#eventual poly hinge

[joannasteez]

tanks of blood - table of contents

pairing: biker!roman reigns x black reader , biker!cody rhodes x black reader warning: blood and violence. drugs and alcohol. all of the aforementioned will be explicitly stated and described. explicit descriptions of sex, angst and eventual fluff. some chapters will be flashbacks, all of which will have an asterisk next to the link. others will be present time. minors please do not interact with chapters containing aforementioned explicit sexual content. authors note: ok lets try this again. second times a charm. every times a charm as long as i'm having fun! this is probably my oldest roman idea. going way back to before i even started writing for him. shout outs to @333creolelady for CONSTANTLY hearing me rant about this idea lol.

HISTORY

Bloodline Motorcycle Club was founded in the early 1970's and finds its home on the pensacola panhandle.

SOME WORDS

bloodlines are created lovingly. preserved violently. "let there be", and so they came. bursting into existence with a rage akin to the sun, and a daring persistence most similar to life itself. bloodlines are long, some short and others undying. connected through metal and chrome. through blood, bone and tissue. through the love that made them.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

(1) circa '09 * (2) accessories are meant to be worn (3) a funeral, and the second coming back (4) i’ll be your mirror * (5) the trouble was always here (6) the trouble was always here - part 2 (7) eighteen is dangerous * (8) muddy coffee & supermarket cake

ESSENTIALS AND MISCELLANEOUS

the hierarchy

[gempearlrpf]

rpf writers send help - how do you guys do that discord message formatting thing?

I wanna use it for a fic idea I had 👉👈

[hellvcifer]

CARING FOR YOU WHEN YOU'RE SICK— ଘ drabbles ┆part 1

ft. pairings :: blitzø, stolas, poly!fizz/ozzie, poly!moxxie/millie // gn!reader wc :: 4.3k note :: i am still trying to flush out this sickness! it's awful but here's some more drabbles. ozzie and fizzy's is so long omg i have fizzmodeus brain rot and got carried away !! warnings :: canon typical language, pet names used instead of y/n (darling, dear, honey, bunny, babe, baby, pumpkin, sweetie), reader throws up, descriptions of throwing up, blitzø using insults as pet names, a little suggestive (blitzø and fizzmodeus)

꒰ BLITZØ ꒱

Moxxie held the phone away from his ear as he heard you trail into another coughing fit. “Can you please just tell him I can’t make it in today?” 

“You should really call him yourself.” He paced, worry etched into his brow. Millie glanced at him in concern. “If I tell him you’re sick–”

“Dont!” Your plugged nose filtered your voice. “Don’t tell him I’m sick…”

“What, why?” Moxxie paused, thinking about his boss and what exactly could happen if he were to say something. “Nevermind.” He shook his head. “What exactly am I supposed to tell him?”

“Tell who, what?” 

“Gyah!” Moxxie jolted, phone flying out of his hand as he zipped to turn and face his boss. Blitzø entered, eyes scanning the room. “Uh, nothing, Sir!”

“As much as I would love to tear you a new hole and fuck it, Mox, I have more important matters. Like finding out where the fuck my assistant is.” He frowned, realizing you hadn’t shown up yet. 

“Oh, uh, right!” Moxxie glanced at Millie, searching for some sort of answer.

“Out!” She spoke up, hands slamming on the table as she stood from her seat. “Told us to let you know! Something about picking up a recent order made for an upcoming client.”

“Fuck yeah!” Blitzø grinned before glaring, “See Mox, that’s how you get shit done. Instead of sitting here on your ass, jerking off.” 

“What? But Sir–”

“Anyways!” He strutted past the two and waltzed into his office. “Don’t bother me, I’ve got important shit I’m doing in here!” His words were followed by the slam of the door. Moxxie and Millie shared eye contact before releasing a relieved sigh.

Blitzø immediately walked over to his desk, lounging back in his chair and kicking his feet up. The place felt a bit off without you around. Typically, you two would sneak off into his office to hang out or mess around when you didn’t have any client work. 

He opened the drawers and saw the makeshift mini-figures he created of Millie, Moxxie, and you. A huge grin appeared on his lips, tongue sticking out happily. He knows exactly how to pass the time until you get back in the office. 

Except, you hadn’t come into the office for the rest of the day. Which okay, sure, you’re probably busy. But, eventually the one day turned into two; and then three; and now four. He stared down at his phone, seeing the last text you sent him five days ago. He really meant to send something, to check up on you. But would you even care if you hadn’t reached out to him first?

His eyes widened, jaw falling slack at the thought. That is until he heard Millie call out your name in an excited tone. He smiled instantly and jumped his desk, nearly ripping the door to his office off the hinges. 

“Fucking finally you show up!” He leaned against the frame, a smirk appearing on his face with his brow raised. Until he couldn’t find you. “What the–”

Millie was huddled over Moxxie’s shoulder, looking down at her phone in his hands. Loona was chilling at her desk watching videos on her own phone. “Oh, sorry, Sir. We just got a text… That’s all.”

They got a text? And not him? He gritted his teeth. “Okay, what the fuck do you– I mean. I’m the boss so– Fuck! You know what! They’re fired! See how they get by without a job, that Ass fucker.” 

“Uh, Blitzø?” Millie tried to calm him down. “You’re not actually gonna fire–”

“Oh don’t you worry your little head about it, Millie!” He stomped into a pace in front of the white board. “I’ll find out wherever the fuck they’ve been hiding and make sure–”

Loona’s phone went off, interrupting Blitzø’s rampage. Everyone stopped to look at her when she picked it up. “Hey… Yeah… You need more? Already? Yeah that’s fine… I’ll see you soon.” She hung up. The silence in the room caused her eyes to slide over to the others. They all blinked at her. 

“Oh no! You’re not going to see anyone missy!” Blitzø wagged his finger at her. She stood up, weight shifting to one side as she jutted her hip out. “Not until we find out where my shit face assistant is hiding!” 

“Are you serious?” Loona frowned at him. “They’re at their apartment.” 

“What.”

“I’ve been dropping stuff off these past few days while–”

“Oh that sexy dick sucker is gonna fucking pay!” He stormed out, not even hearing the rest of what Loona was going to say. She huffed.

“I’m not dealing with that.” She sat down in her chair again and went back to her phone. As much as she didn’t mind helping you while you recovered, she wasn’t going to try to interfere with the relationship you had with her dad. 

You felt your body tense at the loud noise heard from beyond your bedroom. Someone had knocked on your front door. You churned it up to one of your neighbors or someone with the wrong address and slowly closed your eyes once more.

The incessant banging prevented you from falling back to sleep. Now, a familiar voice had tacked on to the noise and caused you to let out a groan.

“Alright Dipshit, I know you’re in there! Open up the fuck up!” 

Knowing he’d eventually bust the door off the hinges or break the window, you arose from your sickened bedding and shuffled towards the front door with your blanket. “Go away!” You shouted, followed by a few short coughs. That stopped his thumping. 

“Gross, why the fuck do you sound like that?” 

“Oh fuck you, Blitzø!” You really had zero patience. The past few days your flu has only been getting worse. Loona tried to help out with the few things she brought over but whatever sickness you had was stubborn as hell. 

It was quiet… You encircled your blanket tighter around you as you got closer to the door, looking through the peephole and seeing that he was no longer there. Damn. Guess that worked. Which was odd knowing Blitzø.

“What the shit is this?!” Shouting came from your bedroom, followed by shuffling feet and your door slamming open to reveal the person you thought had left. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Oh my Satan.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to your couch, feeling yourself become overly hot. “You can’t just break in when I don’t open the door!” You relinquished your blanket while sitting down. “I told you to leave!” 

“Yeah right!” He strutted over. “Just tell me the real reason you’re avoiding me!” Your eyes widened.

“What?”

“You may think your sorry ass was gonna get away with this,” He began pacing in front of your couch. “But I’ve got you all figured out.” He gestured wildly with his words.

“Blitzø.”

 “Texting with M&M… having my own Loonie visit you… not talking with me at all!”

“Blitzø!”

 “You really think it could go on without me–”

“I’m sick you dumbass!” You shouted and spurred a few coughs from you. He paused, slowly turning towards you. He finally took a real good look at your form. Runny nose that was rubbed to dry, bleary eyes, sunken cheeks. 

His eyes widened. “You mean… You didn’t just play hooky to avoid me?”

“No!” You shook your head. “Satan no, I would love to be at work right now.”

Blitzø sighed and glanced at your bedroom, seeing the trail of snotty tissues he pushed through to get to your living room. “Well that explains those.” 

You tried to smile, though it came off wearily. “Not to mention, I’ve thrown up twice already.” He glanced back at you. “And that’s just today!” It was quiet as he peered at the floor. 

He walked over, sitting next to you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your eyes met his, seeing them drill into your own with a hidden desire of curiosity and… hurt.

“Because…” You glanced away. “Clients have been slow… And, when I saw the rush of appointments we had this week, I didn’t want anything to mess it up or… Be in the way.” You squeezed your hands around your arms.

You felt something gently encircling your waist before yanking you closer to Blitzø. You peered down to see the tip of his tail. He rested his head against your own, sighing. “Fucking idiot.” He whispered. And although it was an insult, you know that it was from a place of endearment.

You scoffed a laugh before poking him in the chest. “You’ll get sick.”  You tried to push him away. He merely brushed your hands away and pulled you closer to him. 

“Fuck it, a few days off of work doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Except I’ll be the one that has to take care of your whiny ass when you do get sick.” 

He glanced at you. “Damn… your raspy voice is making my dick so hard right now.” He wiggled his eyebrows a few times. “Wanna fuck?” He smirked.

Leaning in, you feel a flutter within your stomach.“Oh~ Blitzø.” You whined, eyes half-lidded. Your cheeks filled with liquid before releasing the contents of your soup from earlier. Chunks flew onto his lap and all over the couch. The horrid taste coated your tongue as leftover bile leaked down your chin.

Blitzø sighed, slowly pushing your heaving face away from his dick. “Yeah I probably deserved that.”

꒰ STOLAS ꒱

The bird prince had just finished preparing himself, placing his crown on and taking one last glance in the mirror. He would be meeting you soon and wanted to look his best considering you both would be spending the whole day together. His phone buzzed and he chirped with excitement. He made quick steps over to his phone with a smile. That is, until he saw your text.

Stolas honey, I can’t make it. I’m so sorry.  I think I’ve caught some kind of flu. Can we reschedule?

He felt his brows crease immediately, frown sinking its way onto his lips. “Flu?” He questioned. Well this wasn’t good at all. His fingers immediately began typing.

Hello darling, I’m so sorry to hear that… Perhaps we could be together even while you're sick. A little company while feeling ill always seems to help me.  Would you like it if I came over? I could help take care of you while you recover. I don’t mind really, I just want to make sure you have everything you need to feel better. Of course, we don’t have to if you don’t want to

He anxiously awaited a reply, pacing across his room in front of his vanity. Did he come off too needy? Maybe he should have just wished you to feel better and be on his way. But how could he when his loved one is feeling sick? He saw that you read the messages and were currently typing. The bubbles went away a few times and with each passing second, he felt his stomach twist with nerves.

I really want to see you…  But I would hate for you to get sick :(

His response back was almost immediate.

No problem at all darling, I promise. A little sickness won’t harm me. I’ll see you in a few <3

After reading his text back, you wearily smiled. As much as you wanted to tell him not to come, in fear of him catching whatever bug you had, you were desperately hoping to see him today. Things had been hectic in both of your schedules so it had been awhile since you two had seen each other. Let alone have time to go out and do activities together. 

And of course, Satan was a bitch and chose today of all days to curse you. Or should you say, this entire week he’s been testing your limit. It started out as a small cough and runny nose. It might have gone away faster if you weren’t so stubborn, but that little bit turned into a full blown, body ache and fever. 

You laid back down in your bed, placing your phone on your bedside table and sighing. It will be nice to see Stolas, that’s for sure. Having been away from him for so long was taking its toll on you. He really did recharge your draining battery. You closed your eyes, thinking about his caring nature and loving words. Oh to see him will possibly end this sickness instantly.

Stolas pulled his phone out and texted that he had arrived. He grabbed the bags from his car and waved his chauffeur away. The car drove off as he walked up to your door. He knocked a few times, hoping it wouldn’t be much trouble for you to answer. “Darling?” He called out but received no answer. The prince called your cell but again, no answer. He huffed, wondering if you decided on not wanting to see him. Or what if… You were really sick. So sick that you were dying! 

Stolas broke in immediately, feet trailing through your place as if he lived there. He found his way into your bedroom, opening the door and seeing you in bed. A long breath escaped his worried lungs, feeling relief when he saw your chest moving in a deep sleep as he walked over.

“Oh, my dear.” He placed a hand on his chest, kneeling down to the side of your bed. Stolas felt an ache grow within his heart as he gazed at your form. Sweaty, shaking, breathless. You appeared tired even as you slept. “My darling, why would you push yourself like this.” He could simply tell that you didn’t get sick today alone, but were most likely not taking care of yourself as you should have been.

His hand reached out, caressing your overly warm forehead before raking his fingers lightly along your scalp. The motion slowly brought you awake, eyes fluttering open to see your lover aside your bed. 

“Stolas.” You smiled dreamily before realizing he had arrived. You pushed yourself up. “Oh my goodness, I feel asleep!” Your eyes were wide as your outburst shocked him. Sitting up so quickly, you felt pressure bloom in your head and held it. “Ow…”

“Careful, dear.” He placed a hand on your leg, circling it to soothe you with some comfort. “I’m here now. You don’t have to worry your sick–” He booped your nose. “–little head about anything.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ll always be here to take care of you.”

꒰ ASMODEUS & FIZZAROLLI ꒱

“Hm?” You felt your blurred vision focus on the jester in front of you, headache making itself even more prominent the more you tried to will it away. 

“Agree with my choice for dinner after the show tonight!” He bounced in place, arms motivating his movements. 

“Oh, uh… Yeah sure.” You stood up and quickly walked over to your vanity, a shaky hand reaching out for the edge as you sat. Asmodeus and Fizz watched as your behavior was completely different from how you typically were before a night at Ozzie’s.

“Oh Honey~” Oz's sultry voice dug into your skull. “Something the matter?” He asked, cautious of your emotions. You shook your head, a strained smile appearing on your lips. 

“Not at all!” Heat rushed over your face, a sweat now brewing from an oncoming fever. “Just nervous for tonight. The new routine and all.” You glanced away.

“Aw, our little Bunny is all shakin’ up?” Ozzie walked over, his finger caressing your chin and tilting your face to look up at him. “That don’t sound right at all~” He smirked, though you could see the underlying worry in his eyes as they dipped at the corners.

Sleek metal arms squeezed around you and brought you into a tight hug. “Don’t worry, Babe! If you forget a step or two, just look at me and I’ll help you out.” He wagged his eyebrows at you, tongue sticking out of his upturned lips.

You let out a nervous laugh, feeling the sweat begin to build up on your forehead. “Yeah, thanks, Fizzy.” He leaned in, cheeks squishing together as you both glanced at yourselves in the mirror. The clammy coating on your skin dug into your mind. You worried he might feel just how warm you were becoming due to your fever. You recoiled quickly. “Uh, I think it’s time!” You grabbed your matching cap n’ bells and placed it on your head.

Fizz was saddened at your reaction, peaking at Oz to see if he felt the weird tension coming off of you. As much as he wanted to push for more, he worried that he would upset you. But he couldn’t just let you go without doing something. “Hey.” Fizz grabbed your shoulders, turning you towards him oh so gently, his voice softening. “Are you really okay?” His eyes dewed as his lips pulled into pout. 

Your head tilted to the side, bells jingling as you did. “Yes, yes! Of course!” You released a heavy breath, stomach churning. “I’m fine! Totally fine!” Your voice cracked at the end of your words. You stepped closer to the door, escaping your dear Fizzy’s hold. “I’ll get into position now!” You opened the door, beginning to wave at them with your fingers. “Bruise some knees and make them cum, my lustful babes!” 

Finally you were free from the room, air so heavy you felt as if it weighed you down. Breathe. Just breathe. You began climbing the ladder to the catwalk to get into position for the opening act that was supposed to start shortly. Your stomach rolled a few more times with the movement, causing you to clasp a hand around your mouth. You felt the bile raise into your throat with a burp but swallowed it back down. The taste barely coating your tongue. 

Don’t. Puke. Just put on the show and everything will be fine. You grasped the stripper pole in front of you, hearing the introductions begin. Your platform would be lowered down anytime now. Your knuckles tightened around the metal. Breathe. You closed your eyes. 

A jolt sent a shake through your legs as you felt yourself beginning to descend. Slowly, the glowing eyes of the audience came into view, spotlights on you as the music blared loudly. 

“The one! The only!” Fizz spoke into the mic, arm outstretched in your direction. Breathe. Smile. Show time. He screamed your name, you flashed a strained grin and began your routine, singing your solo part. 

It was going fine for the first few minutes. Your duet with Fizz and the routine felt as if it was muscle memory. Until he grabbed your hand and began to spin you, a few times too many than what you had practiced. When he had finished, he sprung onto the opposite side of the stage and continued his performance. But you, on the other hand, were left in a dizzying mess.

You stumbled, trying to hold your bearings as much as possible. The flashing spotlights made things worse the more you tried to focus on not throwing up. Unfortunately, that made everything more difficult. The lights centered on you, awaiting your final high-note. Ozzie watched your hunched over form, his faces frowning in concern.

Fizz peered at you, his smile faltering when he noticed your hand clasped over your mouth and the pained expression you displayed. He took a few steps closer but you bolted off stage, exiting fast behind the curtain. The two remaining snapped to look at each other before Asmodeus flashed away in a heartbeat. 

Fizzy glanced at the crowd, his worrisome face disappeared to the silly grin he always held. He addressed the situation and transitioned to the next act seamlessly, covering for you as if that whole mishap was supposed to happen. He left the stage quickly while the next performance took over. Making his way in the direction you ran off in, he was able to locate you and Ozzie in the bathroom next to the dressing room. Concern etched onto his face as he saw you.

Oz had shifted to his smaller form, hand caressing your back as your head hovered the toilet bowl. “Ahw, it's okay baby. Let it out.” Sweet velvet tones caressed you in comfort as tears streaked down your face. Fizz’s heels clicked over before he sat down on the other side of you. His metal limbs cool against your heated skin. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I wanted too–” You hiccuped. 

“Hey, hey, calm down, babe.” Fizz spoke gently, petting your head as you leaned into him. “You should have told us you weren’t feeling well.”

“Froggy’s right.” Oz added. “The show means nothing if your health is at risk.” He tilted your face to look at him. “You mean everything to us. You come first.” Your eyes watered at his words, lip quivering. 

“I-I wanna go home.” You sputtered, a hand reaching out to each of them and squeezing tightly. Fizz leaned his head against yours, tail pulling you closer to him.

“I’ll nurse you better, Baby.” He smiled. 

“Sounds like,” You hiccuped, followed by a sniffle. “A fun new roleplay we can try.” You quipped with a smirk.

“And we can wear cute nurse outfits!” Fizzy kicked his feet, tongue blepped at the thought. 

Ozzie stood, shifting to his larger form and grabbing you both in his arms, lifting you. “After Bunny is feeling better, okay you two?”  He shook his head, though an endearing smile remained as he ducked through the door, ready to take his lovers home and get you on your way to recovery. 

꒰ MOXXIE & MILLIE ꒱

“Uh… Babe?”

“Yeah?” Moxxie called from the bathroom, his mouth garbled with the spit from foamy toothpaste.

Millie felt your forehead with the back of her hand, noticing your abnormal body temperature almost immediately. “Our little Pumpkin is burning up right now.”

“What?” He spat the extra fluoride into the sink and ran out into the bedroom. He saw you still in bed, body curled up and face scrunched in pain. “Oh, crumbs.” He quickly got closer, sitting on the mattress and copying his wife’s actions. His brows dipped in concern as he stared down at you, his other hand going to your shoulder and rubbing softly. 

“We’ll have to call in.” Millie bit her lip, brows furrowing. “We can’t go to work and leave ‘em here alone.”

“You’re right, Sweetie.” He stood back up. “I’ll call and look for some ibuprofen to help with the fever.”

“I’ll fix up some tea.” Millie leaned over, her lips gently placing a kiss on your clammy forehead before she walked away into the kitchen.

“Wait!” You tried sitting up even though there was an immense amount of pressure in your head. They both looked at you worriedly. “Don’t stay home…” Millie came and sat next to you, her hand rubbing your back as you held your head in discomfort. “I can take care of myself, okay?” You looked at her. “I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, honey.” Her eyes stared at you, taking in every bit of your face. “We know that. And before you were with us, that may have been what you’re used to. But ‘round here we take care of each other.” She leaned in, forehead kissing yours as you both closed your eyes at the contact. Moxxie sighed at the scene, his hands hovering his heart. 

He walked closer. “And we’ll always be here.” He kneeled on the bed, scooting closer before kissing your cheek. “We’re taking the day off. No matter what you try to say to convince us not to.” He smiled gently before grabbing his cell and returning to his task from before. 

You melted at both of their actions, the care and comfort they offered so endlessly being a new feeling to you. Typically, you’d get sick and fight through it on your own. Sleeping in bed and rotting until it finally flushed itself from your system. But this was a completely different feeling, one that you’re slowly getting used to and relishing in the affection.

Moxxie called your boss and through a shit ton of convincing, he was finally able to get Blitzø to agree and let the three of you have the day off. It was basically the entire staff for I.M.P. that wasn’t going to show up for the day, so obviously he was pissed.

Millie walked in and handed you some tea while Moxxie came over with some medication in his hand. “This should help with your fever.” You were able to take them easily and sipped your tea. 

“Need anything else right now, Sweetie?” Millie asked. You shook your head, slowly handing the tea back.

“I kinda wanna just sleep right now.” You muttered, glancing at the covers over your legs.

“Mind if we join you?” She smiled softly, her voice quiet to not make things any worse. “A little cuddle session always makes you and Moxxie feel better.”

“I don’t want you two getting sick.” You glanced between them. “As much as I would love to.”

“Well, technically we already slept together last night.” Moxxie began before crawling under the covers and getting situated on his side of the bed. 

“That’s right!” Millie followed his actions, scooting you over so you were in between them. “If we get sick, then we’ll be sick together.” She snuggled right into your side, her tail looping around you and Mox and squeezing tightly. You felt another warm sensation crawl across your skin though this time, it wasn’t due to your fever. You sighed, eyes fluttering shut, feeling your lovers’ arms circle around you.

An odd sound was heard from the ceiling before a hefty lump landed onto the bed. Everyone's eyes shot open to see a familiar person.

“Sir!?” Moxxie called out, voice raised. 

“Fuck this shit!” Blitzø got up and stormed out of the bedroom. “I thought yall would be porking it up in a sexy threeway!”

likes and reblogs appreciated !! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

[cupcakeslushie]

Hi! I have a question about the kendra x donatello x timothy ship you’re making (which I am so hyped for tbh.) Is it a sort of a hinge/Vee poly ship where Donnie is involved with both Kendra and Timothy, but Kendra and Timothy are only platonically involved or will it be a triad ship where they’re all romantically involved with each other?

(Also I totally understand if you aren’t sure yet bc this seems to be an entirely new ship you’re creating, so it’s totally fine with me if you aren’t exactly sure yet or if whatever you answer eventually changes.)

They are all romantically involved!

Tim and Kendra already dated years ago, so it’s kinda easy to rekindle that romance once Donnie and Kendra realize they actually really like each other. There’s some growing pains. Donnie will sometimes feel like he’s jealous, and Kendra will feel like an unnecessary cog in a machine that was functioning perfectly without her. Timothy will worry that he’s not giving the two an equal amount of affection.

Just those kinda common pitfalls. But Timothy is very good at making them all talk, and pretty soon it’s easier to navigate a new dynamic.

[untitledfanfictionblog]

One Single Thread

One Single Thread by jadedace, @bipolareffigy T, 55k words

Logan Howlett & Carlysle Vanessa Carlysle/Wade Wilson Logan Howlett/Wade Wilson eventual polyamory, vee/hinge relationship, soulmate AU, body swapping no smut but there is a smut sequal/epilogue

There's a whole bunch of stuff with it being a soulmates au, and people temporarily swapping bodies with their soulmate's best friend.

What you need to know, is that this fic has Vanessa and Logan going on a road trip to try and rescue Wade who has disappeared (on his whole unfortunate turning into deadpool origin thing.) And they end up best friends.

Damn it's good to see a good poly relationship in a fic, with metas being best friends.

Ironically, this fic made me ship Logan and Vanessa hard, but I've decided that's ok, there's enough room in my heart for Logan/Vanessa and Logan & Vanessa. Both is good.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

I AM BITING MY FIST AND SCREAM ABOUT HAND HER OVER II. WE NEED PT2🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻

Let's say what happened after pt - since Koko has money & connections, Inupi & his wife were able to escape safely (or maybe not)

Omi's relationship with his wife crashed really bad after what happend. As a big bro,he always took care & protected who was younger - so he felt very ashamed and guilty that he wasn't able to protect his little wife. He know deep inside that what his wife said wasn't true,she didn't blame him but feel that she doesn't deserve so caring and attentive husband and cries a lot. So he do what he should - make sure she know that he madly in love with her and his number one priority

Well, about Mochi. I am afraid of my imagination, so leave it to yours

I think I'm going to leave Mochi's as is! It seems pretty obvious what happens, no thanks to Sanzu.

Hand Her Over II Part 2: Hajime Kokonoi/Takeomi Akashi x Fem!Reader

Hand Her Over Megapost

wc: 2.1k

tw: angst, Koko is in a poly relationship with Inupi and reader, Inupi is the "hinge" in the V, angst, fluff, angst

masterlist

Hajime Kokonoi

Inupi sits on the couch, furious.

"It's gone too far," he breathes, holding you close. "Mikey's gone too far."

"I know," Kokonoi echoes, looking down at his feet. He can't be on the other side of the room with his lover. He can't even support the two of you like he wants to. It's a shame; he's not sure how things got this bad, but...

"Listen," you add, sitting up straight. "If Mikey can't control himself, we might be in more danger than we originally thought. I'm not sure we can run forever."

"We could," Inupi murmurs, looking over at you with a sad stare. "But it would cost us."

Kokonoi sighs. He shifts his head onto his hands and tries to think. Where did Mikey stop, and where did the real world begin?

"America." Inupi and you inhale sharply. "I have contacts in America that will help for the right price." Koko stands and twists his long hair around his hand briefly. A bad habit he has to get rid of eventually. "I'll send you both that way and then ensure your tracks are covered."

"You're not coming with us?" The question makes Kokonoi flinch. He could never travel with either of you without Mikey knowing. There was too much hinging on his importance to Bonten. Which is why he can't tag along.

"No," he finally admits. "I... I won't be able to go with you." You burst into tears. Kokonoi's heart wrenches in two; he loves you. He really does. And he loves Inupi. But there's no way that he can go with you two without putting you in danger.

"I'll make sure you two won't have to lift a finger while we're apart." Inupi pulls you into his chest, where you sob. "And..."

"Koko," Inupi breathes. "You don't have to stay."

"I do," he repeats, standing firm. "I'll stay behind to make sure the both of you have the best chance at staying alive and safe." Your tears don't stop, not even when Koko presses a kiss to your forehead and wipes them from your eyes with gentle thumbs. "Take care of Inupi."

You clutch him even closer, and that in itself is a comfort to him. He's felt loved before, but your reluctance to let him go makes him feel adored. "Inupi, take care of her."

"I'm giving you a month to come get us." Inupi stands just a foot away, but it couldn't be any further. Koko already feels the distance in his heart. And it's a raw ache, the type he knows he might never recover from in this lifetime. Inupi joins in, hugging Koko tightly and inhaling his scent one last time.

"Don't forget about us."

"Impossible," Koko laughs, though his eyes prick with tears. "I would never forget about my favorite people in the entire world."

Kokonoi wouldn't be a good partner if he didn't see you two off at the airport. He holds your passports with an iron grip, praying you two would turn around and stay and fight with him. But when he hands them over, Kokonoi understands he's to face his fines creation - Bonten - on his own.

"Call me when you make it," Koko murmurs, adjusting Inupi's scarf and your jacket. "I'll be waiting by the phone."

"Get some rest," you urge him, touching his cheek gently. The ring on your finger will stay there; it's still a symbol of the promise Koko made to your family to provide for you and keep you safe.

"And don't linger by the window," Inupi adds, his own hand sporting a golden band - from Koko, but to anyone outside of the three of them, it'd look like they were a married couple. Koko nods.

"Your flight will be leaving soon." Inupi ushers you away, and Koko watches wistfully, touching his own fake passport in his pocket. I could still go with them. Kokonoi looks at the ticket counter, eyeing the various people clicking away at the keyboards and weighing baggage.

"Wait," Koko whispers, looking back at your retreating figures. "Wait!" You hear him first, turning around to stare at him hopefully. Koko hurries up to the two of you, his hands shaking and his mouth forming soundless words. Inupi frowns as Koko stands in front of you both, his eyes trying to drink their fill of the couple.

"D-don't..." Kokonoi isn't sure if he can say it. "Don't..." You both stand there expectantly, and Koko can see the desire in your eyes. You want him to go with you. And maybe...

"Don't--" Koko's phone begins to buzz angrily. He stops, sucking in a harsh breath. "Don't forget about the time change." Your shoulders slump. Inupi grunts. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, seeing the name scroll across the top. Your teary hiccup is the last thing you muster before pulling free from Inupi and walking toward security. Inupi, ever the cynic, exhales and turns around, but not before muttering,

"You'll always choose him, won't you?"

When Koko picks up the call, Inupi turns away, scrubbing the tears from his eyes.

Takeomi Akashi

It's not like Takeomi to come home drunk in the middle of the day. But he staggers over the threshold, holding himself up by a thread. He hadn't been this bad since Shin died, and yet--

Something shatters when he opens the door, and Takeomi swears. When he looks behind the wooden frame, he sees a little project of yours lying on the floor in a million pieces. Whatever it had been, it's destroyed beyond repair.

"I'll... I'll... fix it," Takeomi mutters, closing the door behind him and gripping the wall for the strength to stand up.

"Not again." An exasperated sigh comes from the kitchen, and Takeomi slides down the wall, trying to take his shoes off. "I'm caring for you every day," you gripe, stomping to meet him in the foyer. "You're a lazy, drunk old man."

Takeomi burps, forgetting his efforts to untie his shoes and leaving them on as he sprawls on the floor. You approach him, face set in a grim line.

"Shoes," he slurs, pointing at his feet. "Can't get 'em off." You silently fume, but your fingers pluck at his laces, untying and undoing all of the work he'd done on them before.

"You come in drunk every day," you hiss angrily. "I have to... clean up after you, and for what?"

"Thanks," Takeomi whispers slowly, feeling your hands tug his shoes off. "Thanks, beh-beh. Shoes were really tight. Hurt." You stoop low and pull him up off the floor - your strength never ceases to amaze him - and he stumbles along with you to the bedroom. He hiccups a few times as he drags his feet, but Takeomi's mind is working at a mile a minute. It's his body that isn't responding properly.

"Y'know," he begins, wiping his mouth. "I could... we should do that thing people do when they're... together." You slide him onto the bed without responding, your eyes averted from his face. "We could... should... watch some TV and trash talk... shitty people."

"No TV," you murmur, taking off his tie and tossing it aside. "You need to watch TV like you need another hole in your head."

Takeomi laughs, pointing at each hole - two ears, one mouth, two nostrils... he has five already! "Maybe I need an extra one to round it out," he replies, leaning back on the bed and sighing. "Could use another one for all of these thoughts." You don't reply again, shifting him onto the bed fully and covering him with the sheets.

"Sleep it off," you command Omi, and he obeys, pretending to fall asleep immediately while making loud snoring noises. You grunt, putting a pillow over his face, and he laughs as he takes it off.

"Funny girl." You shake your head, the look of displeasure still on your face, and get up from the bed all in one movement. So graceful.

"I'll be in the kitchen. Shout if you need me." Takeomi opens his mouth to shout, but you add, "If it's an emergency."

"It is," he whines. "It's an emergency when you're not here."

"I'll be in the kitchen," you say again. "Five-alarm level emergencies only."

"What about six alarms?" You roll your eyes and give him a playful swat before leaving the bedroom. Takeomi debates on whether he should shout your name for the hell of it or just keep quiet and let you work on whatever you did when he wasn't here. He opts for the latter and lays back in the bed. His head is thumping with the blood that's pumping behind his eyes.

"Ugh..." Right now, Takeomi wants to swear off drinking for good. The hangover is never worth it. Takeomi exhales sharply, then resigns himself to sleep, like he should.

He wakes up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. It's hot in the room, and... his hand feels around in the darkness. You're not there.

"Baby?" Takeomi gets up out of bed slowly, trying not to trip over himself or anything else he may have left on the floor. "Babe?" His throat is parched, and he feels like death... but he needs to ensure you're okay first.

Something tugs in his gut when he hears a soft sob, and he opens the door fully before stumbling into the light of the foyer. He holds his breath and peers around the corner, finding you at the kitchen table, holding your phone to your ear as you cry.

"No, no," you choke out. "It's just... I know everything is weighing on Omi. He comes home drunk most afternoons, and I..." You break off, then sniff. "I take care of him because I know everything was so stressful, and I love him. I just don't think he loves me anymore." Takeomi clenches his jaw. Here you are, worried to death about him when your assumptions couldn't be further from the truth.

Takeomi enters the kitchen nonchalantly as if he hadn't heard what you just said. He yawns, wiping his face, then sees you wiping your eyes quickly and whispering, "I'll call you later" into the phone.

"You alright, Omi?" you wonder, standing up from the kitchen table. Takeomi shrugs, opening the fridge and grabbing a water bottle.

"Throat's sore as hell." He takes a few swigs, then turns to you.

"I can make you some tea if you want," you reply, smiling. Your nose is still red, but Takeomi can forgive that.

"I need a hug and a kiss." He opens his arms for you, and you oblige, leaning into his embrace and tucking your semi-wet face into his skin. "And a kiss?"

At his reminder, you lift your face, close your eyes, and pucker your lips. But Takeomi doesn't kiss you. Instead, he wipes your wet eyes, staring down at your puffy face in adoration.

"Why do you cry, my sweet?" he whispers, and you open your eyes. You look so sad, so forlorn, so dismayed. Takeomi's heart stops at the sight. "Are you upset with me?"

"No," you affirm, shaking your head. "Never."

"Then why are these tears running down my baby's face?" Takeomi wipes the fresh ones and clicks his tongue as you press your face back into his chest. "This won't do," he coos at you, stooping to pick you up. He scoops you into his arms and carries you to the bed, holding you against his chest even as he sits down on the comfy king. He positions you so your head is on his chest and you're straddling him; his hands run over your back and caress whatever he can touch.

"You know," Takeomi begins, regaining some sensibility. "I once had an awful time with my brother. Couldn't take care of him for shit. The guilt ate me up for years." Takeomi swallows hard. "Thought I had gotten past it." The unspoken fact that he still hadn't gotten past it didn't need to be mentioned. You knew already.

"Anyway, you shouldn't beat yourself up over all this." Takeomi strokes your hair carefully, leaning back onto the headboard. "This one was all me."

"Omi," you whimper, but he shushes you.

"I can handle it." His shoulders slump. "I'll take the blame for this. But you're my number one priority."

"But you'll drink--"

"No," Takeomi asserts. "It's not helping." You pull away from him, leaving his chest a wet, cold mess. You sniff and look up at him, holding his face between your hands.

"We should see someone about this. About everything."

"I'd do that for you." He takes your hand and kisses each fingertip, savoring the feeling of the unique fingerprint rubbing against his skin. What would he have done if you'd been taken away from him like Shin? "For us." He tilts your chin up with tender fingers. "And I still love you." And he kisses you like he means it.

[autistic-ghost]

Something that I would eventually like to explore in writing is the both Vaggie and Emily - particularly in a poly relationship and especially if Charlie's the hinge rather than them being a triad- because it looks like the show is establishing Emily as Vaggie's narrative foil .

It would be so fun to play with, especially the dynamic if vaggie is normally like very chill with Charlie's other partners but Emily makes vaggie extremely insecure because she is everything Vaggie desperately wishes she could be, taking an extremely proactive role in the winner's afterlives and advocating for them and- after the little extermination reveal - advocating for better treatment of the sinners, and maybe this insecurity that Vaggie isn't doing enough is multiplied by the fact that Charlie and Emily are in a long distance relationship at the start of the story so vaggie doesn't actually know Emily personally - she gets snippets of her character retold to her through Charlie's love-sick gushing, so the version of Emily that Vaggie knows is, quite literally, perfect.

And then maybe she falls because she's just a bit too loud about the sinners, cares too much, too radical, not unlike a certain duck-loving Morningstar we all know and love, and vaggie is left in a predicament. Charlie's girlfriend has fallen which has massive political implications, possibly removing her from the hotel for large periods of time so vaggie is left to try peice Emily back together after the most traumatic moment on her life and Emily trusts nobody - how could she?

Sooo yeah that's the current plot, I'll have to look up the ship to make sure no one has done anything too similar and make sure I'm not coping anyone by mistake cuz unlike growing pains which is pretty much just crack taken seriously this might be a concept that has already been done, possibly multiple times. Could be taken to an extremely angsty direction where vaggie breaks up or nearly breaks up with Charlie cuz of her own issues, maybe even issues that she kept so hidden that Charlie didn't even realise that Vaggie was hurting. In terms of perspective, Charlie's limited 3rd person would be really interesting to play with because both Charlie and the reader are slowly learning about what's going on with vaggie, but it would then lack a lot of impact of vaggie and Emily slowly getting to know each other and both of their character s arcs cuz Charlie would be out of the hotel and stuff, so it would probably be vaggie s limited 3rd person. I know I can show other perspectives but showing two characters perspective's makes it hard to keep that element of unreliable narrator so I tend to avoid writing it even though I've seen it done extremely well (maybe that's a reason I should attempt it but oh well) in terms of tone and angst it'll definitely be one of those that gets worse before it gets better, I have an idea for a scene where vaggie locks herself in her room and Charlie sits with her back against the door while Vaggie completely breaks down, and eventually Vaggie opens the door possibly hours later and a sleeping Charlie falls back onto the carpet and there's a cold mug of coffee next to her- I might even go full on hurt/no comfort style tragedy, but I'm not sure if I can pull it off and have it actually be cathartic (think Hamlet)

[tmnt-tychou]

Four Against One, Chapter One

So I've had people ask me about writing something like this, since I don't mind writing poly. Originally, the concept was a bunch of comedy shorts about Mona trying to date all four turtles at once and it goes about as well as you expect it to.

But then more ideas piled up and I kept changing the concept and the feel of the story. And I finally settled on this. Please keep in mind this is just a fun side project for me to explore this ridiculous idea. Do not take it seriously. I assure you, I am not taking it seriously. I'm just feeling this out and seeing where it goes.

This happens in Bayverse, in the same world as "When Leo Met Mona" only in this version, Leo did NOT meet Mona. At least, not at that time. They don't meet her until after she is mutated.

So...enjoy if you're into this sort of thing. If not, feel free to skip. As I said, this is not a project I'm taking too seriously and I will not be hurt if this isn't for you.

Also, while this chapter is clean-ish, this will eventually be an M-rated fic.

*****

The four brothers walked carefully through the rubble. Police offers were everywhere, the blue and red lights from their cars lit up the night behind them. The turtles were escorted through the building—once an ordinary lobby, now completely in shambles. Equipment had been thrown to the side, doors ripped off their hinges. Blood was smeared on the floors and walls.

This was the second time ever the New York police department had called on the turtles for help. But this time, they had no idea what they were in for. And the further they walked into the building, the more they felt like they were in over their heads.

And officer escorted them through a door in the back that led down a flight of narrow, concrete stairs to reveal an entire sub basement below the office building. Down below, it was far worse. Everything was trashed, smashed, smeared in blood. Bodies lay strewn about. Pieces of human bodies and hulking forms of...something else. Something reptilian.

“Dude, that...are those...mutants?” Michelangelo whispered harshly. There were several. Lizard-like creatures, far bigger than the turtles, laying dead with throats and bellies slashed open. Some partially eaten. Human and mutant bodies alike were everywhere. The smell of death was already beginning to rise.

Police Chief Rebecca Vincent stood among it all, the only thing orderly in all the chaos. As the turtles approached, she gestured to the nightmare around her as if they would have answers for her. But all any of them had were questions.

“What happened here?” Leonardo asked in a low tone.

The chief huffed. “That's what we're trying to figure out. This was some sort of secret lab where they were mutating animals into giant creatures for God only knows how long. Tonight, something happened. Several of these animals got out. We're still trying to piece together what happened. But we're already getting calls about monsters loose in the city. A good portion of them, it turns out, fled into the sewers.” Raphael growled. “No, of course. Of course they went into the sewers. Where we live.”

“Your home turf,” Chief Vincent agreed. “We were hoping you would help us locate them before they hurt anyone.”

“Locate them and then what?” Donatello asked. “What do you want us to do with them?”

Vincent shook her head, obviously overwhelmed with it all. Everyone was still trying to wrap their heads around this absolute madhouse of a crime scene.

“Dr. Falco, the man responsible for all of this, managed to survive. He's insisting we take them all alive.” She held up a black duffel bag. “In here are supposed doses of mutagen. He said this will push them through to the second phase. It will make them smaller, more manageable. In theory, it will increase their intelligence. Even, he insisted, allow them to learn how to speak. It was like he was trying to make mutants just like the four of you.”

The brothers looked at each other.

“So you want us to mutate them and bring them back to you?” Leonardo asked carefully.

Vincent handed him the bag of mutagen. “At this point, I honestly don't know. Do what you can. If you can bring them back alive, then we'll figure out what to do with them. If you can't...maybe it would be better for everyone in this city if you killed them all.”

Four Against One

Chapter One: Animal Instincts

Mona tossed and turned in bed, finding she couldn't sleep. It was unusual to have this problem down in the sewer. It was so dark and quiet at night. It was like sleeping with the weight of the whole city like a thick, warm blanket on top of her. It never took long before she was out.

But tonight, she just couldn't do it. Something about her body was keeping her active, making her muscles restless and her mind spinning. It was maddening. After a good three hours of flopping from side to side, Mona pulled herself up with a huff. It felt like she wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. Might as well get up.

It was dead silent. Dark and dormant with a few lights stationed here and there for anyone who needed to see where they were going in the otherwise pitch black lair. The idea was to wander in some of the main rooms for a bit until she got sleepy, but light from deeper in the lair caught her attention. Someone else was awake.

The light was coming from Donatello's workshop. Of course, if anyone else was awake, it would be him. He was a self-professed insomniac and liked to keep odd hours whenever he was pulled into another project.

Mona approached the open entrance way and leaned on the frame. A barely audible true crime podcast played from the phone on the table. Donatello fiddled with a piece of rusty machinery as he tried to take it apart. She watched him for a moment, enjoying the quiet zen of seeing him work. He always gave out such a calm energy. She hoped being in the wake of his aura for a while would lull her enough to go back to bed.

Yet, as he worked, she found herself more energized as she watched the muscles of his arms. The flex of his biceps as he tried to pry one stubborn piece from the other. It made her restless all over again and she could no longer hold still. Her legs moved, carrying her in further.

“Hey, Donatello,” she greeted.

He paused and looked at her curiously. “Uh, hey. Can I help you with something?”

She sat herself in the extra chair that floated around his workshop. “I can't sleep. I was hoping I could stay up with you for a while. Unless it's a bother. You can kick me out if you need to.”

He gave her a calculating look. Not the first one she had received from him in the nearly three months she had known him. It was like he was trying to learn her; figure her out.

She was trying to learn them all, too. These four mutant turtles with their mutant rat father that had been living down in the sewers undiscovered for over twenty years now. She, too, had no idea of their existence until they had saved her from a monstrous mutation that, in her opinion, was a fate worse than death.

Her current situation was better than being a hulking beast lurking in the sewers, but it still wasn't ideal. Born human, she was now mutant; still reptile in form with a broad snout, green skin, and a long tail that irritated her on nearly a daily basis.

Unable to be a part of the human world any longer, she lived in the sewers with these other mutants. Very sweet and intriguing mutants who opened their home to her when she had no place to go. She would be forever grateful for their hospitality, but this wasn't her home and these mutants weren't her family. Three months in, she still felt like a guest, like she should be moving on soon. She wished she could. She hated relying on others; taking without being able to give back. Eventually, she would take too much and they would be done with her. In the meantime, she tried not to be a bother.

“No, you can stay,” Donatello said. “I don't mind at all.”

“Thank you.” The words were weighted, as they always were. Thank you for tolerating me for another day, even though I am a stranger. Even though I am useless to all of you.

He went back to fiddling as she curled up in the chair, feet tucked beneath her. Trying to take up as little as possible in a room that wasn't hers. Trying to be invisible, soundless. She didn't want to disrupt. But only a few minutes in, she started rocking back and forth on the chair as she looked around. The rhythmic tick, tick, tick of the chair caused Donatello to look up at her.

“Sorry,” she said, when she realized what she was doing. “I'm really struggling. I don't know why I can't sleep. I feel very mmm...kinetic tonight.”

A smile pulled at the side of his mouth. She had a different vocabulary than his brothers. Her choice of words amused him at times.

But his lack of response made her nervous. She stood up. “You know what? Maybe I'll go watch TV or something. I don't think sitting here bothering you is the answer. I'm sorry to come in.”

When she moved to leave, he stood up. His height towered over her. His broad shoulders took up space. For some reason, Mona found herself hyper aware of those two things about him.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked. He seemed almost surprised himself to offer it. “I'll go with you.”

Gratitude flooded her. A feeling where a thank you didn't seem to be enough. But she said it anyway. “Thanks. I'd really like that.”

Donatello grabbed a flashlight and led the way to some of the catacombs at the back of the lair. They tended to be much dryer with less runoff. Not that there was much runoff anywhere. The summer had been usually dry this year.

Mona was getting more and more familiar with the different tunnels in the area. She even knew how to get to the surface if she needed to. But the surface scared her. She had been a few times, but she didn't like to go out too long. When she was exposed, it felt like she was showing the entire city what she had become, and she was still coming to terms with it herself.

“You're not a bother, by the way,” Donatello said suddenly, breaking her from her thoughts. “I've noticed you apologize a lot whenever you need something or you're taking up our time. None of us mind helping you.”

“Yes, all of you are amazing,” she agreed. “You guys have been so, so great. But I feel bad. I've been here a while. Even now, I'm taking up your time. Time you would have had if I wasn't here bothering you. I've always been one who's paid my own way. I wish there was at least more than I could contribute.”

“You contribute,” he insisted. “We all love that you cook for us, we appreciate when you clean. You've patched us up when we're hurt, you've stayed up with us when we're sick.”

“So I'm your mom,” said said with a hint of dissatisfaction.

Donatello frowned. He didn't like the sound of that either. “No, it's not like that. You just...the lair just feels nicer with you in it. You also give us something pretty to look at, so there's that.”

“Me?” she asked stupidly.

He smiled and gave a shrug.

Her gaze turned to watch ahead of them by the light of the flashlight. She never thought of herself as that pretty as human. Good enough to get by. Maybe even cute on her best days. But as a mutant lizard...she tried not to look at herself in the mirror for too long. She had sometimes wanted to apologize to them for having to look at her.

But that comment...was he serious? He was a reptile, too. Maybe to him, there was a different beauty standard. She herself thought all four turtle brothers were cute as hell. It had taken a while to get used to them—to wrap her head around the fact that talking giant turtles existed—but after that, it was easy to enjoy being around them. To learn their quirks and personalities, to discover how sweet they all were. To learn all the turtlely things about them and find out each one just endeared them to her more.

If Mona was really honest with herself, she'd had to admit that she was crushing on them all a little. Though she assumed it mostly came from the fact that she had hardly had any interaction with anyone else aside from the brothers and their father. That and she had never been treated as kindly as this family had treated her. She was growing to love them, but at the same time pitied them for being stuck with her growing affection for them merely because they had been kind to her.

“You've gone quiet,” Donatello spoke after a few minutes of silence. “I'm sorry if I said something bad.”

“You've never done or said anything bad since I've known you, Donatello,” came the soft response.

He paused and shined his flashlight on her. She blinked in the strong light, unable to see him other than the reflection of his glasses.

“I keep trying to read you, Mona Lisa, but I always feel like I'm missing something.”

She shrugged. “I don't know what that is. I'm just your average girl who was kidnapped and mutated against her will, faced off against a bunch of scary monsters—both human and mutant. And then found this sweet family of adorable turtles and their rat dad. And now I live here in the sewers. Tale as old as time.”

The light was still on her, as if she was being interrogated. “You don't talk much about before your mutation. Who you were; if there's anyone out there who might be missing you.”

“There isn't. There's not much to talk about. Just another poor twenty-something trying to work and keep the bills paid and the lights on. I'm afraid I'm not an interesting person.”

“I find you plenty interesting, Mona Lisa.”

Mona held a hand up to her eyes to block out the light. Trying to see his face; to see if he was being serious. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Of course.” Donatello's answer was pragmatic as he lowered the light.

In truth, she often flirted with all the brothers. And they usually flirted back. Sometimes even Leonardo—on the rare occasions she could get more than two words out of him. They were growing on her, always endearing. She liked having their attention. It made her feel special. Having Donatello's attention right now, hearing the soft, playful tone of his voice, made the core of her gently tighten. That was new.

“You're quite good at it,” she flirted back and they settled back into walking. “Very charming.”

He didn't respond, but she could feel him smiling. All four brothers would get flustered whenever she complimented them. It was cute. They were all so big, strong. They could be dangerous if they wanted to be. But they all melted with flattery and affection. Mona was happy to be the source of both of those things. It was one of the very few things she had to offer.

The tunnel narrowed and they had to walk close. Mona's shoulder brushed his arm so many times it seemed like he was seeking out the contact on purpose. Likewise, his knuckles touched the back of her hand now and then, silently asking. They liked to be touched, she had noticed. But this was distracting. She settled it by taking his hand. Three-fingered with thick, scaled skin. She didn't mind touching him. She never minded touching any of them.

When she did, something in Donatello relaxed. He was quiet, but silently pleased with this. Mona wished she could be so relaxed and pleased. She still felt like energy was running through her. Even though his thumb rubbing the back of her hand soothed her a bit. Donatello's presence was always soothing; calm.

They walked in companionable silence as their route turned them around and they headed back into the lair.

“Better?” Donatello asked as they entered the comfortable, familiar tunnels.

“Yeah,” she lied. “I think I'm going to try to sleep now. Thank you for spending some time with me.”

He still had her hand; still ran his thumb over it like he wasn't done feeling the texture of her. “My pleasure.” His voice was a soft whisper. It stirred her body in a way she wasn't prepared for. “Hug?”

Michelangelo asked for hugs the most. Donatello was a close second. She never minded as she slipped her hand out of his and then raised her arms. The very tall turtle stooped down so she could wrap her arms around his neck. He slowly straightened, carrying her off her toes. She loved when he did this. A joyful noise squeaked out of her and she gave a few happy kicks before he set her back down.

She felt a little flush after being pressed to his firm body, but tried not to focus on it.

“Good night, Donatello.”

His voice remained soft and raspy. “Have a good night.”

*************

Early the next morning, Leonardo paused when he walked into the dojo and found that it was already in use. Usually, he was the first one up and enjoyed at least an hour of quiet time before the rest of the family began to stir. But today, the light was already on. Mona Lisa sat lotus style, eyes closed and back straight. She opened her eyes as Leonardo silently entered.

She must have noticed him pause. “Sorry, am I going to be interrupting your personal time?”

She was. Leonardo liked having his quiet mornings alone. But that morning, he didn't particularly mind her company. She was usually a quiet person and he appreciated that about her.

“You're fine. Do you mind me joining you?” he asked as he sat himself in a similar position.

“Please do. I'm not having much luck on my own.”

Leonardo didn't say anything. He had learned merely by waiting, he could always get more information out of her.

“I couldn't sleep last night. I'm feeling a little frayed. Like there's this energy in my body that won't stop churning. I thought maybe some meditation would help, but I don't know what I'm doing. Am I supposed to be thinking about something? Or am I supposed to empty my head and think about nothing?”

A slight smile pulled at the side of his mouth. “I guess it depends on what your goals are: to quiet the mind, or to contemplate something that's been on your mind.”

She furrowed her brows in consternation and he found it to be quite cute. “What do you think about when you meditate? Or is that too personal to ask?”

“I try to think about my goals. How I want my day to go. How I can be a better brother and a better leader to my team. How I can improve on my skills and myself. Admittedly, my brain likes to wander to my mistakes and dwell on them. I try to spin it to the positive. Learn from them. Do better the next time.”

“Damn,” was Mona's response. “That's a good answer. I'll try some of that.”

Leonardo smiled a little more. There was something about her that was gentle, but amusing. He enjoyed her energy. As he settled into his own meditation, he was reminded of that as she remained a quiet and calm presence beside him. But she was still a presence. Normally, he could tune out his sensei and even any of his brothers if they were meditating beside him.

But her. Something kept calling him to her. Meditation for him was like sitting in a comfortable darkness. With Mona, she was like a soft glow next to him. Not loud or distracting, but definitely there. He opened an eye to look at her. She wasn't moving or making any sound. She looked relaxed; she wasn't even breathing loud. So why did his head keep turning in her direction? Was it her smell? He could definitely smell her. She smelled very nice. She smelled...attractive? Was that the word he was looking for?

He didn't say anything and let her be. For Leonardo, that morning's meditation was spent trying to keep his focus. He did not have much success. Still, it felt like it wasn't too long before Splinter came in for his own morning meditation. And after twenty or so minutes, the other turtle brothers trundled in.

“Ooh, look who's up,” Michelangelo greeted. He crouched behind Mona and gave her a light one-armed hug around the neck. “Morning, Mo-Mo. Ooh, you smell really good today.”

“Hey, Mike,” she greeted back, still not moving.

“What are you doing up so early?”

“Having quality time with Leonardo.”

Leonardo glanced at her. She had one eye open in his direction, smiling as if she just told a joke. “Jealous,” Michelangelo replied and moved to find his own space on the floor where he began doing stretches. “When do I get my quality time?”

“With Leonardo? You'll have to ask him.”

“I wasn't talking about Leo. You know what I meant.”

Mona just grinned.

Raphael came in next and he too paused at the extra person before sitting in front of her and beginning his own stretches in preparation for training.

“Hey there, Big Eyes. You come to train with us this morning?”

She snorted. “Probably not. Not interested in getting my ass kicked today.”

“Nah. I'd go easy on ya. You using a new shampoo or something? You smell good.”

“Right?” Michelangelo piped up. “She smells super good this morning.”

Mona subtly sniffed her shoulder, then her hair. Then down the front of her shirt. “I'm not sure what that is. I don't smell anything.”

“Did you go to sleep at all?” Donatello's voice asked as he walked behind her.

“Not really,” she said guiltily. “Just wasn't my night.”

He crouched behind her and touched the side of her neck with the back of his fingers. “You're a little warm. Do you feel okay?”

“About the same as last night. Like I need to be awake for something. I just don't know what that something is. I think I'll make myself stay up all day and then hopefully I'll crash good tonight.”

Donatello paused and then overtly breathed her in.

“She smells good, huh?” Michelangelo grinned from where he stretched in a complicated pose.

“That's not how you usually smell,” Donatello mused. “Interesting.”

“What do I smell like? I don't smell anything.”

No response. Mona specifically looked to Leonardo, as if they were all keeping a secret from her and she knew he would be the one to speak the truth. But the blue-clad turtle shrugged. She did smell different, but he didn't know how to put it into words.

“Alright, time for training,” Splinter announced as he finished with his meditation and stood. With a sharp clap, the turtles immediately stopped their chatter and stood in a straight row before their sensei.

Mona stood as well to get out of their way.

“Can I stay and watch?”

Splinter eyed her while at least half of his sons were openly nodding. Before, she had always been politely told the dojo wasn't a safe place to be during training and the reasons were obvious. Very large mutants with very dangerous weapons would be whipping around at high speeds. Mona had no training to keep herself safe. But she couldn't learn if she wasn't allowed.

“Yes, you may,” Splinter agreed. “But you will adhere to every rule.”

She straightened. “Yes, sir.”

“You will sit where I put you. You will not move while there is any activity on the mats. You will pay attention to what is happening. If you break these rules, you will be asked to leave. This is completely for your safety.”

She nodded emphatically. “I can do that.”

“Very well.”

Splinter offered her a pillow to kneel upon close to the wall. Far away from any fighting. He stayed with her while the turtles warmed up. They pulled out their weapons and began performing complicated katas. To Splinter, it was obvious they were showing off for their audience of one. He let them. When they were sufficiently warmed up he called for them to stop and they obeyed.

“Weapons, here,” he pointed to a spot next to him and the brothers complied, setting their weapons down. “From the wall.” Splinter nodded to the collection of weapons adorning what was aptly named The Weapons Wall. “Donatello: daisho. Leonardo: tonfa. Michelangelo: kama. Raphael: naginata.”

Without their weapons of choice, it was obvious to the master that his students weren't as comfortable. But but they were also ninja and should be able to make a weapon out of anything. He allowed a few moments for the turtles to get used to the weight and swing of their new weapons. Raphael was enjoying the reach of his long, bladed staff and kept poking Michelangelo in the shell with it. The smaller turtle parried back with his kama; two short handles with curved blades. Like miniature scythes. Leonardo spun his double tonfa expertly, but it was clear he didn't like that they were more a defensive weapon and had barely any reach. Donatello looked the least comfortable with his allotment as he handled the sword set and awkwardly strapped them to his body in a way he could reach both swords. The shorter sword stayed in its sheath in the front while he swung the long sword around in a way that told he was used to handling a staff.

“Pair up,” Splinter then ordered. “Raphael and Donatello. Leonardo and Michelangelo.”

The designated pairs faced each other. When their sensei gave the order, the fighting began. It started a little slow at first with each brother getting into the feel of their weapon. Usually they were a lot more devil-may-care when playing with weapons. But they were aware of their audience and didn't want to look clumsy.

But Splinter didn't care who was watching. He was there to make sure his students were always on their toes. Once the sparing fell into a more comfortable rhythm, Splinter left his post at Mona's side. He noticed her posture was rigid, back straight. Her thick, heavy tail thumped on the mat. There was an energy from her that made him almost want to raise his hackles. Strange, but he was more focused on his sons. Though he felt almost a relief at moving away from the lizard mutant.

The turtles were a whirl of movement and blades. A dangerous place to be of anyone untrained. Splinter, however, walked among the battles effortlessly untouched as he dodged bodies at least twice his size. Every once in a while, he would hit one of them with the blade of his hand. Sometimes the attacks were dodged or blocked. Most of them hit their mark.

“Be aware of everything around you,” Splinter barked. “Not just your opponent.”

And yet, he too was only focused on his sons. Though something niggled at the back of his mind. Mona Lisa was at the periphery of his senses. Her tail still slapped against the solid floor. It swished back and forth in agitation. These were not normal behaviors for her. Somewhere in the primitive part in Splinter's rat brain and voice whispered Predator.

He glanced back at her and the primitive part of his instincts took over for just a second. A second was all it took. Splinter jerked into Donatello, who glanced back in time to nearly get sliced from Raphael. Leonardo became distracted by Donatello's stumbling as Michelangelo surged forward. And everything fell apart as turtles and rat all collapsed gracelessly on top of each other.

For a second, everything was silent, save for the swishing sound of an anxious tail.

“What happened?” Raphael demanded.

“Dudes, she's doing the predator eyes again,” Michelangelo hissed.

All eyes turned to Mona Lisa, who had obediently remained where she was. Her posture still stiff, tail swishing like an interested cat. Her normally human-like brown eyes had changed. The whites turned yellow, the pupils now long, reptilian slits.

Leonardo stood up, fists gripping his weapon as if to protect himself. They had seen her do this before, shortly after she had first changed. “Mona,” he said carefully.

She looked up at him. “Hm? You guys okay?”

There was a visible sense of relaxing from the group of prey animals.

“We're okay. Are you...okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be okay?”

Donatello took a few steps forward, but still kept his distance. “Your eyes...”

She blinked at him several times, then stood. Swiftly, she removed herself from the dojo.

************

Mona ran to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were slowly going back to normal, but the evidence of what they had looked like was there.

“No...no, no, no,” she whispered. “Why is this happening again?”

She saw Donatello appear in the reflection behind her. “Let me see,” he said softly.

She turned with a sigh. She didn't want to. She didn't want him to stare right into her soul with those intense golden eyes of his. Always calculating, always taking in so much of her with every look. His hand held her chin as he studied her. He didn't need to touch her to look at her eyes, but he always touched. And she wanted to lean into it.

“They're pretty normal now. Do you know what happened? Were you feeling scared or threatened in the dojo?” he then asked as he pulled back.

“No, I was just watching you guys.”

“You looked kind of intense, babe,” Michelangelo said from the doorway. The others were lurking in the hall. “What were you thinking about?”

A flush warmed her face. She had been watching alright. Watching the display of speed and strength. Watching how their muscles moved, how their bodies glistened with sweat. The silhouette of them, the masculine energy they brought with them. It excited her, though she hadn't felt any changes in her body.

“I don't remember thinking about much, I was just watching.”

She must have still looked a little wide-eyed because Donatello put his hands on her shoulders and spoke in a calm voice. “Let's take a blood sample just to be sure.”

Now all that was on Mona's mind was worry. The mutation had been rough, traumatic. It had left her a different person, both physically and mentally. Even after the second mutation, she still dealt with some changes. Ones she thought she had mastered, but if she was changing again...

She was hardly paying attention as Donatello stuck a needle in her arm. So far, there had been no possible way to change her back to her original human form. But if she was regressing back to what she was before...it was her nightmare.

“I don't see any further mutation,” Donatello announced as he looked at her blood through a microscope. “It's still the same as it was. The cells aren't changing.”

Mona let out a sigh of relief. She felt Michelangelo give her shoulder a soft squeeze. She hadn't even noticed his hand was there until then.

Paper from the oldest printer Mona had ever seen was spat out and Donatello looked at the readings. “Here we go. Your hormone levels have shifted. That's why you've been feeling off. Estrogen and pheromone levels are up. Which means you're uh...entering a mating cycle.”

Mona blinked at him, trying to make sense of the words. “A what?”

“You're in estrus. Or in layman's terms, you're in heat.”

She snorted. “Fuck off, Donatello. Humans don't go into heat.”

He snorted back, unused to being told to fuck off. Especially by a woman. “You're not all human. Not anymore. Some of the animal tendencies from your reptile DNA may take over from time to time. It's already happened before with you.”

“Yeah, but I have a human brain. So is it even a thing?”

“It's a thing. And it kinda sucks when it happens.” Raphael said with arms folded across his chest. This gesture wasn't aggressive. It was more of a self-soothing motion. Like he didn't enjoy the topic of discussion.

Mona looked even more confused. “It happens to you guys, too?”

Hesitant and disgruntled murmurs from all four turtles.

She suddenly looked unsure. “Is it happening right now?”

“Nah. Ours comes in the spring. This late summer shit is new to me.”

Donatello was typing on the computer. “It says on this article that Komodo dragons—your main source of reptile DNA—mate during the dry season, which is usually late summer. Uh, we have had a pretty dry summer lately.”

“Fuck me,” she groaned.

“Is that an invitation?” Michelangelo asked cheekily.

Mona shot out of her chair and quickly moved out of their reach. “No, that was not! Do not...” She gestured in warning at them. “Just...DO NOT.”

“We're not going to do anything to you,” Leonardo said calmly. “You're safe here. I promise you.”

None of the turtles made a move toward her, which she appreciated. Her mind was racing as she tried to get a handle on the situation. Suddenly, it all made sense. Her restlessness. The way she had been hyper aware of everything the turtles did lately. How her gaze would zero in on their strong necks when they swallowed, on their mouths when they licked their lips. How she kept staring at their bodies; the defined arms, the shape of their torsos. The delicious way their thick thighs filled out their pants.

“Now I see why you got excited,” Donatello continued as he looked at his computer screen. “In the wild, male Komodo dragons will fight each other to win females. Watching us spar made you—”

“It sure as hell did not!” she shot back, cutting him off. Her voice had gone higher than normal. “That is not what is happening here! Oh my God. I—I have to go.”

She immediately left with Raphael calling after her. “Where you gonna go? The lair's the only place you've got.”

Leonardo was the first to follow after her, mostly just to make sure she wasn't going to do anything drastic. As it turned out, Mona only went to her room and firmly shut the door behind her. She was quiet for the first few moments as the turtles gathered outside.

“Mo-Mo, baby, it's okay,” Michelangelo called to her door. “It's not that big of a deal. We've been dealing with it for years and we always get through it.”

Her door opened and she was suddenly in his face. “Really?” she asked, looking desperately hopeful.

God she smelled good. Intoxicatingly good. He tried to ignore it, even as his body warmed. “Yeah, you'll be okay. I mean, you're going to be cranky and so horny you'll want to bang anything with a pulse, and sometimes things without, but you'll get through it. It only lasts like two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Her pitch rose another octave. “That's longer than a period! What the hell?”

“Well, that's our cycle,” Donatello said. “Komodo dragons seem to have a really long mating season. Yours might be longer.”

Leonardo elbowed him to shut up.

“I'm just saying,” the tallest brother insisted. “It's good to have all the facts.”

“Another fact is, Mona, that we're here for you,” Raphael said, trying to smooth the conversation over. “We'll help you through it. Whatever you need.”

He hadn't meant it in a sexual way, but Mona's eyes suddenly went wide and he realized his poor word choices.

“Oh my God, no!” she cried and promptly slammed the door in their faces.

“She's going to be okay, right?” Michelangelo wondered.

A moment later, the turtles could hear the unique sound of her angrily screaming into a pillow.

*****

Tag List: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @androidships007 @snackugaki @red-phoenixxx @leosgirl82 @dilucsflame33 @happymoonangel @fluffytriceratops

[irkimatsu]

Some short of vent? Idk, just wanted to share. I constantly get anxious and genuinely sad when thinking about husk and angel. I’m nowhere near close to Angel’s beauty and I’m quite boring, but fuck how much I love husk. If he existed, would I ever be enough for him? Why do I cry over fictional characters? I’m not sure. I just- wish someone could tell me that he would love me. I wanted to share this bc I think that you feel the same, due to your masterlist post saying that you will take angel and husk’s dynamic would be only friends, so I felt close to you and willing to tell you. Thank you for hearing me out

Oh, you have absolutely come to the right blog, anon; I've been worrying about this since January, have even posted about it before. If Angel is Husk's type, then how could I possibly be? I'm not beautiful, not outgoing, not confident, not accomplished, I'm not him I'm not him... I've considered plenty of times before, writing fic where Reader compares themselves unfavorably to Angel, but I'm terrified of it coming off as character or ship bashing. I love Angel! I'm sure canon will get me to warm up to Huskerdust eventually! ...but for now... I want Husk to myself...

I want to believe that Husk would want quiet nights in, just talking and enjoying each others' company... that he'd be okay with someone who's a little broken and not nearly as good at hiding it as Angel, who needs regular assurance... I'd give him that assurance in return! I love him as a person, I want to know more about him! I don't care what his status might have once been, I care about him! I love his voice, I love his love for music and travel, I love how now matter how hard he tries to hide it he so deeply cares... I love him. Could that possibly be enough...?

I don't want to make Angel jealous; I always write him as a graceful loser. He had a crush on Husk, but it didn't get too far before he noticed Husk getting attached to Reader, so you know what, new plan, even if Angel can't have him to himself he can still make sure his new friend gets laid. I don't want a rivalry, I don't want to fight over him...

Hell, sometimes a poly arrangement with Husk as the hinge can work, but other times... I want to know Husk can be happy with me, just me. If I had to share with Angel, it would take so much for me to believe that I'm not just a backup choice... if he had to choose just one of us, who would he pick? That question would destroy me for the entirety of the relationship...

You're not alone, anon. I know he's fictional. I know nothing I do will stop whatever canon has planned for his love life, and quite honestly I wouldn't want to stop it. I know he's not mine, not really. But sometimes, it's nice to think about being enough for someone, you know?

I don't know enough about you to say anything too specific, but I do think it's possible for Husk to choose you or me over Angel. It doesn't have to be anything against Angel - just factors of timing and chemistry. Angel will of course stick around as a supportive friend, Husk still cares about him that way, and he'll wear a kickass dress as part of the inevitable wedding party. It'll be fine. We're not completely out of our minds to think we could have Husk to ourselves, if only for a little while...

[joannasteez]

tanks of blood - the hierarchy

PRESIDENT

serves as first command and representative of the club

VICE PRESIDENT

serves as second in command and assumes the position of the president when said president is absent.

SERGEANT AT ARMS

serves as the protector and enforcer of the by-laws as well as the safety of all members

ROAD CAPTAIN

serves as ranking officer when the president and vice president are absent. facilitates and ensures the safety of the club on the road and organizes the formation of members while riding.

SECRETARY

ensures and maintains all club related reports and records, assumes role of the treasurer in their absence.

TREASUER

ensures and maintains all financial related reports and records and assumes the role of secretary in their absence.

TAIL GUNNER

rides at the tail end of the riding formation by facilitating and ensuring the safety of the club alongside the road captain.

[silvery-bluish]

24 and 25 for arsinoe!!

Questions from here!

Thank you for the ask <3 dropping this under the break

24. What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

Before they got Emotionally Mugged by Danny, I was actually planning on running them Chentegastep poly V, with Ric being the pivot/hinge. It probably would’ve been a Lot Chiller than their current romantic situation’s Extremely Shakey Foundations lol. They spend most of Retri hanging out with Chen anyway still.

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

I’m actually really attached to their tunnel vision empathy. It gets— messy, but messy in ways I find Interesting to rotate, y’know? The people they care about they’d go to extreme lengths to protect, and they have the potential of being So Damned Soft with them, but strangers? Or just casual acquaintances? People they’ve already dismissed as unimportant? They’ve got blinders on and are not taking them into account because that frees up bandwidth for the people that DO matter.

(Eventually they’ll figure out how to get enough out of crisis mode to ease back on this, maybe, but they’re still stuck on ‘Daniel is an outlier adn should not be counted’ right now)

[inkykeiji]

clari!! hi!! i was wondering, would bmb have taken a different path if tomura didn’t go through an episode? i wonder abt how different reader and dabi’s dynamic would be if that were the case! would they still be romantically involved? would the three of them engage in a relationship eventually?

hi hi!! c:

ah, yes! it would’ve totally taken a different path, because literally so much of the story & plot itself hinges on tomura’s building breakdown—as it continues to build, it also continues to move the narrative forward, and affords dabi and reader both more chances to be together and alone, but also brings them closer together in an emotional way, since someone they mutually care about is going through such a rough time and they’re unsure how to handle it (so tangled!). additionally, while the first threats tomura receives are real in the sense that they actually happened and actually exist, the threats that follow are all hallucinations in his head. if he wasn’t sick, then those hallucinations wouldn’t have happened, and dabi would’ve probably been taken off of his glorified babysitting post (or had his duties significantly reduced much earlier in the story), which in turn would have impacted the speed at which dabi + reader’s relationship intensifies and evolves since they wouldn’t be spending nearly as much time together.

without tomura’s hallucinations and overestimation of the threat, there isn’t much of a reason for dabi and reader to be spending much time together. in this case, tomura would’ve mostly let the threats go when their line of investigation ends up leading to nowhere—he is still protective of his baby and he gets paranoid easily, so dabi would still have some babysitting/bodyguard duties, but nowhere near anything within the fic itself, so again, dabi and readers relationship would evolve and grow at a much slower pace.

however!!! with that being said + under these hypothetical circumstances, it is very possible that the police would’ve sent more ‘threats’ had tomura not exacerbated the situation entirely on his own accord, in which case then dabi + reader would’ve spent just as much time together as tomura worked tirelessly at figuring out what the hell was going on, just without the added stress and pressure of his illness. in this case, their dynamic would’ve stayed largely unchanged and they most likely would’ve all ended up in a poly relationship at the end—dabi might’ve even been recruited to help tomura fully figure this out instead of ill tomura trying to do it all on his own because he trusts no one and is extremely paranoid, thus making him incredibly overprotective (even more so than usual) of his baby and requiring dabi be within arms reach of her at all times, even including when they’re locked away in the safety of the penthouse. if this had happened and tomura hadn’t been so sick and instead was willing to recruit dabi to help him work through it all (at least any time reader was at home and safe in the penthouse), then dabi and tomura’s relationship would’ve blossomed and bloomed as well, and they would’ve fostered a closeness that was different, deeper, and more substantial than the type of closeness they had fostered in their younger adult years, before reader had entered the picture.

there are many things that i need to edit, flesh out, add, fix, and revise within the story before i’m ready to novelize and publish it, so it’s entirely possible that you may see some of these elements within the novel version when it is finally released (*/ω＼*)

thank you for your question anon bb!! <33

[hirokiyuu]

12 OR 20 Nem/Sym (Nem/Sym/+Sol?) Sorry this ask is a bit of a mess but those two numbers have very similar Nem (mortified) potential, just kinda different in somftness. Also idk if you wanna go full ot3 but it might need a third person around? And I think Sol would have A Time With It.

12. things you said when you thought I was asleep + 20. things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear

"But she is quite lovely."

"Yeah," says Sol, voice fond as their hand continues to stroke over the top of Anemone's head; against all odds Nem doesn't freeze up. "I think so too."

"Mm." There's a touch on her ankle, light as a feather, one single warm fingertip against her skin. "I do hope...."

A pause. Sol's fingers card through Nem's hair; somehow, somehow, Anemone keeps her breathing steady. "I do hope one day, we might close the gap between us," says Sym, softly. "I don't enjoy making her uneasy in her own home. But...."

"It's up to her," says Sol.

"Yes."

The finger against her ankle lifts. Despite everything, the space where it lingered feels cold in its absence.

[polyghostfacehours]

listen man whenever you have the time you GOTTA write some ghostface!randy like i wanna go into that dynamic so so sooo bad (also what if like….. poly!ghostface x reader but this time ghostface!randy is a thing) (or just the three of them) (idk smth ab ghostface!randy got my mind reelin)

AAAAAAHHHHH HEEEEELLLLL YEAH.

So firstly, some of these things will be out of character since Randy would have to be a significantly less sweet and reasonable person to become a GF. So here, have some of my take on a Ghostface!Randy HCs lmao!

Ghostface!Randy Headcanons

So Randy's has 2 main reason for becoming a Ghostface.

The first is retaliation against society. He's tired of just being the film geek that no one takes seriously and is pushed around and picked on.

The second is to get to live a horror movie. The virgin usually lives in the end, but how would it go if the virgin takes revenge on his sex having friends who bully him constantly?

He'd have some incel-y vibes tbh. He feels a bit entitled to sex, but in is angry at the world im the sense that he feels like an outcast that's always left out of the loop and looked down on for being awkward and nerdy.

Billy would see this in Randy. The darkness swirling in his head every time he and Stu dog on each other. So he begins to bring it out of Randy.

Unlike Stu, who he views as his best friend, Randy will absolutely be nothing more than a tool to Billy. He'd pretend to understand him, but rest assured if worst came to worst he'd pin everything on Randy if need be.

Stu gets competitive with Randy, both for Billy's attention and as a Ghostface. He'd want to show up Randy at all times and then tease him about it Randy.

It's one heeeellllaa toxic friendship, where Billy and Stu clearly have the advantage in the relationship. An imbalanced power dynamic for daaays.

I could see Randy actually being the least off-kilter and most in touch with his empathy of the three. Therefore, I could see him being remorseful and even trying to get out of it, with little success.

If you go with the HC that Stu was peer-pressured, then hooo boy is Randy even MORE so. Because whereas Stu was still an active participant in planning and ideas, Randy literally had no say in what they'd do.

Randy might eventually plan Billy and Stu's death if it becomes too much for him and he needs to get out of it. Like using his horror movie knowledge that he knows they're following to twist the metaphorical (and physical) knife in their backs.

Randy during a kill is very frantic. He's liable to get jittery and make mistakes, but will get kicked into overdrive if he fears the victim might get away. Like he might accidentally go buck wild and dissociate. One moment the victim is alive and running out the door and the next moment they're on the floor with 30 stab wounds in their torso.

He gets very shaken after a kill and unlike Billy and Stu who may get aroused from the adrenaline rush, Randy might actually have a panic attack once he's alone.

He's originally on phone duty, until Billy forbid him from it once he got too long winded and argued too much with the victim. He's supposed to be scaring them and moving them around the house, not talking about the inherent homoeroticism in Nightmare on Elm Street 2

If a poly relationship between you 4 happened, it would be a either 2 triads or a mix of a triad and a hinge. You, Billy, and Stu would be a triad, and you, Stu, and Randy would be another Triad. Billy and Randy just aren't into each other like that, so they wouldn't be in a relationship with one another. Another possibility is you, Stu, and Billy as a triad and then you as a hinge for Randy; this would be the case if Randy and Stu don't grow closer during their Ghostface escapades.

Jealousy would be a huge issue for Billy either way, as he wouldn't be fond of Randy taking one or both of his S/O's time away from him. Ditto for Randy, as I don't see him and Billy being able to cultivate any sort of meaningful relationship or understanding. I don't see this poly relationship lasting long with Randy in the picture tbh. It's just not a healthy dynamic.

[restlessreveries]

So like, funny little thing/interaction about the Nem/Sol/Sym hinge poly > ot3 (with Nem fof course being in denial about her attraction to a certain xeno) that’s been living in my head for a while and idk it needs some space to free roam for a bit.

I think the funniest possible interaction that can come out of this particular ship setup (and similar ones) it just like, the trio in the kitchen in the morning one day, probably the day after Sym has done something monumentally stupid and gotten himself hurt in some way that pretty much had him discard the old body and just make a new one ‘cause might as well at that point.

Sym is just kinda busy making breakfast because him taking well to cooking is a canon fact that I hold close to my heart and will never let go of. But he’s also kinda, acting just a bit different? More carefully, pulls away from the hot water or the pancake pan or whatever just a bit more dramatically than usual.

Eventually Nem just leans over to Sol and whispers like “What’s up with him? He’s acting more odd than usual.”

And Sol just like. Stares. At her. For several long seconds as they realize the Power that they now hold. Because Nem doesn’t know about the new body = heightened senses thing that Sym has going on and now Sol has to decide if they’re gonna go “I’ll tell you when you’re older” and leave her like ??? or explain the situation.

Meanwhile Nem is just sitting there very much ??? as there’s this really weird grin on Sol’s face and eventually they give in and do explain it to her, and then just kinda sit back with a metaphorical bucket of popcorn as they Watch and commit to memory every second of these facts, implications and applications sinking in and processing.

So in the end you have Sol grinning and just looking like the personification of smugness incarnate, Nem kinda frozen and looking like she wants to sink through the floor while her still-in-denial brain slowly self-destructs and Sym just being utterly clueless as to what he missed.

[actualbird]

AFAHSJSSK ITS OK!! I just wanted to make sure it didn't get lost in transit or smth b/c ik tumblr is an abyss sometimes and likes to devour things AFAGAJS. 😂

I actually totally forgot that I asked about nxx polycule meeting mc's parents, so whenever u have the time, I'd love to hear more about that from u...and whatever my original question was for it 😅

IVE READ THE WHOLE SHIP TAG FOR DARIUS/ARTEM TOO! it is *sob* so small, but very very good! There was also a single marius/artem/darius fic in there that I Think about A Lot. It's a very delicious sandwich of age and height difference and a lot of other things haha

YES YES YES! I love how in darius/artem, darius is the older one b/c with the other nxx members, artem is the oldest, so it's an interesting dynamic. Their dynamic in general is SO GOOD I love the few moments we see them interact in the game. (also also insert horny thought here about darius' stubble and artems thighs 🙈)

Oooo looking forward to outsider pov darius fic on the nxx team whenever u get to it 👀 we just need more darius content in this fandom in general in whatever capacity that may be. (Also I hate that my 1st thought when u said that darius looks tired was "yeah I'm sure he definitely has a reason he looks tired all the time *winky face*" AFAHSJSJ- (darius has a secret lover, mayhaps?))

For my marluke question: yes, they're so funny!! I love the way u write them, their banter is always my favorite part of ur fics. Oooo I really like ur point about them being two stubborn people that push each other. It's always interesting to have a dynamic where the characters push each other in productive ways and where they are able to inspire each other to new heights, but they do so in very supportive ways where there's this equal give and take between them, and you see how they grow both together and individually. I love it!

I've been doing well too! just really busy, but I enjoy reading ur blog posts and catching up on ur tot thoughts and analyses whenever I get a break!

- 🐍

eyyo, snake!!! ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

irt asks MIA: oh man, felt. ive been using this website for a Very Long Time and am well aware of it's voracious hunger for certain asks kjgksg.

irt nxx polycule meets mc's parents: YEEEE, I'LL DEFFO get back on the topic. eventually. someday. who knows? certainly not me. i want to but i have a veritable PILE of ideas and topics im working on omg.

irt that sandwich: oh my ggOOOSSH I READ THAT MARIUS/ARTEM/DARIUS FIC. it was very good i loved it because 1) hoo boy, artem as the so called hinge in that poly relationship is incredibly fascinating and 2) ARTEM GOT DP'D?? TWO DICKS??? IN HIM??? AT THE SAME TIME???? everyday we are blessed.

(sidenote: another reason why i havent written darius yet is because his name rhymes with marius KJBKJKGSD. if ever i write him, i think i'll ONLY call him by his last name, morgan. tot eng localization team, why did u do this? ur making shipping harder...)

irt darius and artem dynamic: their canon interactions are GREAAAT. one i remember very clearly is main story 5.1 (or .2 or .3, not sure) where darius was like "hear that, wing? he wants to sue you. who would you get as your defense attorney, if that happened? that partner of yours---" and then artem is like "Stop." which is SO FUNNY and indicative of the fact that darius is comfy enough to playfully jab at artem like this and that artem seems to be used to it HAHA.

irt horny: ah. your horny thoughts and my horny thoughts shake hands. obsessed, im OBSESSED with artem shivering at the feeling of darius languidly dragging his stubble face across places where artem is most sensitive.

thighs is very good, yes. but im also thinking that if darius wants to be a rascal, he could just give artem a nuzzle on the neck at the station and artem is like "ALRIGHT. WE'RE LEAVING." because he gets so worked up just from that. i mean, how could he not? every time he feels that sensation, it's always followed by....much more intimate sensations. darius morgan has pavlovian conditioned artem wing to get horny at stubble feel. BLESS UP!!!!

irt why darius looks like he isnt getting any sleep at all: JSBGDJKSGKSD!!! HES TIRED BECAUSE HES FUCKIN ALL NIGHT!!!! i second the motion because it's hot and also hilarious

irt my wonderful baby boys: hhhh im glad u like how i write marluke!!! im on a mission to just flood the marluke ao3 tag, i live here now (but will occasionally make grocery trips to write for other ship or no ship tags) but i do get worried like oH NO AM I WRITING A FLAVOR OF MARLUKE THAT LIKE....SUCKS??? so ur words mean a lot :'). and YEA. characters who push other characters and also the story are just so much fun to work with.

oftentimes when im writing marluke, all i have to do is put them in the premise. and like....the characterization i have for them, they make all the choices from there on out. i, as a person, dont have to make the decisions, if that makes sense? theyre doing it for me.

truly, writing for me just feels like me running around and filming a documentary of little guys in my brain.

glad youre doing okay!! and i hope you have a nice day :DDD