#and yet people are still 'raphael i can understand'

[fireheartedpup]

I'm pretty over the reaction some people have to the fact that certain fans like Cazador.

Some people like villains. Not your business, not your problem. Move on.

[hotheadedhero]

In Unrequited Love

Love and relationships can't be forced but sometimes they can be built on common ground and an understanding of one another's tribulations.

Part 2 here

Donatello x Reader

Having a crush on someone sucks. Having a crush on someone who has eyes for someone else sucks even more. This is the sad truth of your current circumstances. You knew that high school would come with its challenges but you weren’t prepared for the fact that you’d fall for the careless, hockey-loving maniac from your math class. It began with a casual friendship before feelings deepened on your end. Feelings that wouldn’t seem so terrible were it not for April O’Neil. You have absolutely nothing against the girl but it’s clear as day that she unfortunately has Casey’s heart in her stronghold. It’s not like you could even vent these frustrations, given that the only friends you have happen to be those two people. 

Then, through some shenanigans that seem like the norm for you now, you meet four turtle brothers - one of whom is in the same boat as you. Not to mention, between the very two friends in question. Were it not heartbreaking to witness each other trying your hardest to grab the attention of your crushes, you’d find some humour in this.

You tried hanging out with Raphael more in an attempt to get in close quarters with Casey, seeing as they’re practically tied at the hip, only for you to realise that the rough-and-tumble environment isn’t your strong suit. That’s when they both suggested you try your hand at assisting Donatello in his laboratory given your aptitude for the sciences. What they failed to realise is that you do well in class but that doesn’t inherently mean you enjoy it. Theoretical sciences and learning about how things work are interesting but there aren’t enough practical applications that allow you to engage in the school environment. The closest you’ve gotten to having fun was when you made “elephant toothpaste” for a chemistry lesson but that’s about it. 

Nonetheless, you see no harm in passing by the lab and giving the brainiac brothers a visit. Other than your not-so-subtle pining towards the other humans in the group, nothing has been outwardly mentioned about the situation you are both in. Neither of you has hung out enough to have that conversation. It wouldn’t be weird to talk about it, would it? A query that shall not yet receive an answer seeing as you’ve already knocked on the large, metal door. You walk through the open garage to see a couple of legs poking out from under the battle shell. 

“Huh? Oh! (Y/n), sorry- Ow!” He slides out from beneath the vehicle and rubs the fresh bruise forming on his head. “Sorry, I’m a little busy, right now. I think Leo is watching Space Heroes if you’re looking for someone to hang out with, though.”

“Actually, I came by to see if you needed any help,” you offer, holding your hands behind your back respectfully whilst also trying not to laugh. 

His eyes widen, having not expected such a proposal, and he’s quick to scramble to his feet.  “Oh, okay! Let’s see- uh… how are you with engine repairs?”

“Depends.” Your tongue clicks contemplatively. “Is it gas, electric, or hybrid?”

“That already tells me you know more than enough,” he chuckles. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He opens the hood of the van to reveal the ensemble of burnt-out parts and overworked mechanisms. The guys’ last mission must have been intense because this engine is almost in complete disarray. Were it not for the fact that your Uncle is a mechanic, you’d be sweating under the pressure of somehow ruining this heap of metal more than it already is. A probability still if you want to jinx your person but that’s getting ahead of yourself. 

Donatello gestures towards a box of spare parts and holds the back of his neck. “These just need to be taken out and replaced. It’s probably the easiest of what needs doing but I also need to finish rewiring the brakes, check the throttle calibration, replenish the weapons ammunition-”

“You need an extra set of hands to get it done quicker,” you cut him off with a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

He bares a gap-toothed smile in response and nods before resuming his initial position beneath the vehicle to finish the brake wiring. This leaves you to begin on your assigned job. For starters, you’re glad that this is a case of piecemeal repair rather than a complete engine rebuild. You’d be out of your depth were that the case. You start by pulling the entire engine out via a hoist, assisted by a load levelling bar so that it doesn’t tilt at a funny angle. Then, you secure it onto a stand and glance over what you’re working with. The crankshaft, piston ring compressor, oil filter, and fan need the most attention, so you start with those first. Just to save the disturbance, you look into a few tutorials on your phone to make sure you’re doing it correctly. 

During this entire time, the two of you work on separate parts of the battle shell in silence, seemingly content with your tasks. By now, Donnie has moved on to tightening the wheels’ lug holes. Admittedly, you had been concerned about a lack of things to talk about but this is a nice settlement. It’s certainly the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while; something to keep you distracted from the quelling of your hopeless romantic attraction. Plus, you have this sense of relief from finally being able to work on something with your hands rather than straining your brain over textbooks and pop quizzes.

"Question,” he starts abruptly, keeping his eyes on the centre cap of the wheel. “What’s it you like so much about that cave mouth?"

First, you blink quickly to yourself, having not expected to get into the nitty gritty of it so soon. So much for being distracted but you can’t be mad. Curiosity isn’t something to be berated. Then, you find yourself snickering at the mildly degrading nickname. The question may appear brash but he’s puzzled by why April seems to like Casey so much. Hearing it from you might give him the insight he needs to turn the odds in his favour. He’ll take anything at this point. 

"I dunno. There's just this air to him that I like. He's an ass, I am well aware of that, but he's fun, you know?” you admit awkwardly. “Psh! Don't ask me to explain it. You can't really put that stuff into words." You squint down at him, lips poised mockingly. "What is it you like about April so much?"

He halts his own task and glances down at his hands, cheeks reddening as he thinks about the girl of his dreams. "She just... had my heart from the first moment I saw her."

"Wow. The first girl you ever see in your life and it's just like that.” Yes, that bit of information is known thanks to our dear Raphael. “'Pretty shallow to fall in love with someone based on looks if you ask me." 

"You would know,” he scoffs sarcastically.

"Now you're calling Casey ugly?” you ask, both playful and moderately offended on your crush’s behalf. “Man, you really don't like him."

"I’m sure the same goes for you with April!"

"Hey! I don't stoop so low into my dissatisfaction of the circumstances to insult her." A wry grin then beckons your lips. "Although~"

"Whatever you think you're going to say, don't."

The staring match doesn't last long, breaking beneath a shared laugh; fond and unwilted by the ache in your hearts, which has been forgotten for a split moment to enjoy each other's company.

From that point on, that’s precisely what you did. More often than not, you found yourself in the confines of his garage, assisting him with the occasional doohickey and thingymabob. Even if there wasn’t much you could help with, you wound up being a decent lab partner in any case. In turn, he would offer to help you with your homework if you had any particularly difficult assignments. Your grades have never looked so good. When neither of you were doing that, you’d simply hang out and rant about little annoyances with your unreciprocated infatuations. 

“I mean, I try some jokes here and there but nothing seems to land,” he concedes begrudgingly, throwing his body weight into the back of his chair.

“Can I hear one?” you inquire as you gently swing around in your own seat. 

His lips press together and he mulls it over before sighing, “Okay, so, you remember how I told you about Metal Head?” You nod, to which he continues, “Well, the first time I took him out for a spin, we were on watch duty together. That’s when I asked her if she likes metal.”

He groans to himself as he replays the memory in his head, only now realising how corny that must have sounded at the time. However, you laugh and not the heckling kind either. Your head tilts back into your chair, knees lifting to compensate for the tension in your shaking stomach. How could April have not loved something as precious as that? The girl must be crazy because that would have worked on you in a heartbeat. 

“You should’ve asked if her favourite dance move is the robot,” you say in between laughs. “No, wait, wait! I got a better one! Ask her out to the circuits for a date!”

Donatello can only smile at your self-induced amusement, happy that there’s an appreciation for nerdy pickup lines and puns. They may not work on his crush - and his brothers sure don’t find them that funny - but he’s glad at least one person around here gets it. 

It felt good to know that you had a friend you could be closer to because of your mutual understanding. For the first time since you realised your feelings for your schoolmate, you didn’t feel so alone. This bond formed on cluttered affection may have seemed unlikely to begin with but who are you to complain now? You and Donnie have a good thing going given your positions. 

That is until your heart diverts its attention towards the very turtle. 

You came to the realisation when he expressed his excitement in showing you his newest invention. The fact that he had called upon you first made you feel special. It made you feel wanted and desired for the first time in your life. A seemingly small phenomenon given how he merely wanted to showcase something to you but the way it had tugged your heart was unparalleled to anything else you had ever experienced - and that smile. You could have happily fawned over that proud grin of proclaimed accomplishment and self-justified pride for the rest of that day. Then, it all came crashing down on you like heaps of scrap in a junkyard. You have fallen for someone who is in love with April. Again. Are you just doomed to fall for any man that crushes this girl? This must be some sick joke. One that you don’t find yourself laughing at. 

It eats away at you for the days - weeks - to come. You can’t console anyone on the matter, either. If any of his family catches wind, there’s a chance of him finding out. An outcome you wish to avoid if possible. As for Casey and April, dear lord you don’t even want to know what would happen if you told them. You’re at square one again just as before: crushing on someone who will never feel the same way about you. Rotting in a pool of your self-made disillusion.

Alone.

Having a crush on someone sucks.

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc, anthony bridgerton x ofc (platonic)

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

ix. nine: need your love

loraine did not sleep a wink at all. writing only a quarter of the piece for her father yet, she was too tired to lift her fingers anymore. it was a surprise that the family did not ask her about playing the piano last night. they must have missed the way she slammed her fingers on it. that or they chose to be silent about it, respecting the girl's sorrows.

when the sun showed up, the bridgertons coming down one by one, she simply pretended she woke up earlier than them as they crossed each other on the stairs on her way to freshen up.

after they have all done their individual activities and had breakfast together, lady bridgerton ushered her children in the drawing room. the young silva had told her yesterday that she wishes to inform the others too, if it was okay with her. she believed that they deserve to know as well, considering they had their moments with her father too.

"why are we gathered here?" eloise asked, noting the expressions of the people who already know.

violet lightly coughed to compose herself and get their attention, "we have something to tell you all, eloise."

she turned to the young silva, gesturing for her to continue. the girl nodded, pausing to herself and thinking the right words to say. but there really was no easy way to say it, is there? the person they once loved is dead. there is no way around it.

"my father has passed."

she uttered in one breath, the second daughter walking to her at once with a quiver, "oh, raine."

violet's lips formed a thin line as she turned to her other kids, "armand's death is a complex situation, so i ask you all to not let the news leave this home."

her two youngest nodded forlornly as francesca was the only one who found her voice despite the news, "of course, mama."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the three people in the center of this battle settled in anthony's study once again. it has been their office, the only place they can plan with no worry of listeners.

"we must plan our course of action." anthony voiced with tenacity in his eyes.

the lady turned to him as she took a sit on the couch, "we, anthony? no, you are not involving yourself on this."

he regarded the silva in a scolding tone, "there is no need for you to go through this alone. we can help. we can ask lady danbury, the duke of hastings—they will be willing to help."

she could understand his earnestness to be of any form of aid to her. her family was there for him all those hard times before. but this one, she was adamant to let him stay out of this.

"i am not involving civilians in this, anthony. if i could, i will not even involve father's soldiers."

raphael turned to her at the mention, the look of disagreement clear on his features, "raine, with the general gone, we are all at your disposal."

"and this is me saying i will not dispose of you all!" she looked at him directly in the eyes with firmness, placing no room for arguments. the young silva's voice has never been so clear and intact than that.

their heated exchange was interrupted when a knock on the door resonated in the room. major thorpe informed them of his presence before the viscount responded for him to enter.

the soldier acknowledged the two men before going straight to the girl, passing her a letter with the highest legislature's seal. she opened it with unfavorable feeling as gilbert stepped back and out of the room.

raine slowly stood up, eyes still on the paper as raphael walked to her and peered at the paper. his breath hitched at the contents he read, turning away as he raised his head with closed eyes in defeat. the girl dropped her arm hopelessly.

"the parliament has called for our presence."

anthony shut his eyes closed at that. now that the higher government is involving themselves, it will be much harder to find a way out. raine continued in disbelief, "tomorrow afternoon."

"it will be my death." the colonel stated, acceptance and denial mixed in his tone.

"i will go alone." she declared firmly to him once again.

raphael wanted to scoff but he could not bring himself to do so at the graveness of their situation, "absence is punishable for high treason. i am dead either way."

"they have figured we know." she said in realisation, ignoring the former's disagreement of her idea.

the government knowing that they now know of the crown's atrocities to its own people is the most terrible thing that could happen in their current position. they are being left with almost no move or strategy to execute.

"you cannot go." the viscount expressed his thoughts, "there will be a ball tonight. you can attend and we can use it in our advantage to get the ton on our side."

she really appreciated the fact that anthony was so invested in helping them get out of this, but there was simply things that are hard to get out of. she let out an exasperated sigh as she ran her fingers between her hair, muttering to herself, "how did things turn to this?"

raine wanted to tear her hair so much, punch someone, or run yards away. she badly wanted to release the tension that has been building up in her for days, and now this on top of that.

she looked at anthony, "i will not go to the ball, but you must. your absence will reach them and they will link you to use, extending the target to you and your family."

the girl was trying to control her breathing. one problem at a time. she chanted to her head, but fate had other plans. because just after she is trying to deal with one, another came in the form of a newspaper.

gilbert came in, not bothering with a knock this time as urgency in this one is much higher. he immediately handed her the newspaper, announcing the news himself.

"it is out, my lady. they have released the death of the general.

"what?!" raphael exclaimed in immense anger, head noticeably heating in fury.

raine read the headline with incredility in her tone, "they are claiming my father betrayed the crown."

in just a span of a single night, the government had managed to turn the story around. this is very disadvantageous for them. the government releasing what happened first would mean them getting the support of the people first. and the support of the people, no matter how uninformed, is a monstrous force.

raphael continued to read the contents of the column aloud, "they named us under suspicion as well as the rest of the troops."

raine passed the newspaper to him as she sat down in weariness, head casted down in deep thinking, "fuck, they have pushed us to a corner."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the bridgertons have already left for the ball tonight. loraine situated herself in her guest room, joined by raphael as they go through different ideas and strategies on what to do for tomorrow.

they needed a very good plan, or else no one is getting out alive. and so far, there has not been one good plan at all.

"we must parade then, on our way, to sway the people's favor." raine pitched, focusing on turning the people to them so that at the very least, the government could not do anything rash immediately.

the colonel clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he shook his head disapprovingly, "they will not be swayed by a single parade of traitors."

the two have been at this for hours now, their ideas getting more and more desparate as the time passes. he looked at her solemnly as he continued.

"you must understand, we are not under suspicion, raine. they have decided we are traitors and we will be written in history as such."

the young silva wanted to tell him otherwise. she wanted to tell the man that the life they have spent on defending the country would not go to waste—that their legacy would not be reduced to something as shameful as treason.

she bit her lips as she herself shook her head in worry, "we can at least try—put on theatrics so that we will at least leave alive after, no matter the sentence."

there was no way out, raphael knew. hence, he admired the girl for trying so hard to save him, to save the soldiers, to save herself.

he inhaled before throwing a pitch of his own, one he was sure the girl would strongly disagree, "we could play like i have taken you hostage as we exit. this way, you will be free of their suspicions."

she placed her pencil down harshly and turned to him, "while you take the fall? no!"

he sighed resignedly, leaning back on his chair, "stop trying to find a way for me to live. no one will believe i do not know anything about the general's plans."

the girl was about to respond, when he continued, "raine, what we should be planning for must be directed on ensuring that our story will not fall on deaf ears. there is no getting out of this unscathed. the thing we must fight for is the truth."

he pushed himself away from the table. he stood with a notable grief on his step, ruffling her hair childishly—the only little act that would bring them the smallest joy in this moment, "we can talk about it again in the morning."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the miserable planning earlier took a toll on her. even the room could not offer her any comfort. and so, she stood up and made her way to the balcony. perhaps, the fresh wind would greet her gently.

raine has been awake for two days straight now, and although she can clearly feel the exhaustion, she had no intention of sleeping. depending on how tomorrow goes, she might not even come out of it alive. there is no point in sleeping now if she will have an eternal one soon. and so, she would like to relish the little moments.

however, her peaceful silent conversation with the night is disrupted when a rushed sound of footsteps grew louder and louder, nearing her.

a certain second son appeared on the balcony.

benedict placed a hand on his chest as he bent down, catching his breath as cold sweat run through his features.

raine looked at him in confusion, "what are you doing here? is the ball done?"

"you must not go tomorrow."

he ordered pointedly as if a command as he stood up straight, chest still heaving deeply. the young silva scoffed at what he said, finding it utterly idiotic.

"i will not if i could."

he paused, trying to think of other things that could convince her, but he knew that she really could not. doing otherwise would mean execution. and so, he tried to calm himself, jumping to the other side and chose to comfort her this time.

"you will be okay. in truth, you really did not know anything about it in the first place." if she could not avoid it, then at the very least there would be not a lot to worry much, "you are not a traitor."

however, they should really worry—extremely. because everyone knows that when your enemy is the crown, there is almost no way to win the match.

"my father was not and look what they did."

"then you cannot go!" he exclaimed in distress and angst as he walked aimlessly near her.

"they know we are staying here, evidently by the letter." her voice began to increase in volume at the persistence of the man, "it is a form of intimidation. they will make you all traitors as they did to us, and i will not let that happen!"

"i will not let you go as well." he defeatedly respond, almost beggingly as he reached for her hands.

"you already have!" raine took her hands from his immediately, as if repulsed by his actions, "in the gardens two nights ago!"

"then i will not this time!"

benedict declared with striking determination, unwaveringly. he let breaths to come in between them before he continued in a softer manner, like an artist that does not know what to paint next.

"this urge to run away from what i love is a sort of sadism i will no longer pretend to understand."

raine wanted to slap him. to punch him. to shoot him. he dares to say such words in misleading context. she was right; he really was exhausting. she looked away, trying her earnest to not let the tears fall from her empty eyes before turning back to him.

"this has always been you, ben. you say one thing today and different the next. you never make up your mind."

"well, this is me." he offered with a gesture presenting himself, "i am here to make up my mind for the first time."

raine has heard it before, when her parents were sitting at the balcony. her father said, thank you for loving me when i still tasted of heartache and war. it was then she saw her mother crying and realised it can also be a form of happiness.

and she wanted to cry because of happiness at his reciprocation. but, she fears it was too late for that.

"is it fun for you to see me chasing and crawlimg for you? declaring my affections rejection after rejection?" she found her voice getting stronger once again, despising the way he acts as if their exchanges before can be simply shrugged by his presence now, "loving you has always been as easy as breathing, but tonight, i am gasping for air."

at her accusing tone, he could not stop himself from defending his person. unknowingly to him, his own voice were laced with malice as he retorted.

"that is because you surround yourself with fire, raine. despite the close proximity, i cannot cross." he took a step back, completely in contrast of his attacking words, "is it fun for you as well? to make a fool of me by the childish notions of your love."

raine gritted her teeth harshly at his words. she can accept his rejections, no problem. but to call her love fake? to call it childish? she stepped forwards to him, pushing his chest with her index finger, rage clear on her features against the good night.

"i am tired of explaining over and over again. just like the fire, my love for you burns!" she stopped the action, throwing her arm back harshly as she directed all her will to her voice, "it will always because it must!"

"and you think me not burned?" he stepped closer, ire and passion blending in his sharp voice, "raine, i am ablazed! its flames are scorching me day after day. you haunt me! your presence screams, even in my dreams—especially, in my dreams."

benedict looked at her piercingly in the eyes, "i dare not love you just as humans should dare not travel the stars. i am not worthy of such heavenly body."

he charmed, his voice gradually becoming smaller, trying to find the peace within him. he ran his fingers between his hair, looking away in utter shame of his words. he sighed heavily, opening his eyes to catch sight of her once again.

"i have seen you since you were an innocent young. i have been with you throughout everything." his voice small, like a child confessing his sins, "i have seen you grow into such a fine lady as you always were, even as a child."

the realisation of his words did not come to him, seemingly decided to divulge his side of ugliness and his twisted love—his deviant nature, all for her to see.

"does that not make your bones curl?! does that not disgust you enough?! for goodness' sake! the voice in my head is a monster, raine. he does not whisper. he has been screaming for me to do things—to grab you, to seize you, to put you under me. do you know how hard it is to drown him down?"

raine could do nothing but watch the man she has yearned for all her life reveal his innermost aberrant tendencies. it was a kind of undressing.

"i held lady arnold in my arms, her mouth exploring myself and all i can utter is your name, just as i have always done with other women. is that not sickening enough?"

he gazed at her beggingly, as if a cry for help—a cry for her to free him from whatever this is. he took a step back from her defeatedly, like a man afraid of touching what he loves in fear of it breaking.

"like the fire, i cannot touch you."

and at his final confession, she walked towards him, steps evident with striking determination and eyes filled with passion.

"then let me."

she took a hold of his collar and pulled him to her, their lips connecting desperately and mouth starving for each other. maybe, there was nothing more to say. perhaps, she has said everything.

his hands and lips moved in reflex, deepening the kiss as he pushed her back on the wall. she grasped on the back of his head as he lifted her leg, his lips brushing her ear as he settled on her jawline. his other hand explored her harshly, his mouth dangerously grazing her purity.

they took themselves away from the wall, lips longing for the other again as he guided her slowly inside, fighting for each other's taste. playing their aggressiveness in front of the door, he wasted no time in turning the knob, pushing themselves inside.

in contrary to what edgar allan poe said, years of love were not forgotten in the hatred of a minute. it was amplified.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @omy0 @idek-what-to-put

[imababblekat]

Delirium?

@lil-hun-bun​ , “Raph x fem!Reader where he's taking care of her because she's sick and they end up confessing their feelings for each other, perhaps?”

~xXx~

All it took was one word, and the red cladded ninja turtle was scaling across rooftops to your place of residence. Sick. That’s what you had texted him after rejecting his call to hang out. It had him notably concerned, as there had been times when even if you had a small cough you’d still at the very least enter a video chat with him. However, no interaction at all was very unlike you. 

Raphael did his best to conceal his racing thoughts, picking the lock on your window before making his way in. He couldn’t quite understand why he was so worried to begin with. It wasn’t like you were in the hospital or anything else of a more serious level. Part of him was actually quite irritated by the his fretful emotions. Not at you of course, more of what you seemed to do him lately. He’d never been this concerned over something so silly before. Even when one of his brothers or April would come down with a nasty cold, he’d just offer if they needed something from the store and leave it at that. In fact, in most cases he’d leave things to Donnie, unless it was said terrapin who had been ill. Yet when he’d received your message, the thought to ask Donnie or give his brother the heads up, didn’t even cross his mind. 

What was it about you in particular that made Raph of all people go out of his way, just by one simple text message? 

The answer had struck him when, after giving you a quick heads up to his presence, he entered your room to find you in an unsightly state, his heart dropping in his plated chest.

Across the room, snuggled under a pile of blankets and surrounded by tissues, you lay as pale as your sheets and covered in sweat like on a hot summer afternoon. The weakness in just lifting your head to peer over at the larger turtle and the croak in your voice had Raph’s heart strings tugged. 

“Raph? What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t even a second after finishing your question that you fell into a fit of coughs, and Raphael was quick to make his way to your beside, taking off and opening the small backpack he’d brought with him. Inside were bottles of water and multiple types of medicine he’d dumped in his rush to get to you.

“What da ya think? You don’t answer my call, send me a one worded text with no further explanation, and expect me to not show up?”

You gingerly reached for a water bottle he’d opened and offered you, sitting up as best you could to take a few sips and completely unware at Raph’s resistance to assist you. 

“To be honest, I would have expected Donnie, but you’re a nice surprise.”

Raph raised a brow ridge, sitting at your feet, the bed dipping with his weight and you’re feet resting against his thigh beneath the blankets.

“I’m not sure how to take that, so I choose to take it as a compliment.”

You giggled at his scowling face, eyes crinkling in the corner. Man, even when bed ridden, Raphael couldn’t deny the way you caused a light flutter of butterflies in his stomach. However, the sweet moment hadn’t lasted long when you suddenly erupted into another, heavier fit of coughs. Seeing you turn over to your side, nearly dropping and spilling the water in your hand had he’d not rushed to grab it for you with his quick reflexes, Raph felt a newfound type of panic.

“Hey, don’t go dyin on me now, doll. Tell me what I can do.”

His voice was softer than usual, you almost hadn’t heard him, but you did, and could just about feel the deep worriment dripping from each word. 

“Got any cough meds in that mystery bag of yours?”, you asked, laying back against your pillows, head pounding and body sore.

There was a minute of rummaging beside you, when your normally brutish friend procured a plastic bottle with red liquid within. 

“Um, I’ve got this?”

You took a peak, too tired to sit up again.

“Cough syrup. That’ll work.”

Raphael said nothing in reply, simply working to get the lid off and pour the heavy cherry smelling liquid into the small cup it came with. No words were spoken or asked, as a large hand, one usually so fierce had cradled and lifted your head with the upmost care and gentleness. Raph watched as you slurped down the cough syrup, cringing at the sickly gag you let out once finished, before just as gently resting your head back down against your pillow.

“Need anythin’ else?”, he questioned, hand resting on the dip of your side as you slowly rolled over to face him.

“Yeah.”, you mumbled, snuggling into your covers but keeping your gaze tiredly focused on his, “For you to know I mean it.”

A small chuckle left Raph’s beautiful lips.

“Mean what?”

“What I said earlier.”, you murmured, reaching a shaky hand from your covers to reach for the wrapped hand resting by your pillow. 

Even in such a weak state, the light caresses you made across Raphaels large hand was enough to cause his heart to skip a beat. He looked to the side, suddenly feeling pressure under your gaze, his cheeks tinting ever so lightly.

“Pfft, sure. You’re delirious.”

“Raphael.”

The full call of his name, as well as the light squeeze of his hand by your much smaller one, was enough to convince the ninja turtle to take a chance and look your way. Despite the bags under your exhausted eyes and the strands of hair sticking to your sweat clad face, you somehow managed to convey every bit of seriousness and truth to your next words.

“Why is me enjoying having you here instead of anyone else that unbelievable? You’re my closest friend. You know how much like being around you. . .how much I like you.”

The last words were said with your cheeks flushing a lovely red hue, and while you knew Raph was aware of the true cause, maybe, just maybe it could pass as due to being sick. Gently shaking your head, pushing aside the anxiousness in your own chest, you looked back up to offer a silent Raphael a gentle smile.

“And I’m not delirious.”, you reached up to gentle boop his nose. 

Raph grasped your hand in his, but didn’t release it as he had started to copy the same soothing motions you had done with his hand a little earlier. His heart felt so full. Just as you caused him to fret so much over a single worded text, only you could make his heart do ninja flips while looking like the plague. Honestly, that somehow made him even more fond of you. Just like all those times you had gone out of your way to care for him, a mutant turtle who people only saw as a burly ball of anger and furry. Perhaps those times of your unique kindness towards him was also why he’d go out of his way to care for you in this moment as opposed to how he would for anyone else. 

Maneuvering your hand, Raphael turned his face ever so slightly to place his lips softly against your palm, the feeling of a chaste kiss being left there as he spoke.

“Yah, I know, doll.”

~xXx~

[myers-meadow]

Foolish Gratitude (Rolan x Tav)

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Summary: After you saved Rolan from the shadow people, his mood worsens. It's up to you to make him feel better. AKA Rolan hatefucks you <3

Warnings: smut, 18 +, dub-con, penetration, (mild) spanking, degrading language, fem Tav (she/her and vulva used), submissive tav, no aftercare shown in the fic, no discussion of kinks or consent, Tav is into it though ^^.

Word count: 1767

This is my first ever foray into writing Rolan 💞✨, please be nice. Reblogs and comments are very appreciated (please feed my brainrot i beg). Proofread by the very kind @gauntermetaverse - thank you! Divider by saradika-graphics.

Rolan is taking his loss hard. After that drunk night, he turns mean - doubly so after you save him from the darkness the next day.

The Last Light Inn is pleasant tonight. There's some gossip, some small hopes and dreams shared at a table, and some tears. At least there is still warm soup, you think to yourself as you sit down at a small table with a bowl full. It warms you in just the way you need it to. The rest of your companions are around, resting, playing board games, reading. Lae'zel is armwrestling whomever dares. Gale is talking to Halsin about the nature of the shadow curse. A quiet evening. Your bowl is empty, and you stand to return it to the bar.

"There we have her; our beloved hero," It could've been Raphael if it wasn't for the cruel sarcasm dripping from his every word. Rolan. "Come to the inn to gloat? To rub it into my face how much better you are?"

He's not even that drunk, but his anger is something fierce. In the past, you were understanding, kind. The man has been going through a lot. But now... Even you are losing patience in the face of his barbed words.

"Rolan," You start, your tone soft, not wanting this to escalate. "I know you're-"

He cuts you off. "No, you don't know. But I have something better in mind."

He grabs you by the fabric over your shoulder - you're in your camp clothes, no armour to protect you here - and drags you past the bar. All the while, he's hissing things at you like a cat who had her pride hurt.

To avoid escalation, you follow him willingly. Then, the door of a small food supply closet shuts and the lock clicks shut. The key clatters against the ground as Rolan drops it over his shoulder.

"A hero who doesn't know her place, that won't do..." He muses as he stands over you. A cruel smile licks at the corners of his mouth. "How fortunate I've always been a good teacher."

His tone is startling. He doesn't even seem drunk. "Rolan, that’s-" 

He clamps a hand over your mouth. He's so close that you feel his breath on your cheek as he turns your head to the side. He breathes deep. "You think you can solve everything." The grip on your cheeks is hard enough to make you feel he's gonna leave a bruise.

Your muffled sounds go ignored. Rolan chuckles, and it sends a weird tingling sensation through your lower belly.

"You're gonna have to be quiet for this lesson," He says, and with a dizzying movement, he turns you to face the wall. A warm hand gropes at your ass, through the thin fabric of that cute skirt you found in a chest at Sharess' Caress. His nails dig in. How good it feels, startles you. None too gently, he bends you over - still keeping his hand over your mouth.

"You're nothing more than any other adventurer in this inn. Yet you think you're owed all this gratitude, all this praise..." His voice curls meanly at the end. "You need to learn. To really feel where you belong." 

In his groping, he moves your skirt up and tucks in the waistband so it stays. The first slap, hard, short, without warning, has you twist against his hold, and with a muffled shout to match.

Rolan tuts. "Now, hero, is that how you take a little spanking? I would've thought you could take more. This is a disappointment, really."

The second slap lands on your other asscheek, just as stinging as the first. The third deepens the sensation. You don't struggle out of his hold, instead, you lean into it. After the fourth, he soothes your sore bum with strokes of his hand. That's far from the end, though. A fifth, a sixth, the heat increases, the stinging takes longer to leave after each slap. Seventh, eight, and you lose count. His speed increases, and your shouts of pain turn to whimpers as he tires you out.

He seems barely out of breath as he speaks again. "And that is the hero against the Absolute. Pathetic. Look at you. Whimpering after just a few meager slaps." Another sharp one lands, your whiny moan of pain punctuating his words. You're not sure you're hearing it right through the ringing in your ear, but it almost sounds like he moaned.

His hand lets go of your face, instead he pushes two fingers in your mouth. "If you can barely take a spanking, I'm not sure how you'll take this, but you owe me more than some pain."

The nails dig into your tongue, but you wet his fingers a bit too eagerly. "You want to help others, right? To serve them. You'll call me 'master', understood?"

You nod, but it's not enough. He jerks your head to the side by the fingers now hooked in your cheek.

"Yes," you manage to get out.

"Yes, what?" he grits his teeth. Another slap on your ass that feels like it's on fire.

"Yes, master." After you said it, you sigh in something close to relief that comes from the depths of your chest.

"Good. Finally you're beginning to understand." He lets go of your face fully, leaving you to feel cold without his touch. He tugs at the straps of your underwear, and the sound of fabric shifting emphasises the tension in your body. There was no way Rolan could've known your submissive streak, he really just needs to get all this pent up frustration out - somehow his wordless confidence and the lack of care for whether you enjoy it or not turns you on more. It's a primal feeling, that only very few people can unlock from within you. Exhilarating.

Something nudges between your legs, and with a start, you realise it's his cock. Even though you'd hoped this is where it was headed, had pined for him night after night, experiencing the real thing was so much more raw and real than you ever envisioned. He presses inside with little care for your comfort. It surprises you how smooth it goes in, even with you already dripping wet, it's still quite the stretch. His groan of pleasure is the most sinful thing you've ever heard.

His lips are at your ear, his tone changed completely to before. "Aren't you just good and wet for me? Filthy little slut."

Finally, his cock hits home somewhere deep inside, and the drag as he moves out is even better. "Gods, I needed this."

You can tell how much he needed this by how he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. His horn bumps into your cheek, as he bites your bare shoulder. As slow as he went before, he seems to lose all control and sets a messy pace, slipping out and forcing himself back in again and again. The sounds of your slick and skin slapping skin are disgusting.

"Perhaps you have some redeeming qualities yet," he says, his playful tone returning as he relaxes. His grip around your torso is crushingly tight and you try to reach down to touch your clit, whining as he won't let you. "Na-ah, your first lesson isn't even done yet, you naughty girl."

Rolan fucks you roughly, his horn keeps bumping into you but neither of you mind. Every time he thrusts in, it draws attention to your sore ass, its small edge of pain only heightens the pleasure. His groans and moans are delicious. You angle your hips to make him hit deeper and he delivers, with a bruising pace. 

“Who knew the hero would be such a good little slut? Fuck, you feel amazing.”

“Rolan,” you moan, pressing your lips against his cheek. 

As much as you imagined fucking him as intense, your fantasies are nothing compared to the real thing. You moan something high-pitched as he hits just right, dragging his tip back and forth against the most sensitive parts of you. The feeling builds quickly, even without being able to touch yourself, and your breath is catching as the pleasure of being filled transcends all. 

His thrusts stutter, and although it takes great effort, he pulls out, and whirls you around. Surprised, but altogether too overwhelmed to resist him. He tugs you down to your knees. Your core throbs, yearning for him, but it’s your lips that now enjoy the taste of him. He’s salty, and you taste your own wetness on his length as he pushes himself into your mouth. When you gag, he grabs a fistful of hair, and prevents you from leaning away. No choice but to take all of him as he pumps himself in and out. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth as you try your best to please him. His groans are delightfully filthy, heavy with all his pent up emotion. Your own desire makes you light-headed. As soon as your hand darts down to your core, Rolan slaps them away. 

“What did I say? No touching.” He’s just as stern as a school teacher. Your core throbs around nothing. He groans as he makes you gag, “The others should see you now, on your knees, doing so well to please your superior.”

His grip on your hair tightens to something uncomfortable. “This just shows what can become of the high and mighty hero - ah, fuck - who amounts to nothing good without proper guidance.”

His thrusts grow sloppy, yet deep, so deep, fuck you need him inside of you so bad - he moans and pulls out. Ropes of cum land on your face, some on your tongue, or across your chest. You twitch as several flecks get in your lashes. Rolan looks so proud, smiling down on you like this, so pleased. A sense of satisfaction swells in your chest, even as you still tingle with ghosts of his touch, longing to be sated. 

Rolan bites his lip. “Such a good hero, really willing to go the extra mile for those in need…” He considers you for a moment, tracing a finger over your face. “I’m sure this is the best reward you’ve ever gotten, dear hero.” 

You’re not sure whether the curl of his lip is playful or contemptuous. After collecting enough cum on his finger, he presses it to your lips, for you to clean off for him. 

Despite, or because, of his mean expression, you say just what he wants you to say: “Thank you, master.”

[weavebitch]

Lord Enver Gortash: Dearest Karlach. I'd busy myself finding Orin if I were you. I'll still be here for any unfinished business, once you've secured your camp.

Karlach: That's it? That's all you have to say to me?

Lord Enver Gortash: Were you hoping for something else? A word of wisdom? A hug?

Karlach: Thanks to you, I don't hope for things anymore. I just take whatever it is I want. See you soon, motherfucker.

Lord Enver Gortash: You most certainly will.

---

Here's the thing: You can't tell me he wasn't at least a little proud of her in that moment.

What he had to endure in the hells when he was growing up made him into the person he is -- ruthless, merciless, and powerful. He is undoubtedly proud to be where he is in life. He condemns his parents for what they did to him, but he would have enough reason to do that even if they didn't sell him to Raphael.

However awful Avernus was, it brought him in a position where he is a) not poor anymore, b) extremely influential, and c) basically free to do what he likes. He wouldn't be there if his parents hadn't given him away -- in his eyes that might have been the only thing they ever did right.

And then he meets Karlach, a teenager who's growing up in the wrong part of Baldur's Gate, who reminds him of his younger self a little: clever (though in a different way), headstrong, resilient. She can be shaped just like him, she just needs a guiding hand and a chance to prove herself.

So when Zariel asks if he has a guinea pig for her, someone who is strong enough to endure being turned into a living weapon, it's perfect. It's a win/win situation. He gets whatever he wants from Zariel, Zariel gets what she wants from him, Karlach gets what will be good for her eventually, even if she doesn't understand it yet.

It's an act of affection in his eyes: I'm giving you a chance. You can have so much more power than you ever imagined, you just have to prove yourself first and then take it. I'm sure you can do it. And so she goes against her will, and is lucky enough to get out a decade later, and she comes to him and she proves him right.

She is angry and not afraid to show it. Her burning heart is a marvelous piece of technology and a powerful weapon. She is hardened, she is ruthless, she is used to doing what she has to do without second thoughts. There is nothing left of her adolecent insecurities and soft edges. She doesn't rely on people anymore. She has lost her naïveté. She doesn't hope anymore, instead she takes. And Gortash's plan worked just as he thought it would.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Power

Thank you @dansnotavampire for this delicious prompt! TW blood.

‘Your Grace,’ whispered a wretched shade, forming and breaking as it spoke. ‘The king returns. Will you allow me to open the way? Please?’ The thing cowered, once a tiefling man and now simply smoke. He gazed up at the woman on the throne high above with fear and adoration, a beaten dog. Tav met his eye and he held her gaze, trembling.

‘No,’ she said softly. ‘Let him walk.’

‘As you wish Your Radiance.’ He scurried off. The other shades raised their voices in a chorus, the rustle of wind, tiny spots of cold in the oppressive heat.

Tav waited, listening. The throne room was empty, the House void of any living thing save herself and Haarlep, who curled into her at night and now sat quietly with his cheek pressed to her thigh. He was here to keep her husband in line, not her. A telltale roar from outside, the scream of a tormeted soul, and the doors banged open.

She knew the walk was long. He seemed so far away from up here on the throne, a figment of her imagination. And yet as he moved into the room with its sumptuous velvet and glittering gold and infernal marble warm like a body to the touch, he became real, and realer still. Brimstone hit her nose first, so concentrated it was sickly sweet, the musk and cherries barely masking it. She’d almost forgotten, but her head swam with it, made her turn away.

‘Beloved,’ she said flatly as he surged towards her, face twisted in a snarl. ‘It’s been a long time.’

‘You would have me walk?’ he hissed, trembling with fury. ‘In my own house? My darling little mouse, you-’

Her gaze fixed on him then, hot and vengeful as a lightning strike. ‘Be quiet.’ Beside her, Haarlep held his breath.

‘You would dare,’ Raphael whispered, ‘to order me? I, who brought you here in good faith, fed you from my table, allowed you to share my bed, you- spiteful child, you would dare-’

Her lips pulled back in a sneer. ‘I am no child. I am your queen. Your wife. And you left me to fight your stupid, suicidal war.’

‘And you would take the incubus,’ he said, voice scathing as he gestured to Haarlep. ‘I suppose you didn’t even wait until my side of the bed was cold, did you, Your Grace?’

‘Of course not,’ she said, scoffing. ‘You treated the poor thing terribly and made him do all the work.’ She leaned forward, back straight, smiled a thin, mirthless smile. ‘The house is mine now, Raphael. Your subjects mine. The gift your father gave you, mine.’ Haarlep purred in agreement, a wicked little smirk on his lips. ‘You should not have come back.’ She stood, descended the stairs, watched the devil stand straighter even as he glowered down at her. ‘Something you’ll never understand is that they love me. Sometimes they look at me the way they looked at you and it makes my stomach turn because they are afraid. But they’re my people now. You lost your right to that seat-’ she gestured upwards, ‘-the moment you left on your absurd quest. All I can say to you is good luck, if you think the God of Ambition will allow you to steal from him.’

‘And who made him so?’ Raphael growled, clawed hands gripping her shoulders, eyes burning with longing and anger. ‘You, beguiling vixen, you created him. Our own enemy. If you had simply told the boy to kneel to his goddess, none of us would be in this mess!’

‘You chose to leave!’ she snapped, baring her teeth. ‘We could have been a united front, faced everything that came at us, but your selfishness knows no bounds.’ She pushed at him but he did not budge, towering over her. He dug in his claws, nostrils flaring in anger.

‘My selfishness,’ he hissed, ‘is why you are here, and not washed up on the docks in Baldur’s Gate, blown to pieces by a fucking Netherbrain! Perhaps I should have left you on the mortal plane! You would have come back here anyway, a little lost soul, to call me Master! Yet here you are!’

She lunged with a cry of rage, the sharp slap of her open hand sending him reeling back in shock, infernal eyes wide. She crouched, hands curled as though she had claws, a feral howl ripped from her throat. ‘ENOUGH!’ She was tiny compared to him, fragile, her nails and teeth blunt, and yet in this moment she felt a surge of power such as she’d never had.

There was fear in his eyes.

‘That word will never leave my mouth.’ Tav stepped back, conceded ground, but Haarlep rose behind her, bolstering warmth at her back, his tail curling soothingly- and possessively- around her ankle.

‘Your Grace,’ he said, voice silky, ‘do you want me to get rid of him?’

‘No,’ she said, not taking her eyes off her husband. ‘You’re king of this realm, are you not?’ He narrowed his eyes, swished his tail like an angry cat. ‘Answer me.’

‘I am.’ His jaw clenched. ‘Though you have made yourself quite comfortable in my seat, my dear.’

‘Someone had to rule.’ The retort was venomous, meant to wound. ‘You will not remove me.’

‘Oh?’ He was amused now, grinning with fangs on full display. ‘It was hardly a fair conquest. You stole it when my back was turned.’

‘Come and get it, then,’ she said boldly. ‘If you’re no coward.’

He stalked forward, eyes dancing with malice and mirth. Ah. He thinks he’s in control. ‘You’ve had your fun, little mouse.’ His voice held a dangerous lull, too soft. ‘Come here. All is forgiven.’

‘Oh, that’s cute! You think I’m the one who needs forgiveness! Are you insane?’ Tav drew a blade from within the folds of her dress, flipped it in her hand, hissed. ‘You should be on your hands and knees begging me Raphael.’

He hesitated, the smile dropping from his face. ‘Insolent pup, you’re actually serious.’

‘Queen. Do as I say.’ Haarlep’s tail tightened around her ankle; he was enjoying this.

Raphael was at war with himself, clearly; his tail swished angrily, but his eyes bore into her with pure lust, and he almost looked proud. He smirked, holding onto any semblance of control he could, and pressed his palms and knees to the infernal marble, wings folded neatly over his back, eyes locked to hers, waiting. ‘Well?’ he said smoothly. ‘Your enemy is defeated. Press your advantage.’

She could’ve done. But that would have meant going to him, and that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, in the most commanding voice she could muster, she said, ‘crawl to me.’

And he did. Slowly, without taking his eyes off her, he crawled to her feet, leaned onto his haunches and gazed up at her with such false innocence a flush of heat swept through her and she broke out in a sweat. ‘What next?’ He was enjoying this. She realised with a jolt he would’ve done this plenty of times, because of-

‘Oh, Your Grace you’re having so much fun… may I?’ Haarlep leaned over her shoulder, lips inches from her ear. ‘I would hate for the king to take all the spoils of war…’

Raphael looked down, seemingly fighting with himself. She could hear him taking steady breaths, claws kneading his thighs.

Tav shivered, felt the incubus close his teeth on her ear. But there was still the devil at her feet; she couldn’t show weakness. Reaching out with the dagger in her hand, she placed it under his chin. ‘Eyes on me,’ she said softly. His eyes blazed, claws digging into his skin, but he obeyed. He tensed, showed his fangs and got his feet under him, readying to pounce. He would, she thought, if I let my guard down.

‘What’s the matter, little mouse?’ he whispered. ‘Feeling a little in over your head?’

She growled, pressed the dagger to his skin. Beads of blood formed and trickled downward, slipping beneath his clothes. Haarlep pulled with his tail at her ankle, bringing her off balance, his arms snaking around her to take her weight.

And trap her there.

‘Haarlep. Whose side are you on?’

‘Oh, yours my queen, always yours. You seem a little tense. Perhaps you’d like to relax?’ He pawed at her breasts through her dress, kissed the pulse in her neck. She did not take her eyes off the devil, who licked his lips.

‘Put in the effort for once,’ she croaked, dropping the blade. He leapt for her, catching her by the hips and rucking her dress around her waist, his claws digging into the softness of her thighs. Blood welled, coursed slowly across her skin, and she yelped in surprise at the heat of his tongue lapping it up. He groaned, vibrating through her, pulled her forward to his tongue and teeth as he bit at the inner thigh, sucked a bruise there, fucking laughed when she moaned in response. The incubus hardly helped; he tore at the fabric of her dress, wrenching it from her shoulders and biting. He was pulling at her, the devil snarling at the competition. She had to wrest back control somehow. Reaching down, she grabbed a fistful of Raphael’s hair and pulled hard, hoping against hope that her resolve would not slip entirely.

‘As the conqueror commands.’ He was toying with her even now, even as his mouth closed around her clit and his claws raked her thighs, as he hummed into her core and shook with amusement as she jolted back in Haarlep’s embrace.

‘Patience little thief.’ The incubus gripped the back of her neck, turning her head to kiss her deeply, his tongue hot in her mouth, saliva sweet and heady. Heat bloomed again in her belly, gathered at the apex of her thighs, only made more intense by the infernal creature between them. She curled small hands around his horns, trying not to melt into a puddle on the spot. Haarlep pinched a nipple between two claws to bring her attention back to him and she gasped into his mouth.

‘You little wanton whore,’ said Raphael, breaking away to glare up at her. ‘Let go of him and cry for me.’

‘No.’ Tav turned, tried to ignore Haarlep at her throat. ‘No, I’ll do as I please. I- ah!’ She cried out as the devil returned to his ministrations with renewed vigour and aggression, sending her close to the edge- and stopping. ‘No, don’t,’ she whined, digging her nails into his scalp. ‘Keep going! I fucking command you to!’ He hummed against her but acquiesced, sending her crashing into orgasm, lightheaded from its force.

Haarlep ground against her, impatient. Raphael seemed to take pity, snapping his fingers- their clothes vanished into fire and ash, and the incubus wasted no time in taking her, thrusting into her body with the ease of many times before, his fingers shoving roughly into her mouth to stifle her cries. Raphael rose to his feet, watching her face contort as the incubus fucked into her at a near brutal pace, never seeming to tire. He could feel it, of course. The echoes of touch in his own body. She bit at the incubus’s fingers, laughed as he yelped and withdrew.

And then she pulled all the strings again with a single word.

‘Stop.’

Haarlep obeyed, staring at her in astonishment. It was echoed on Raphael’s face, slack-jawed shock. The infernal creatures here held sway with fear and violence, pleasure and pain, and yet this mortal woman, this fragile soft thing, had leashed and muzzled them, so they could do nothing but exactly what she told them to do. Not out of fear, nor force.

But out of loyalty. Tav ignored them both, ran her fingers through her hair and felt two pairs of eyes follow her hands. She smirked, still not gracing them with eye contact, and slid a hand between her legs, the other sliding softly over the swell of her breast. They burned, both of them; she could feel it in the crackle of the air, the catch of their shared breath as she exhaled, like they could breathe only because she did. The power had shifted and she held it all. The queen played her own body deftly as a lyre, and the liars watched enthralled; she cried out into the vastness of the throne room, her domain now, anointed it with heat and light and nectar they could not taste or touch. Devil and incubus were rooted, frozen, even as they ached to press fingers to flesh- hers or their own, it hardly mattered. She crooked her coated fingers, watched the king crumble. He took a step and she shook her head, laughter bubbling from her throat like bursts of sunlight.

‘No, you don’t,’ she purred. ‘Get down and beg.’

His knees hit the floor, his arms reached up to grip her by the hips, his gaze half fear and half adoring. She had become infernal iron in his absence, strong and wild and too hot to hold in the mortal world, destructive and terrible. But here, in the hells, she dragged him up to her level while he dragged her down to his. They would meet someday on an even keel, but for now… for now…

‘Please,’ he rasped, face pressed to her belly, eyes beseeching. ‘I don’t… know what to feel. I want your body but I am tired of trying to take it. I want you to give, freely. You have consumed my mind, my fiendish soul is lost somewhere within your own. You are becoming a creature, a monster, or my resolve is turning to ash at your touch. I don’t know which, I don’t. I hardly care. You vex me-’ here he whined, pressing his forehead to her skin, horns either side of her throat, struggling to rein himself in. ‘You torment as I torment, making one another bleed. You make me more human as I make you a little less. Some feeling is lodged in my throat and you will call it a lie, I know you will.’ He met her gaze again, her stomach jolting at the sight of tears. ‘My little mouse. What have you become? I fear I love you. I know I want you. I want to rip you open and crawl inside your ribs and stay there for eternity. What have you done? What have you done?’

‘I couldn’t have love from you, so I wanted power,’ she crooned, stroking his hair softly. ‘I have power. You would do anything I asked of you, wouldn’t you?’ She looked past him to the incubus, who whined like a dog. She pushed her fingers into Raphael’s mouth, reached out to Haarlep with her other hand. ‘I trust you can see to your frustrations,’ she murmured. ‘Seek audience tomorrow and I may grant your wish.’ She hissed when the devil bit at her fingers, but would not relent. This was about power, not want, Her own desires would wait. The truth of it would reveal itself come dawn, when their minds were not clouded by lust.

‘Draw me a bath,’ she said to Haarlep, dismissing him. He slunk off, unsatisfied, and Raphael drew a shaking breath and stood.

‘Negotiations are going well, I trust?’ he asked quietly.

‘As expected.’ Her eyes flicked down his body. ‘Take care of yourself before someone sees you like this.’

‘If I could-’

‘No.’ Her voice held the ring of authority. ‘Tomorrow. Tomorrow, you will learn. Tonight you sleep alone. Show me you understand.’

He drew her close, enveloping her body entirely with his own, kissing her deeply until her head spun with heat and the pounding of blood. Then he withdrew, equally unsatisfied, a bared soul aching for something he dared not name.

Tags:

@bluerosetarot @dansnotavampire @further-than-forever

@forget-me-maybe @poetryvampire @sasha199 @wandawillow

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard

@crimson-and-lavender @reeseykins @medra-gonbites

@roguishcat @weaverofnetheril @galedekarioswifey @hyperfixationstation128 @lastlight-inn

@astarryvamp @feedthepheasants @dabigstinky @dreamingofthewild @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

[aealzx]

Don had been quick to rush out of the plane to get the infirmary ready, but Leo found it was hard for him to put too much urgency into his movements. Twice now Donnie had reacted better to slow, careful motions than abrupt ones. So Leo found he was continuing to be a lot more gentle and careful than strictly necessary when picking him up. He was completely limp, even after having had two and a half hours of sleep. But at least a little bit of color had returned to his skin now. At least Leo thought he looked a little less pale. When both teens were asleep Don had shown Raphael and Leo the video of what Augustine had ordered to be done, and through it they had learned the assistants had taken nearly a liter of blood from Donnie, along with cutting tissue samples from him. It had been enough to get Raphael rapidly walking the length of the plane several times to calm down, and gave Don more of an idea on how to take care of Donnie. Leo just understood a little more why Donnie had reacted defensively towards him, and hoped the teen didn’t wake up in the middle of them treating him.

“Thank April,” Leo found himself saying distractedly to Mom April as she welcomed them home. It was always nice to get a hug from her, but Leo found he was too anxious to stick around and fully catch them up on everything. “I’m okay, can we talk later? Maybe over dinner? You guys might be able to meet the kids then too.”

“...Sure thing, Leo,” Mom April relented, noting how absent he seemed and not wanting to stress him out more. He always had been the one to worry a lot. Even when they were kids.

Leaving them with Mikey, Leo moved quickly to the infirmary to find Raphael sitting near the surgery table with Lil Mikey in his lap, and Don scurrying around the room to gather the supplies he needed. “Over there, Leo,” Don directed, pointing to one of the beds he’d already started gathering items next to. Obediently following the directions, Leo gingerly lowered Donnie to the soft mattress, silently praying that he didn’t wake up just yet. At least they were all breathing better after each getting at least one dose of the antidote. Leo could only wait patiently for Don to finally stop at the bedside, slipping his tactical sleeves off in the meantime, and by then Raphael had managed to convince Lil Mikey to accept treatment and was casually chatting away with him.

“Okay, I think I got everything. Can you support him so his back is to me? I need to figure out how to get that device off,” Don directed, sounding just slightly breathless. Wordlessly doing as he was directed once again, Leo pulled Donnie upright to lean forward against him, looking over the metal backpack from his angle as well to try and help Don figure out how to safely remove it.

“Hey!” Lil Mikey’s voice suddenly grabbed their attention while Don was running his fingers over the cool metal. “Don’t take that off! He needs it!”

The scolding caused Don to flinch, and turn to look over at the other table. “...Needs it as in it’s physically attached to him and offering some sort of life supporting function?” he asked, wanting clarification on what exactly Lil Mikey meant so he could judge if he actually needed to obey his demand, or explain that it was necessary to remove it. He didn’t want to ignore Lil Mikey’s concerns, but he wasn’t sure if they would hinder treatment for Donnie despite being in good will.

“N-no… Nothing like that. It’s just… it’s not safe for him to have it off. Especially when away from home,” Lil Mikey faltered, having not thought his choice of words would make the others think Donnie was some sort of cyborg.

“...Mikey, it’s okay. You’re both safe here,” Raphael assured, reaching out to rest his palm on Lil Mikey’s shoulder.

“Even if it’s a prosthetic, it’s not safe to wear one while sleeping. And I need to check him for injuries. We saw evidence that Augustine’s people may have done something to his back…,” Don explained gently, understanding that Lil Mikey was still wary despite everything that had happened. He couldn’t expect the teens to trust them fully just yet.

It seemed that mentioning that something may have happened to Donnie’s back was enough to get Lil Mikey to completely flip his stance, sucking in a tense breath and wiggling his feet as he considered. “...There’s a button on the inside of the right shoulder,” he relented, frowning miserably. “Just make sure to be super extra careful, okay?”

“We’ll be extremely careful. Don’t worry,” Don assured, grateful for the tip on where to find the trigger to release the device. Once he knew where to look Don quickly found the button and pressed it, marveling as the shoulder pieces flexed outward with a slight hiss, and the belt went slack. “Fascinating…” he breathed, earning a chuckle from Leo as he hefted the metal aside, distracted by trying to get a quick analysis of it while he moved it away..

As Don took the equipment a short ways away, Leo adjusted his grip to keep Donnie supported against him, resting his hands on the teen’s back. But what he felt caused him to stiffen in shock, suddenly afraid to move. His fingers were able to push into what should have been a hard keratin shell, and when his gaze snapped down he saw a significantly flatter shell with four jagged marks across the surface. “....Donnie get back here now,” Leo blurted rapidly, flexing his fingers just slightly to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

“What is it- Oh!” Don rushed, semi dropping the backpack device the rest of the way to the floor and rushing back over to them. What he saw caused him to freeze as well, but then he gingerly reached out his fingers to brush against Donnie’s back. “...Oh wow…”

“It’s soft right? What does that mean? Is that bad? Shells aren’t supposed to be soft,” Leo rambled, his concern overflowing and pushing his bubbling thoughts to words before he could fully consider them. What had Augustine’s people done? Was it shell rot? Was it some crazy experimental garbage Augustine had infected him with?

“He’s a softshell you idiots. Stop manhandling him!” Lil Mikey blurted irritably, offended on behalf of his brother for the other two curiously running their hands all over his back. “So rude,” he huffed, creating small chains to wrap around Don’s wrists and pull them away.

“Sorry!” Don gasped, snatching his hands back as the orange chains broke him from his stupor, and not minding Lil Mikey scolding him. “Sorry- Let me just… do some quick research- I thought you were both box turtles like us…,” he rambled, pulling his phone out to access the internet.

“Ohmigosh- He’s not an alien. Just treat him like me, but be extra careful, and make sure you clean your hands and everything you use. Leo- my brother says he’s prone to infections. He’s always using antibiotic stuff on him and making sure he gets washed up properly for even small cuts. Otherwise he does everything else pretty much the same,” Lil Mikey huffed again, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

The interaction caused Raphael to snicker despite the situation. He didn’t want to admit he was curious to head over and take a peek for himself, but he figured Lil Mikey would probably throw him across the room with his chains if he did. So he decidedly remained where he was and continued to be amused from afar.

Don listened to what Mikey said, but also sped read through a few sites and different search parameters before he grew more relaxed and sure of his thoughts. “Infection… right, that would explain the fever,” he spoke, mostly to himself, then nodded firmly. “Okay. I got this. Leo, go ahead and lay him back down, then get some water and antibacterial soap. They both need to be cleaned up, and I’ll check the incision sites…”

Leo wasn’t quite as sure of himself as Don was, but at least he had directions now. What Don said made sense to him. If Donnie got infections easily then getting him cleaned up from the grim on him was a priority. Resting him back on the bed, Leo darted off to fetch a soft rag, soap, and water so he could wash off the debris from Augustine’s facility. Don had returned to his focused state after he started peeling the bandaids off, carefully inspecting each injury as he did so. He could at least count it a small blessing that Augustine had apparently ordered only the smallest possible samples be taken. The cuts were only 15 millimeters wide, and less than a millimeter thick. But it looked like they were pretty deep, and Don gingerly cleaned each wound again before rubbing antibiotic ointment on them and getting them covered again.

It didn’t take long before Don had finished addressing the injuries, started an IV with a small amount of antibiotics added to it, and strapped a heart monitor to Donnie’s finger just in case. When he began pulling a blanket over Donnie and tucking him in, Leo knew the treatment was done for now, and asked what he’d been wondering for a while now. “Is he going to be okay?”

Don paused for a second to think, but nevertheless nodded. “I think so. Aside from the bloodloss there isn’t anything incredibly concerning. I think he’s just incredibly exhausted, and that’s why he hasn’t woken up yet. We’ll need to keep an eye on him of course, but at this point I think it’s safe to just let him sleep. The IV fluids will help until his body restores the blood he lost, and we’ll need to get him a good meal when he’s up. But he’ll be fine.”

The explanation, and plans for what to do later, earned a sigh of relief from Leo. It could have been much, much worse. He was glad that, aside from Lil Mikey’s gunshot wound, nothing seemed to be critically serious. “I’ll go check what Mikey is cooking then. And let Master Splinter know we’re all home safe, in case he’s still up.”

“You know he is,” Don gave a small grin, and slight shake of his head.

Leo just laughed quietly, rising to his feet to head to the exit. “Yeah, I know.”

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the fun thing about adding drawings to these is that I can throw in random lil details without derailing the story X'D

Also after seeing some of the comments, don't worry, they're all gonna be fine. I don't believe in hurt without comfort =3= Donnie is just taking an extreme nap to process all the overstimulation and stuff.

[devillime]

Okay I’d like to talk about the treatment of the side characters and how empty the world feels so this is not proof read or anything this is a rant

Firstly

The world

We know that other students are there i understand that making a game takes time but for crying out loud the whole world of devildom feels so empty and yes we have the Little D’s but they are mainly in the castle with barbatos so they are practically diavolo servants like barbatos and even the recent event we are helping barbatos with serving nobles

NOBLES

Which is just baffling to me because games like arcana twilight that came out after obey me and are clearly inspired by obey me at least feels alive do we see full body sprites no of course not but we this

We can see what the characters look like to get a better understanding of how they look yet in obey me nothing really now I know if I remember CORRECTLY Nightbringer will be a continuation of the original game but it’s honestly stupid how a game like a obey me that been out longer than arcana twilight feels so empty

I’m asking for but if you want to write a good story and make me fee apart of it then take a moment to let us explore how the world works on OUR own.

Secondly

The side characters

Don’t get me wrong I love the brothers but I also love the side characters just as much but it’s ridiculous on how little screen time they have now is crazy not to mention the treatment of the new characters

First diavolo HES THE FUTURE KING OF HELL FOR CRYING OUT LOUD I believe he should get enough screen time but no the devs go against it

And before anyone say “well originally the side characters weren’t dateable” I only started playing after they were dateable but are doing some research the “side characters” have been dateable for a good while to the point they technically be considered they are perusing the mc minus Luke

So why are they still getting shit on by the devs? Probably because when most people think of the game they think of the brothers but honestly which character peaked your interest before playing the game because for me it was diavolo

And don’t get me started on the new characters this is more of a pet peeve with the fandom but why do you guys mischaracterize Mephistopheles and Raphael? Raphael has a similar if not same personality as belphie yet a lot of people say belphie is being cute while Raphael is being rude and Mephistopheles I’m sorry Lucifer fans but think of it from Mephistopheles perspective I’d be piss to if I was born to practically be someone right hand man only to get cased aside for something new?

A lot of you guys had mischaracterize thirteen when she came out but the devs oh god we barely seen thirteen and Mephistopheles in Nightbringer now Raphael I can kinda understand but the two that are in devildom with us don’t show up? That’s a joke like seriously

At this point why did they add them if they don’t appear as much hell I dare say obey me could have been a yandere otome game where the brothers became yandere after making a pact with the mc and the side characters like Solomon and Mephistopheles noticed this and try and help us but Solomon can’t tell Simeon and Luke because another war might break out again

But that’s all I have to say I brought up the world building or lack of in the official obey me server and people seem to say “but it be more pressure on the devs” I get that but this game gets a lot of money and I’m pretty sure it’s more pressure if they can’t keep the story straight because after lesson 40 I’m pretty sure we all have questions

And please PLEASE LET US SEE THE SIDE CHARACTERS MORE IN THE ANIME PLEASE

Rant off

[iceinwhb]

Thank you for posting a bit of Lucifer's new card. Yet again PB tosses any sense of player agency out the window. If they want us to like MC, or feeling like we're part of the story as MC...then they're doing a bad job of it.

Ohw, you don't have anything to be thankful for. I would like to bring you more stuff about it, but unfortunately I am part of the people who don't want to buy a nightmare pass card.

I would like to advise that if you want content like this, follow an awesome account that allows us to have a little more information about the Lucifer card; Hikifans (I recommend you to follow the account because there is always whb content that most of us F2P people don't have).

Well, I've already reconciled the idea that Mc is so silly and insipid that sometimes can… work, and sometimes it doesn't, but its change comes with the course of the main story, because the cards are solely for the purpose of fuck with demons.

And I wouldn't want to disagree with PB, precisely because my content goes specifically to this, but I do tend to think it's a company like any other, and all they want is money, regardless of the players.

The price is truly another level compared to other gachas, both new and known, and yes, it seems unfair to me, I also don't feel they want to do it differently when they see the opportunity to make more profit than they didn't have in their other games.

And I want to add that I don't really understand the reason for making it so expensive, if the highest price of LU for a pack is around 26 dollars, and in Doki Doki, 15 dollars the most expensive of the week, then PB does know how to manage affordable prices for their players, and they can also sell the cards separately, and it would be dozens of times better, but no. I know they are aware that the players only pay for the card, not for the materials that can be obtained for free in the game.

So yes, you are right when you say they are doing it wrong, but only for us, the players.

And from this, I can give you even more bad news. There will be cards with the same position as Lucifer:

And I don't have the slightest confidence that it will be free.

On the other hand, if you wonder where all the money you spend on the game goes, I think PB is trying their best to stay afloat, that's why I don't think that for the moment, they are going to address players' complaints. In fact, they themselves said that they were “too busy” developing whb that it was impossible for them to reply to every single comment.

(And what I actually believe they were developing:

And I am sure that if they made a Raphael, there is also a Gabriel and a Michael.)

And I'll try not to contradict myself by saying this, because it depends on how you see PB and if you still believe in it to keep playing. On my more intimate side, I'm just here to bring you nice content and continue in the fandom, because it's one of the nicest fandoms out there.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 6: Domestication

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

The group don't dare turn to look at Mikey.

He's still distracted by the holograms and lo-fi headphones. But that will not keep him for long.

"...Do we tell him?" Raph asks, finally breaking the tense silence.

"I... I don't know. I don't think we should," Donnie mumbles.

"Why not?" Casey asks. "He deserves to know --"

"No," Donnie says, standing up. "No. He... he shouldn't know. Not yet. Not until I can fix this."

Raph stares at him hopefully.

"...CAN you fix it?" he asks, voice breaking.

"Why, my dear Raphala, you wound me!" Donnie exclaims with dramatics, pressing the back of his hand to his fivehead as he pretends to swoon. "What little faith ye mortals have in the great and incredible power of one Hamato Donatello!"

"Can you get him back to normal?" Leo asks a bit more sternly.

"Yes," Donnie says with certainty. "I can 'make a fix, bro'."

Leo grimaces. That doesn't ease him as much as Donnie wants it to, but if he believes he will, then that is it. This is Mikey they're talking about, Donnie will do everything in his powers to return him to normal.

"In the meantime, what do we do?" Raph asks.

"Stay calm, don't get him riled up, keep him out of harm, etc." Donnie says as he starts to type on the computers again. "I'm activating 'Housebound Protocol'."

"What's 'Housebound Protocol'?"

"Have you never once wondered why Splinter didn't escape to the surface when he had rat flu?"

"...No?"

"Well, now you know," Donnie grumbles. "Basically, we'll keep Mikey inside the lair and help him adjust to the mutations while I search for an anti-mutigen formula."

"So... just play nursemaid?" Leo asks. "We're keeping it that simple?"

"I highly doubt it will be 'simple', Nardo," Donnie grunts. "Mikey will likely have episodes of PTSD from the experiments. His body will be adjusting and readjusting to the new changes he's going through. We've already seen a few reactions he may have."

"His vision," Leon noted.

"And his aversion to new people and new things," Casey bemoaned.

"And his vocal chords," Raph reminded.

"Among others," Donnie sighed. "So be on the lookout. I'll be compiling a list of animal traits from each of the species I named... Casey Jr., I hope I can rely on a list of Krang tendencies from you by tomorrow morning?"

Casey perks up and nods.

"You can count on me! I'll do anything for Master Michelangelo -- er, Mikey," he says, finishing with a nervous chuckle. "But... we don't tell him about the mutations? Or what he has in his DNA?"

"It's possible he may already know," Donnie suggests. "Or... well, it could be that he doesn’t understand anything other than basic animalistic urges, and wouldn’t comprehend us telling him."

"Wha-huh?" Raph questions as he tilts his head. "Donnie, you gotta use normal words."

Donatello rolls his eyes and sighs in exasperation.

"Mikey might have an animal brain now, not a mutant turtle brain. It is possible he may not understand us."

"He seems to understand just fine," Raph argues.

"So far, but most of our conversations with him haven't required anything of major -- um, I mean, we haven't asked him any BIG questions. Just small ones that are easy. Actually, I don't think we've asked him anything that requires a substantial answer yet..."

"So, Mikey is basically like... what, a pet now?" Raph demands.

"No, I didn't say that --"

"I refuse to accept that!" Raph shouts. "No, Mikey is still in there! I know he is! You didn't see him in the hallway, he understood me, he heard what I said and he responded! Maybe not in words, but he understood me! Mikey isn't some stupid animal, he--"

"Raph!" Leo scolds, pressing a hand against his chest.

Raphael pauses, and immediately looks to Mikey.

For a moment, he's the same old Mikey, sitting in a silly pose on Donnie's desk while he listens to pop music and sketches in his kneepads.

But then the mirage ends, and he's a feral creature crouched on the table, staring wide-eyed and frightened at Raphael, eyes glowing with that all-too familiar red in yellow shine. He wonders how he didn't recognize it before...

Raph is ashamed of himself when he has to look away from Mikey.

It's just those eyes... the same ones that haunt his nightmares every night.

He can't let them haunt his baby brother, too.

"Fine. Let's do whatever needs to be done. And NO ONE says anything about the you-know-what-aliens. Mikey doesn't need to worry about that right now."

The group all silently nod.

Donnie stretches as he gets up from his chair.

"Well, I have a long night of work ahead of me, so if you all please don't mind --"

Donnie shoos everyone away and out of the labs. As soon as the doors open Mikey scurries out, discarding the headphones in the process and dashing in every direction before circling back and landing at Raph's feet with a smile, asking to be picked up so he can climb all over him again.

Raph smiles awkwardly at him, and lifts him gently. Mikey's tail wags, slapping the back of Raph's shell as he perches atop his shoulders like a parrot on a pirate.

"Well, first things first," Leo says with an exhale, "Mikey needs some tending to. Let's get him a bath and see what we can do about those claws and injuries..."

Leo and Raph carry Mikey to the bathroom. He is confused and surprised as he looks around, examining the sink and toilet and tub.

Leo starts the faucet, and the loud spicket and water startle Mikey at first. He creeps towards it, but eventually decides it isn't evil and yells at it, trying to match its volume. Leo snickers at the sight. Mikey somehow hears this, and turns to look at him with a smile.

Leo tries not to let the fangs bother him. Mikey doesn't deserve to be thought of or seen as a monster. Even if he has monster in his blood, now...

After a few minutes, Raph -- who had left to gather some extra towels and soap -- reenters the room. Mikey runs to circle around his feet, curious as to what he has with him. Raph places the items down on top of the counter. Mikey sniffs each one with inquisitiveness.

"Which of these do you like better, big man?" Raph asks, opening two bottles of scented body wash and holding them out for him to smell.

Mikey sniffs both a few times before choosing one scented like citrus and honeysuckle.

Raph smiles as he begins to squirt the soap into the flow of water, bubbles forming under the waves and torrent of churning water.

"And Donnie thought he wouldn't understand us..." he chuckles. "Big brainy dum-dum underestimated you, huh?"

Mikey runs to the edge of the bath and stares, watching with excitement as the bubbles grow bigger and bigger. He points to the steaming water and suds, trying desperately to form words to express his enthusiasm.

"Ah, ah, ah! Ahhh, ha, hah!" he shrieks, a big and bright smile on his face.

Raph chuckles.

"Yeah, bubble baths are pretty fun, huh?"

"Should I go get the camera?" Leo jokes.

Raph rolls his eyes, looking away from Mikey for just a moment. Mikey tries to climb into the hot water before Leo scolds him.

"Ah-bup-bup-bup!" he shouts, causing Mikey to jerk away. "Not yet, bud, that water's too hot..."

Mikey cocks his head to the side in confusion. Too hot??

He looks back down to it. He reaches for the water again.

"Mikey, he said no, it's too hot!" Raph says sternly.

"Still think he understands us?"

Mikey jumps over the side and splashes into the water, smiling happily at the heat. Raph and Leo stare in shock, waiting for the screech of pain as Mikey is boiled alive, but no such cry comes.

"...Maybe it's us that don't understand him," Raph wonders.

Mikey plays in the bath, blowing at the bubbles and throwing them in the air several times, then shrieking with laughter. He throws them at Leo and Raph, who try to dodge the assault but fail.

"Alright, buster, you've asked for it!"

Leo runs to the bath with a pitcher a scoops up a great deal of water, then pours it over Mikey's head. Mikey coughs and sputters at the water.

For a moment, Mikey looks panicked, as if something has triggered him. But the panic subsides quickly, as he looks around the room and understands that he is home again. Mikey splashes Leo back. Leo laughs, and returns the favour. Mikey fills his mouth with bathwater and spits it at Leo, who yells in disgust and calls for Raphael's aid.

It takes far too long for them to actually get Mikey cleaned. The first ten minutes are spent in a war of water and bubbles. The next ten are spent refilling the tub and mopping up the spillage.

Mikey smirks, having of course won the battle, yet relented to let his brothers scrub the grime off his skin and the dried blood from underneath his claws. Raph is a little too rough with him, and Leo keeps getting soap in his eyes, but they are much better at washing him then the others were...

After that, he soaks for several minutes, just calming in the water.

It's quiet, now. Mikey is tired. The water is slow, soft, it envelops him entirely. Leo and Raph are talking about something, discussing what to do or who is in charge of what in the process of taking care of Michelangelo.

Mikey leans his head against the edge of the bath. The steam has long since gone. The bath is getting cooler. Mikey falls asleep...

A sharp pain in his chest.

Mikey's eyes widen.

His arms ache, his legs ache. His hands clench up, he grits his teeth and inhales sharply.

Leo is by his side, almost instantly.

"Mikey? Mikey, what is it?"

"He can't talk, Leo--"

"Well, he has to try! Come on, mi hermano, qué es?"

Mikey starts convulsing, shivering, shaking. His teeth chatter.

Leo takes the hint and places his hand in the water.

"The bath is cold," he says. "Mikey must be sensitive to cold. Let's get him out."

Raph reaches in and pulls Mikey out, his body rigid and unable to move apart from shaking vehemently.

"Do you think this has something to do with why he prefered the bath when it was boiling? The heat didn't seem to faze him at all," Raph mentions.

"He might have some new physical needs," Leo says, grabbing a towel and rubbing Mikey profusely. "I hadn't thought of that..."

Raph signs to Leo.

'Donnie said he had reptile mutations... do you think this is some enhanced form of brumation?'

Leo signs back.

'Not sure... could be? In any case, let's keep him warm and comfortable...'

Mikey starts moaning again, trying to speak.

"Don't worry, buddy, we'll get you nice and warm," Raph assures him.

Mikey starts moving again, his fingers curling and extending.

He holds up his two hands, one with three fingers extended and the other adding a fourth. He taps them against his chin.

"Mikey, what..."

He repeats the motion. Four fingers lined up together, tapping his chin.

A sign for a single word.

'Talk.'

Mikey had found a way to talk.

Prev || Next

[sapphireisverygaymydudes]

Ok so I just finished season six of supernatural and I’m having so many thoughts now that I’ve actually seen all the shit I’ve heard about. Also thank you to @sparrow-the-tired-lesbian for putting up with this shit I’m so sorry I send so many words that you don’t understand. I also have to do a part two cause it’s that much I’m so sorry.

Cas needed help in heaven and he went to go ask Dean but he saw that Dean was happy. Dean got out and Cas just couldn’t bring himself to ruin Deans peace. Crowley used this vulnerability and Cas’ love for Dean to manipulate him and convince him to open purgatory. Cas only started down that path because he loved Dean too much to bring him into his issues.

Then throughout all of season six Sam and Dean call Cas for help and he always goes even when he’s literally in the middle of a battle. Like dude is so dedicated. And whenever Crowley tells Cas that it would be easier to just kill them Cas refuses because they’re his friends.

The Winchesters and Bobby are the first people to actually enjoy Cas and the first humans who actually like him. He’s so dedicated and loyal to them but when they find out he was working with Crowley wanna know who was most upset? Fucking Dean. Dean didn’t want to believe it either, he wanted so hard to believe that Cas wouldn’t work with Crowley cause it’s Cas.

But then of course Dean finds out it’s true and they both are just so hurt. Even after they’ve trapped him Cas tells them to run and he stalls so that they can get out. From that point on he is trying so hard to not hurt them and to get this done without them being involved. He finds out that Deans ex gf and “not his son” get kidnapped and he just about kills Crowley. But he still need Crowley to open purgatory cause he needs the power that is there. But he only needs that power to stop Raphael and he only needs to stop Raphael because Raphael wants to start the apocalypse back up but Cas doesn’t want that and he tried to stop the apocalypse the first time. But he only stopped the apocalypse the first time because he rebelled and fell in love with Dean.

Cas only needs Crowley to open purgatory because he couldn’t bring himself to disturb deans peace. After Dean finds out that Cas was spying on them and working with Crowley Dean is obviously pissed. But Cas keeps showing up and he keeps asking Dean to be patient. He talks about how he does everything Dean asks, he always helps them, and yet Dean won’t believe that he knows what he’s doing solely because he’s working with a demon. Cas keeps trying to tell Dean that he is doing this for a reason, because he needs to stop Raphael so that the world doesn’t end again but Dean won’t listen.

So eventually Cas opens purgatory and he gets all that power in there and then what does Dean try to do? He try’s to use the “I would’ve died for you, you’re family” and Cas calls him out on his bullshit. Cas knows now that he is only loved by them because he is useful. He is tired and done. He had to kill his favorite brother because he told Dean and Bobby where to go, he killed Raphael because he was too stubborn to accept that God is a douchebag and now he knows that the man he is in love with, the man he risked everything for many times, the guy whose become his father, his brother they only care about him when he’s useful.

They only call for him when they need something and he is done with it. If they won’t respect him he’ll become god and make them. And he does, he becomes god. He has tried and tried to get Dean to see it his way, he tells Dean that he only is reasoning with him now because Cas was right about the power from purgatory and Dean is scared. And Dean is scared, he’s terrified. Cas has so much power and he’s not acting right but Dean it’s kinda your fault. Dean refused to listen to believe that maybe this incredible being knew what he was doing and Cas wasn’t left with any other options.

Pt two here tumblr

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 20.1 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, ANGST, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! It's late but I had to post this now.🤭 I've been busy writing this next part and it was getting WAY too long so I had to make the hard decision of cutting it into two parts. The word count was over 10k and I hadn't even edited it yet🫣 I'll have the second half of this chapter up in a few days so you won't have to wait too long to see what happens next. I hope you enjoy this next part!

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think!

The last few days felt like a total blur. You would give anything to go back up to the penthouse, get no cleaning done, and fight how much sexual tension there was brewing between you and Elvis. In your mind, none of this nightmarish stuff has ever happened to you but every time you close your eyes, it replays over and over on a loop and you can’t stay away from it. You had a hard time sleeping even though you were mentally exhausted. Elvis urged you to get some rest and that he’d be there the whole time to protect you. You were still scared though. Still scared Raphael had you in his grasp and wouldn’t let you go. 

You finally get released from the hospital even though your doctor insisted you stay long for testing because he grew quite concerned about those mysterious bite marks on your body. Elvis convinced them to not worry and released you right away. Before you knew it, you were on a plane headed for Memphis. 

You were still pretty groggy and ached when you moved too much. You were carried onto Elvis’ private plane and placed gently on the bed in the back of it. Blankets were placed over you and you gladly pulled them closer to your body. You couldn’t stop shivering and you didn’t know why. Maybe it was just your body in shock. Elvis lays in the bed with you and pulls you close, pressing your body into his and you yelp in discomfort. A sharp rush of pain grew where his hand was laid across your torso. You didn’t understand why it hurt so much right there. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks panicked. 

You close your eyes and take a sharp breath in. 

“It hurts. It hurts when you touch me here,” you whisper, knowing that it doesn’t sound right coming from your lips. You turn over to plead with your eyes for him to understand. 

His eyes grow with a look of hurt, not liking what you said. He slowly retracts his hands and looks over your body lying there. 

“I’m sorry baby. I should have known. I can feel how much your body aches,” he says sorrowfully, “please rest honey. We’ll be home in no time.”

You do as he says and by the time you wake up, you both are landing in Memphis. It was a short drive from the airport to Graceland and he held your hand the entire time in the back seat of his limo. It was cold this time of year and you could feel the cold from the windows of the car. 

You see a group of people waiting outside the gates of Graceland and they all scream and shout when they see the limo pull up. Elvis just smiles and waves at them, not stopping to sign any autographs. He looks worried at you as the car drives up the long winding driveway. The limo pulls to the side of the house and makes a gentle stop. Elvis helps you get out of the car, carefully picking you up, and carrying you inside. A few maids and cooks were waiting to greet him when he stepped through the doors, but their smiles soon faded into looks of concern when they saw you weak in his arms. 

“Can you please make some soup for her? And make sure no one comes into our room. Just leave the food at the door please,” he says gently. They nod their heads quickly and go to the kitchen. 

He takes you up the white staircase and leads you to the double doors of the master suite. It was low-lit, a lot like his suite in Vegas. Black and red tapestry hung in the room and gold fixtures hung on the wall. He places you down in the soft lush bed and quickly drapes a blanket over you. You look up at him and see how he wants to comfort you in some way but is too afraid of touching you. Your heart aches for him. You hated seeing how he 

“Are you comfortable honey?”

You nod your head at him and smile sweetly at him. Something about being here in his house was very comforting. The house felt very still and warm. You always expected his house to be lively and loud but based on how you’re feeling, he probably didn’t want that for you. 

There was a soft knock at the door and Elvis went to grab the food left at the door. He helped you eat some of the chicken soup and it did taste really good. You don’t remember eating much food in the hospital as your stomach was either nauseous or the food tasted awful and you refused to eat it. You eat a good portion of the soup now and look at him longingly. There was so much pain written across his face. You hated to see him like this, but you knew it was only because of what happened to you that he was feeling like this. You wish you could convince him that you’re okay and not going to perish by just one look. 

A heavy silence fills his room and he carefully picks up your hand to hold it. He places a gentle kiss on the top of it and sighs. 

“How do you feel baby?” 

“I’m okay,” you whisper. 

“You’ll get better every day, don’t you worry.”

You give him a reassuring smile, hoping that he is telling the truth. 

“Do you remember anything from that night baby? What was the last thing you remember?” He asks gently. 

You nod your head, “yes…. I remember Raphael biting me and the door burst open… that’s about it,” you say hoarsely. 

His face drops and he grows worried. You grow concerned and don’t understand why he’s giving this reaction. 

“Why? What happened?” You ask. 

He shakes his head at you and breathes in deeply. “I’ll tell you another day honey,” he says shortly. 

You sigh in protest, wanting to know what had happened. You hated when he tried to deflect from any problems you were facing. 

“Fine,” you say slowly getting out of bed. You’re able to walk fine but you feel aches and pains shot through your body, especially your neck. 

“Where do ya think you’re goin’?” He asks. 

“I’m just going to take a shower and get out of your way since you don’t want to talk to me.” You say shortly. 

“Honey, it’s not like that. I just don’t want to overwhelm you. Let me help you at least. You’re still pretty weak,” he advises, “let me draw a bath for you and help you. Please, honey, understand that this isn’t easy for me to see you like this.” 

You sigh, frustrated with everything but understand he’s only trying to help you. You felt bad he had to watch you in the hospital for those few days unable to do anything.

“Okay, I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you say softly. 

Elvis gets up off the bed and walks over to the bathroom, flipping the light switch on. You sit back down in the bed and wait for the tub to fill up and for Elvis to come back to get you. 

After a few moments, he emerges from the bathroom and helps you walk over. The cold marble made you shiver and hoped the bath water was warm enough to warm your shivering body. For the first time in days, you look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror. You had on an oversized T-shirt you didn’t recognize and some soft sweatpants. A large brown bandage was plastered across your neck as well as your wrists. 

You glance up at Elvis and watch where his gaze is drawn, how it stares lasers at your covered wounds. He can’t hide the fact that he was disgusted by the sight of the damage Raphael caused and spurts of anger were felt coming off of him. 

He carefully brushes your hair to one side of your shoulder and gently puts his hand on your arm. 

“We have to take off these bandages baby. I’ll be gentle and clean them for you,” he says sweetly. 

You nod your head and part of you doesn’t want to see them become uncovered. But you knew you had to face the reality of your situation sooner rather than later. His cold fingertips lightly graze your neck, giving you goosebumps. He carefully pulls the bandage off and you wince. You watch as he slowly reveals your wound to you, how it’s red and blue and ached terribly. You can see the perfect indentation of his teeth in your neck and how deep his fangs really went. You felt like crying, all of this was too overwhelming. But you tried to pull it together as you had other bandages left to uncover. 

You didn’t want to look at Elvis’ eyes and how hurt they must look. That would for sure make you crumble. He moves into your wrists, taking off those bandages but you decide not to look at them. You already saw how those looked at the house. 

“Okay baby, can you lift your arms so I can help you get out of this shirt?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

He nods his head and takes off your shirt, then followed by your sweatpants. You look back at your body in the mirror and another bandage is on your chest, tummy, and one on the inside of your upper thigh. Your eyes shoot a panicked look at Elvis, not remembering how these happened. He doesn’t look at you right away, he is focused on removing them and trying not to hurt you. He kneels down on his knees and removes each one. This explains why it hurt so much on the plane when he pulled you in to lay next to you. 

Each bite mark looked worse than the last. You finally let out all the tears you were holding back. You push at his chest and turn your back to Elvis, gasping in between sobs. 

“Don’t look at me, please. I’m disgusting,” you whimper. 

“No baby, no that’s not true. You don’t need to hide from me. Come on, let’s get you in the tub,” he says softly. You feel him take your hand and lead you to the water. 

The water was perfect temperature and the warm water soothed your body instantly. You lay back and wince once your bite marks emerge in the water. The wounds burned and you had to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. 

He gently washes your hair, massaging your head and relieving some pent-up stress. He was being so tender with you. Not that you didn’t think he had that side, he had showed you that side of him a few times. But he was normally so dominant, so in control of everything, you loved this side of him and how he was treating you. 

He goes to get a clean wash cloth and lathers some soap on it. He was gentle as a feather as his hand washed your body, making sure not to make your wounds hurt more. You look down at the wash cloth and see red stains staring to appear on it. Little dribbles of blood started leaking out of your bite marks and you hold your breath. Your skin was so fragile that the slightest thing was opening the wounds again. You look up at him panicked, not wanting him to endure this torture. 

“Elvis, you don’t have to do this,” you whimper. 

He licks his bottom lip, eying the drop of blood falling down from your neck and down onto your breast in a slow teardrop. He takes a deep breath before wanting to speak, his eyes lighting up with hunger, and he swallows harshly. You don’t know when the last time he fed but you can only assume it was when he fed from you over a week ago. Your finger swipes up the blood and gathers it on your finger, slowly putting it to his lips. He grunts as you’re inches away from his mouth.

“No, baby, I’m okay,” he sighs, looking away from you. You take your other hand and place it on his chin, moving his face to look back in your direction.

“Taste it, baby,” you sigh. His dark eyes meet yours and he opens his mouth slightly, allowing your slender finger to enter his mouth. His lips close and you feel his tongue lick the pad of your finger and sigh deeply. He closes his eyes and swirls his tongue around your finger then pulls his head away. You couldn’t help but sigh when you watched him taste you, completely turned on just watching him getting to enjoy you.

He gently takes your hand and kisses the back of it, taking a deep breath of your scent.

“Thank you, you didn’t need to do any of that. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you remember?” He says cheekily.

“I know, just thought why let it go to waste,” you say shyly. 

“You’re too good to me.” He says softly, rubbing your arms with the washcloth. You know it’s not easy for him though. No matter what control he might possess right now, he still wanted your blood an ungodly amount. He glides the washcloth across your breast, cleaning off the rest of the trickling blood that came out. You couldn’t imagine how hard this was for him to do, letting your blood go to waste and just wash it away. His face was well-controlled and very focused on not hurting you. You take a sharp breath in, feeling the pain that comes with him touching you like this. Your skin stung as he washed your body and only the sound of your breathing and the small water droplets falling off of you was heard.

“Can you stand up now baby? So I can wash your legs?” He asks.

You nod your head and grab onto his shoulder to maintain your balance. Nerves rushed through you as your naked body stood in front of him, battered and scarred. You felt more exposed than you had ever felt in your life. You didn’t want him to see you like this, especially when the marks were so evident on you. You could only imagine what was going on in his head as he got a closer look at them.

He drops the washcloth in the sudsy water, his fingers trembling as he runs them up along your leg and onto your thigh. 

“Oh God,” he mutters. You look down at the mark on your thigh and that one looks the worse. You didn’t need to look at it for long and it made you sick that they could do this to you. Elvis let out a pent-up sigh and you could tell he was angry. The more he inspected your contused figure, the more you could tell he couldn’t stand the sight of it.

You gently push his chin up to look at you, tears filling your eyes. “Honey, please don’t look too long. I can’t see you like this,” you plead. His jaw clenches and he grunts, not saying anything back.

He finishes washing your body without saying a word and quickly grabs you a towel and drapes it over your shoulders. He grabs a fluffy robe from behind the door and helps you in it. You walk back into the bedroom and crawl back into bed. The bite on your thigh made walking uncomfortable and sitting down even harder too. Every move you made opened the wound back up, causing blood to leak from it. You put pressure on it with your hand over the robe, naively thinking that will help the scent of you from lingering in the room. You look back at Elvis as you realize he didn’t follow you into the bedroom. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, looking down at the floor sullenly.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“Hmm?” You say confused.

“I’m sorry for all of this. You should have never had to go through this,” he sighs defeated, not looking in your direction.

Your emotions were on the brink of collapse and you wanted to cry again.

“Baby, please, come here,” you beg. He walks slowly to the bed and leaves space in between you two.

You grab at his wrist to make him look at you.

“This isn’t your doing, Elvis. You weren’t the one that hurt me. You’re not responsible for their actions,” you try to reason.

“I should have been there… I should have gotten to you sooner and got you out of there quicker. I’m so sorry honey please forgive me,” he pleads.

“You have nothing to be forgiven for. You haven’t done anything wrong,” You assure him by rubbing his hand gently, “But please, tell me how these other marks happened. I don’t remember them happening at all. I need to know.”

Elvis scoots closer to you and lets out a deep breath before speaking. He goes to reach out for your chest, lightly grazing your skin that’s showing from the robe. Your skin instantly gets goosebumps as he touches you. 

“When I got there… Raphael was biting your neck, making you scream in agony like I’ve never heard before. It was painful even for me to watch…I pulled him off of you and you hit the floor, your body weak and frail. That’s when some of his men came from upstairs and tried to get me away from him.”

“They held me back briefly, but it was enough time for him to get back to you and take another bite… right here,” he says as he touches your chest. You look down at his finger slightly shaking as he touches you.

“Then I broke free from their grasp, running to Raphael and pulling him off of you as quickly as I could. His teeth tore into your skin so badly though… I dragged him outside and… did what I had to do.” He says through his teeth. He looks back at you and falters his gaze instantly.

“By the time I got back inside, Daniel was feeding off of you… biting you here and here,” he says touching your tummy and then slowly trailing his hand down to the inside of your thigh, lifting the robe to expose the bite mark.

Your heart sinks, feeling disgusted Daniel ever touched you in the first place. 

“Oh God,” you whimper, tears filling your eyes again. You pull the blanket on the bed, covering your body to shield him from your bite marks. 

“They were all taken care of honey, they’ll never hurt you again.”

“Why? Why did they do this? They caused such damage,” you sniffle. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh, not liking to see you like this. 

“They weren’t good men honey. They always had ill intentions when it came to you. I might never really know why they fed so aggressively, but I have a feeling they did it out of pure spite. To show me that they got their way with feeding on you while I didn’t. That they chose to bite those particular places on you because… they knew I’d always see their marks in the most intimate of places on you.”

That felt like a punch in the gut. It made you sick and angry that they would ever dare think of such a thing.

“I’m sorry. Elvis, I’m so sorry. I tried to stop them, I really tried. They threatened me they were going to compel me to forget you. I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have you taken away from me like that,” you sob uncontrollably. 

He quickly pulls you into his arms, soothing you through your cries and rubbing your head gently. 

“Baby, baby don’t be sorry. I understand. You had to make unthinkable decisions and I couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like,” he says gently, kissing the top of your head, taking a deep breath in of your scent. 

“It was awful, they were so mean to me. He told me, that having a Chosen wasn’t real. He said you were lying to me just to keep me to yourself.” You cry. He pulls his body away from you to look at you. 

“No, honey. No, he was lying to you. I’d never lie to you about something like that baby. You’re mine,” he says exasperated. 

You watch as his eyes start to turn dark, the pools of blue starting to bleed red. You pull your head away from him, scared of thirsty eyes in your face all the time these last few days. He winces, closes his eyes, and tries to gain back control. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you. I’m just upset with what they did to you and what they told you,” he says frustratedly, getting up off the bed and taking a few deep breaths before looking over at you, “You still believe me don’t you? That we are meant for each other?” He says weakly. 

“Yes… I do,” you say softly, wiping the tears from your eyes. 

“Good,” he says, “I can’t live without you, baby. It nearly killed me to see you like that. I know we’re not fully bonded, but I… I could feel your pain. It hurt me so I couldn’t imagine how bad it felt for you, I’m just so sorry.” 

“I didn’t know that was possible…”

“I didn’t either. I was on stage that night you got taken and I sensed something was wrong, but I blamed it on my nerves. Then I felt this shooting pain in my wrist. I haven’t experienced an ounce of pain since I’ve gotten bit. That's when I knew, it had to be you that was in pain and in trouble. I lost it. I went on a blind rampage and was yelling for you, trying to see if I could pick up your scent.”

“But I couldn’t. I was too blind to notice they took you. They took you right in front of me and they laughed about it. I felt like an idiot,” he seethed.

“But you found me, that’s all that matters now. You can’t live replaying the past and torturing yourself over what you could have done. I’m here now baby. You saved me,” you say exasperated.

He gives you this look of doubt like there was more to this story he was keeping from you.

“What? What is it?” You ask.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. And you’re right. I have you now and that’s all that matters,” he says solemnly, shooting his eyes away from you as he speaks. He gets up off the bed and starts toward the door, giving him a confused look as he suddenly needs to go. 

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask. 

“I’m going to take care of some things downstairs. I’ll come and check on you in a bit, he says sweetly with a smile. 

“Okay, I-,” your brain freezes and your heart shudders in your ribcage.

I love you, your brain screams, wishing you had the courage to say it loud.

“I’ll call for you if I need anything,” you say with a convincing smile. He nods his head and leaves you alone in the cold, empty bed.

*

Elvis runs downstairs and heads into the bathroom and quickly shuts the door. He looks into the mirror and sees his blood-red eyes look back at him. 

You fucking pathetic, disgusting creature, he thinks looking in the mirror

Your woman is upstairs hurting and all you can think of is how good her blood tastes? Jesus, you’re vile. 

He was starving and having to be around your open wounds was torture. He hadn’t eaten for over a week and it was starting to get to him. That last time he fed was from you and that spoiled him. It made him want only your blood from now on, nothing else would do. 

He wanted you to feel better and get back to normal. But he couldn’t lie to himself… things were going to take a while to get back to normal. Not after everything you endured and what he wanted to do to you…

Stop no, it’s because you love her. You love her so irrevocably, you can’t live without her and that’s why you thought of doing that life-altering thing. You vowed you would give her the choice when the time came, he thinks. 

Elvis squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out those thoughts. He knew there was blood in his fridge and was going to have to drink it whether he liked it or not if he wanted to be around you while you were recouping. He lets out a soft groan and turns to go to the kitchen. There wasn’t anyone down here this late at night so he didn’t have to hide what he was about to do. 

He opens the fridge and pulls out a blood bag from the top shelf. Walking over to the sink, he cusses under his breath, wishing he could have an ounce of control when it came to blood. Even though you had only been in the house for less than an hour, your scent was everywhere and beckoning him to go back upstairs with you. He made all his men stay somewhere else tonight. He didn’t want them near you as your wounds were still healing and open with the temptation of your blood swirling in the air. All he wanted to do was nuzzle into the crook of your neck and breathe in the scent of you. He wanted to hear how melodious your heart sounded when you lay there sleeping. But even that seemed like it was too much for him. He would have to fight taking a taste of your blood that pooled underneath the surface of your bite marks. He curses at himself and angrily closes the fridge.

He held the bag in his hand and wasn’t patient enough to open the blood bag properly. No, he was so hungry and wanted any blood to satiate him for a little while and be able to go back upstairs with you. He felt his fangs emerge and he sunk them into the bag, greedily gulping down the blood. He squeezed it tightly, forcing more blood to flow into his mouth, and groaned. He couldn’t help but picture you now as he fed, wishing he was drinking from your perfect body.

It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do. This tasted like the most bland thing he’s ever had but at least it would calm his appetite. He sucks the last drop of blood out of the bag and throws the plastic bag in the trash. Going back to the sink to wipe his face clean, Elvis gruffly groans, upset at all the events that you’ve been put through lately. He wished he could fix them all and take your pain away. There was a way to… but he wouldn’t do that to you. 

Not yet. 

He knew this was part of his instincts he couldn’t control. If anything, it just further solidifies that you are in fact his Chosen. That every cell in his body screamed to make you his and protect you for life. 

*

*

*

Tagging:

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@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog. @myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything . @ohjustpeachy

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[hassedah]

Hello, i hope you are fine. Can you write a story where the characters make their engagement request to y/n

The boys propose to MC :

Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^

Here's the headcanons you requested! I hope you enjoy it! ^^

Take care of yourself and have a nice day! ^^

Vladimir :

For as long as he can remember, Vladimir has wanted to get married. He still remembers explaining to his parents, with all the seriousness a child can muster, what his wedding would be like, with the guest list, the food and the music he wanted. He also remembers asking his parents dozens of times about their wedding.

As a teenager, he still thought about it but with a weight on his heart, his understanding of the world had evolved and with it the realisation that nobody really wanted him. And as a young adult, he had written it off. The people he had tried to court had all rejected him and his parents' reassuring words no longer made sense, no one wanted to take the risk of marrying him and potentially having a sick child like him and as he would inherit nothing when his parents died, he really wasn't a good match for marriage.

Ever since he met you, he's found himself believing. You've already talked about it together several times. You've talked about what you'd like to eat, where the ceremony would take place, what you'd wear.

Sometimes Vladimir would start to cry when he realised that his family wouldn't be there. You always managed to console him by promising that everyone in the manor would be there for you on the day.

Lately, he's been thinking about it even more. He finds himself moving on to decorating the manor house for your wedding and thinking about a beautiful spot in the garden for the ceremony.

He just needs to find the courage to ask you to marry him and that's the problem. He knows you'll say yes, but there's always that little voice in his head telling him that you'd never want to marry someone like him, that everything he's been through is wrong and that he'll end up alone again as soon as you realise he's not as wonderful as you think. He chases this horrible idea away every time, but it keeps whispering as soon as he finds himself alone.

He doesn't know how to propose either. He tries out different ways of saying it, but none of them seem perfect enough. He thinks of a nice place to propose in the garden before realising that no place seems perfect enough and sets about reorganising a large part of the garden especially for the occasion.

During this period, you will have to go and look for it regularly in the garden to encourage it to return, as he will even start working there on the nights of the full moons.

Despite her best efforts, the place never seems perfect enough for her, the flowers aren't beautiful enough, the layout doesn't suit her, even though Aaron and Beliath keep telling her every night that you're going to love it, it's not enough for her. It's the same with the ring, of course it's beautiful, but it's not perfect, and yet Raphaël helped her choose it and keeps telling her that everything is going to be fine.

He would like this moment to be one of the most beautiful days of your life. He'd like you to remember his proposal as a fairytale moment. You deserve the best and he feels he'll never be able to give you what you really deserve.

His behaviour is starting to worry you. You know your vampire from the time you've spent with him and you know that he sometimes makes mountains out of molehills, but when you ask Aaron what's wrong he just tells you that he's not allowed to talk about it, Beliath shrugs before saying "It's Vladimir" and Raphael tells you that everything's fine with a conspiratorial smile.

Your concern for him pushes him to go for it. He practises for several days in front of the bathroom mirror to make the most perfect proposal before finally daring to take the plunge. He invites you into the garden on a moonless night, under a pretty rose-covered pergola and lit by little lanterns. You can't miss how anxious he looks that night.

His proposal isn't perfect, he knows that, he stumbles over his words more than he would have liked, he even speaks a little too quickly and he finds it hard to hold your gaze without feeling like his cheeks are burning. When he stops talking, he looks down at the ring he's holding out to you, too stressed to continue looking at you.

He barely hears your "yes" before you kiss him and it takes him a few seconds to realise that you've actually agreed and that he's not dreaming. He responds to your kiss with tears of happiness.

The ring he gave you is of an antique design, as if it came straight from the nineteenth century, it can't have been easy to find one like that in the jewellery shops. It's obviously expensive but discreet, in gold with a small round ruby in the centre, and when you look closely you can see that both your initials are engraved on the inside.

Béliath :

He had never imagined getting married. Marriage doesn't exist among succubi, although there is something that might resemble it, but it's not official and it's frowned upon by the majority of succubi. He only began to be invited to weddings when he started living among humans.

He's always loved being invited to weddings though, it's fun. There are lots of people, good food, good music, it's a great opportunity to celebrate for him. However, Beliath was never interested in the more ceremonial aspect of the wedding. He was really just there to have fun and make new friends.

Since he's been in a couple with you, he's been thinking about it differently. You seem to like the idea of marriage and if it's something you want then so does he.

What's more, it's a good excuse to celebrate and invite people to the manor. The two of you end up talking about it quite a lot together. As a result of hearing you talk about it, he's got a whole Pinterest board full of ideas for decorating, clothes and food that you've said you like. He also asks the other boys what they do at weddings, and was quite surprised that he didn't have to insist when he mentioned his idea of using Vladimir's garden for part of the evening.

Once he was reassured that he could marry you in the manor, he started to think about how to propose. The problem is that he doesn't really know how to go about it, so he often thinks about it and asks Ethan for advice. The doctor isn't much help, though, as he just says, "Just ask! Why are you complicating your life? It's just a marriage proposal, Bel".

Of course, he's partly right, it's only a marriage proposal. But he can't just ask you for it any old way. It has to be organised to a certain extent, you can't expect it, the setting has to be both romantic and chic, and you both have to be dressed to the nines.

This proposal must be engraved in your memory as one of the most beautiful days of your life with him, and you must remember it 100 years from now as a wonderful evening.

He takes Ethan with him on a tour of different restaurants and hotels in and around the city. He needs Ethan's opinion to make his choice; he wants to propose to you somewhere beautiful before enjoying a night alone with you in one of the chicest hotels around.

He also asks the people at Moondance for their advice, and he gets a lot more help there than he does with Ethan. Some give him lists of the best hotels and restaurants, while others advise him on the best places for a honeymoon. When he returns to the manor, he sorts through the suggestions with Raphaël and Vladimir.

You notice a few changes in his behaviour during this period, not enough to worry you, but enough to intrigue you. You know you can't ask Ethan anything about it, because he'll be as mute as a grave, so you tackle Vladimir, who stammers out a few panicked excuses before fleeing the room like a thief. That's enough for you, you know that your partner is up to something and that everyone but you is in on it.

Your curiosity forces him to hurry, so he goes out in the middle of the day with Ethan to buy the ring and spends several hours choosing the one that looks best, under Ethan's weary gaze, who nearly falls asleep several times in the various jewellery shops they visit. Then Beliath books the restaurant and the hotel, having hesitated for a long time over the final choices.

He invites you to a restaurant just a few days later, which doesn't surprise you too much given that Beliath has got into the habit of inviting you to private evenings quite regularly. Your partner's behaviour seems a little stranger than usual, however, as he rarely seems slightly stressed.

He proposes at the end of the meal. If you don't like having all the attention focused on you, he tries to remain discreet, but if you don't mind, he doesn't hesitate to make himself noticed. Beliath talks at length about you and all the reasons why he wants to marry you and spend eternity with you.

When he stops talking he feels a slight tension in his muscles that he hadn't noticed until that moment, and he realises for the first time just how much stress he's under. He looks at you with the impression that you're taking hours to answer, even though he knows that only a few short seconds have passed, and when you finally accept he can't hold back any longer and gets up to kiss you.

The engagement ring he's given you looks very sophisticated, but it's still fine and discreet. It obviously cost a lot of money, is in white gold and is set with several small diamonds.

Ivan :

He had never asked himself if he wanted to get married. As a child, he attended all his parents' friends' weddings and he remembers not enjoying them: everything took too long, he had to wear uncomfortable clothes, be good, not make a fuss, not bother the adults and sometimes there weren't even any children his own age to play with.

It was the same thing when he was a teenager, marriage often rhymed with boredom and a whole day wasted congratulating people he didn't know. He would have preferred to stay at home playing video games or reading or going out to see Constance and Loïc.

Now that you're together, he thinks differently. You've often talked about marriage and you seem to like the idea of marrying him. He can't say he doesn't like the idea either, he even thinks it might be fun. Of course, there wouldn't be any of his family or friends from his previous life, but he would be marrying you and there would be members of the manor to attend.

He discussed it a little with Aaron and Vladimir to get their opinions and above all to make sure that they would be present if he were to get married. Once this was done, he started looking for a nice place to propose. Initially, he'd thought of a restaurant, but he still has trouble eating human food and he still doesn't feel safe enough in a crowd of humans. Aaron has suggested that he propose in the forest and has even pointed out several places he finds charming, but Ivan is hesitant. Sure, the forest is pretty, but it's not personal enough. He wants somewhere that means something to both of you, not just somewhere beautiful.

Finding the place isn't his only problem. He's also looking for the perfect way to propose. He's written dozens and dozens of sentences in a notebook and he had Raphaël and Vladimir read them, but even though the two vampires kept telling him it was perfect, he wasn't satisfied. It's not that perfect isn't good enough - he's not a perfectionist - but he can't help feeling that it's not personal enough.

The closer the moment gets, the more anxious he feels. He knows you'll accept, you've discussed it so many times together, but a small part of him can't help thinking that it's just an idea he has. Constance has lied to him about her feelings for years, of course he knows you're not like her, he knows you really love him, but the event is still traumatic.

You've noticed some change in your partner's behaviour because of this. Ivan seems much more thoughtful and writes things down in a little notebook that he always hides whenever you come into the room. He's also more clingy with you, which doesn't particularly bother you because you know that your partner sometimes needs reassurance that you love him.

Vladimir and Aaron try to look neutral about it, but, listen, their adorable little Ivan is going to propose, of course they're happy. That's what's got you suspicious - you don't know what's going on in the manor, but Vladimir is in a strangely good mood and Raphael often interrupts Aaron mid-sentence when you're there and he's talking about Ivan. However, no matter how hard you try to find out what's going on, Ethan, Beliath and Raphael act as if they don't know anything about it, which is all the more suspicious given that secrets don't normally stay secret for very long in this manor.

When the day finally comes to propose, Ivan is incredibly anxious, but he tries to put on a brave face and look as normal as ever, which fails given that he's already tripped twice walking with you through the forest.

You arrive at your destination after several minutes' walk. It's the big tree you used to climb with Ivan. You climb the tree with him and sit on a branch for a chat. It's a particularly pleasant spot, far too far from the town for humans to approach, and no-one from the manor comes here.

After a moment, Ivan takes a deep breath and pulls his notebook and a small box out of his pocket. At first he tries to read what he's written, but the words don't seem to make sense and he feels like he's being incomprehensible, perhaps because he stumbles over his words a lot and his stress sometimes takes his breath away. Finally he puts his notebook away and closes his eyes before handing you the box. He speaks more slowly this time, he doesn't need the notebook, he needs to tell you clearly how he feels about you without a filter.

When he stops talking, he shyly opens his eyes to look at you. Your smile is a response in itself, and he almost falls out of the tree as you lean in to kiss him.

It's a very simple engagement ring - Ivan didn't go for complexity. The only stone in the ring is a heart-shaped topaz. On the inside of the ring, Ivan had "I love you" engraved.

Aaron :

When he was a child, he liked to attend weddings in his village, which were held quite regularly and were always a great day of celebration. He wasn't really interested in the ceremony itself, preferring to play with the other children and enjoy the festive food that had been prepared. He also liked to explain to his mother what he wanted for his wedding, but when he was a child it mainly consisted of games and lots of party food, especially biscuits, pastries and sweets.

As he got older, he became a little less utopian. First of all, he needed money if he wanted to have a good wedding and be able to provide for his family, which wasn't likely to be the case if he just stayed living in the village. And then, to get married you need a partner and Aaron has never managed to find someone who's perfect for him, of course he's met and had partners but he's never felt the need to get married. In the end, he even gave up on the idea of ever getting married altogether.

Things have changed since you've been a couple. He knows that marriage is something close to your heart, and you've often talked to him about it, whether it's at night when you're lying together amidst sheets and pillows, or during your long walks in the forest when you've spotted a particularly beautiful spot that would be perfect for holding a wedding. The more you talk about it, the more he likes the idea. Sometimes he'll be surprised to notice places in the forest where he could take you to propose or to stop for a moment in front of a jewellery shop to look at engagement rings.

He spoke to Raphaël and Vladimir about it and, of course, his two friends were very enthusiastic about the idea. Vladimir offered to hold the wedding in the garden, and even said he was willing to make changes to make the venue a little more to Aaron's taste. Beliath, Ivan and Ethan found out shortly afterwards. You often walk into a room to see them all stop talking abruptly before looking innocent.

Their behaviour immediately tells you that something was going on in the manor. What's more, Aaron seems more pensive than usual. You've tried to get them to spill the beans, but none of them want to admit it and they all play dumb when you ask them questions.

Aaron already has an idea of where he might propose. There are several particularly beautiful places in the forest that might be suitable, but he's thinking mainly of the lake near the manor. He loves to come and walk there with you, whether it's to stand by the bank and chat or to take a dip on a hot summer's night. It's also far enough away that his flatmates won't bother him there, and he wants to be alone with you when he proposes.

He doesn't have too much trouble with words and already has a good idea of how he wants to propose. Aaron isn't looking for something grand or exceptional, he prefers something much simpler that will be more likely to express his feelings for you frankly.

On the evening of the proposal, you went for a walk in the forest with Aaron as usual. It wasn't yet a full moon and you were walking together, chatting. However, your partner seemed slightly tense, you could tell by the sound of his voice and the tension in his muscles. He kept one of his hands in his pocket and you could tell he was playing with something without really knowing what.

When you reached the edge of the lake, you both stopped for a moment to take in the scenery. The forest was calm, there were a few insects flying around you, pretty fireflies giving the lake a mysterious appearance and the slight reflection of the quarter-moon on the water. Aaron took a deep breath beside you and you immediately turned your head to look at him.

It took him a moment to stop playing with the ring in his pocket and turn to you. In this landscape, he finds you even more magnificent than usual. When he starts to speak, he speaks each word slowly and thoughtfully, repeating his love and desire to spend eternity with you. It's simple, but breathtakingly sincere; he feels like he could talk for hours about the love he feels for you.

When he finally stops talking, his gaze doesn't leave you, he watches every feature of your face, every reaction, he can feel his heart beating faster and faster in his chest and when you finally accept he can't hold back any longer from kissing you.

It's a very simple engagement ring, but it's also very old-fashioned. It feels solid and you wouldn't be afraid to wear it even when working with your hands. There's a small amber stone in the centre, but it doesn't protrude from the ring at all, so there's no risk of it catching on anything. It looks so simple that you're surprised when you see the first words of a love poem written to you by Aaron.

Raphaël :

For as long as he can remember, Raphaël has loved weddings, even as a child he was always happy to go with his parents. He could wear pretty clothes and play with the other children, he was allowed to eat a lot more sweets than usual, his parents' friends complimented him on his beauty and he loved hearing his mother tell him that he looked like a magnificent little prince.

He often told his mother what he wanted for his wedding, pausing at length to talk about the musicians and performers who would liven up the party: there had to be drama, music, games and food galore, and while he was at it he also wanted a show with bears, jugglers and acrobats.

After his parents died, he completely forgot about the idea. It's not that he didn't want to get married any more, but that when your own family is fighting not to get custody of you you seriously start to doubt that anyone will love you. Marriage is all very well, but what's the point if your partner is going to abandon you one day? The story with Margarita didn't help matters and slowly convinced him that everyone disappears one day.

Now that you're a couple, he's starting to feel hopeful again. He likes to hear you talk about marriage and listen to your ideas and wishes on the subject. He writes them down in a notebook so that he doesn't forget them. He thinks it would be nice to marry you. He knows that he has clothes that would be perfect for the occasion and even if nothing suits him, he also knows that Vladimir will agree to give him money to buy a new suit.

He was quick to tell Vladimir and Aaron about his idea, of course, and talks to them every chance he gets. And given that he's the darling of the manor, you can be sure he'll have everything he needs to organise your dream wedding.

He couldn't see himself making his proposal outside the manor, going out seemed too complicated and he knew he would be anxious enough as it was, so Vladimir's garden seemed a perfect alternative. He knows that the area around the little bench is particularly pretty when lit by lanterns.

As for the proposal itself, he doesn't really know what to do. He's usually good with words, but he knows he has a tendency to be a bit too talkative, especially when he gets carried away with his emotions. He could talk about you for hours without getting bored, so he can't see how he could propose without overdoing it. He asks Vladimir and Aaron for advice, of course, but his friends just tell him that if you're in a relationship with him, it's probably because you appreciate his sensitivity.

So he continued to write different marriage proposals, which he then rehearsed to make sure they sounded right.

Sometimes doubt assails him to the point of waking him up suddenly: maybe you don't really love him, he probably doesn't deserve you. He'll end up bringing you bad luck, just as he brought bad luck to Margarita and Alessio. His restlessness always ends up waking you up, and even if you don't understand why he's suddenly so anxious and still refuses to tell you what's going on, you always manage to reassure him. Once he's calmed down and is lying in bed with you, he relaxes again, of course you love him and he's not bad luck. You're both safe.

You suspect that something is going on, it would be quite complicated not to understand it anyway. Ethan elbowed Aaron several times when he was talking about you and Raphael, Vladimir swears he's not hiding anything from you but he stammers as soon as you ask a question about Raphael before fleeing to his room, Beliath and Ivan are playing innocent. You know it's suspicious, you know them well enough now to be certain that their behaviour is hiding something from you.

On the evening of the proposal, Raphaël invited you to take a stroll in the garden. For once, the garden was lit by multiple small lanterns. You sat down together on the garden bench. Raphaël listened to you talk without interrupting, while he tried to summon up the courage to propose, his hand gently caressing yours, the crickets chirping around you soothingly. He took a breath before gently closing his eyes under his blindfold. This was the moment, he clasped the small box containing the ring in his hand before beginning to speak.

His voice was as soft as ever as he concentrated on telling you everything he felt. He felt he had far too much to say and not enough time. In his stress, he clasped your hand in his and wouldn't let go. He would have liked to talk at greater length about everything he loved about you and all the reasons why he wanted to spend eternity with you, but he didn't want to be the only one talking either.

When he stopped talking, all his concentration was on you. He listened to the rhythm of your breathing and paid close attention to your every movement. He waited for your response with great tension and the faint but present fear that you would refuse. When you agreed before kissing him, he felt tears of happiness well up in his eyes.

The engagement ring is expensive and has a complex design, with several twists intertwining around a central diamond stone. It looks quite old, and inside the ring is a line from her favourite love poem.

Ethan :

He wanted to have a partner when he was a kid, but he didn't want to get married. He followed his parents to a lot of weddings and he hated it. You had to sit still, listen to the adults, not stain your clothes, not bother the adults, it was a bore! He wanted to play, have fun and make noise. OK, so maybe he stained the wedding dress of one of his mother's friends at a wedding… maybe two, well, he was considered a disobedient little devil always on the lookout for something new to do, but in his defence, weddings are very boring when you're a kid.

When he was a teenager, he stopped going to weddings and instead went out to have fun with his friends in town. It was much more fun and enjoyable that way and, above all, he wasn't stuck all day with people he didn't know and aunts and uncles wanting to know more about his love affairs. After his transformation, he didn't think about it at all. It was bad enough that he wasn't sure he'd ever have a partner who would love him despite his transformation into a vampire, so a wedding?! All his old friends were dead, all the new friends he made ended up running away from him, he no longer had any family. According to him, he had more chance of running into an alien while shopping than of ever getting married.

His point of view changed when he started to be in a relationship with you. You often spoke to him about marriage and the joy you seemed to feel at the idea was infectious. The more you talked about it with him, the more he found himself considering the idea of marrying you.

Initially, he just wanted to ask you to marry him, nothing grandiose or grandiloquent, just a simple proposal while you were alone together. Beliath stopped him, telling him that he needed something memorable, and so did Raphael and Vladimir, much to his dismay. But that's not how he sees it. He loves you, isn't that enough for a proposal?

He doesn't want to propose to you in a restaurant, it's too cliché and not discreet enough. It's not that he appreciates discretion, but he's not like Beliath and he doesn't want people sharing this moment with you - it's your moment, after all. But no matter how much he thinks about it, he can't find anywhere that suits what he's looking for. The forest is Aaron's place, the garden Vladimir's, the library Raphael's. He doesn't want to propose to you at the Moondance because, once again, he wants to be alone with you.

Meanwhile, you suspect that something is going on, your partner seems a little off every time, as if he's worried about something. At first, you simply asked him if anything was wrong, but Ethan denied it completely. When you asked Beliath if he knew what was worrying Ethan, the half-incubus told you there was no problem at all. You didn't believe him, of course, Beliath lies well, but you've lived with him long enough to know when he's lying.

Weeks went by and he still couldn't find the perfect place for his proposal, but he keeps the ring in his jacket pocket in case a good opportunity arises, and it stays there for a long time before it does.

There was a big funfair in town and, as always, Ethan insisted that you go with him. By the end of the evening, you were tired from the rides and the hours spent browsing the stalls, so you decided to take a ride on the Ferris wheel. The vast majority of people had long since left and the two of you climbed into a large gondola. You leaned back comfortably against Ethan to admire the scenery around you.

At that moment, Ethan realised that this was the moment he'd been waiting for. You were alone in front of a magnificent landscape, the streets of the old town dimly lit below, the music from the funfair barely audible, the sky clear so you could see the stars that dotted it.

Your vampire clutched the little box containing the ring before calling out softly to you. You raised your head to look at him before smiling and kissing him, which reinforced his idea, there was no better moment. He took the box out of his pocket and started talking. He's never been good at being romantic, he knows that, he also knows that he'll never find words strong enough to express clearly how he feels about you. But he knows that if this evening could last forever, he would be the happiest of men. He tells you how he feels about you, how happy he is to spend time with you, how much he wants to see you happy.

When he stops talking, you're still against him, and the love he sees in your eyes makes him blush. You straighten up a little so that you're not leaning all the way against him before kissing him, maybe his eyes are a little wet as he responds to your kiss by pulling you closer to him, but he never thought he'd feel so loved.

It's a fairly simple ring, Ethan didn't go for complexity. It's in white gold, topped with a single sapphire. The stone is very small, but the colour is magnificent and reminds you a little of the colour of Ethan's eyes.

Neil :

Neil had attended many of his father's weddings when he was still a very young child, and he had already understood that love marriages didn't exist among people like him. However, he appreciated this, as he also understood that weddings were above all a manifestation of power and wealth. All his father's weddings dwarfed the weddings of the kingdom's noble families in terms of pomp and money.

The concept of a love marriage always seemed a little strange to him, and he sometimes heard his brothers talk about it without really understanding what he meant by it.

He married many times, never for love, always to consolidate his power. That's not to say he never appreciated the women he married, but he didn't love them romantically; at best, he shared their sense of humour and their desire for power; at worst, they pretended to put up with each other and spent as little time with each other as possible.

Since you've been together, he's found himself thinking about marriage in a different way. You seem to like the idea a lot, even more than that you talk about it often and seem enchanted by the idea of marrying him. He can't deny that the happiness you seem to feel at the idea of marrying him touches him, he would never have thought it would do anything to him, but it does. He loves to hear you talk about marriage as you lie against him on the sofa in the living room. He takes a good long look at you and thinks how beautiful you would look in your wedding clothes.

In the days that follow, he looks for a place to propose to you. He wants the venue to be magnificent, after all, you deserve the best. He immediately thought of a great restaurant, but he can't just book a table in a restaurant, it has to be much better than that. He takes advantage of the times when you don't feel like going out to tour the city's top restaurants.

Once he's found the perfect place, he starts looking for a ring, just like the restaurant, he doesn't want to settle for something simple and it takes him a long time to find what he's looking for, often it doesn't feel grand enough, not unique enough. He wants you to feel like the most precious and important person in his life, so he can't be satisfied with a simple ring, even one from a luxury jeweller.

His behaviour intrigues you, of course; Neil goes out more often than usual and always avoids answering your questions on the subject. It quickly becomes a little game between you, after all, eternity is sometimes long and you have to know how to have fun. You try to spy on him to find out what he's up to while you're away, but it's hard for you to get an answer because your partner goes to such great lengths to keep his secret.

Finally, after several weeks, he invites you to the restaurant and gives you a sumptuous outfit, as usual, Neil's taste in clothes is perfect, the outfit couldn't have suited you better, you spend a moment admiring yourself in the mirror before joining your partner who is also dressed up.

He takes you to the most expensive and chic restaurant in town. You go up to the top floor of the restaurant and when you enter the large room there are just the two of you. The large picture windows give a magnificent view of the city below and the mountains in the distance, the room is lit by subdued light and soft music can be heard. Neil invites you to sit at the only table in the centre of the room. In this setting, you have the impression of being the main character in a great romantic film, and that's not unpleasant - all your vampire's attention is focused on you.

The two of you talk for a long time and you observe your partner sometimes playing with one of his locks of hair. You know that this is a little habit he has when he's feeling stressed and it intrigues you.

Finally, at the end of the meal, he straightens up in his chair to stand even straighter than he already was before taking your hand in his. Neil speaks softly but with a sure voice and you feel lulled by the sound you like so much. He hasn't thought much about what he wants to tell you, which is what's so wonderful about you, he's not playing a chess game, he can be frank and tell you how he feels without being afraid that you'll take advantage of it to hurt him later. He feels free, free to express his love for you and to give you everything you want. Neil talks at length, about the time you've spent together so far, about all the things he'd like to do with you in the future.

When he stops talking, he doesn't let go of your hand. He's never had any doubts about your answer, and when you stand up to kiss him he welcomes you with joy.

The ring is very expensive and it shows. It's in white gold and looks as if it's been tailor-made to fit your finger. You'll never see another like it, because it was made for you and you alone.

Léandra :

Since marriage doesn't really exist among succubi, she has never been interested in it. The only thing that could resemble it is a small ceremony that is not recognised as official by his people.

Léandra has already taken part in human weddings, but she enjoys being invited more, for the hunting and the festive atmosphere that always accompanies weddings. She has never wanted to get married herself, nor has she ever understood what would make a human want to get married.

Since you've been a couple, her opinion has changed on a lot of things. At first, she would never have thought she was capable of falling in love, but it's been the case, she's fallen in love with you, your way of being, everything that makes you the person you are.

You often talk to her about marriage, it's not an idea that would have occurred to her on her own, but she enjoys hearing you talk about it. You seem so happy with the idea and your happiness is contagious. She knows she'd do anything to make you happy and see you smile, so of course if you want a wedding she's ready to go with you without the slightest hesitation.

Léandra has even considered inviting her brother, as she doesn't have many friends among the succubi who could attend her wedding with you, not many friends who would look favourably on it, and she doesn't want to put you in any more danger than you already are by going out with her.

The more time goes by, the more she likes the idea of marriage. Yes, you could get married together. She could see you in your wedding cloth, beautiful as usual. The only problem is that she doesn't really know what a human wedding is like, admittedly she's been to a few, but that was for the party, not the ceremony.

After several weeks of reflection, she finally asked her little brother for advice, and he stammered in surprise for several seconds before asking her if he had understood what she meant. Once she'd got over the shock, Beliath tried to advise her as best he could, but his ideas didn't suit her: a restaurant is nice, but she doesn't particularly like the atmosphere or the idea. She's not very good with words either, and she's not sure she'll be able to tell you clearly how she feels about you - no one has ever taught her to be sentimental, let alone express emotions like love.

She likes the idea of giving you an engagement ring but… Léandra knows that for demons getting married, it's customary to give a dagger, but it's not just any dagger, it has to be enchanted to have the ability to kill a demon. It's a symbol of trust to offer such a weapon to your partner, but she hesitates, as it's not very common among succubi and she's afraid you'll find it aggressive in some way. It's a far cry from the customary human engagement ring. But you love her, you're not afraid of her and who she is, so maybe you wouldn't mind after all?

You soon notice that your partner is not in her normal state, although you can't say exactly why. Léandra's head often seems to be elsewhere and she sighs more often than not, as if something were preoccupying her mind. It's a far cry from her usual good humour and it worries you a little. You know that not all succubi take a very positive view of your partner's relationship with you, but Léandra reassures you that you're both in no danger. She's worried about something else, but despite your questions you can't work out what it is.

Time goes by and she still doesn't know how to propose. There's always her brother's idea of inviting you to a restaurant, but try as she might, it doesn't suit her. She's already not very good with emotions, let alone in a crowd of people, and she needs to be alone with you to tell you how she feels.

Her hesitation leads her to wait a little longer, until one night. You are alone with her in a large hotel room, lying on the bed with your back against Léandra while her wings cover you both as if in a cocoon. Her thoughts wander as she smells your scent against her and watches you wrap a lock of her hair around your fingers. She realises she's never felt so soothed, having you against her has made her feel good in a way she's never felt before.

Léandra doesn't really know where to start - talking about love has never been one of her skills. She hesitates over words and phrasing, far from her usual self-assurance. There's so much she wants to tell you, but doesn't know how.

But she talks to you about how she feels, about the moments of happiness she shares with you and how she wants them to go on forever, her voice has emotions you've never heard from her before, her eyes look at you with love.

When she falls silent and awaits your response, you gently turn to face her before kissing her, her arms closing around you more firmly as her wings flutter slightly.

The dagger she offers you is magnificent and undoubtedly required a great deal of work on the part of its creator. The blade is a bewitching deep black, engraved in a demonic language, and the pommel and the cross-guard are encrusted with precious stone. It looks as fearsome as it is magnificent.

Farah :

Farah grew up in a small village in the countryside, and weddings were always big celebrations where the whole village got together to celebrate the event, sometimes even strangers passing through were invited to join in. When she was a child, she used to enjoy these events immensely, playing with the other children, running among the guests and tables, eating until she couldn't swallow anything. It was also a chance to put on her best clothes.

She never forgot the happiness she felt at these events, even after she and her brother had run away from her father. They were still sometimes invited to weddings where they didn't know anyone but where people wanted to share their happiness. After being transformed into a werewolf it became more complicated, although, but the pack evolved, she attended fewer weddings, isn't very common among werewolves, but there were some organised all the same. Most of the time, these took place deep in the forest, to make sure they were not disturbed by humans. Those who knew how to play music brightened up the forest with their songs, and the party lasted until the early hours of the morning.

Since you've been in a relationship, she's already thought about proposing to you many times, even more so since you told her what you'd like for a wedding. She briefly discussed it with the other members of the pack and of course everyone was very enthusiastic about the idea, so encouraged by them, she decided to go for it.

However, she doesn't really know how to propose. She imagines something quite romantic, a proposal in a beautiful landscape, telling you how much she feels for you and how happy she is to share her life with you. Words aren't always her forte though, she knows she tends to be a bit too direct, she wants you to feel like you're someone special on that day, because you are to her. She'll go round the forest looking for a romantic place to propose to you, and then she'll head into town to go round the jewellery shops looking for an engagement ring that suits you.

You've noticed some changes in Farah's behaviour and in the behaviour of the pack. Your partner often seems to have her head in the clouds, she sometimes goes off without telling you where she's going, she whispers things to the other members of the pack before looking at you innocently when you ask her what they're talking about. And that's not all, Willie sometimes looks at you both and smiles, and for an old grump like him that's pretty unusual. Hellébores comes out of her usual shyness to silence Mathéo and you've already seen Ashlynn and your doctor signal the child to be quiet several times. In fact, everyone seems to know something you don't, and that only makes you more curious.

On the night of the proposal, you followed Farah through the forest for a while before arriving at a large flower-covered clearing, the quarter-moon overhead lighting up the place with a fairy-like appearance, you spent a brief moment observing the place before seeing Farah turn towards you holding a small box firmly against her. Gently, she takes one of your hands in hers before taking a breath.

There are lots of things she'd like to say to you, the responsibilities of the pack seem lighter to her now that you're there to help her, she never tires of waking up next to you, your breathing when you sleep next to her soothes her and gives her a feeling of security she hasn't felt for a long time. Every day, she has the impression that she loves you a little more than the day before; your facial expressions, the way you speak and your smiles flood her with a happiness she never thought possible. Spending eternity with you has become a matter of course, because she can no longer imagine the world without your presence by her side.

When she falls silent to let you answer, she knows there's still a lot she'd like to tell you. Her heart is pounding in her chest, but she can't take her eyes off you for even a second. And when you lean in to kiss her, she closes her arms around you to pull you closer. Farah feels as if she could spend eternity in this position.

The ring has a very simple look, you can wear it for any occasion and she's even bought you a little necklace to go with it if you prefer to wear it around your neck, which can sometimes come in handy when you have to work with your hands, so you don't lose it or snag it while you're working. It's adorned with a tiny orange topaz that reminds you of the colour of the sky when the sun goes down.

[bitethedevil]

Writer game!

What recurring themes/topics in your writing do you have?

TW: Talk of Abuse and Trauma

Also: beware of spoilers if you haven't yet read Living with The Devil You Know and want to.

I think in general there’s a big theme of trauma and abusive and toxic behavior in my writing. This is also why I prefer writing Dark!Raphael. It’s almost hard not to include those subjects with him, which might be why I’m enjoying writing him so much. I’ve directed plays in the past, and for some reason the major theme in those plays have always ended up being trauma.

It’s an interesting concept to explore I think, and perhaps also, on a more personal note, because I find it therapeutic to explore it through art. Also, before I keep yapping, I also just want to say that there is no wrong way to experience trauma, and that the things I write about are mainly from my own perspective and things I have learned about myself through dealing with my past and by talking to others with similar experiences (Nothing to worry about at all btw, I am better than I have ever been. Therapy is a godsend).

I try to make it as realistic as I can. Such as small things and reactions from my characters that I don’t blatantly point out is due to trauma, but it makes sense in that context.

My best example is Tav in ‘Living with The Devil You Know’ (Spoilers). She’s grown up with a cruel father who beat her, and it’s hinted at that he also verbally abused her. Her trauma presents itself both mentally and physically in the form of the burn scars on her face that she had chosen to hide for years.

Ironically, it’s Raphael who reveals them, even though he is the same kind of man as her father was. She shows it to him without knowing if he accepts her for it or he simply does it to ‘pour salt in the wound’, so to speak. Tav also learns that just ignoring her scars of the past, metaphorically and literally, does not mean that they have gone away.

On the other hand, she also continues the cycle of abuse in a way. She’s cold, selfish and overly practical at times towards other people, because that is how she has learned to survive. She begins to see herself as evil instead of trying to understand where it is all coming from, which I think unfortunately is very realistic for many survivors of abuse. It’s much easier to simply demonize oneself than to start dealing with the past and explore where those survival mechanisms are coming from.

I also think their relationship is depressingly representative of a lot of abusive and toxic relationships. I think that very few people figure out immediately that ‘Oh shit. My partner is cruel and abusive towards me, and they are actually not a good person’. It’s more ‘Oh they did manipulate me that one time, and they did do that other horrible thing too, but other times they are really nice and loving! They’re human too and makes mistakes!”.

Tav rationalizes the shit out of everything that man does A LOT. I love writing characters like that. With Tav specifically, her tragic flaw is that she has been abused in the past. She knows how it works. She is aware of what’s going on. And still: a part of her thinks she deserves it, because she sees herself as ‘evil’ too.

(Spoilerspoilerspoiler if you haven’t read the latest chapter. Though it is pretty obvious that it would happen eventually) Even after she is freed, as she has longed for, she goes right back to him, though she knows exactly what kind of person he is. Because the depressing truth about a lot of untreated trauma is that abuse and evil starts feeling safer and more like home, than a functional relationship ever could, because such a relationship is unknown.

I find Raphael interesting for many reasons, but the themes of abuse and toxicity are so interesting for me to work with when it comes to him, because it just makes sense. An abusive relationship with an abusive person on paper sounds horrible and one might not understand how those things even happen. Like why would a person ever “”accept”” being abused?

But then you see someone like Raphael, who we all know is an evil little shit, and we still love him. We still want to be with him, and we are still attracted to him. He has his redeeming qualities and it’s very possible that he has been through some shit himself, sure, but that’s the point: such is the case with most abusers. They don’t appear as monsters or devils (though Raphael quite literally does), they appear as nuanced human beings. Doesn’t make them less abusive or dangerous though.

I like writing about conflicted people who does things against their best interests, because they have been somehow wired or indirectly forced to do so. I like making my characters take decisions that are objectively ‘stupid’, but still make myself (and the reader, hopefully) think about if I really would have done much differently given the same circumstances?

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

(And thank you so much for letting me participate and giving the opportunity to yap about my writing <3<3)

[snackugaki]

... just make an iteration* for fun, I said

a universe where they've made it into their late 30s-early 40s and they chill and can be serene in the company of friends and family for once. maybe a flashback or two for the action moments

"fix" your childhood turtles so they can have a reprieve and some shenanigans, i reasoned with myself--

WELP.

my tmnt au iteration (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt au iteration part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9

tmnt au iteration omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

lny visit 1 | 2

is this actually new ramblings for the iteration or like one new lore bit and just a rerererererehashing of lore i sprinkled across the other posts.

first though, with my sorta-outsider-not-active-participant-in-fandom history I realized "au" isn't the proper term for what I've been doing, the more suitable term is "iteration".

and we're gonna sit with the fact that even someone at my old-ass age recognized my previous understanding of a term was, for all intents and purposes, not entirely correct and that I acknowledged it, rectified when I could, and that's it, it can be that easy.

...

okay back to the bullshit.

so my Mondo was introduced in the Archie run, a funky guy with a metal band called Merciless Slaughter, dressed like a punk Hulk, all around good peoples, hung out with the Mutanimals.

His design cobbling isn't too deep, I don't think. Just thought it'd be more rad if he looked more like a guy who fronts a band called Merciless Slaughter while remaining the same ol' Mondo inside, post mutation.

Kept some of his original color palette around in his hat, his pants, his NYHC logo (links) knockoff, and his little dyed leather cord bracelets.

the letters for the logo are for, Skate or Die (across), and Merciless Slaughter (down)

hmm still waffling on if I'm more tickled by him being taller than Mikey or the same height (5'4")

_________

and now for the rererererehash rambling because none of this design progression is coming out linear for me. so super quick, am an original 90s turtlemania survivor, Rise brought me back, gorged Rise then Bay then 2007 movie then rererererewatching of Next Mutation and the 90s trilogy for fun then hacking my way back through the Archie and Mirage runs then caught up with IDW and then just... slogging through 2003 and 2012 which honestly I feel like I got the gists of through gif sets alone.

one hand I can see why old fans (90s turtlemania) didn't seem to like the Rise designs, ours really were just the same li'l green dude but in different colors and hit sticks looks-wise. But here comes Rise with all the character design classics: different shapes! different sizes! exaggeration! and that's on top of all the nudges and twists made to the usual lore; Raphael is now the oldest, Leo and Donnie are now twins, they're different species of turtles, they're tools for war, brand new antagonists etc.

idk, to me when I was watching that shit, it was fun and refreshing so... ionno, built different cope maybe to the other oldheads pissing their pantaloons still ig whatevs

what tickles me most, personally, is the utter fuckton of Rise AUs, and a few Rise-driven iterations, and also some of the other non canon media iterations. so tickled that I got hit by the makeaniterationigitis itllbefunoccocal virus too. UnU (i'm kidding, i'm having so much fucking fun) just I'm addressing the flowers I wanna give to the kids who took Rise's take on tmnt and just RAN with the "different turtle species" from full out coloring their turtles the same as the species they picked to mimicking Rise's design language with different markings.

God, the markings thing just really nestled into my heart, it's such a simple thing and yet it took Rise to just try it, not even a lot, just a little for flavorrrrr. It's just enjoyable as fuck to me tbh and I'm sharpening my teeth when I revisit my coloring choices for the 8th time... fuck where was I?

right, mine are mistakes. wrongright place at the wrongright time, mutagen was there and now they can swing swords around and eat pizza.

someone(s) was high tailing it outta a TGRI lab with some mutagen barrels, driving recklessly while a bunch of eco-vigilantes had broken out of a pet shop that was the face of a black market pet trade/medicine/exotic food racket of endangered species. hence where their bit of human pre-mutagenic contact comes from (the strike team of people who freed them from their cages because all of them were endangered species & destined for a tank, a cutting board or a pill box); including a sea turtle Venus, Leatherhead, Tokka, Rahzar, Man-Ray some others etc etc. Jennika keeping her origin because it was dope as fuck. splinter was just there watching this symphony of human fuckery happen and decided to adopt some kids with no one asking (it was tang shen's onryo that is rooted in Splinter's mind that was asking, shh)

and ever since it clicked when I was gathering ref shots, ✨sea turtle Venus just makes sense✨ to me, it's taken my brain stem and rung it like a bell for new year's nonstop and i am not mad

... fuck, I am but also am not looking forward to when I start delving into ninjutsu, ninpo, Venus' whole schtick and how the supernatural fits into this world that I definitely don't need to be fleshing out this much just to draw them chilling on April's couch.

i've got like over 70 refs, holy shit