back.

Silence settles between them as Leo waits for the crunchiness of the air against their skin to die down, to stop buffeting them until they feel raw. Time crawls like molasses around them while the wave of emotion ebbs and recedes, and their breathing calms, and their eyes stop blurring with salt and water. His soul is dragged over three miles of prickly reef while churning through the waves and back, and still he reaches .

I’m still here.

I’m here too.

Donatello nods, watching him like he can see every doubt in Leonardo’s mind now. It’s unnerving and yet Leo feels somehow... comforted .

I won’t push you away anymore...

Leo grabs a corner of the blanket and uses it to wipe at Donnie’s tear soaked face. His twin protests with several annoyed clicks deep in his throat, but doesn’t actually try to stop him. Instead, he grasps another part of the blanket and returns the favor as Leo exhales a watery laugh smothered by cotton.

Promise?

When he releases the blanket, Donnie stares at him solemnly as he places his pointer finger against his lips, then brings the hand down with the palm flat against his top of the thumb-side of his curled fist.

Leo squeezes his eyes shut and bites his bottom lip so he doesn’t tear up again and nods. They rest quietly for several long minutes, comfortable with the silence in the room because of the welcome noise of their hearts beating in tandem.

With a stealing breath, Leon braves a question, feeling as though he already has the answer.

How much do you know?

His twin’s brow furrows deep, and Donnie looks tired, so tired when he finally whispers.

“Everything.”

Leo’s face pales. His eyes sting again at the corners.

“E-Everything?”

Everything.

The thought echoes between them as Leon’s breath quickens. As his memories treacherously turn back to the glare of a red eye in the dark. The desolate isolation of his torture under outraged claws--

I’m here, Leo.

And just like that, his mind’s eye turns gently away from the horror, and instead is swathed in violet light until he blinks it away. Fresh tears paint his face.

“C-Can you see it?” Leon whispers, trembling.

“More like... feel it...” Donnie confesses into the quiet between them. He looks away with a shrug. “But, I record everything so... after your first dream, I pulled up the file.”

“What?” Leo’s voice pitches high with alarm.

Did you watch??

Donatello looks back at him, calculating, and then nods.

“Why-- why did you watch that, Don?” His chest heaves with something between annoyance and betrayal, and he tries to shrink back from his twin. “I didn't want you to know... I didn't want a-anyone to know--”

So you wouldn’t be alone.

“What?”

With what happened.

“I'll erase the file if you want. Delete it, shred it-- corrupt the file so it can never ever see the light again,” Donatello speaks with a clear concise wrath , purple scales flickering with furious mystic energy for a split second. “Just like that monster .”

The angry response Leo was gearing up short circuits in his brain, and he stares. Donnie stares back, unblinking.

I can’t do the same here...

But whenever it comes back to you.

I’ll feel it.

And I’ll be here.

You won’t be alone with this.

At the silent promise, Donnie won’t look at him. He’s too busy studying and picking at the little pills on the sheets between them. Leo gawks in awed silence for long enough that Donatello starts to squirm. Then he whispers.

“What about you , Dee?”

Leo remembers the sickening slithering horror crawling within his twin’s dream and a shiver runs up both their shells simultaneously.

“You record everything right?” He gives him a tired, very small grin. Donnie glares at him and his silence is answer enough. Leon has the gall to laugh.

“ Curse your deductive skills, Nardo...”

But then Donatello takes a shuddering breath, eyes distant.

What It showed me though...

That’s only here.

Leo gets a flash of what he’s sure the future would be like if they had failed... if they yet fail. He begins to realize what has haunted his twin for days, what has urged him to struggle through the pain, and fatigue, and injury to reprogram miles of code, to bolster up defenses, to protect . He pushes past the dread sense of inescapable horror with the same defensive ferocity with which Don had dispelled his own bad visions.

You won’t be alone with this either.

Whenever It comes back...

I’ll be here too.

Don watches him quietly with the same pensive stare he gets whenever he’s solving a puzzle. When he finally finds his voice again, he doesn’t ask a question, he offers a conclusion as he taps lightly over his plastron.

“You’ve always been here, haven’t you...”

Leo’s heart skips a beat, and his heart monitor blips out of rhythm in protest. The answer gets caught in his throat, and he can barely breathe around the hope swarming around his heart.

“So... how would you rate my ability to finally accept that you were right about us all along?” Donnie asks.

“Huh?”

“That we are, in fact, twins ... have been all this whole time,” Donnie blows out a long breath of defeated acceptance, looking flatly at Leo as he continues, “Very unsatisfying, very very unsatisfying, wish Donnie were less of a dum dum sooner --”

“Satisfying. The most satisfying ‘I told you so’ in all of existence,” Leo croaks, shuffling close again to bonk their heads together gently, “To the scale of infinity squared--”

“Technically ‘infinity’ constitutes all numbers, so you cannot multiply it or--”

“Shut up , Donnie, please let me have this...”

Donatello sticks his tongue out between his teeth and bites it with an irritated chirp, and that’s as much of a concession as he’s going to get from his twin.

Leonardo feels somewhere deep in his soul, like he has had this conversation before. In another place, in a forgotten time, but the pieces don’t line up quite the same, like the image shifted midway in the making somehow from despair to hope. All he can do is blink in confusion, and let the unexpected tears that have sprung forth fall. He is so over how much his tear ducts keep betraying him today.

He grasps his twin’s hand once more, overwhelmed with the sense of déjà vu. When Donnie does not pull away, rather grasps back, he knows his twin feels it too. Leo allows Don to enjoy the peace they’ve found between their connection for exactly three minutes and eighteen seconds.

Wait... so are we mind melding?

No. This is strictly a Twin Thing, open parenthesis trademark close parenthesis.

I’m pretty sure we’ve at least talked like this with Raph and Mikey during fights.

Well, I don’t feel their feelings, thank Hawking. And as for speaking, we could probably do it first . We just... never tried...

Leo grins slowly.

Shut. Up.

I haven’t said anything.

You’re literally THINKING it.

Am not.

Nardo, you’re ruining the moment!

C’mon Donbon, you know it’s not a moment unless I do...

And Leo laughs through his tears, squeezing his twin’s hand tightly, extending the warmth he feels inside to surround his twin, because despite everything he's not brave enough to say it aloud. And his twin--

Donnie squeezes his hand back just as tight, smiling small and lopsided as tears roll down his face too. Warmth surrounds Leo in return, and that tells him everything he needs to know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: I have.... so much more in my brain that did not fit into the context of this fic. So I will continue with this universe via the other brothers’ stories. I have spent way too many hours crying over these turtle children to stop at this story alone. Please come along on the journey with me if you liked this story. Thank you to all the beautiful commenters and especially those who cried with me in the last chapter. Thank you for feeling these feels with me. Much love~💜💙💖🧡

Donnie and the bros using sign language inspo was derived from so many incredible artists, but my main influence was HappyFoxx-art's Aftermath comic. This also inspired my thought process on how severe the boys' injuries might actually have been and got a lot of my wheels turning on what recovery might look like for them. Shout out to all authors/artists juggling aftermath stories or arcs because holy bajeebus handling that many characters in one setting is challenging.

If anyone is interested in some cutting room floor talk, feel free to ask me questions here or on my tumblr. Thank you all!

#rottmnt #disaster twins #rottmnt fic #tmnt fic #brotherly bonding #family feels #hurt/comfort #angst #fanfic #not tcest #just in case that needs to be clarified #minu loves tmnt #series: wish we had just a little more time...#sticky

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