#i am still a little scared of them TuT

[naomiknight-17]

A wild thing happened today

I was out with friends and their 6-month-old baby, and we drove to a park to go for a walk. As we were getting ready to leave the car my friend is suddenly like "Oh my god there's a bee in the car right near the baby!"

And I'm like, oh, I'm not afraid of bees. I'll deal with this

So I get out and open the door next to the baby's car seat, and my friend points out the insect in question.

That is not a bee. That is a wasp.

But, you know, in for a penny, in for a pound

So I put my hand in front of where the wasp is crawling and, without thinking, I start talking to it like

"C'mere buddy, climb up on my finger, I'm not gonna hurt you"

And it fucking DID

It CLIMBED ONTO MY FINGER

I slowly backed away from the car and the wasp flew off outside harmlessly and as it did I got the hugest adrenaline rush because

I AM FUCKING ALLERGIC TO WASPS WHAT THE FUCK WAS I DOING

[running-with-kn1ves]

Need you to write more WLW 😫😫😫😫

It’s the only thing keeping me sane!!!!!

A/N: I wrote this based on a random ass scene I saw in The Boys and now...here lies this creation. (Female fitness trainer is nearing completion)

CW: blackmail, manipulation, toxic relationship type beat, controlling behavior, threats, cigarettes

Synopsis: you attempt to break up with your girlfriend-- she's too much. But she was going to keep you, one way or another.

You knew the rough crowd around town was... intense. But this chick was on another level. Kali liked to scare you; with how little you knew about her friends, leering on their motorcycles as she watched from behind a cigarette, your mind swam with scenarios of being abandoned on bloody asphalt behind a dumpster.

The music she blares in her shitty, one-eyed car and the smoke trail she left in bathrooms-- she liked being revered as nothing but trouble. You were doing your best to stay away from any kind of danger, focused on fixing the pieces of your tarnished education as your grades had not been kind to you. But Kali got to you first, ripping away any thoughts of work and reparations to your tuition debt.

So, despite the foggy kisses, lipstick stains on your jaw, and unexpected clinginess she showed to the idea of moving you in with her, you're making an attempt to break up with her.

"You... want to ditch me?"

"What? No! I'm just, I'm extremely worried about this next semester." You put a hand on her square-cut, polished fingers. "If I fail even one class again, my scholarships will drop me. I'm already on probation with the university."

You hope she can see how worried you are in your eyes, squeezing her hand to ease the news. She was going rigid, stiff as a tree with the strength of a waiting titan.

"School, huh."

Kali watched you beneath wispy bangs, looking straight through you. As if you weren't there, heart-pounding and palm-sweating in front of her.

You were glad she balled her hands in fists before you grabbed them, having one too many instances of your fingers crushed in her grip.

"B-but... we can still see each other.. maybe, sometimes on the weekends. I just can't afford any distractions, I've already spent a fortune getting to where I am."

"Is this because I want you to move in with me?" She blurted, straight faced and tight lipped.

Dark, midnight eyes bore into you for the truth.

Her ears perked at the sound of your jaggy sigh, knowing this would come up. "... No, but I have to say that it is still pretty early in, well, "us", to be considering... that."

"Really?" She asked earnestly, cold fingers finding their way around your forearm. "Because I still feel pretty confident about the idea, baby."

You hated how she could call you "baby" so easily, how every "sweetheart" was patronizing or forceful, or could be the most saccharine thing you heard when you first woke up.

her boot tips pressed against the side of your shoes, trapping you in like a snake wrapped around a rat. One hand held yours in a death grip, the other raking shivery nails against your knee from under the coffee table.

"I've got a perfect place for your stuff, work's only ten minutes away; why would there be any little reason to stay at your dusty old apartment?"

"I, I don't think you're hearing me--"

"No, no baby, I think you forgot who's choice this was to make." Your skin was a deep color under her fingers, her strength far outmatched as your clammy, fragile hand was brought to her cheek. She tutted under her breath, tsk'ing in condescention. "What would you do without me? How are you going to survive alone, no car to get to your classes, or the grocery store, unprotected around your peers... I can't imagine it, especially since your landlord never got his money to re-lease your apartment next month..."

From under the table her swift fingers brought a bulging envelope to the table, previously stuffed in your landlord's mailbox.

It wasn't even opened, the cash and tenant forms sealed without a mark.

Your jaw went slack, coffee cup cold in your hands.

"How did you--"

"Try it again, and I'll find it. You'll keep losing money, keep draining chances to come to me lovingly."

Kali sweetly tiptoed her black nails up to your shirt collar, sending shivers down your neck with each gentle, uncharacteristically slow touch.

Without warning, the woman snatched your shirt in her fist and jerked you forward, pulling you tightly against the coffee table. The seething anger she bore hardly made a sound, leaving the fellow cafe attendants nearby unbothered.

Your wince left her apathetic, bear-like eyes relishing in how unnerved and frantic you were becoming.

"I so rarely give out second chances. You, my love, are very lucky to be the exception. Don't make me regret it," your girlfriend was only inches apart, painted lips plump and teasing only breaths away. "I don't like to play dirty, but I will if you run from me. Is that clear, baby?"

You swallowed thickly, letting your gaze run away from hers as she bore into you with intense malice.

"Say yes," She whispered, on edge of twisting your wrist. "So I don't have to show everyone in here who you belong to."

Your cheeks lit up, terrified of the baristas and groups of students who'd look your way if she carried out that threat. Kali was unpredictable, something you found so endearing when you first met. She was always moving, doing something you couldn't expect. Now, it was scaring you.

You nod your head, regretting the idea of trying to break up with her in public. She wasn't afraid to make a scene, unlike you.

"Of course, Kals. There won't... be any need for that."

You hoped the sweetly familiar nickname with a hint of an anxious smile would make you sound casual, as if you weren't sweating behind your jacket and avoiding her blinkless stare like the plague.

"That's right." She whispered, letting go of your collar to pull at your jaw, this time only with the intent of dragging you closer. She was always so rough with her grip, capable or causing pain with its force, or merely leaving you breathless.

The punk's hand from beneath the table took mercy on your thigh with its painful rakes, moving instead to your cheek. Cold rings nicked your skin, her knuckles brushing against your face in a gentle, longing caress. You were hunched over the table now, uncomfortably risen as she sat like a queen in her cushioned chair, your face in her hands and your breath stolen by her.

Her pierced tongue came to graze the inside of your mouth, all-consuming and grinning through her teeth.

She tasted of stale cigarettes and mint gum, her current oral fixation besides the longterm smoking vice she's had since middle school.

You reluctantly kissed back, feeling wrongness in your gut. This isn't how it was supposed to go, you weren't supposed to be sharing hot breaths or hearing her satisfactory groans for capturing you once again. You were supposed to be leaving teary eyed and frightened of what she'd do now that you were no longer on her good side. But this, was far worse. You were walking on ice that was already breaking, the freezing water below beginning to flood the only surface of land you had left.

Kali pulled away, not without a few last kisses to the corner of your mouth and cheek, leaving wet lipstick stains. Your lips were probably about as red as hers were now. Dark lashes heightened by her thick mascara clouded your view, your girlfriend looking up at you through them with a gentle hardness.

She wasn't so scary when you were falling to her whims, like putty in her fingers and teeth.

"Kal..." you mumble, upsettingly conflicted between your failure to carry out what you came for, and your fear of what her threats would do. Her history of breaking into your bedroom window and making herself at home wherever she tracked you left you without a doubt of her potential. It made you all the more anxious of what she would be like if you didn't follow through with what she wanted.

"My friend is out of town for the weekend, said I could use his condo by the beach... a getaway, just for us baby." Her cold thumb smoothed over your bruised lips, an inkling of a smile coming to curl her mouth upward. "You'll be there, tonight. Dressed in that cute little number you wore on our first date. Is that right?"

It wasn't a question, it was a challenge. 'Are you going to let go of this once in a lifetime second chance I'm giving you? ' is what she was asking.

You didn't want to say yes. You didn't want to show up, to spend another agonizing second with her knowing that your failing at everything you hold dear. But her hold on your face brings you to fall back into your comfort zone.

"Yeah, Kals. I'll... I'll be there. But--"

She laid a firm hand on your shoulder,  leaning against your ear with wrathful delight.

"Promise you won't bail on me, sweetheart. I don't wanna come looking for you," She let go of your sweet lips to play with a strand of your hair, curling it around her finger. "I really don't enjoy forcing you to obey.."

That was such a lie. She loved it, relished in your mild disobedience at times. But this was a different level of rebellion, one she detested.

You swallowed your protest, frustration bubbling in your stomach in distress and fear.

"I promise, Kal."

[dandylovesturtles]

alright, here it is: part 3 of the still untitled Room Fic! and boy is it long... this might be as long as parts 1 and 2 put together.

Content warnings for this part: vomit, serious discussion of food issues, internalized ableism, everyone being a little bit dumb

I am not a doctor and my meal plan for Leo is extremely lightly researched (mainly because it's hard to find information that would be helpful in Leo's situation but that isn't highly technical). in the end I went with what I like from a narrative standpoint. if someone starves as long as Leo did please get them to an actual doctor lol.

also I got tired and didn't proofread the last few sections.

just a warning that I'm going on vacation next week and will be out of the country for awhile so don't expect any more for this for quite some time. in the meantime, hope you enjoy this!

and if you're confused, start here!

-----

Leo wakes up.

The room is moving. His head is cradled in someone's lap. There's a furry hand stroking his arm, and a voice hums the notes of a lullaby he hasn't heard since he was a child.

-----

Leo wakes up.

He's lying somewhere soft and blessedly warm. There's a weight across his chest. Someone is chattering in his ear, happy and upbeat, saying something to him about Jupiter Jim on the desert planet Delta-5.

-----

Leo wakes up.

He's still somewhere soft but now it's too hot. He whines and pushes at the things on his chest. Near his ear someone tuts, and then a hand lands on his, giving it a squeeze.

"Nardo, you need to warm up. Don't-"

-----

Leo wakes up, and his eyes open.

"Leo?" comes Raph's voice. Leo blinks to clear his vision, then lets his eyes trail up, to find his big brother bending over him. "You awake for real this time?"

He isn't sure. Raph being here sure feels like a dream.

He lowers his eyes and looks around. He's not home. He doesn't recognize this place at all, actually. But the walls are beige (still unstimulating, but at least not white), the furniture is dark brown, the bed (not a cot) has a blue bedspread, the empty takeout containers on the table have a splash of red. It's not home, but it's not the room, either.

If he were going to dream, surely he'd just picture himself back home.

He blinks back up at Raph, and smiles.

"Wide awake," he says, echoing Raph from before.

Raph bursts into tears, immediately leaning down and wrapping Leo up in one of his signature hugs. For the first time in so many days (longer, longer, Leo can't remember the last time he got a Raph hug like this), Leo feels completely secure, fully enveloped in love and affection, held safe by his big brother where no one can hurt him.

The difference between this moment and the last week and a half is so stark it leaves Leo feeling dizzy. Like he hadn't even realized how scared and lonely and helpless he truly felt until all that pain was taken away. He's safe now. He's okay now. Raph is hugging him.

Leo hates crying in front of people, but even he can't be stoic for this.

"Oh Leo," says Raph softly once he realizes. "It's okay. We got'cha."

Leo sniffs, burying his face in Raph's plastron. He wishes he could hug back, but his limbs feel so heavy, like Donnie swapped them out for metal versions when he wasn't looking. So he can't hug back, but he leans in close and hopes that's enough.

They get about a minute to hug before Mikey is worming his way in between them, wriggling to push his arms past Raph's and around Leo for himself. "No fair, you got to hold him earlier!" Mikey declares, his voice thick with tears.

"You got to hug him earlier," Raph argues.

"He was asleep, it doesn't count!" Mikey hits back, and Leo laughs and shifts so Mikey can better get in the middle. Raph sighs exaggeratedly, but he gives Leo a pat and leans back to let Mikey in.

Mikey hugs even tighter than Raph, nuzzling in against Leo's shoulder. "I missed you," he says, then gives a choked sob he tries to bury.

"Missed you too," Leo promises, craning his neck so he can land a big smooch on Mikey's head. That replaces the sobs with relieved giggles that leave Leo feeling so much lighter.

After another minute, Mikey moves back and looks over at Donnie, who's been standing at the side of the bed wringing his hands. "Your turn, Donald."

Donnie makes a grumpy noise at having been perceived, but when Leo gets a look at his face he sees Donnie has tears shimmering in his eyes, too. They break free once Donnie's arms are around him, trickling onto the skin of Leo's shoulder.

"Crying over me, Don-ton?" he teases, even as his own voice is thick with emotion.

"Shut up, Nardo," Donnie snaps back, but his voice cracks at the end and he holds on even tighter.

"Alright, my turn," says April once Donnie starts to loosen his grip, and Donnie obligingly crawls off the bed, swiping at his eyes. Like he's looking for something to busy himself with, he starts throwing away the takeout containers on the table. They must be empty.

Leo tears his eyes away just as April swoops in to wrap him up in his fourth hug of the hour, giving him a kiss on his forehead as she does. "Hey, Leo. How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," he says again, and she squeezes him tighter. "Kinda hot."

"That's the hypothermia talking," says Donnie. April shushes him.

"Hypothermia?" Leo asks. April pulls back so she can see his face.

"It wasn't that bad," she says quickly. "You'd started brumating, we think... Tromping around in the snow didn't help, though."

"Not to mention you used up the last of your energy portaling us out of there," Mikey chimes in. "It was really cool though!"

Leo laughs. "Thanks, little brother." Even with the containers thrown away, the smell of the takeout is thick in the room. Leo guesses they had Japanese. It can't have been that long ago. "Where are we?"

"Motel room about two hours down the road." April slides to sit next to him, keeping one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Her body heat is warm in a more pleasant way than the blankets, and he leans into it. "We wanted to go further, but we needed to get you warmed up."

"A motel...? Huh." Leo looks around again. This is his first time being in a hotel that isn't owned by Big Mama. He wonders how far it is from the Japanese place. Just, like, average delivery time. "What happened? It's... kind of a blur for me." He laughs.

They launch into the story without any more prompting. It all sounds like what Leo expected. Raph led the team. Donnie did science stuff. Mikey razzed his tazz. April used her investigative skills.

They tracked him all the way down to Colorado (that explains the snow) and broke him out. They floored it away from the EPF, got far enough they felt safe, then booked into a motel under April's name. That's where they've been since. Splinter and Draxum are out now, patrolling to make sure they weren't followed or discovered.

It's quite the story. And Leo knows he should be paying more attention than he is.

It's just, the takeout boxes. The smell coming from them is so strong, or maybe Leo is just abnormally sensitive to it. He thinks someone had steak, and someone else had fish. The fried rice had egg in it. His mouth is watering so badly he has to swallow every few seconds.

"Leo?" calls Mikey, and Leo startles, ripping his eyes from the trash can to look at Mikey's face. He's gripping the bedspread so hard his knuckles are cramping. He realizes this is not the first time Mikey said his name. Great, now they know he wasn't paying attention.

"Ah, sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to zone out." He flashes them all the biggest smile he can, so they don't worry. "I was just, uh..."

He trails off, not sure of a way to say that he was completely distracted by the smell of their already eaten Japanese food without making it awkward.

"Sorry, Leo, we know you're tired," says Raph, reaching over and rubbing his head. "You can go back to sleep. We're not leaving for awhile."

Go back to sleep? Leo doubts he can, what with the hunger an empty yawning hole inside him. It had been muted while the cold and the exhaustion took over, but now that he's warmer and more rested his body is very painfully reminding him he still has another problem.

He's trying to come up with a casual way to approach the subject when his stomach does it for him, gurgling and growling loud enough that everyone hears it. Leo is very glad his blushes don't show up as easily as humans' do.

"Uh... heh heh." He scratches at his own cheek, then stops when he feels how disturbingly hollowed out it is. "Before that... are there any leftovers?"

Everyone's staring at him. Leo's too tired to puzzle out why they're all staring at him. Maybe there really aren't any leftovers? He did just watch Donnie throw everything away. Maybe there were some, but now they'd have to fish it out of the trash. Leo wants to say he'd happily eat it out of the trash, but that would be really weird and they'd stare at him even more.

(But he would eat it out of the trash. He may be too proud to say it out loud, but he can admit it to himself.)

"O-or," he says quickly, to fill the silence after his last question, "if... if it's not too much trouble, can you ask Dad and Barry to bring something with them when they come back? Even if it's just something from a gas station, or..." They're still staring, and Leo feels himself starting to ramble desperately, "Or if it's too late, I can just... I can just go back to sleep, hah, but... but can someone at least wake me up so I don't miss breakfast?"

His family stutters back to life at that. Raph gives a furious shake of his head and says, "Forget breakfast," which makes Leo's heart and stomach lurch painfully. Waiting until lunch? That feels like forever away.

But then Raph continues with, "Leo, why didn't you tell us you're hungry right now?"

Leo falters. "Uh... just... didn't want to interrupt the flow of the conversation," he says, which is true, but the way everyone is looking at him now, he's pretty sure it's the wrong answer.

"Please," says April, tone very close to exasperated, "interrupt the conversation."

"Will do," says Leo. But he's still not sure what to do, because no one has told him when food is coming.

(You want this? You beg for it.)

Before he can spin out on that thought, Mikey jumps off the bed and heads for the mini-fridge that Leo hadn't noticed until now. He yanks open the door and pulls out two takeout containers, a box and a cylindrical container.

"We weren't sure what you felt up to, so we got you steak hibachi and miso soup," Mikey says, waving each container in turn.

The thought of having to actually chew and swallow sounds exhausting, so Leo says, "Soup's fine." And then, just in case, he adds hastily, "Please."

"Okay," says Mikey, and even though he's clearly trying to sound upbeat, Leo can hear the strain in his voice. "Just give me a minute to heat it up for you!"

Leo would eat it cold. Leo would eat it frozen. But he bites that back and waits.

Mikey puts it in the microwave on top of the fridge. Every little tick down on the timer feels like it takes three eternities. The rest of his family seems to feel the tension as much as he does.

"April!" says Donnie abruptly, too loud to be natural. "You wanted to see what's on the sci-fi channel!"

"Thaaat's right!" she says, also a little too loudly. "I did. Hand me the remote."

Donnie gives her the remote. She turns on the TV just as the microwave dings.

Mikey yanks the door open as soon as it does, pulling the bowl out with no regard for how hot it is. He gives it a perfunctory blow to cool it down, then hurries over to the bed, pausing only to grab a plastic spoon off a little pile of utensils on the table.

He hands both the bowl and spoon to Leo, but Leo already knows his arms won't be able to maneuver the spoon, so he lets it fall into his lap, in favor of lifting the entire container to his lips. He hopes he doesn't look too pathetically eager as he tilts it back and takes his first sip.

It's good.

It's so good he starts crying.

It's not even the best miso soup he's ever had. In fact, it's a little too oily and nowhere near as good as the kind his dad makes, or what Mikey is capable of. But it doesn't matter. It wouldn't matter if this was the worst soup in the world, because right now it's the best thing Leo has ever tasted.

He may be crying more over this than he did over hugs from his family. Maybe he'll have it in him to feel bad for that later.

The TV is showing some old monster movie. His siblings pretend they're watching that and not watching him. He appreciates that, because it makes him feel less self-conscious as he desperately slurps down the soup, practically guzzling it, only pausing when he has to chew the greens here and there.

He eats until his stomach is full and warm. And then he keeps going. There's still soup left, and stopping feels impossible.

(Besides, no one actually promised him breakfast.)

"Hey, maybe you should slow down," says Donnie. Leo pauses, looking up at him, licking the remains of soup off his lips. The container is still about a third full.

Maybe Donnie is right. His stomach is actually starting to cramp. But... but...

He doesn't know what his face looks like right now. But something about it makes Donnie look sad.

He turns away, rubbing right between his fake eyebrows. "Okay, okay. Just... don't overdo it."

Leo sighs, grateful the soup isn't being taken away. He goes back to drinking it, feeling like the chasm inside him is finally beginning to fill.

-----

The next time Leo wakes up, it's because he has to puke. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to communicate that before it's all over himself and the bedsheets.

"Whoa, Leo-" someone says, and then there's a flurry of activity around him. He can't keep up with who goes where and who says what. It's a lot to keep track of when he just woke up and is spewing half-digested miso soup and stomach bile.

"There we go... You're alright, Blue, you're alright," he hears once he comes back to his senses, and he blinks and looks over. His dad is standing on the bed next to him, and he leans in with a damp washcloth and wipes at Leo's face and mouth.

"Perhaps the soup was too much for your stomach," Splinter says as he finishes, tossing the washcloth into the floor. "How do you feel?"

"Mm... weird," Leo admits, leaning sleepily into his dad's shoulder. He shouldn't because he's gross, but Splinter lets him do it, stroking his cheek. "My stomach hurts..."

The loss of the food hurts; without anything in his stomach, he'll feel hungry again soon. Leo is terrified of that, of the deep empty chasm of his hunger returning, sucking him down into its depths. At the same time, the idea of eating makes him feel queasy.

He feels weird, and miserable, and scared, and he doesn't know when his dad came back, but he's so glad he's here.

"How much did you let him eat?" he hears Draxum ask. Leo finds the energy to feel offended that he's being talked about like he isn't in the room, but not enough energy to actually say anything about it.

"As much as he wanted," Mikey answers. Which, as Leo recalls, was almost all of the soup.

"And how much was that?"

"Here, look."

There's the sound of the mini-fridge being opened again. The pop of the takeout lid. Draxum hums in a way that does not sound pleased.

"Leonardo," he says, coming to stand by the bed now. "I have a very important question and I need you to answer: when was the last time you ate?"

Leo stares at him blearily. Then he raises a tired hand and indicates the mess all down his front.

"Don't get cute," says Draxum, ignoring the following grunt of warning Splinter directs his way. "You know what I'm asking you."

Of course Leo knows. But he doesn't want to answer. Not while his dad is holding him, and all his siblings are watching him expectantly. They aren't going to like what he has to tell them. He doesn't want to upset them.

But Draxum is unmoved and steely eyed. There's no way Leo is getting out of this without answering.

He sighs, shutting his eyes and leaning into Splinter so he doesn't have to be looking at the rest of them when he says it.

"Last time I ate was at Run of the Mill."

He hears a gasp, hears Mikey yell, "What!?" Feels Splinter's sharp intake of breath under his cheek, and then his dad shifts so he can hold him even closer.

"They... they didn't feed you in there at all?" asks April, like she doesn't quite believe it.

Leo nods.

"I should have leveled the whole building!" Donnie snaps, and Leo hears something get knocked to the ground.

Mikey comes closer, and puts a hand on his shoulder, drawing Leo's gaze back his way. He looks so upset, and Leo regrets looking. "Leo, why didn't you tell us? You didn't even say you were hungry!"

"Felt weird to bring it up in the middle of the happy reunion," he says. It's a weak justification, he knows. The look on Mikey's face just gets more miserable.

"Wait," Raph cuts in. "Wait, so... when Bishop said he gave you chances to cooperate for better living conditions, he meant..."

Leo swallows hard, not wanting to look at the distress on Raph's face. "Feeding me, yeah."

"What did he want out of you? What was he making you do?"

This part, at least, Leo can answer easily. "He wanted information. About the yokai and the Hidden City."

Raph sounds surprised. "He just... wanted you to answer questions?"

"Yeah." Leo nods again. "Like, how to get in, how many portals there are, what kind of defense capabilities there are, stuff about Draxum... That's what I remember."

"Why didn't you just tell them?"

Now Leo does look at Raph's face. He's staring at Leo with open horror and distress. But Leo doesn't understand the question, or the look. He did what he was supposed to, didn't he? He held out and didn't give Bishop any information. He did the right thing. So Raph has no reason to look so upset.

He smiles in a way he hopes is reassuring. "Hey, that's not what a hero would do, right?"

It's apparently not reassuring. If anything, Raph only looks more horrified.

He turns away from Leo abruptly and marches straight out of the room, slamming the door on the way out.

Leo doesn't understand that reaction. He did what he was supposed to, but Raph is mad at him, anyway. The rest of his family seems shocked, too, so at least Leo isn't alone.

"I'll talk to him," says April, the first to move. She leaves with much less noise, disappearing into the dark parking lot beyond the door.

Awkward silence envelops the room after that. Leo doesn't know what to do or say to break it. He made Raph mad, because he never does anything right, according to Raph. It's the same as always, but for some reason Leo feels even worse this time.

"...Well," says Draxum, cutting through the awkwardness when it becomes clear no one else wants to, "knowing this, we will have to be much more careful about what and how much you eat. I'll make a meal plan."

"Why you?" Leo grouses. "Let Donnie do it."

Donnie opens his mouth like he wants to agree, but Draxum cuts him off before he can.

"Me, because I have actual experience designing nutritious meal plans for children." Leo thinks of what he's heard about Draxum's lunchroom and makes a face, which Draxum ignores. "Besides, I can't trust any of the rest of you to actually tell Leo he can't have more to eat."

"I can handle myself," Leo argues.

"Clearly," says Draxum icily, indicating the mess still in Leo's lap, "you cannot."

Leo doesn't have a good response for that, and no one steps up to his defense. Back not even twenty four hours, and he already has multiple people mad at him. That has to be a new record.

"...Whatever," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. Draxum nods like he actually gave approval.

There's another round of awkward silence. Splinter breaks it this time.

"Why doesn't someone call housekeeping to ask for some fresh sheets," he says, "while I help Blue take a bath."

"Ugh, yes, I'm calling them now," says Donnie. Leo notes for the first time that his most persnickety brother is as far from his bed as possible, having put the second bed and the table between them. "The whole room is starting to smell."

Leo cringes. "Sorry..."

"There is nothing for you to apologize for," his dad reassures him, patting his head. Leo isn't sure he'd say that, but he doesn't waste breath arguing. "Now, come with me."

It takes some maneuvering, but they get him out of bed without making a bigger mess. Mikey starts stripping the sheets, and he can hear Donnie on the phone with the staff across the room.

Leo's still not wearing any of his gear. It shouldn't matter because he's just in a room with his family, but he still walks to the bathroom as quickly as he can.

Splinter shuts the door once they're inside, then fills a little plastic cup with water. This he hands off to Leo, saying, "Drink this, and I will run you a nice warm bath."

Leo does as he says, and tries not to think too much about how Raph is mad at him.

-----

There's an old concrete barrier that stands between the motel parking lot and an open field. Raph hefts a piece of the crumbling concrete and chucks it as hard as he can, watching as it disappears into the tall grass beyond.

They starved him. They starved his little brother for over a week, because he wouldn't answer some questions. And he wouldn't answer those questions because...

That's not what a hero would do.

Raph's ninpo flares to life. Punching out another piece of the barrier is easy; he lifts the broken pieces and throws them after the first, watching them sail through the air.

"You better hope there aren't any security cameras out here," says a voice behind him, and he looks over his shoulder.

April is there, standing a few feet back, hands tucked in the pockets of her jacket. Raph's ninpo stutters out at the sight of her; he wonders if he looked scary.

"...What are they gonna do even if there are?" he asks. But he does stop his wanton destruction.

"I don't know, but just remember it's my credit card on file for damages." Her voice is teasing, though, and he knows she isn't actually mad. She comes over, turning so she can lean against part of the barrier that's still intact. "Come on, Big Red. Talk to me."

Raph doesn't turn around. He can't stand to look back at the motel, at the room where his brother is, tiny and weak and with a stomach that's been empty for days on end. He can't handle it right now. So he keeps his eyes on the field.

"Leo let those guys hurt him," he says.

"No he didn't," says April. "He can't help what they did to him."

"If he'd just answered their questions, they would have fed him."

"We can't know that." April shakes her head. "You heard what Draxum said about those guys. You saw what they were like. Maybe if Leo had answered their questions, they would have just killed him. Leo was probably thinking that, too."

"But that's not what he said," Raph points out.

"...Look." April takes a deep breath. "Leo... just went through a lot. We don't know what he was thinking while he was in there, or what he's thinking now. And you know that boy likes to say flashy things. Don't take anything he says right now too seriously."

"But what if this is the most truthful he's gonna be? What if he just hasn't thought of a good lie yet?"

"Raph-"

"No, you don't get it, April." Raph holds his head in his hands, like he can physically hold the dark thoughts at bay, but he can't, and they keep coming: horrific images of what could have happened, if they'd been too late, if the EPF had been less patient. "I told him to stop thinking of himself! Right before he disappeared, I told him he needed to be a hero! But Raph didn't mean like this!"

"Hey now, you don't know-" April tries, but Raph cuts her off.

"I just wanted him to stop doing everything himself! All the showboating, all the running in without talkin' to us... Raph just wanted him to remember that we're a team!" He lets go of his head and grips the concrete instead, so hard it cracks and crumbles under his fingers. "What if he took that to mean he should risk his life for everyone else? That he had to sacrifice himself?"

"Oookay, slow down there, big guy," says April, turning around and putting a hand on his arm. "You're taking one thing he said and blowing it way out of proportion."

"But what if I'm right?" Raph shakes his head. "How do I live with that, if I am? Knowing I almost killed him?"

"Okay, you look at me right now," she demands, in a way Raph can't refuse. He turns, and she reaches up and grabs his face by the cheeks, yanking him down until he bends to her eye level.

"You did not almost kill him. That was those EPF guys." Her voice is stern, and her grip on his face prevents him from objecting. "And even if you are right, and it's what you said to Leo that kept him from answering... well, then that's something the two of you will have to work out together."

She lets him go, putting her hands on her hips. "But what's done is done. Right now, Leo is exhausted and starved, and he's not really in a state for big emotional talks. So let's just get some space and get your head on straight. Once we get him home and everything's calmed down, the two of you can hash this out."

Raph lets out a strangled laugh, slumping down against the crumbling barrier. "Yeah, because that's so easy."

"I'm not saying it's easy." She sits down next to him, putting her hand on his arm. "But you guys love each other, so you'll do the hard things you have to do. I know you got this." She gives him a wink. "You're Raph."

Raph isn't sure he has that much faith in himself. But April isn't wrong very often, so he thinks he should probably listen to her.

-----

The water feels nice on Leo's skin, pleasantly warm and soothing. He sinks down until all but his eyes are in the water, letting it swirl around him.

He still feels a little exposed, but it's only Splinter in here, and that helps. It's like he's a little kid again, getting a bath from his dad, but he has to scrunch to cram his legs in the tub and that ruins the illusion.

"My Baby Blue always did enjoy a nice bath," says Splinter fondly, rustling up hotel soap for them to use.

He wets a washcloth and lathers it up, then cleans off the top of Leo's head and back of his neck, then down to his shoulders and the ridge of his shell. Leo would normally protest this kind of treatment, but right now he's not sure he can lift his arms above his head, so he doesn't.

Besides, it feels nice.

"Float on your front," Splinter says, adding, "Deep breath." It's what he always said when they were kids and he wanted to wash their shells. Everyone but Mikey can hold their breath for a long time, but he always says it anyway.

Leo takes a deep breath and flips onto his front, closing his eyes as his dad washes the back of his shell. It's so soothing he could almost take a nap here. The world is nicely muted under the water.

Splinter gives his shell three pats with his hand, the signal to sit back up. Leo does, rolling onto his back to rinse off. Splinter hands him the washcloth and soap, and he cleans his lower half, taking care around the bottom ridges of his shell.

"Thanks for the bath, Daddio," he says as he finishes. "I know I was starting to get pretty ripe." He pulls up the drain plug with a pop, watching the dirty water spin away.

He tries to imagine he's watching the last of that place drain away with it.

Splinter retrieves a fluffy white towel, drying off the top of Leo's head before handing it off. "I wasn't thinking of that," he says. "But I know a good bath always made you feel better when you were sick."

It was never really about the bath, but the undivided dad attention. How Splinter would wash his shell and pat his head and dry him off, just like he's doing now.

It occurs to Leo that he almost lost this forever, and its like his breath is taken away. He buries his face in the towel and tries to ride through it - he doesn't want to cry again.

Splinter must pick up on it, because suddenly he's sitting on the side of the tub, rubbing the top of Leo's shell. "It's okay, Blue. You're safe."

He's safe.

He really is safe, isn't he?

He lowers the towel and turns into his dad instead, wriggling his head into his lap. Splinter welcomes him, patting his head with one hand and the top of his shell with another. Leo's breath hitches and the tears break free.

"I know," says Splinter, and his voice is thick with emotion. Leo knows he can't look or he'll start sobbing. "I... was very scared for you, my son. I am so glad you're here, Leonardo. I love you very much."

"L-love you too," he warbles. His tears are falling fast, now, and Splinter takes the towel and dries them away every now and then.

By the time Leo sits up and rubs at his eyes, the towel is totally soaked through from being in the tub. Splinter moves away to grab him a fresh one, which Leo wraps himself up in.

"Leonardo," says Splinter hesitantly once he is out of the tub, "I know you may not want to talk about it right now. But I need to ask you this."

Leo wonders where this is going. He sits down on the toilet lid, looking at his dad. "Uh, okay."

Splinter looks him up and down before asking, "Did those men... hit you? Or touch you in any way?"

Oh. Leo shakes his head. "No. They didn't... I mean, they just put me in that room. They weren't, like... torturing me or anything."

He thought that would reassure his dad, but if anything Splinter only looks more sad.

"Not feeding you is torturing you," he says.

"Oh, well, yeah, I guess." Leo rubs the back of his head. "But I mean, they weren't... you know. Shocking me or whipping me or... putting me in that medieval stretchy thing from the movies."

"I see." His dad sighs, but nods. "Very well. I'm glad, at least, that you do not have any injuries."

Leo nods back. "Yeah, no, I'm all good." He tries to smile, but his smiles aren't really having the effect they usually do.

"Are you ready to go back?" asks Splinter, moving to the door. Leo nods again, standing up. "Are you still cold?"

Leo blinks in surprise, then realizes Splinter is referring to the towel he still has wrapped around himself. He's not really that cold anymore, but he grabs onto the convenient excuse, anyway.

"Uh, yeah." He grins sheepishly. "Actually, did you guys bring any of my clothes? I'm a little worried about the ride home."

"Ah." Splinter taps his chin. "I don't think we brought any of your things. Your brothers brought their hoodies, I believe, in case they needed to go in a store..." He reaches up and pats Leo's hand. "There is a gift shop in the motel lobby. I will send Purple and Orange in the morning - I'm sure they'd enjoy doing some shopping!"

"Thanks. I just need a sweatshirt or something. Maybe some pajama pants." He shrugs. "Gotta stay toasty, right?"

"That's right. No more turtle-cicles." Splinter reaches up and turns the doorknob, gesturing for Leo to lead the way.

Leo shuffles for the bed, keeping the towel tight around himself as he goes. He doesn't drop it until he's under the sheets again, safely tucked away.

Raph isn't back yet. The realization turns Leo's stomach. But Mikey barrels into bed next to him, cuddling up against one side, while Donnie scoots in on the other, tapping away at his phone, and Leo tries to forget about it.

He's sure that, as soon as he's better, Raph will be back to yell at him.

-----

Leo doesn't realize Draxum left until he comes back. He did doze off for a bit there, though, so it's not surprising.

Mikey was snoozing against Leo's arm, too, but when the door clicks shut he raises his head, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Donnie looks up from his phone. Splinter's asleep in the other bed, only grumbling incoherently at the noise before rolling over.

(Raph and April still haven't come back. It makes Leo's heart thud a little harder.)

"Hey Barry," says Mikey, voice still a little sleepy. He pushes himself up to sit against the pillows. "Find what you were looking for?"

"Yes." Draxum walks over to the bed, pulling a bottle out of a pharmacy bag. He twists the cap loose, then holds it out and says, "Leonardo, drink this."

Leo can't help the way his face screws up as he takes it, eyeing the label on the bottle. "Eugh. What is this?"

"Vegetable juice," Draxum informs him dryly.

"Gross." Leo does not bring the bottle any closer to his lips. "Can I have soda instead?"

"Absolutely not." Draxum's voice is stern. "No sugar or caffeine until I say otherwise."

The next several days are looking worse and worse. Leo grimaces. "Can I just drink water, then?"

"You can and should drink water. But you also need to steadily reintroduce your body to nutrients. The vegetable juice will help, until your stomach can handle more solid food at a time."

Leo groans, eyeing the bottle warily. Anything labeled "juice" should not be this color of red-orange.

"Draxum's just trying to help, Leo!" Mikey chimes in. "Besides, vegetable juice isn't that bad."

It's not the most reassuring endorsement, given that Mikey loves vegetables in a way Leo has never understood. But with his little brother cheering him on, he can't back down.

"Fine. Down the hatch," he mutters, then takes a swig. It tastes just as off-putting as he was imagining, and he shudders and smacks his lips. "Yuck."

"Sorry, Leo." Mikey pats his arm comfortingly. "As soon as Barry says it's okay, we'll get pizza!"

"Please don't remind me of pizza right now..."

"Here." Leo looks up to find Draxum is holding out a handful of crackers. "Eat these, too. Be sure you chew them thoroughly before you swallow. And keep drinking the juice."

Leo takes the crackers in his free hand, putting them in his lap on top of the sheets. There's only six, and they look boring even for crackers. but his stomach perks up with interest, reminding Leo that everything he put in it before got thrown up.

Leo thought he was going to be waiting until breakfast to eat again. The crackers ease that tension, relief he hadn't consciously realized he needed.

Still, can't let Draxum think Leo actually appreciates all his bullying, so Leo still makes a face as he holds up one of the crackers and examines it.

"And these are...?"

"Are you going to react like this to everything?" asks Draxum with a scoff. "They're whole wheat crackers. They'll settle your stomach, and you need food in you so can take these vitamins."

He pulls a bottle out of his bag and shakes it, filling the room with the sound of pills rattling around. Leo scrunches up his snout.

"You didn't get me the chewable kind? Or those fruit gummy ones?"

"Are you such a child you need your medicine in the form of candy?" Draxum rolls his eyes. "You will be just fine with the pills."

"Okay, okay!" Leo groans theatrically, leaning his head back. "I can't believe you guys are letting him take care of him. He'll be feeding me bugs and leaves next."

"Stop whining. No one wants to hear it this late."

"I actually like these crackers," says Donnie. "They're delightfully bland."

This statement is followed by a crunch.

The sound sends a shiver up Leo's shell, and he turns his head in time to see Donnie, one of Leo's crackers in his hand, a big bite taken out of it. He chews and swallows with a slight smile on his face, clearly unconcerned that he just took one of Leo's crackers.

Leo only had six crackers to start. Now there's five. He doesn't know when he gets any more. No one promised him breakfast. And now he only has five crackers, and not six. And he can feel the hunger coming back.

Donnie turns his head and they lock eyes. Leo has no idea what his own expression looks like, but Donnie's turns startled and then almost frightened. He's so shocked he drops the rest of the cracker into his own lap.

Leo just barely stops himself from snatching it back.

Because that would be weird. What he's doing right now is weird. Everyone is staring at him, the room has gone silent, he's acting like Donnie just committed an unforgivable sin when all he did was take a cracker, like the two of them haven't been casually taking each other's food their entire lives.

He's being weird. He needs to stop. He needs to go back to normal right now.

Five crackers can be enough. It's enough it's enough it's-

Leo forces his brain to restart, his face and posture to relax, his fingers to unclench. He schools his mouth into an unserious grin, glancing back at Draxum. "H-hey, so... how many crackers do I need to eat? Since Thief-atello just stole one."

"I'm sorry," Donnie blurts out, an extremely rare apology. "I wasn't thinking."

Leo waves a hand. "It's cool, man," he says.

"No," Donnie insists. "I shouldn't have done that, I don't know why I did that-"

Great, first he pisses off Raph and now Donnie's freaked out. Leo's family came all the way to Colorado to save him and all he's done since then is upset them.

"Dee," says Leo, and he knocks one shoulder against Donnie's. "Seriously. It's fine."

Because it is. They take food from each other all the time. Leo's the one who made it weird, not Donnie, even if he did take one of Leo's crackers.

Donnie looks at him, uncertain. He still hasn't touched the remaining cracker in his lap. Leo wishes he would finish eating it now, so it isn't tempting him.

"...Still. I won't do it again," says Donnie finally, looking down at his lap and wringing his hands. He looks miserable, and Leo hates that he caused this.

Before he can do or say anything more, Draxum gets Leo's attention by holding out a new cracker. "Here," he says, waiting until Leo takes it, before handing a few to the still shell-shocked Donnie. "Both of you can have crackers. Now don't squabble, you'll disturb the neighbors."

Donnie puts the crackers in his lap and doesn't touch them again. The air in the room is stifling. And Leo wants to eat his own crackers, but now it feels awkward.

"I think you should steal one of his to get him back," says Mikey in an exaggerated whisper, a gallant attempt to dispel the tension. It doesn't quite work, but it breaks the silence enough for Leo to force out a chuckle and pick up a cracker.

"Everyone eat what you've been given and settle down," says Draxum, going to sit on the other bed. Splinter mumbles in his sleep again and rolls over. Everyone relaxes a little more.

Leo bites into the cracker. It tastes like all of nothing, but it has a pleasant crunch between his teeth, and he finds that he likes it.

Next to him, Donnie hesitantly finishes off his own half-finished cracker. Then he half-heartedly eats the others. Leo drinks his vegetable juice, then swallows the pill Draxum gives him.

Mikey does his best to fill the room with happy chatter, and the mood lightens, little by little.

Everything's okay. He just can't do that again.

-----

Everyone but Draxum is asleep when Raph and April come back into the room, just a little before dawn. Splinter is splayed out across the bed closest to the door, while all three of his little brothers are curled around each other in the bed by the bathroom.

Raph and April spent a long time sitting by the barrier, talking intermittently between long spells of silence. Then they moved to the tank, taking a nap together on the bench seats.

April has her travel pillow and blanket now, and she takes both and spreads out at the foot of his brothers’ bed, wisely putting her head by Donnie, who sleeps still as the dead, and not Mikey, who has already moved several times since they walked in. She yawns and then conks out almost immediately, glasses held loosely in her hand against her chest.

Raph wishes he didn’t feel quite so wide awake.

Draxum is sitting in one of the chairs by the table, phone in hand. He has a notebook open and scribbles into it with a pen. Raph comes over and takes a peek: it’s all notes about nutrition, the vitamins that are most critically needed after a long term starvation event.

Draxum’s helping Leo. That makes Raph feel better, and he sinks into the other chair, leaning his head back.

“You should try to get some sleep,” says Draxum, voice low. “We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“Raph’s good,” he says, staying where he is.

He feels Draxum’s eyes on him, for a moment. “I’m taking watch. Go to sleep, Raphael.”

Raph hesitates, then gets up from the chair and goes to lay down next to his dad. Splinter grumbles in his sleep, but rolls over like he knows to make room for a son crawling into his bed.

From here Raph can see Leo’s face. It’s gaunt and washed out, and even with all the sleeping he’s done there are still dark circles under his eyes. He looks so fragile, and the anger burns in his chest again, that anyone could hurt him like this.

He’s safe now, though. Mikey has an arm curled around his plastron, and Donnie flanks his other side like a guard. He’s able to rest, and eat, and get better.

Raph remembers what April said. Give Leo time to heal, then talk about what happened in there. He can do that. He can be patient.

He hadn’t thought he would be able to sleep, but lying still, with his sleeping family all around him, safe and sound, puts him under in minutes.

-----

"Morning, Leo!"

Leo blinks awake, taking in his surroundings. The walls are beige, the bed is blue, there's a TV playing the morning news on low volume, there's sunlight shining through the window.

He can smell food.

"It's breakfast time!" says Mikey. He's standing next to the bed, holding a tray. Leo wriggles until he's sitting up against the pillows, grinning as he pats his lap.

"Thanks, Mikey."

"You're welcome!" Mikey gives Leo a thousand watt smile as he sets the tray down.

Leo wishes he could feel as enthusiastic as his little brother as he gets a look at his breakfast. There's a large cup of white yogurt, and a little plate of scrambled eggs that don't even look like they have pepper on them. He's glad he has food, he just wishes it was something more exciting.

He lifts his eyes and takes a look around the room. Donnie is in one of the chairs by the table, tapping away on his phone. April is in the other chair, and she smiles and gives him a little wave when he meets her eyes. His dad is in the other bed, munching on what looks like a muffin and watching the news. He doesn't see Raph, but he hears the shower running.

Draxum is standing by the doorway, watching Leo. When their gazes meet, he sighs, rubbing the furrow on his forehead.

"Are you going to ask me what you're eating again?"

"Yes!" Leo points at the cup of yogurt. "What is this!? It's not even fruit flavored!"

"It's Greek yogurt. You can have fruit when your stomach is more settled."

"Ugh..." Leo sighs, grabbing the plastic spoon off his tray and scooping up a tiny bite of yogurt. It's not terrible, but without any fruit it's not very exciting.

"Hey, look at the bright side," says Mikey, holding out a plastic cup. "You get apple juice this morning! Since it had no sugar added, Draxum said it's okay!"

Leo musters up a smile. "Well, it's better than vegetable juice..."

"Don't get too excited," says Draxum dryly. "You'll be drinking more on the drive home."

"You're such a buzzkill, Drax," Leo huffs, taking a bite of his eggs now. They're unseasoned, but they're something. And there's the part of him that is just happy to have any food, simmering under the surface and demanding he eat faster. To keep himself from cramming the whole of the plate in his mouth at once, he turns to Mikey. "Hey, sneak me a muffin. Blueberry or chocolate chip."

Mikey grimaces. "I don't think Barry wants me to do that..."

Leo pouts, chewing his eggs slowly. "Who are you going to listen to, him or me?"

"He'll listen to me," says Draxum sternly. "If you're still hungry after that, you can have some more crackers."

Leo sighs, but part of him feels better knowing the crackers are still on the table. He crams more eggs in his mouth and chews as sulkily as possible.

There's an Old Navy ad playing on TV. Splinter sits up straighter in bed when he sees it, getting muffin crumbs everywhere. "Ah, that reminds me! Blue wanted some warm clothes to wear on the ride home." Splinter reaches out and pats Mikey on the arm. "Orange, Purple - why don't the two of you go to the gift shop and do some shopping? You can get a souvenir for yourselves as well."

"Oooh, yes!" Mikey bounces excitedly in place. "Dibs on picking out Leo's clothes!"

"Gasp!" Donnie stands up, pointing at him dramatically. "You know I'm the fashionable one in this family! Leo, tell him you want me to pick out your clothes for our return trip!"

"Mmm, I dunno..." Leo grins up at his little brother, giving him a wink. "I think Angelo's got this."

Donnie makes a noise of utter betrayal while Mikey cheers and stoops to give Leo a hug. "I won't let you down, Leon!" he promises, giving Leo a big smooch on the top of his head.

"I know you won't."

"Fine then! I'll just have to make you all jealous with my own selections." Donnie looks down. "April, do you want to join us?"

"Yeah, sure." April stands up, stretching her arms above her head. "Maybe I'll get a keychain or something."

The three of them file out of the room, Donnie and Mikey still arguing animatedly. Draxum takes one of the abandoned chairs, and Splinter goes back to watching the news.

Leo continues eating his bland breakfast, and tries not to spend too much time wondering when his next meal will be. At least he's been promised crackers.

-----

Raph comes out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, just as Leo's finishing up his breakfast with a few crackers. He nearly jumps when their eyes meet.

"Oh, hey, Leo," he says, voice a forced cheerful. "You're awake! That's great!"

"Yeah," says Leo back, trying not to sound too awkward and failing. He holds up his empty cup. "Just finished breakfast."

"O-oh, yeah. Was it... good?"

Leo grimaces. "Not really."

"Oh." Raph hovers in the doorway, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Leo wonders if he should apologize, but he still doesn't know what he's apologizing for, so he doesn't.

He'd know if Raph would just go ahead and yell at him, but Raph doesn't seem eager to start. Maybe he doesn't think Leo is healed up enough yet, or maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of Splinter. Either way, no yelling seems forthcoming.

Instead, Raph says, "Uh, where's everyone else?"

"Shopping for clothes for Blue and for souvenirs for themselves," Splinter answers.

"Oh, cool. Maybe... maybe I'll go join 'em!"

Raph pats Leo on the head as he goes by, then leaves the room like it's on fire. Leo is silent; he has no idea what to say or do.

He's out of food now, too. He's already asked Draxum for crackers once, and he's not sure if asking again will actually gain him anything. And with Mikey gone, he feels too anxious to try.

He settles back on his pillows and turns his eyes to the TV, lifting the plastic spoon in his hands. He slots the handle between his teeth and chews, relaxing at the feel of it. It's sturdier than the water bottles, so he can't flatten it down as easily, but the way he can munch on it endlessly has its own appeal.

The news drones on. His dad laughs at something the anchors say. Draxum scribbles away at a notebook. And Leo leans back on his pillows and chews on the spoon.

On the ticker at the bottom of the screen, he notices the tail end of a news item about a training accident at a military facility in Colorado Springs - one injured.

-----

The outfit Mikey has picked out is a sky blue hoodie with "PIKE'S PEAK" in big block letters and darker blue plaid sweatpants. They meet Leo's standards for softness and comfiness, if not quite his standards for style. It's fine, because he's after the former right now.

"Did I do good?" Mikey asks, bouncing on his toes.

"You did great," Leo responds, motioning him closer so he can rub his head affectionately. It lacks his usual punch, but Mikey laughs and wiggles away anyway.

"We also got," Mikey rummages around in the gift store bag, then pulls out, "matching fuzzy socks!"

The socks are in their signature colors and have snowboarders on them, and each set has a terrible pun like, "SNOW RULES!" and "COOLER THAN COOL!" Leo loves them immediately.

"I think this is the best gift you've ever gotten me," says Leo sincerely. Mikey beams and comes in for a hug that Leo gladly returns.

"Here, put 'em on!" says Mikey after he backs away, nodding at the hoodie and pants on the bed. "You don't want to be cold, right?"

"Right," says Leo, lifting the hoodie in his arms. A quick glance around the room shows that they're all looking at him now - Mikey, Donnie, and April by the bed, Splinter from the other bed, Draxum at the table, Raph hovering in the doorway. Waiting for him to put the clothes on.

He wishes they wouldn't.

It's weird. He's never felt self-conscious like this. He and his brothers have never really practiced modesty the way humans do, especially around each other. And yet the idea of standing in front of them now with no clothes, not even his mask, makes him feel strangely queasy.

He tries to tell himself it's because of how he looks now. Stick thin arms and legs, weird, unhealthy skin tone, dark circles under his eyes that a few hours of unconsciousness and one night of intermittent sleep have definitely not erased. That it's just his normal vanity.

But he can still feel it: that guard's eyes on him, any time he left the safety of his hiding spot under his cot.

He pulls the hoodie on over his head while he's still in bed. Then he crawls out of bed and pulls the pants on as fast as he can.

He looks around to see if anyone noticed, but their expressions haven't changed. Mikey gives him a thumbs up.

He relaxes. With the clothes on, the feeling of being exposed finally ebbs away. And it is warmer like this, which is a plus.

It's okay. In a day or two, he'll be over this weird self-consciousness and back to normal, and no one has to know about it.

"Well, how do I look?" he asks, grinning and turning in a circle. Mikey and April clap indulgently for him.

"Lookin' good, Leo," says April, and he gives her a wink.

"Well, even though you chose to forego my aesthetic sensibilities, I got you something, too," says Donnie, pushing his way forward. He holds out a pair of flipflops, which say "We're in" and "CO" on the toes and have cartoon giraffes on the heels. Leo can't help but grin when he sees them. "Trust me, you'll want these if we have to go into any gas station restrooms. Shudder."

Leo laughs, then reaches out an arm to pull Donnie into a hug before he can escape. To his surprise, Donnie doesn't even put up a token fight against it, hugging him back more fiercely than usual.

"Thanks, I love them," he says into Donnie's ear.

"Of course you do," says Donnie smugly, but his eyes are suspiciously shiny when he breaks the hug. Nothing feels awkward between them now, even given the cracker incident earlier, and Leo is glad.

“Okay!” says April, clapping her hands. “Checkout’s in thirty minutes - if you have anything else to do, do it now.”

“Wait,” says Leo, looking around. “Where’s my mask?” It’d be nice for hiding the dark circles.

“Oh, I think Raph grabbed it,” says April, but when she turns, Raph is gone. April presses her fingers to her forehead and sighs. “Okay, you can get it later.”

Leo’s mouth suddenly feels dry. He reaches around and grabs a bottle of vegetable juice Draxum gave him, draining the last of it.

“Checkout in twenty eight minutes,” says Donnie to cut the awkwardness. “Let’s go, people!”

Leo sits on the bed and watches his family prepare to leave, gnawing on the top of his juice bottle.

-----

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” calls a voice, and Leo blinks awake to see April standing over his cot. No, not the cot - this is the bench seat in the tank. If he’s going to be sleeping so much, he needs to stop waking up confused.

And he has been sleeping a lot. The only time they woke him up was to eat another snack of crackers with a little bit of mushed up banana, like he’s some kind of baby.

The banana did help break up the monotony, though.

Leo can’t help but hope he’s being woken up for food again.

Like she read his mind, April grins and holds out a hand to help him up. “Lunch time!” she announces.

“Oh boy,” says Leo, taking the hand and slowly getting to his feet. He’s stiff from lying in the tank for so long, and he stretches and pops his arms. “More flavorless mush.”

“Maybe we can convince Drax to give you a little salt this time,” says April with a snicker. She waits for him to slip the flipflops on, then leads him out of the tank.

It occurs to him that this is the first time he’s really been out in the sun in over a week, excluding times he’s been unconscious and the short walk from the motel room to the tank. He takes a minute to just lean his face back and feel the warmth of it on his skin. It hasn’t even been that long, and he’s used to life underground, but somehow it feels different this time, foreign and new and sweet.

When he looks back at April, she’s tearing up again. She quickly wipes at the bottoms of her eyes and pulls on a smile, linking her arm around his.

“Come on. We can grab a picnic table and sit outside.”

It's then that Leo actually takes in where they are: a big travel center, or that's what the sign on the building declare. The tank is parked at the gas pumps, and Donnie, with his hood up, is excitedly talking about it to some interested truckers who have come over. He spots Mikey over at the grassy space for dog walking, laughing while a puppy licks his face, a seemingly annoyed Draxum standing off to the side with his arms folded. He doesn't see Raph or Splinter, but April fills him in as they cross the parking lot.

"Raph and Splints are inside ordering food. They have a whole diner in there!"

"Let me guess: I'm eating soup."

"I think it's potato."

"Well, at least it's not more tomato." Leo makes a face. "If I have to drink any more vegetable juice I'm going to turn red and swell up into a ball."

"You know what pizza sauce is made out of, right?" she asks, playfully bumping into him.

"Actually, I don't," he says smoothly, bumping into her back. They fake tussle outside the door for a moment, until both of them are laughing.

Someone trying to get past clears their throat loudly, and April and Leo shoot them an apologetic look before going on inside. Leo visits the restroom and tries not to look too long at the arrays of snacks on offer. April goes to help Raph and his dad with the food.

They all end up back outside at a large picnic table. His family has a mix of foods: burgers, hot dogs, salads, chicken strips. He knows there was pizza inside, and it touches him that no one picked it.

Next to everyone else's large, full plates, his own bowl of soup feels ridiculously small and sad. But he doubts any amount of pouting will convince Draxum to let him have a burger, so he digs in. At least this has some flavor.

Lunch is nice, even if Raph is still acting weird and distant. It’s just good being in the sun and the fresh air. Leo is reluctant to leave as they finish up.

“Come with me!” says Mikey as the others go to throw their trash away and buy anything they need for the return trip. He holds out his hand, and Leo takes it and follows Mikey back toward the grassy area at the edge of the parking lot. They make sure there are no dog droppings, then lay down in the grass, looking up at the blue sky and the clouds going overhead.

“I thought it’d be nice to get a little more sun before we have to get back in the tank,” says Mikey, limbs splayed out in every direction. He’s taken off his hoodie - no one at the travel center has paid much attention to the peeks of green skin they’ve been showing off, and no one is nearby right now, anyway.

It is a little hot. But the idea of being shirtless where a stranger can see him keeps Leo fully swaddled.

He pushes that thought aside, closing his eyes and just trying to enjoy the feeling of the sun on his skin, the breeze blowing by, the grass under his fingers. He doesn’t get to touch a lot of grass in the city, but it reminds him of times they would sneak out to Central Park.

“This is really nice, Angelo,” he says. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmmm.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, just laying there, with only the ambient sounds of the travel center keeping them company. Leo starts to feel like he might doze off again.

“…Hey Leo?”

Leo blinks his eyes open, craning his neck to see Mikey. “Yeah?”

“Are you… okay?”

Ah. Maybe he should have expected this.

“Of course I’m okay,” he says, voice nonchalant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Uh, well…” Mikey hesitantly trails off, clearly trying to decide what he wants to say.

Leo takes care of it for him. “It’s over, Mikey. You guys saved me. I’m okay.” He turns his head and grins. “And once Draxum stops being the food police, everything will be back to normal.”

“Mmm…” Mikey doesn’t sound as convinced as he should. Man, Leo’s smiles are really failing him lately. “But… if something’s bothering you… You’ll tell us, right?”

Leo pats his head. “Of course I will.”

If it’s worth bringing up to them, anyway.

Mikey’s eyes rove his face for a moment, but in the end he must be satisfied, because he smiles and rolls to toss his arm over Leo’s chest. “Okay. But I’ll hold you to that.”

“Or what, I’ll get a visit from the doctor?”

“You know it!”

Leo laughs, which gets Mikey laughing. They stay there until Raph calls their names across the parking lot, and they go back to the tank.

-----

He manages to stay awake after they stop for lunch, curled up on the bench seat. He doesn’t have the energy to talk as much as normal, but he leans against Donnie and contributes where he can. He’s just happy to be back with them, hearing and seeing them all around him.

But there’s something always at the back of his mind keeping him from fully relaxing: he doesn’t know when he gets to eat next. And he knows it will be okay - he’s with his family, and they’d never let him go hungry. He knows that, but about two and a half hours after lunch, he keeps finding himself returning to the same thought.

He’s drinking on a sugar-free Gatorade they got him at the travel center; one of the only non-vegetable or fruit drinks Draxum approved. Mikey has just finished up a story from one of the many art vlogs he watches, and, in the lag of conversation, he tries to broach the subject casually.

“Sooo… what’s our plan for the rest of the drive? Are we stopping, or…?”

“We’re going to try to make it all the way back to New York,” says April. “We already have our shifts picked out, and the autopilot is helping.”

“We can stop in a few more hours for another bathroom break,” says Donnie, pulling up a holoscreen showing their route and the drive time remaining. “Unless someone needs us to stop sooner.” He glances at Leo, and the way he’s bouncing the rim of the bottle off his teeth.

“Oh, uh, I’m good,” he says quickly, lowering the bottle. "I'm just wondering, uh... what about stopping for dinner?"

His family does about as good a job being subtle about looking at each other as he's being subtle about his worry. "We were thinking we'd probably try to find something around seven," says Donnie.

Seven. It's a little after three now. Okay. He can wait that long. What's four hours? And at least he knows what to expect now.

His family hesitantly return to their conversation. And Leo does his best to pay attention. April is telling them about all the stuff she's been doing to prepare for college in the fall, how she's already chatting with people running the student paper. She's excited about it, and Leo is excited for her.

"Ew, Leo," says Donnie suddenly, tearing him out of his thoughts. "Why are you doing that?"

Leo looks over at him in confusion. He starts to ask, Doing what?, but when he opens his mouth to speak, something falls out of his teeth and into his lap.

It's the Gatorade bottle cap, chewed down flat. Leo can see the marks from where his molars snapped through the lip, and the dents where he's been gnawing at it with his incisors.

He didn't even know he was doing that.

Everyone saw him doing that.

Embarrassment flushes through him, and he scrambles to grab the lid and toss it into their communal trash sack. Maybe no one noticed how thoroughly he had chewed on it.

"Gross," says Donnie, his nose scrunched up. So at the very least he saw. "You don't know where that's been."

"Oh please, it's not that gross," says Leo, doing his best to keep his voice light and airy. "It's just a bottle cap."

"That other people have touched and that you put into your mouth."

"Don't knock it till you try it, bro."

"I'm good not trying it."

"Your loss," says Leo with a shrug. He leans back, cool and calm and collected and not a total weirdo who gnaws on plastic like it's candy. "Stop looking at me like that, I threw it away already."

Donnie stops looking at him, literally. Things feel tense again. Leo doesn’t know how he keeps managing that.

Mikey jumps up, walking to the front of the tank, where Draxum is asleep in one of the chairs. Mikey shakes him awake, smiling in the face of his annoyed grumbling.

“Hey, Barry, is it okay if Leo has a snack?”

“Why do you have to ask him?” calls Leo, folding his arms. “Besides, I’m fine!”

His protests go ignored. “What time is it?” asks Draxum, sitting up and smoothing down his robes.

“I’m fine!” insists Leo, louder.

“It’s three fifteen,” Mikey says.

“Mm… Yes, he can have a snack.” Draxum gets up, going over to their snack cooler. “Leonardo, do you want crackers or more banana?”

“I’m fine!” Leo tries one more time, but his stomach flips when it occurs to him that he may actually not get a snack if he insists, and he wants the snack.

He sighs, sinking back in his seat, and says, “Crackers.” He wants the crunch of eating them.

Draxum brings him his crackers. There’s only four. He’s not sure why he’s getting less this time. Maybe because he was caught chewing on the lid.

He doesn’t ask. He eats what he’s been given, and then decides the best thing for everyone would be if he took another nap.

-----

Raph would have driven them all the way to New York if he’d been allowed. But they insist on having him swap with Donnie, and he ends up sitting in the back on the benches with because the other front chairs are hard for him to fit in.

Leo is asleep. He’s been sleeping a lot, but that’s to be expected. His body barely has any energy, and going by the dark circles, Raph knows he didn’t get much sleep while he was…

When Leo is awake, his family are their lively selves, chatting and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Once he goes to sleep, everyone quiets down, Donnie dims the lights in the cab, and a weird melancholy sets in.

Leo looks terrible. They haven’t talked about it, but they all know it. Raph is shocked Leo has even been able to walk on his own, but Draxum attributes that to their reinforced mutant biology. He’s swimming in a hoodie that is his size, his hands and feet are skeletal where they poke out of his clothes. Raph wonders how long it will take for him to start filling out again, to have muscle like he did before. He’s afraid to ask.

Splinter sits with Leo’s head in his lap, rubbing his shell any time he shifts in his sleep. Mikey curls up against Raph and sniffles, and Raph pulls him closer.

He has to keep reminding himself that Leo is here, and safe. He just ate a snack, and soon they’ll get another meal in him. Just give it a week or two, and they’ll have their brother back.

And then, he’ll make sure Leo knows he never has to sacrifice himself again.

-----

Home looks just like Leo remembered it, and feels totally foreign at the same time.

His family clap for him as he walks in, and he does a little bow, which is a poor decision because it leaves him feeling lightheaded after. Luckily Raph is there to catch him and carry him from the garage to the chair in the living room. Things are still weird between them, but at least Raph isn't totally avoiding him.

(Raph still hasn't yelled at him. He wishes they could just get it over with.)

They eat lunch, with Leo getting bland soup and crackers again. Draxum notes that he could have peanut butter if they could have it in the lair, which makes Raph look pointlessly guilty, so Leo changes the subject. After lunch, April gives him a big hug and tells him she'll see him soon, but she has to go back home before her mom gets too worried. Leo feels bad when he learns she's missed several days of class now, but she just laughs and pats his head.

"I'm a senior and it's May, Leo; that I show up at all is enough for them."

Everyone's tired from being on the road for over twenty four hours, so after April leaves they unanimously agree on a movie marathon/turtle pile in the living room. His brothers drag out their comfiest pillows and blankets and set up in the floor, while Splinter cuddles up with Leo in his recliner. Draxum actually stays, to everyone's surprise, and Mikey jumps at the opportunity to introduce him to the magic of Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim.

Leo drifts in and out the whole evening. He'll be awake for the whole first act of a movie, then blink and suddenly they're partway through a different film. Each time he wakes his dad is there, patting his hand and saying, "Hello, Blue," and his brothers are around him, quoting their favorite lines or jumping up to act along with their favorite parts. It's normal and it's familiar and it's warm and soft.

He eats more soup for dinner, and crackers and banana and a little pudding cup, as a treat. His family gets more sleepy as evening turns to night; his dad's snoring fills the room, and Draxum finally leaves to go to his apartment. His brothers settle in and fall asleep around the middle of Jupiter Jim's Last Trip to the Moon 17, curled up in a heap at the foot of the chair.

He's home.

He's really home.

It's over.

Leo buries his face in his dad's fur and lets that thought carry him to sleep.

-----

Leo's home and it's amazing.

Raph wishes that meant everything was back to normal.

He doesn't know how to be around Leo right now. Every time he looks at him, he sees the stick thin arms and the gaunt face and he hears Leo's voice saying, That's not what a hero would do, and he doesn't know what to say anymore. What if he accidentally says something that makes Leo feel like what happened to him was right? What if he accidentally makes Leo think he should do it again?

It's only been a day, he tries to tell himself. Leo's still spending most of his time sleeping, between his regular snacks and meals. Even when he's awake, he doesn't have much energy for conversation, seeming content to just sit and listen to everyone else. It's just not the right time. It'll get better once Leo is better.

He can wait until then.

It's the afternoon now, the day after they brought Leo home. Raph just finished his workout and is making his rounds to check on everyone, just to make sure that everyone is... well, just to make sure. Splinter is in the kitchen making tea, a kind with no caffeine or sugar, as per Draxum's instructions. Mikey and Leo are in the living room, a half-asleep Leo watching Mikey play video games on the projecter.

Donnie isn't there.

His heart lurches, no matter how much he tells himself it's okay. Donnie is fine, Donnie is home, Donnie hasn't gone missing, not right after they got Leo back.

(He'd tried to tell himself Leo was fine in the beginning, too.)

He checks their rooms first, but Donnie's is empty. Then it's up to the lab, where he finds the door closed.

He knocks, and a robotic voice asks for identification. He sighs, not wanting to play this game right now.

"Donnie, it's me. You better be in there..."

The door beeps and then slides up, revealing a dimly lit lab. At first, Raph thinks he must not be here, and he's about to turn to leave, but then he hears a noise from Donnie's big computer desk.

A sniffle.

His big brother senses shifting into hyperdrive, he speed-walks over. The door slides shut behind him with a mechanical whir.

Sure enough, Donnie is there, legs pulled up into his desk chair, face buried in his knees. His goggles are off and laying on the desk, and his computer monitor shows a video, frozen on...

A white room, almost empty, save the cot that is for some reason propped up in front of the toilet, and...

Donnie sniffles again, and Raph tears his eyes away from one little brother to the other.

"Donnie...? What is this?"

Donnie sniffs and sits up a little more, rubbing under his eyes where tear tracks are already drying. "It's the surveillance video from the EPF base."

Raph gathered that much. "Why... are you watching it?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Donnie looks up at him. "I wanted to see what they did to him."

"You couldn't just ask him?"

Donnie's drawn on eyebrows go down. "I don't know, do you want to ask him?"

Raph imagines trying to ask Leo questions like that and can't help but cringe. "Okay, no. Raph doesn't want to do that."

"Exactly." Donnie gestures at the screen. "I got this footage from the base. And I erased it permanently from their systems, for the record, and destroyed the hard drives to be sure. But I kept a copy for us. I thought, if Leo wasn't in a state to... well, just in case. We might need it for medical reasons."

"But we know what's wrong with him," Raph points out.

"Do we?"

"Uh, yeah." Raph nods. "Starvation... right?"

"Well, yes." Donnie drums his fingers on the table. "But... he's different, now. He's pretending he's not, and he's doing his normal Leo thing of joking and smiling, but... he is." Donnie scowls. "And I already asked Michael to confirm my suspicions, and he said so, too, so I know this isn't me overreacting!"

"Okay, okay!" Raph holds up his hands placatingly. "So you wanted to watch the footage to see what happened. What'd you find out?"

Donnie wilts, resting his chin on his knees. "I couldn't get further than the first twenty four hours."

Raph feels a foreboding chill run over his spine. "You couldn't... or you didn't want to?"

Donnie reaches over and presses a button. The footage shifts to a different angle, so now he can see the wall Leo was curled up against. Donnie runs the footage back at a fast speed, and Raph watches as Leo gets up a few times, disappearing into the blind spot of the camera, or going to grab water from a little slot by the door, until Donnie freezes on a new scene: the wall opening up to reveal a large window.

He leans forward, putting his hands on the desk. "Raph saw that - they were watching his cell through that."

"Yes. And he would sit in that spot," Donnie runs the footage forward a bit, to where Leo is sitting against the now white wall, "because it's in a blind spot to the window."

Raph grimaces. "He didn't want them watching him."

"But it didn't matter," says Donnie, and he reaches over and taps the button to go to a new angle... and again... and again. "They have every inch of the room covered."

Raph's heart sinks. "Does he know?"

"Leo's not dumb," says Donnie, a magnanimous statement coming from him. "He knew they had to be watching him with cameras."

"But he still tried to hide..."

"He was doing whatever he had to to feel better," concludes Donnie.

Raph sighs. "I wonder if it worked."

Donnie clicks another button, and the video player closes. He swivels his chair to face Raph, his eyes shiny again.

"I don't want to watch anymore," he admits.

Raph nods. "I wouldn't want to, either."

"No, I mean... because he was trying to hide." Donnie rubs at his eyes again. "Maybe it is a little ironic for me to be saying this, but... it feels like it would be a privacy violation."

Raph turns that over. Maybe knowing what happened to Leo could help them. But what Donnie is saying feels more important.

He puts his hand on Donnie's shoulder, the part that's bare past his battleshell, and gives it a rub. "You love him and you don't want to hurt him," he concludes.

Donnie sniffles again, and then uncurls himself, putting his legs down on the ground. He doesn't have to do more than that for Raph to catch on, and Raph scoops Donnie up into a hug that is quickly returned.

"...I keep hurting him," Donnie admits, resting his head on Raph's shoulder. "I don't know how, but it keeps happening."

"...Yeah, well, join the club," says Raph sadly. He pats at Donnie's back. "Raph can't seem to say the right thing, either."

Donnie laughs miserably. "I thought getting him back would be the hard part. And then everything would go back to normal."

"Yeah..." Raph gives him a tight squeeze. "But you know what April said?"

"What?"

"That we'll do the hard part, 'cause we love him."

"Well, April is the only other smart one in this family," says Donnie, and Raph gives him a noogie with no actual pressure.

"Everything will be okay," he says. "Raph promises."

That seems to calm Donnie down. Raph just hopes he can actually keep it.

-----

It's his first night back in his room, and for the first time since escaping, Leo can't sleep.

He doesn't know why he can't. The sheets are the same as always. The dim lights from outside his subway car filter in through the windows the same as they used to. He's wearing his favorite pajamas, which have pants and long sleeves. The temperature is warm but not too hot. Conditions are perfect.

But he can't sleep.

At first he thought maybe it's because he's alone for the first time, but he doesn't think it's that. In fact, the idea of going to one of his brothers or his dad makes him feel even more exhausted. He loves them and he loves being around them, but he's had to work hard all day to not seem too weird. He caught himself chewing his spoon at lunch and had to stop. He paced the kitchen until Draxum gave the okay for him to have a snack. Mikey poked his head in while he was changing shirts earlier and he froze up, deer in the headlights. In the end, he went to the bathroom to change, because at least there aren't windows in there.

He's being weird, and trying to not be weird is taking all his energy.

So no. He's okay being alone right now. But something is still bothering him.

It's not the bed; he slept in the motel just fine. It's not the temperature, because they're making sure the lair stays nice and warm for him. And it's not the clothes, because the clothes are covering him up. And it's not the windows because it's not even like anyone is looking through them.

Right?

It's only then that Leo realizes he keeps staring out of them.

He tears his eyes away to look at the ceiling, taking deep breaths. What is he worried about? So what if the train car is full of windows? Who would even be looking at him? It's just his family outside, and if they need to talk to him they'll come in.

Besides, the windows are see-through. If someone were looking at him, he'd be able to see them.

Just to reassure himself of that, Leo looks around at all the windows again.

Yep. Still see-through. So it's fine. It's really not a big deal! No one is going to look through the windows at him here. No one is watching him. He's safe, and if he weren't, he would know, because he can see.

...Maybe he could hide under his bed.

Leo gives his head a hard shake. No. He is not going to hide under his bed, because that would be weird, and Leonardo Hamato is not weird.

Maybe he can just... put up some curtains in his room. Just, purely for aesthetic reasons. Yeah, that would look really cool. He could get some blue ones with some kind of sick design. Add some real originality to this place.

And then he could cover the windows and no one could look in unless he wanted them to.

Not that anyone is looking in, because he's home and he's safe and he's okay and he really wants to hide under his bed-

He takes deep breaths. His eyes land on the posters on the wall of the train car.

Maybe... maybe they would look better over the windows. Just... aesthetically.

He moves the posters to the windows of the train car, pressing hard to get the old tape to stick. It covers the immediate windows around his bed, but there are still others, and they're more in the dark, so Leo can't see who might be out there.

Not that anyone would be.

But if someone were, he wouldn't be able to know.

So he grabs towels next, and t-shirts, and anything he has lying around his room, and puts them on the bed. Then he sneaks to the kitchen to find a roll of masking tape.

It's not easy, but after about an hour he's managed to cover every window in the train car with something.

Just... a preview. For how sweet the curtains are going to look. And not for any weird reasons, like being scared.

Because he's not scared. He's home, and he's safe, and no one is watching him from outside the windows.

He lays down in bed and surveys his handwork. The room is even darker now, with every window covered, completely different from the stark ever-present light in that place.

It makes him feel safe and hidden.

No one can look in, and he's shielded by the dark.

(He has no idea how he's going to explain this tomorrow.)

But when he finally shuts his eyes, he sleeps like a baby.

-----

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (here) | Part 4 Part A

[midnight-bay-if]

What would the ROs do if they woke up to find the mc had left the room to sleep like on the couch or something because they didn’t want to wake the ROs up with nightmares?

S: Their eyes flutter open, noticing the hand they rested on your waist now clutches the cold sheets where you once lay. They do not hesitate to search for you but are stricken by what they find. You, curled into a ball on the couch, whimpering in fear from whatever haunts your dreams. It's a familiar picture, and it pains them that you feel obligated to bear it alone when you have been so gracious with their own nightmares.

Without a word, S carefully manoeuvres themselves on the couch so their chest is pressed against your back. They slide one arm under your head while the other cradles your arm, intertwining your fingers in theirs. "Do not isolate yourself needlessly, darling," they whisper, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We are aware of one another's darkness, yet here we remain. Please, do not starve me of my strength."

Rain: Rain is a light sleeper, so the moment the mattress rises from the lack of weight, their eyes flutter open to find you perched on the edge, readying yourself to leave. Before you can move, however, Rain reaches out, laying their hand atop yours, tugging your attention.

"Can't sleep?" They ask with a bleary smile.

"Nightmare," you repeat wearily, "It's okay. Go back to sleep. I'm going to sleep on the couch."

Rain's brow furrows, their lips thinning into a displeased frown. "Please stay. I don't like sleeping alone, you know?" They lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand that they hold. "If you are concerned about your nightmares keeping me awake, you needn't be. When alone, I do not sleep at all. I finally rest when I am beside you. Stay."

Taj: It takes until the morning for Taj to realise you sneaked out of bed in the night. Expecting to gather you in their arms the moment their eyes open, they are disappointed to find your side of the bed long cold. Grousing, they drag themselves out of bed to go hunt for you. They find you already in the kitchen making a pot of coffee, dishevelled hair and dark circles under your eyes.

"Didn't sleep well?" Taj queries, a cold stare you recognise all too well. It's the look of being perceived.

You shrug, trying to play off what you know they have already seen. "Nightmare," you offer, a slither of the truth, "but I didn't want to disturb you, so I tried sleeping on the couch."

Taj snarls, closing the distance and wraps their arms around your waist, resting their chin on your shoulder. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend. I hate it." Their breath hitches. "I didn't even realise you were gone. I hate that, too. Wake me next time."

"You know you hate it when I wake you."

"Not if you're scared. Not if you need me."

N: N stretches their limbs, cursing the crick in their back as equally as the hard lumps in your mattress. They really must convince you to purchase something a little more luxurious. You'll thank them later. Their eyes flutter open, expecting to see you pressed closely to them, your rhythmic breathing lulling them sweetly back to sleep. But you are gone. Instinctively, they want to reach out with their mind to locate you, but they push it back down. Boundaries.

It's still dark, but N has no problem navigating it. The apartment is small, so figuring out where you have gone doesn't take a genius. Moments later, they find you curled into a ball, shivering and whimpering in your sleep. They tut, shaking their heads.

"I really wish you would ask for help, my dear," they whisper to themselves, kneeling until they are level with you. They press a hand to your forehead, allowing some of their warmth to seep into your skin. "Allow me to lay to rest whatever is troubling you inside that noggin' of yours, love, or at least let me stand beside you. Do not hide from me."

Umbra: Usually, Umbra spends their nights curled up at your window or lying beside you, guarding your sleep against those who might impose. It mostly depends on you. They like watching you fall asleep pressed against them because sometimes, on occasion, they allow their own eyes to shut. They do not need to, but being with you inspires hopes of ordinary domesticity; it reminds them to live.

But it never lasts long. The moment you shift in your sleep, and the fidgeting and the whimpering starts, Umbra is awake and alert. They once asked S what they might do to help in such a situation, but there is no magic cure, just reassurance. "I am here," they whisper, unsure if you can hear. "You are safe. You are safe." The words are a safety net they sometimes question whether they know how to wield.

You wake with a start, shoving yourself to the other side of the bed, chest heaving and hands shaking. You stare at Umbra, eyes wide, fear gripping your throat. "I'm sorry. Did I disturb you?"

"No," Umbra replies simply. "You never could."

"Would you prefer me to sleep elsewhere?"

"Why would I prefer that?" They query, cocking their head to one side. "I cannot protect you if you are anywhere else."

(Hopefully this was okay!)

[bubblessunshinehoney]

BIG FAN

Chapter 7: the morning after...

not beta read, english is not my first language. all mistakes are my own

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tw: SMUT, this part is just that...pwp, pinv,...just SMUT (unprotected, so wrap it before you tap it, but they've discussed it even though it's not in the fic)

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serie masterlist

part1 | part2 | part3 | part4 | part5 | part6 | part7

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Enjoy, Cloudy

You wake feeling a light touch on your back, you hummed happily, nuzzling into it. A little sleepy gasp came out of your mouth when you felt lips on your legs, you tried to move but a little tut sound made you stop.

"It's me dolly, let me take care of you", said Bucky with a sleepy gravelly voice.

You hummed more, relaxing under his ministrations. He took his time, kissing every part of your body, caressing every inch of skin. He was warm and you couldn’t stop smiling. You kept your eyes closed, like he asked you too, after four attempts on your side to open them. You wanted to see him, but he wanted you to feel him.

“you’re so soft, your skin is like silk”, he murmured on your neck.

You let out a heavy needy sigh and he smiles in the nape of your neck.

“Good morning, my angel”, he whispered.

You turned in the direction of his voice, and still eyes closed “good morning, man-(h)eater”, you nuzzled onto his chest, seeking his warmth, breathing him in. He held you close, before rolling so you’re under him.

“open your eyes, please”, he asked softly, you blinked slowly and you met the bluest eyes ever. The morning light bringing the colour even brighter. The tenderness you saw in them, made your heart fluttered happily. Your stomach growled and Bucky was quick to sat up.

“I’ll make you breakfast”, he jumped out of bed, put some boxers on and he was out. You blinked before laughing uncontrollably. Bucky came back with a worried face.

“What’s so funny?”

“You”

“me?”

“Yeah, you kiss all over me for maybe an hour, then you jumped off like a scared cat”.

“but you stomach made some noise, you must be hungry”.

“You’re too adorable…I am hungry, I just thought I would have some more cuddles before getting up”.

“Sorry.”

You got up and walked towards him. “Don’t be, it was very adorable to see you ran to the kitchen to make me food”. He looked unsure and shy suddenly. “What is it James?”

To hear his name again eased the anxiety that was building up inside him. “I’m…well…” you encouraged him with your special smile. “Ma’ raised me to treat my girl right. And she loved breakfast…and I used to cook it for her every Sunday…just tought that…I could do the same for you. I don’t know”

You passed your arms around his neck, his hands securing your waist since you had to get on your tiptoe. “Well, I think you know more than you think, James. And I think you’re treating me more than right.” You kissed his chin. “but I could still help with breakfast?”

“Only to tell me where you store all of your ingredients, the rest I’ll do it.”

With a smile, he carried you to the kitchen and sat you on a chair. Then you pointed at the cupboard and other place where he could find what he needed. You liked to see him here, so carefree. You saw that he felt more secure and comfortable again. Making jokes, telling you more about his ma’, his sister and his time back in the 40s. You were happy to hear it all, thinking that he must really trust you to tell you all that. And if you were honest, you couldn’t keep your eyes of him, wearing only an apron and his boxers, the muscle on his back on full display for you to admire…to drool over.

And honestly, you were still aching from all the kisses you received, you thought that it would have led to some slow morning sex with him. Your nipples were hard and seemed to want to stay like this. Your heart was still beating faster than normal, from how horny you were now.

But when Bucky brought food and tea onto the table and kept talking to you with the most genuine smile and happiness, you put your horniness on the side and talked with him about everything and anything.

But even after having eaten, your mind was still in the gutter. You wanted to rip that apron of him and ride him while he was sitting on the chair.

“Y/N?”, you looked up at him, realising you were focused on his stomach. “Are you alright?” he looked so concerned that you wanted to kiss him silly. Since you were not answering and by the way you were looking at him, Bucky started to feel hot and bother. He did see the way your nipples were still perked under your shirt. He did hear your heartbeat, but it was the fire in your eyes that was making him feel tight in his brief.

As if you had super vision too, you got up and straddled him, but when you gasped quietly, he realised you weren’t expecting him to have a hard on. You both sat still for a solid minute. You were clenching around nothing, and he throbbed, feeling the hotness of your mound. Slowly you took off the apron, covering him in goosebumps when your fingers traced patterns on his chest. His abs contracted when you rested your hands there.

Slowly he raised his right hand and cupped your boob, caressing your nipple with his thumb, in response to it, you dug your nails softly into his flesh.

“I thought you were gonna make love to me this morning.” You whispered. His left hand held the small of your back and brought you closer to him, his right hand still holding the side of your boob and his thumb not leaving your nipple. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself. “I wanted your kiss to…lead to some…sex”.

“it’s still the morning”, he said quietly.

“But it’s not the same when you just wake up.” He nodded, like if he was taking notes. He didn’t move more, he kept you in place and you were starting to think he would let you like this, even though you could feel that he was hard.

“How would you have wanted to have sex when you woke up?”, he asked lowering his left hand.

“Slow”, you replied breathless.

“Are you disappointed it didn’t happen?”. You were beyond needy by now. He had a certain tone in his voice, making no place for control on your side. He was leading this, and you were desperate for it.

“A little”, you answered in a quiet voice, feeling submissive.

“What about…” he’s right hand went to your waist, “we take off your panties and sit you on my cock…slowly”. There’s no room for questioning but you saw in his eyes that you had the final choice. You nodded. “Words, dollface”.

“Yes, please.” With ease he hoisted you on the table and slid off your panties, next he pulled down his boxers just enough for his cock to spun free. He kissed your legs, looking directly into your eyes. Your hands were still on his shoulders, and you held them tighter, he smiled, before holding you down again. His cock resting on your pelvis. This morning, it appeared bigger than last night, or maybe you felt tinier with how much power he had over you right now.

He was doming you with softness in all his hardness.

Shyly, you rocked your hips, the smirk he gave you made you rocked faster against him. But before you could feel any relief, he stopped you. You whined.

“Slow.” He commended. You plead with your eyes. “You want it, already?”, he smoothed little circles on your hips. “Yes, please, Jamie.” He hummed and held you up just enough to wet his cock with your arousal. “Doll…”, he groaned.

It only made you gush more, clenching around nothing, desperate for him. With gentleness he lowered you on his cock. The head disappeared and he stayed like this, holding you entirely. It’s like you were light as a feather, he didn’t seem bother to hold you up, not a sweat, not a sign on his face that you were heavy, and your legs were dangling in the air. And like in slow-motion, he eased you down on him, you felt every ridge of his cock, nestling its way inside you. Once you were sitting on his lap, your body trembling from the fullness you were feeling, Bucky kissed your nose. You blinked twice and looked at him. He smiled innocently.

“you’re in charge now”. You huffed, before wiggling to be able to have the tip of your big toes touching the ground and you started to rock and rolled your hips slowly. Bucky had his hands on your hips, but he wasn’t moving or helping you move. Your hands went to his hair and neck, having your elbow on his chest to give you some support. You were focused on where you were joined with him, all your muscled tensed, breath shallow and your clit was throbbing with need. It felt atrociously divine.

“look at me”, you did as told. “good girl”, he groaned. You whimpered and clenched at the praise. As if on cue, his hands start to help you move, his left hand went up to hold the back of your head, bringing you so close to him, that you were breathing the same air. He smelled like coffee and French toast. He kissed your jaw next, finding your sweet spot, making you flatter in your pace. His right hand was quick to give you the right tempo, by moving your hip, and settling on your back. All of it felt amazing, but your clit was screaming for the neglection it was enduring.

“FUCK” you shouted, cumming hard. But he didn’t stop rolling your clit under his pad, didn’t stop you from moving faster now, didn’t stop you from kissing him sloppily, didn’t hiss when you tug and dug your nails in his flesh, no…he moaned holding you tighter, fucking into you in time with your rolling, kissing you, sucking on your lips, praising you…

“Jamie…please…” was all you could say. As if he was able to read your mind, he secured your arms around his neck and his left hand went to your back, while the right one slowly came to your front. You shook in anticipation. Now, Bucky was giving the tempo, making sure you were rocking and rolling your hips. His flesh fingers ran under your shirt, down to your clit and when his thumb touch it you saw stars.

“Such a good girl, you’re mine, aren’t you? Drunk on my cock, my good girl, doing as I tell her.”

How in the world this man was having this mouth this morning. He kept his game well hidden…and you loved it.

A second orgasm took hold of you, and you clenched hard around him. You didn’t know how it was possible, how he made you cum so much…never one of your exes had made you cum more than once, if they succeeded, and you weren’t faking.

As if you weren’t choking his dick, Bucky got up, while kissing you. He walked to the nearest wall and pushed you against it. “Hold on tight”, with the little strength you had left, you wrapped your arms and legs tightly around him and he fucked you, deeply but ever so slowly you were shaking from pleasure. He rested his forehead on yours, rolling his hips right onto your spot and you moaned. “Right here, uh? My sweet doll”, you nodded eagerly, and he kept doing just that.

Panting, moaning, kissing, it was the only sound other than the squelching sound of your skins. “One more for me baby?” you sighed happily when you realised you were about to come again. “one more for you, Jamie”.

“Good girl”, he played with your clit again. “cum with me?”, you hummed your agreement and with a flicker of his thumb and one last thrust, you both came hard.

When you opened your eyes, you were back on your bed, a smiling Bucky beside you. He looked so innocent like that.

“Did I pass out?”

“No, well…not completely, you were babbling for a good 20 minutes when I help you clean up before bringing you back here, then you slept.” He said almost sheepishly.

“You’re unbelievable…all dom like an hour ago and now…you look like an innocent boy.” He shrugged with a blush, and you kissed him. “You’re unreal, mister. But damn I love this side of you. Taking control…playing with me…” you hummed when he massaged your back gently”.

“Yeah?” he asked softly. You nodded and played with his hair.

“Well, I like to fuck you stupid.”, he added with the biggest angelic smile.

[blood-red-ocean]

can I request Mother Miranda next? i have this silly idea where MM's crow(s) has a habit of stashing all kind of shiny things near reader's house. Maybe she has a small porch that's not been used cause reader doesn't have time lounging around, and the sneaky crow is, like, yeah, this is perfect, and so reader goes about her life non the wiser to crow's shenanigans behind her back until one day she hears some sound outside and goes to investigate which ends with her stumbling upon MM rummaging through pile of... something. Awkward silence.

I don't know why I saw reader's house and immediately went 'ah yes, they live with Miranda' but ANYWAY enjoy <3

Small Thief (RL!Miranda x Reader)

Word count: 1.9k Warnings: None Summary: Cornelius is a sneaky lil gremlin.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Babe? Have you seen my keys?”

Overturned couch cushions and the contents of upturned cabinet drawers laid in the wake of your frantic rummaging. The very thought of having lost a set of keys to the headmistress’s house scared you enough, but it would be even worse if you had not simply misplaced them and had dropped them somewhere on the Campus. Especially with Mia’s habit of being an absolute gremlin and showing up unexpectedly in places she wasn’t supposed to be.

“Hmm?” Miranda strode into the room, hand fiddling with the button on the other wrist of her shirt.

“My keys, babe, my keys. I need them.”

You knew what was coming immediately. You knew it so well that you could almost quote her word for word. “Now, what did I tell you about carelessly tossing your keys down, little crow?” She and you both knew that if she had spoken those words to anybody else, it would have seen as harsh chastising. But you knew her better than that, and you could easily pick up on the way her mouth quirked up at the corners. The Miranda version of a playful grin.

“Forget about your keys, darling mine,” She said, striding over to you to kiss your cheek. “I will be awake when you return, I’ll let you in.”

“Andy, you know I’ve got class till late tonight.” Miranda smiled a little more visibly at the nickname you had picked for her – Devil Wears Prada had quickly become her favourite movie to watch with you, and she didn’t hide her blush fast enough when you called her it playfully for the first time while playfully testing out different variations of her name. Mir, Mira, Andy… “Professor Dimitrescu is making us recreate a classical piece in our own style.”

“That’s… Out of character.” Miranda frowned a little. “Very well then. I’ll still let you in.”

“But—”

“I’ll be awake.” Miranda gave you a pointed look, and it hit you then. Of course she would be awake – without you around to help with the growing pile of student council paperwork, full of requests and grievances that were above even Bela’s station, she would no doubt spend considerable time poring over them, with Cornelius on her shoulder. She often turned to work when you weren’t around.

“Okay, fine,” You said. You reached up and caressed her cheek, a playful smirk growing on your face. “Just don’t drool on the papers when you fall asleep this time, okay?” This earned you a tut from Miranda.

Hours later, and back aching from spending hours at an easel, you trudged into Miranda’s – you and Miranda’s – house, dropping your bag at your feet. You leaned back against the door and groaned, rolling your shoulders slowly to relieve some of the tension. The smell of pizza wafted down the hallway and into your nostrils, stomach growling angrily. “Oh, fuck yes,” you breathed, following the scent like a cartoon character. There, on the kitchen counter, laid an open box of your favourite pizza, and a note beside it which stated, in Miranda’s elegant cursive, “I am in my office. Come find me when you have eaten, little crow.”

Pizza slice in hand, you navigated the house, making your way to her study. The door was propped slightly open, and a gentle push on it made it swing forward, revealing Miranda bent over her home desk as she pored over some paperwork.

“Pizza?” You asked, holding a piece out.

Miranda crinkled her nose a little and shook her head. “Not tonight, Feather. I don’t think I have the stomach for it right now.” She tapped her fingers on the top of the desk as she sat back, peering at you with concern. “Are you alright? You seem exhausted.”

“Because I am,” You mumbled around a mouthful of cheese, sauce and dough. “Dimitrescu made me restart my piece three times. Three times! All because I mixed the pigment slightly wrong.” Miranda kept tapping her fingers one by one, the familiar sound almost mesmerizing you – almost.

Click, click, thud, click. Click, click, thud, click.

One of her golden finger guards was missing, the soft thud of her bare finger hitting the wooden surface jarring against the clicking you were used to. “Hey,” You spoke up, frowning. “Where’s your guard?”

Miranda shifted uncomfortably, hesitating. “I have no idea,” She eventually admitted. “I removed all of them earlier to take a bath, and when I turned back, one was missing.”

“Ah, so the great Miranda doesn’t have eyes in the back of her head after all.” Miranda shot you a playful glare, affection vaguely hidden beneath. “I’m sure it’ll show up somewhere.”

“It is rather… Concerning, that things keep going missing around here. I’m not usually this… Disorganized.”

“You aren’t disorganized at all,” You reassured her, licking the grease from your fingers. “Maybe we have a ghost.”

Miranda rolled her eyes lightheartedly at that, returning to her work. You grabbed your books and papers, settling in on the couch opposite her desk to study. Yeah, you were exhausted, but you still had other classes to study for, and not even being romantically bound to the headmistress would give you endless exceptions when it came to your studies.

***

Weeks passed, hours and hours of late classes beginning to make you feel burned out. You spent the days counting down to when it was finally done and you could spend your time with Miranda again – and quicker than you thought, it was over. You left Professor Dimitrescu’s class with a heavy wooden frame in hand, a begrudging A+ grade, and a sense of smug accomplishment. You couldn’t wait to get home and tell Miranda all about how Alcina had squirmed, heaving sighs and muttering as she scribbled an A+ onto the piece of paper before her.

Upon arriving at home, however, Miranda was nowhere to be found. Propping the frame up against the wall, you dug your phone from your pocket and checked it – no texts, no missed calls. Venturing deeper into the house, you peered into Miranda’s study to see it empty and dark. Brow furrowed, you ventured even further into the house. It was unlike Miranda to not tell you where she was – or rather, command that you go and be at her side.

“Andy?” You called out. You peered into darkened rooms, intrigue growing as you saw parts of the house you hadn’t seen before. Between the rush of moving you in with her, and exam season, and Alcina’s late classes, you had barely had time to spend sitting quietly with your avian goddess, let alone explore the depths of the house.

Just as you were about to give up and try and call Miranda, a crashing sound came from the very back of the house. Pulse rushing in your ears, you immediately jumped to alertness, searching for something to wield as a makeshift weapon. Eventually settling on a discarded iron poker, you held it aloft as you took slow steps towards the crashing sounds. You eventually came upon a glass door, a faint glow emanating from behind it. With one hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath and threw the door open, roaring.

“RAAAAAAARGH—Andy??”

Once the frantic flurrying of wings and dark feathers and Miranda’s cursing had died down, you could get a proper look at the small room you had entered. It was covered in screens rather than windows, and it took you a moment to realise it was a porch.

A porch filled with heaping miles of miscellanea, remarkably less organized than the rest of the house. Miranda stood in the midst of it all, her face flushed and scowling… At Cornelius. Eyebrows raised, you glanced between the two of them, taking a step back. Cornelius let out a rather loud, indignant caw, wings lifted at Miranda.

“You! She hissed, pointing her finger accusingly. “I knew it!”

A glint in the corner of your vision caught your eye, and at a single glance you heaved with relief.

“My keys,” You breathed. “Thank the gods—” You reached out to pick them up, and the fluttering of wings signaled Cornelius’s arrival. He stood with one foot on them, staring up at you with one burning yellow eye. It hit you then that this wasn’t some secret that Miranda kept, some uncharacteristic habit – no, Cornelius had been periodically stealing more and more items over the weeks, stashing him where he thought nobody would find them. You reached out again to try and take the keys, but he just cawed softly at you, clicking his beak.

“Hey, what—”

“You have to give him something else,” Miranda grumbled, sifting through the heaps of shiny objects. “I learned that the hard way.” She tapped her earlobe, and you noticed that one of her dangly gold earrings was missing, no doubt wherever Cornelius had stashed it again. On her finger was the golden finger guard, back where it belonged.

“Well, I don’t have anything shiny,” You spoke to the small thief. “But… You want my A+?” You held out the piece of paper with the grade and Alcina’s comments on it, and Cornelius studied it for a moment. With a quick chirp, he grabbed it from your hand and flew off to the back corner of the porch, no doubt to stash it somewhere safe. Miranda watched him with her mouth agape and threw her hands up in exasperation, calling after him, “Seriously? I feed you! I raised you from a baby! And they can give you paper?” Miranda took a breath as if to continue, then stopped, turning to you with raised eyebrows. “Did you say A+?”

Grinning, you nodded quickly. “Yep! Can we get pizza to celebrate?”

“Again, Feather? Aren’t you tired of it yet? I could order you something much nicer—”

“Nope, pizza,” You called out, moving back into the hallway of the house. Miranda followed you, pride in her eyes.

“Very well, then,” She sighed in mock exasperation. “But first, show me your work.”

There was a skip in your step as you led Miranda by the hand back to the entryway, where you had placed the painting. You held it up to her and watched as her eyes conveyed her emotions – surprise, awe, pride and then, as she gazed back up at you, love. “It’s beautiful,” She murmured. “We must display it at once.”

You followed her as she went to the kitchen, opening a cabinet and pulling out a small golden hook, and a nail. She hummed as she roamed the house, trying to figure out where the hang your artwork, and you blushed about it. Eventually, she settled for hanging it above her desk in her study, this simple gesture making your heart skip a beat, reminding you again her how she loved and prioritized you. She reached up, preparing to nail the hook into the wall, when a dark blur rushed by and left her hands empty. She growled a little under her breath and chased after it, leaving you in fits of giggling as she went.

“Cornelius! Get back here with that!”

To nobody’s surprise (but to Miranda’s chagrin), it only took the promise of some head scratches from you to get the hook back from the small thief. You could’ve sworn he gave an approving caw at the sight of your painting, as well.

[silverskye13]

small, zero pressure nudge (feel free to ignore/delete), are you still working on the 'guish and helsknight fake dating ficlet?

Deepest apologies dear heart I'm not working on anything right now. But you can have a snippet of what I got done previously if you like:

"You want to order me an outfit?" Tanguish asked, bemused. "Are you... Sure?"

"Were you planning on pulling a new dress suit out of nowhere?" Helsknight asked matter-of-factly, ushering in a rather stuffy looking tailor. They immediately opened a bag they'd been carrying and started pulling out supplies: measuring tape, types of fabric and color swatches.

"Well... No."

"Then we'll get one made." Helsknight shrugged. "I have to get one done anyway. Might as well take your measurements at the same time."

Tanguish squinted at the knight suspiciously. Helsknight hadn't said anything about getting himself an outfit made, and he knew the knight's utilitarian nature. If he could get away with wearing one he already owned, he would have.

"You scared I'll embarrass you by picking out something you don't like?" Tanguish asked, trying not to sound betrayed. "Ruin your networking."

Helsknight surprised him by laughing. "I'm the Champion, Tanguish. I'm not networking with anyone. They're networking with me. But, no, I don't think you would pick out something embarrassing."

Tanguish glanced at the tailor, who he thought was doing a great job at pretending to still be busy. "Uhm... Why all this then?"

"You wanted the once-in-a-lifetime gala experience, didn't you?"

"I wanted to see the fancy party and eat the fancy food."

The tailor hid an amused snort, and dug for more fabric that probably didn't exist in their bag.

"This is part of the fancy party experience," Helsknight smirked.

"But... I can't pay you back for this," Tanguish said, dropping his voice a little lower in embarrassment. "I mean -- this is a lot. This is going to be a lot."

Helsknight waved a dismissive hand, "It's all on the Colosseum's diamonds. Don't worry about it. And like I said, I would need a new outfit made anyway. So." Helsknight shooed Tanguish over to the tailor. "Get measured."

Tanguish managed one last chagrined look at Helsknight before the tailor sprung into action, taking Tanguish's measurements in a flurry of profession movements. Everything from his height, to the length of his legs and tail, to the spaces between the spines on his back were committed to numbers, all while the tailor made little grumbling noises that Tanguish didn't quite think were judgemental, but certainly sounded like they were. Then Tanguish was shooed to the swatches of colors and sample fabrics, and the tailor did more mutterings. Tanguish only caught the bits and pieces.

"Dark complexion..." "Should really emphasize the skulk lights..." "Maybe a fabric with some shimmer..." "Add a little contrast..."

It took the tailor asked him twice if he was allergic to any metals (Tanguish honestly had no idea) and tutted disapprovingly when an inspection revealed Tanguish didn't have any piercings to speak of.

"You will be hard to accessorize," they sniffed, giving Tanguish a critical look over. "Your skin is already very busy."

"Uhm... busy...?"

"The dots, the little lights. It's like trying to accessorize freckles."

"Ah," Tanguish felt his stomach twist. "I'm sorry."

The tailor frowned up at Helsknight, "Why is he apologizing to me? Can he wash them off?"

"No."

"Then why with the apologizing?" the tailor sniffed haughtily. "You are giving me a good challenge and I will rise to the occasion. Hold the satin up to you I want to see if it will catch the light."

Tanguish did as he was told, holding different colors and cloth against his skin. The tailor chattered as they worked, and sometimes made notes in a little book they carried. Tanguish was relieved when, after about an hour, they moved on to Helsknight. They took his measurements down ("Always you are growing, knight. And these scars on your knuckles -- how am I supposed to dress them up? I should give you a wolf skin and make you look like the barbarian you are. I will speak with someone about concealer for you do not let it rub off on my clothes.")

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A Female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Forty Nine)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and is all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Forty Nine: Arriving home from the IFTAs, Cillian needs to ensure he hasn't spoken up when he shouldn't. All Y/N wants to ensure is that she gets what she was promised. [Sexual scenes]

@cherrycilly @whatcjdidnext @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @watermeezer @meadowshelby @lavender-haze-01 @strangeions @borntodiemp3

Cillian unlocks the front door under the glow of the reactive light above it, and pushes it open with a grunt as it sticks in the cold. He ambles inside, holding the door as you follow, and locks it again quickly behind you. You disable and reset the alarm before you shrug off your coat, laying it over the banister, and sit down awkwardly against the stairs to remove your boots. “These things are so different when you're not half out of your mind on free champagne,” you laugh, sighing as you finally get both boots off your feet. You grip the banister to support you as you stand back up. “Don't you think?”

Cillian smirks at your comment, toeing off his shoes. He had had a drink or two, but wasn't even approaching tipsy in solidarity of your complete lack of alcoholic consumption. Award in hand, he stands before you with a smile. “I didn't upset you?” He asks. He'd asked you already but you can see he both had planned his speech and spoke off the cuff, and he needs as much reassurance as you do.

“No, love. It was beautiful to hear you speak that way.” You reassure him. “A well deserved award, and a well delivered speech, and so much heart in your words. I am not upset, not at all.” He smiles before he slowly walks away, setting the trophy against the kitchen counter before he turns on the lights. “I'm proud of you all,” you say, following behind him. “Really proud of you - for all your hard work, for being so vulnerable there tonight, and so public. You didn't have to do that, I didn't expect you to do it or need you to do it, but it means so, so much that you did.”

“I mean, from the horse's mouth is better than bullshit stories like that one that had us talking to the boys and Yvonne before we were ready. And I was scared of all this, you know that. I don't want you, or me, or the boys and Yvonne, or that little baby dragged through the absolute wank articles.” He sighs, “And I want to be in control of it, for it to come directly from us.”

“And Eileen knew?” You smile. You fold yourself against him as he stands still in the middle of the kitchen. His arms instantly lock around you. He smells lovely, and the warmth of his body beneath his shirt is familiar and comfortable.

He laughs a little and you can feel it vibrate through his ribs. “I mentioned it to her there when I told them about the baby. I said I wanted to do something about the news coming from us and not just appear online, you know? There'll be people we didn't tell but meant to, and at least this way it was intentionally that way.” he sighs and rests his chin against the top of your head. “It wasn't the wrong thing though, you're sure it was okay?”

You tut and raise your head from his chest, “Love, I've told you. Accept it. It was a beautiful speech, and it couldn't have come out any more beautiful if you'd tried.” You rest the palm of your hand in the centre of his chest, and smile softly. “Although…” you try to hold off sniggering as his face suddenly looks concerned. “You still owe me.”

He frowns, “Owe you what?” The softness of the T is heavily accentuated as his nervousness at your next words builds.

“Well, you promised me you'd repay me.” You raise your eyebrows. “And as the transactionary advisor for my vagina….it's time to pay up.*

He scoffs, both in relief and in a cringe, then moves his face closer to yours to place a kiss against your smiling lips. As he draws back his face, his left eyebrow is crooked high and his left cheek is dimpled in as he smirks. “We’d better head to my office and come to an arrangement, so.” His voice is lower suddenly, seductive and arousal-filled, and he moves his face closer to yours once again, kissing you softly, lovingly, before he alters his position a little and begins applying more fervent pressure. His hands move from your back and he plants both palms against your cheeks as his tongue gently runs across your bottom lip. All you can do is keep yourself steady by pushing your hands against his chest, as it takes very little time for your legs to begin to feel light and airy. He breathes heavily as he rests his forehead to yours but breaks the kiss. “Sofa?”

You smile, bending and flexing your fingers against the material of his shirt. “Against the fucking wall for all I care!” You laugh breathily, and you can feel a quickening in the beat of his heart. Perhaps in days gone by he would have pinned you to the wall, or at least had you lean against it whilst he took you from behind; manys a dalliance had been enjoyed on the stairs in the first few months in the house, and even the kitchen island had been treated to the cheeks of your arse whilst Cillian had knelt before you and eaten you out with great pleasure. But your body was far from able to support yourself that way now, and you suspected that the intensity of Cillian's reactions recently would knock his strength from him for anything upright.

He drops his hands from your cheeks and takes hold of your left hand with his right. He drags you, though you're more than willing, back through the house and towards the sofa. You're not sure what he's planning, though, when he lets you go and drops down onto the couch with a flop. Standing before him, you raise your eyebrows. “C’mere.” He quirks his head to the side and holds his hand out again, beckoning you over with a bend of his fingers. “C’mon.” He presses, brows high, as you look back at him. He brings his parted knees closer together and you understand the request. Moving awkwardly, and taking his hand, you place your right knee against the sofa cushions to the side of his thigh, then straddle across his legs, pushing your left knee down beside his opposite thigh. You stay pushed up for a moment and let go of his hand, and soon as you do he reaches out both hands towards you. He starts high, cupping his hands around your still-growing breasts over the material of your blouse. They still feel a little tender when groped at, but he is gentle even as he massages their new weight in his hands. Then he slides his hands down your sides, stopping at your hips. His tongue is swiping slowly back and forth across his bottom lip, his left eyebrow raised alone, and he pushes a little against the curved, cushioned shapes of your hips, insisting silently that you park yourself against his waiting lap.

Oddly, you find a massive amount of pressure relief off your hips in the spread position and that comfort translates across your whole body as you relax your whole spine. You reach out your arms and place your hands on either side of Cillian's face. Without rising, but simply arching forwards, you capture his mouth for a deep and a dirty kiss, pushing your tongue in immediately. His hands move back from your hips and travel along your arse, pushing in under the material of your trousers but sitting on top of your knickers. He rocks your bottom half forwards slightly with the pressure he applies, and your vulva brushes over the firm bulge at the crotch of his trousers. Your tongue laps further in his mouth, and you move your hands from his face, sneaking your left hand up into his hair whilst your right hand moves slowly along his neck until your fingers meet those growing curls at the nape. You rock your hips against him, teasing both of your bodies through your clothes, and spontaneously tug your hand against the top of his head through his hair slightly. He gasps into your mouth, a soft and breathy moan, and you inch your face back just slightly - not sure if it's one of enjoyment, or he isn't feeling it. His eyes are heavily lidded, and he looks up at you with a drunken smile.

He doesn't say a word as he pulls his hands from your trousers, sits forwards a little, and reaches up to the braces over your shoulders, pawing at them with heavily, uncoordinated hands. You allow him to pull them down your arms, and twist your elbows to let them drop down at the sides. Once they're off, he moves for the buttons of your blouse and begins thumbing them open. He drags the ends of your blouse from your trousers hurriedly, getting needier, and roughly pops open the remaining buttons so he can pull the blouse from your arms. Dragging it down, he throws it aside. He reaches around your back and makes light work of the hooks of your bra for once. The weight of your breasts aches a little as the support is removed, but as he throws the bra down, he instantly cups his hands around your bust. He pushes his face further forwards and plants kisses across your collarbone as his hands massage your boobs gently, then brings his mouth lower, softly placing wet-lipped kisses across the top of your breasts. He moves his head a little, craning sideways, and gently graces his tongue across your right areola, bringing your pink nipple to immediate attention. He repeats the action on your left breast and you run your hands through his hair, your mouth wide open, as his tongue alone makes your body tremble. He moves his hands down your body, holding you around your waist, and moves his kisses back up along the left side of your neck, and up along your jaw. He captures your mouth once again, his pillowy lips pushing hard to yours as his arms drag your body closer to his. His erection is firm against the inside of your leg as he rocks you close, and you're not sure if he's deliberately taking this slow and making it mind-blowing, or if he'll eventually reach a point where he's tortured himself enough and begins to quicken the pace. Either way, you're fucking enthralled.

You push your hands along his shoulders, under his blazer, and force it awkwardly down his arms. He stays sitting forwards to allow you to push it down, and takes his hands from your body to remove it completely. You work on loosening his tie as he takes off the blazer, and pull it off over his head once there's enough give. He flops back into the sofa and cups his hands around your arse, over your trousers, as you unbutton his shirt with a lot more grace than he had yours. You drag the tails of his shirt from his loose-at-the-waist trousers and unfasten the final buttons. He begrudgingly draws his hands form your bum as you push the shirt down, and he isn't slow about pulling it off entirely. You place both of your hands onto his chest, running your fingers through the smattering of hair. You smooth your hands up and across his shoulders, tapping your fingers against the freckles that your digits meet, then bring your hands back down across his chest. His small nipples are already darkened and engorged, and he hisses slightly as your fingers brush over them on their journey down his body. You reach his waist and fiddle for the clasp fastening at the front, swiftly unhooking it before you pull down the zip slowly. With his trousers opened, you're treated to the thin trail of hair from his belly button that disappears into the waistband of his boxershorts. The material of his underwear is pinning his occasionally twitching cock against the left side of his thigh and you know you'll have to have him remove everything to free it, but you don't want to move from this position at all. You feel powerful, insanely turned on, and breaking apart to remove your remaining clothes will ruin it. But, no access to the penis is disappointing! You move your head closer to his and kiss his mouth softly, “Take them off,” you whisper, and then awkwardly climb from his lap so that you can remove your own trousers and knickers.

He doesn't need asking twice. By just lifting his hips, although a little awkward, he drags his trousers and boxershorts down to his thighs, then sits back against the sofa before he pulls them off his legs entirely. He drags his socks off at the same time, and leaves everything in a messy pile on the floor. He watches you stepping out of your clothes, eyes running over your body, and you hope that his thoughts are sexual ones and not that your rounded belly makes you look less appealing to him. Naked, you reassume your position across his thighs. It's once again a powerful position. You place your hands against his shoulders as you walk higher along the sofa with your knees, then sit just a little way back from his genitals. His hard cock his twitching back towards his happy trail intermittently, and the tightness of his foreskin over the half-exposed head beneath gives away the intensity of his erection - hard, leaking, and jumping as you bring your breasts in line with his face before lowering fully against his thighs - knowing he wants you so much is powerful, too. You steal yourself another kiss, and his hands go straight to the cheeks of your arse as your lips press to his. He grunts and huffs breaths through his nose, and each noisy kiss makes your vulva pulse. You push your right hand between your bodies with no sensuality or warning, and wrap your fingers around his cock. His mouth opens against yours, and he gasps against your tongue. You begin to move your wrist, slow and teasing strokes that don't even completely free the head of his penis, and hope to God you're not hurting him with the action. You keep your hand moving and his fingers knead your cheeks deeply.

“Fuck…” he groans, his head dropping back onto the sofa, as you move your hand in quick, short strokes around the base of the head of his penis. “...fuck…” he bites against his bottom lip and you complete your assault by abruptly stopping. He groans noisily, and you chuckle lightly in your throat. “That's mean,” he croaks, slowly lifting his head. His cheeks are bright red and his pupils are blown. He moves his hands slowly up and down your back. You push up onto your knees and his hands glide back down against your backside. You reach your right hand down again and wrap your fingers around the length of his cock. It fits comfortably within your four curled fingers and palm, and you wrap your thumb around as much of the sizable thickness as you can. It isn't exactly a sexy move, lining yourselves up, but you love the feel of his hot, hard flesh in your hand as you slowly lower your body. You let go when the still half-hooded head of his penis meets the opening of your vagina, and slowly sink down onto his full length, locking your body back down comfortably right against the base of his cock. Your mouth falls open at the delightful intrusion, and he gasps as your body enclosed his, his hands immediately pulling your hips forwards. “Ah, fuck…” he hisses, rocking you back and forth with his hands in time with the pace you're setting yourself. This position is always the most intense for you, hitting everything you need it to very intensely from the get go, but you know Cillian likes it too. He likes you above him, on him, and the depth he achieves with your weight against him - but he also seems to like you taking charge in this way.

You lace your left hand around the back of Cillian's neck and onto the sweat-damp curls. With your right hand, you push against his chest to give yourself a little support as you concentrate hard on yourself - on achieving what you need - and rock your hips at the pace you want. “Shit…oh…shit…” though you've no intention of stopping yet, you feel your clitoral orgasm building swiftly. Your fingers fall from his hair and dig in against his shoulder. You roll your hips with more pressure, forcing him impossible deeper, grazing your clitoris against his body, and gasp your way through a shuddering wave as your orgasm hits. “Fuck…Cill…” you slow your movements as your orgasm wains, but you don't stop. His hands against your arse keep you going as you ride out the high. You lower your body closer to his, pulling his face against your shoulder, and change your movements slowly. Gone is the winding of your hips, and instead you begin to rise and fall against his cock, riding him slowly. His hands shift up your back, and you keep your forearms on his shoulders to give you purchase for your movements. Each rise brings his face closer to your breasts and the feeling of his breath on your skin ignites goosebumps galore. Each sink down over his twitching cock brings your entire body closer to his, making everything feel more intense as the head of his penis slides against your g-spot. He continues to huff breaths against your body, and rests his forehead for a moment against your shoulder as you continue to move. His mouth draws open and he groans, and as he closes his mouth again, he nips lightly at your skin before following it up with a gentle lap from his tongue and peppered kisses from his full lips. It's an unexpected but delicious action from your sexual but not insanely adventurous partner, and you sigh loudly into the room, fucking yourself harder against him. He moves his hands down your back again and you know that he's looking for more - more speed, more fucking - the sensuality is over entirely. He cups his hands around your arse cheeks and encourages your movements once more. With your arms still over his shoulders to aid you in your task, you lean hard against him to rise and fall on his cock with a little more fever.

“Shit, Y/N…,” your name tumbles gruffly from his lips, and his tongue swipes across his bottom lip swiftly. There's a frown on his forehead, one of deep pleasure, and you can feel the frequent twitches of his cock against your walls. There's a part of you that wants to climb off him and take him into your mouth as you had that morning. While you weren't one for swallowing - though you had this morning which was part of the reason Cillian had been so appreciative - you did find yourself turned on by the preemptive tastes of his body, and in your delirious fervent state, you wanted it again. But as close as he was to cumming, so too were you as his cock continued to rub perfectly across that super responsive spot inside of you. This kind of orgasm was always more intense, more body shaking, more moan inducing, and your walls always tightened that much more around his penis. You quickened your pace as much as your hips and bump would allow, slamming yourself back down against his groin for that deep grazing against your g-spot. It builds, quickly, with your movements and you can't control your body any longer as you ride yourself insane against him. Your hips move as if independent from you and your grip his head to your neck as it takes you over entirely. Your spasms are enough to draw his own groaning finish, and even in your own bliss, the feeling of his cock jerking and leaking inside of you is not missed -.more than that, it's savoured. He grunts with each twitch of his penis, and you can feel each forceful spurt inside of you. “Ah! Fuck…fuck…” He rests his cheek against your collarbone, forcing gasping mouthfuls of air against your sweat dampened skin. He slowly leans back into the sofa, and brings your body with him. You push your forehead against his and try to breathe through your nose to avoid blowing warm air into his face. “It's been…a while since…” he sighs, and laughs, out of breath. “...you came twice.”

You laugh into his face then sit up a little to push your hair from your forehead. You brace both hands back onto his shoulders to keep yourself sitting up for a moment. “Well, you owed me.” You smirk. "Debt settled." You arch yourself up awkwardly, feeling sticky, and feel the odd sensation of his softening cock leaving your body. You sit beside him, on top of your blouse that had somehow managed not to have been tossed to the floor with everything else. You rest against his side, and he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulder. He smells of sex and sweat, and it isn't beautiful but it is beautifully familiar. There is nothing sexy about the joining or parting of bodies for sex, nor in the aftermath, but when it's as good as this, and he's as good as he is, and he is everything you've ever wanted and needed, you'll take all the undignified add-ons that come along with it.

.

[isawas-here]

Colonels Favorite

(Ps. Sorry if the German is bad!! (I’m doing my best TvT) Sike there’s no smut that’s in the next part SORRYY!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a new recruit that just dropped in at the base and you dedicated yourself to training hard and long hours to keep your status up. Along the way you managed to make friends with a so called team “141” and “Kortac”; they were pretty intimidating nonetheless but quite kind and reserved. One of the members who was well reserved and really shy was named “König” meaning King. While you were training with one of them member’s from 141,you caught him leaning against the wall watching you it creeped you out a little bit but you didn’t mind. Your sparring partner Gaz was throwing punches left and right,trying to knock you off your balance but you defended yourself each time knocking him down; your foot pressing his chest as he fell to the ground. “Want to give up Garrick?” You laughed a little bit sweat beading your forehead and strands of hair in your face. “Nope we still have time we aren’t over yet” he smirked kicking his leg up from behind yours and sweeping you from under him; now towering over you. “See I’m not giving up”. You searched the room seeing König once again not once leaving the spot with his eyes locked on yours but his body language was different, he looked tense. You averted your eyes as you layed down in defeat breaking hard as you trained just 2 seconds ago. You stood up and walked over to your bag crabbing hot water bottle chugging half the bottle. You didn’t really know König that well,but what you did know if he spent time with Horangi another member from KorTac. You didn’t mind making friends but were y’all gonna stay like that forever..? You walked over to him holding out your hand, “Hi I’m Y/N” the hooded man looked down at you. Jesus was he THIS tall, you felt miniature to him. He slowly rasied his hand to shake yours, “Ah yes! Ich heisse König” he sounded nervous. “Pleasure to meet you! Where are you from, I heard your accent so…” you chuckled. “I’m from Austria and you are from America no?” “Yes,yes I am!”. You looked at him before asking “Not it be rude but why were you staring me down earlier?” He looked down before laughing nervously. “Es tut mid leid I didn’t mean to come of weird…Your physique and moves are very impressive!” you became flustered saying a “thank you”. You both looked at each other for a second before one of y’all spoke up. After some time together you and the colonel spent time together talking about the battles, things to do on y’all’s free time, history and each other. What you didn’t know is the small lingering of a crush you felt for him, you had hoped he reciprocated the same way. You were going to confess to him today. You asked on if the soldiers where you could find König and they told you the directions. So here you were standing at his door almost sweating and super nervous,becuase what if he rejected you and you don’t take rejection that well. It eats you up inside. You knocked on the door and waited for a few minutes before you heard shuffling and the lock of the door turning. The door opened showing the 6’8 man who towered over you. You gulped at the sight of him. “Oh hey y/n what brings you here?” he looked at you with a expression you couldn’t quite understand because of his tactical hood. “Oh I had something I wanted to tell you, may I come in?” You could see his eyes widen. “Oh ja come on in!” He moved out of the way and you came through the door way you saw a tiny table so you sat down him on the opposite side. You cleaned your throat before talking you didn’t wanna scare him. “So König we’ve know each other for a while now and..” he was looking at you so still looking at you every movement just like in the gym when you were training that day. You got more nervous but continued anyways. “And it’s okay you don’t I’ll just live but I like you.. not in a friend way sorta of a romantic way..” you got that off your chest feeling cleared from it. You looked down at your shoes before looking him again, his eyes still remained on yours. “Uh König say something..” you chuckled nervously. “I like you too”

HELP I GOTTA RIGHT PART 2 KMS

[heartofroses112]

Our Own Choices First Draft - Cody's Reveal

The taunts and vicious threats were cut short by a slam, a heavy thud that echoed through Bly’s head. He turned slightly, gaze switching from Fox and Palpatine to instead rest on the Commander.

With the sound of plastoid hitting metal, Bly had expected the Commander to have slammed his hands against the table to silence Palpatine. But no. It was not gloved hands that rest against the holo-table, but rather a helmet. The Commander’s helmet.

Bly stared at the helmet, disbelief slowing the cogs in his head. Slowly, so slowly, Bly lifted his head. His eyes dragged up from the helmet, along scarred plastoid and familiar build.

Chest heaving with the rage that must have compelled him to finally remove his helmet. Eyes burning with hatred for a man who had ruined their lives. Scar reflecting the fluorescent lights from above. Bly would recognize the brother before him anywhere.

“Well, well,” Palpatine drawled, lips drawling back in a sneer. “Commander Cody. What a surprise.”

No one in the room made a sound. Bly wondered if any of them were even breathing. He wasn’t, not with the heavy weight settling in his chest.

Cody let his hands rest on the edge of the holo-table. He leaned in. “You will not threaten my men any longer. Leave. Before I do something you will regret.”

Palpatine shifted, hood of his cloak moving just enough to reveal the smirk on his face. “Oh? I do not fear the idle threats of a clone. Your little rebellion is weak in the grand scheme of things. All I need to do is outlast you.”

“Freedom and peace are ideals; they will live on long past my death or yours,” Cody shot back. Even despite the rage still burning in his eyes, Cody’s voice had not once slipped from the calm tone he spoke in. “And your death will come.”

Cody leaned in even closer. “I have spent nearly half my life fighting you. And I will not stop until your corpse is dead and smoking at my feet. No corner of the galaxy can hide you, no amount of blasters and unnatural powers can save you. After all you have done to my brothers, to the Jedi, to the people of this galaxy. Death will be a kindness.”

“Now, now, Commander,” Palpatine tutted, hands folding in on themselves beneath the sleeves of his robes. “You once held the Jedi in such high respect. And revenge is not the Jedi way. What would your general say?”

“Because of you,” Cody snarled, “the Jedi are dead. So, it does not matter what they would say. All that matters now is that they are avenged.”

“So, why hide for all this time?” Palpatine murmured. “It does not strike me as the actions of a man seeking vengeance.”

Cody stood up straight once more, energy coursing through him. Bly couldn’t look away. “Concealing my identity was a mercy. You had me fight for three, long years. You assigned me missions and watched me lead thousands of men. You know exactly how good of a strategist I am. You know exactly how ruthless I can be. And that should terrify you.”

Palpatine didn’t say anything. Bly thought that, maybe, yes, Cody truly did scare the old man. And wasn’t that something?

“I was second to Obi-Wan Kenobi for three years until you forced me to turn on him. And Kenobi was one of the men you hated most, the one who stood against you and kept you from your goal for so long. How does it feel to know that Kenobi’s beliefs and my fury are what haunt you now?

“The strength of the Jedi and the passion of the clones.” Cody lifted his chin. “You never stood a chance.” And with a single motion, Cody ended the transmission.

The room was thrust into complete silence, the only sound Cody’s ragged breathing. Bly couldn’t look away, would never look away, because Force, it was Cody, standing here and alive and strong. Cody stared at the empty space above the table for another long minute.

“Lieutenant Clyde,” Cody said. The lieutenant straightened to attention. “Find out how he managed to connect the transmission. Talk to Tech, start encrypting all of our communications again.”

“Sir.”

“Lieutenant Boil.” Cody still didn’t look away from the holo-table, but Bly could see how Cody’s eyebrows tightened, how Cody’s jaw clenched after speaking the name of his man. Bly didn’t think Boil moved; had the lieutenant guessed? Or had he known? “Start coordinating with Howzer and Grey; get the fleet out of this system and somewhere far from the Core.”

“Yes, sir,” Boil breathed.

Cody nodded once, twice, three times. Then he grabbed his helmet, slid it back onto his head, and the Commander left the room without another word.

“Fuck,” Fox gasped out, sagging backwards against Thire. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Bly let out a broken laugh, pressing a hand to his forehead and staring at the holo-table. ‘Fuck’ was right. What else was there to say?

Boil cleared his throat. “Grey, Howzer. Breaker, you too.”

“How are you so composed right now?”

pt 1 | pt 2

[secretwhumplair]

Smith

684 words | No Warrior (sequel to Birth)

Content | Social anxiety, mention of collaring

Notes | Remember Björn? Yves does.

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles​​ @whumpsy-daisies @yet-another-heathen

@rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods @pleasancies @much-ado-about-whumping

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em @itsleighlove @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady @everynameistakencarrots @scoundrelwithboba

One day, the iron handle of the cooking pot broke, spilling soup right into the fire it had hung over.

Yves found, to his surprise, he was more annoyed than frightened.

He had a cold dinner and set the pot by the door to take it to the smith in the morning. It seemed simple.

But when he woke up and picked up the pot and went on his way to the village, he found his grasp tightening with every step. He had never really had much interaction with the smith, not since… he arrived, he’d just seen him around. He seemed a calm and kind person, nothing at all to be worried about.

Yet when he stood before the workshop, its open door spilling heat onto the path, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to their last encounter.

Truly, he owed the smith his thanks. He had been nothing but helpful to him, and Yves had never even talked to him again. That was silly, too, and it would seem sillier to catch up with it now.

For a little while, he just stood there, listening to the clanging of the heavy hammer from within, distracting himself with the flight of the handful of birds circling above without really seeing them.

Then, he took a deep breath, and knocked on the doorframe.

The smith didn’t look up from the iron he was hammering, but he shouted, »One moment!« and finished up his work, thrusting the as yet shapeless metal back into the forge. He was smaller than Yves remembered, but not by much.

»Yves!« When he finally looked to the door, surprise was plainly written across his face. »Good to see you about! How can I help you?«

Yves hesitated. He had thought about what he wanted to say, but a little voice in the back of his head still insisted he was being ridiculous. It mingled with the lingering fear of asking for help, of bothering anyone.

»I wanted to thank you,« he finally managed. »I never quite did. For — you know.« He briefly touched a hand to his neck. Even that was enough to summon a memory of the horrid collar.

It was gone now.

»’course.« Björn smiled — he had such a kind smile, much like Runar’s. »We do what we can to help one another out. I know you were scared. Are you well now?«

That also seemed a silly question, so many months later; but after all, it was Yves’ fault they hadn’t had this conversation sooner. And yet… he found it easy to return the smile.

»I am. Thanks.« He awkwardly lifted the pot. »I was also hoping you could have a look at this.«

»Of course! Give it here.« The pot seemed small in the smith’s hands, but maybe that was because Yves hadn’t seen it in Runar’s for so long. Björn took one quick look at the break, tutted, and put the pot on a shelf. »That shouldn’t be much trouble. Do you need it for lunch? Otherwise I’d rather finish those up, and you can have it back by evening.«

»That’s fine.« Yves wouldn’t dream of rushing him. »Do you… need anything? The chives are coming along nicely.« A lot of the town operated on the assumption that everyone contributed their share to the community’s well-being, and Yves’ part was, mostly, to weave — though he had started to spin, as well, and like everyone helped out in the fields when needed — but it was always polite to offer, wasn’t it?

Björn smiled. »Sure, wouldn’t mind some.«

Weeks passed, and Yves found himself stopping by the smith’s workshop more and more often when he came by. He brought him herbs from the garden, and they chatted — from a few words to whole coversations about Yves’ garden (no, Runar’s garden) or Björn’s craft.

Yves hadn’t, once he shed the worst of his fear, found it hard to get along with most of the village. Runar’s family had taken him in warmly. But as time went by, he started to feel like he had a friend.

[child0feden]

Which fisrt word do u think the kids from your dad! stories would say? I imagine the twins saying something super weird as the first word lol

oh my goshhh, this is such a cute question! argh, i love getting questions related to the dad au works so much, they are just so adorable and i love them all… now i am thinking of making a little mini post about what their names are and their appearances in my head too but i don’t know if you guys would want that… if you do, let me know! i might just make it anyways hehe

dad! øystein was absolutely trying to make both of your twin girls say “ coca-cola ” for their first words as a joke… then one of them, your girl who is already a major daddys girl, actually does came out and said it for her first word… well, she tried her absolute best to say it though it came out more like “ co-ah coo-luh ” but that was more than close enough for øystein and he could not stop laughing for days about how absolutely perfect it was! all whilst you were just beyond shocked that he actually managed to make one of your twins say a damn sugary drink brand that they could not even drink yet for their first word instead of “ mama ” or “ dada ” i mean seriously?! you carried her and her sister for so long in your stomach, put up with so much pain and mood swings for her and she says that as her first word?! he makes her say that for her first word?! but you certainly could not stay baffled and upset for long at all before joining him in his laughter and realising just how humorous the whole situation is… he tells everyone about it wether they ask about her first word or not, it becomes a staple story for him to tell at every event and it is never forgotten, even when she reaches her much older years and he is beyond proud when she turns out to love coca-cola as much as he does, just as he knew she would! she would have to love coca-cola with it being her literal first word and all… but luckily for you, your other twin girl who is a major mamas girl ends up just saying “ mama ” for her first word! øystein pretends to be just so disappointed in her, tutting whilst you get excited and pepper her rosy red cheeks with soft kisses, holding your other girl in his arms whilst shaking his head towards her and telling her she should have stuck to the “ coca-cola pact ” whatever that is… but he is not actually disappointed, obviously not! he is quick to take her from you arms when your shower of love and praise towards her is over, quick to hold both her and her sister against his chest whilst planing a kiss to her head and telling her how good that was as her small hands grasp at his long dyed black hair…

dad! bård has an extremely quiet baby with you… she barely ever even cried all that much when she was a newborn and even when she did cry, she was really quick to quiet down within just seconds of being lifted into your or her fathers arms… so yeah, your daughter with bård would have a case of a baby not saying their first word for a whileee… like, a pretty long while! she just does not say a word! she barely even makes a peep… she is quiet as a church mouse, only letting out quiet squeaks and hums but never even attempting to say an actual word no matter how much you and bård tried to goad her on, no matter how much you and bård tried to tempt her and guide her to say something easy… bård was definitely pretty nervous and afraid that there was something wrong with her after she still was not saying her first word months after she should have! he was scared that maybe she was sick or somehow in pain and she wanted to speak but could not manage it… he was just so beyond worried! you and her doctor had to reassure him many times that she was perfectly fine! telling him that some babies just take longer than others and she certainly is not in any pain! when the first word finally came out of her mouth, it wasn’t just one word, oh no… it was beyond random and out of the blue, completely unprompted as bård held her on his hip whilst showing her his drums and talking to her about how he will teach her to play when she is older and then, then just as he turns around and goes to leave his small practice room… in a quiet and upset babble out of her mouth comes “ papa, i want! ” all whilst she made grabby hands towards his drums! to say he fell into a state of silent shock would be an understatement! he went deadly quiet for at least a minute, wide eyes staring down at her as she repeated the phrase for a second time, more demanding and still obviously upset at the thought of leaving the drums behind, tiny fingers pointing at his drums once more before he managed to break out of his shock, a proud smile came across his face as he lifted her higher up on his hip before excitedly calling out to you, leaning his face down to pepper kisses on her chubby cheeks and laughing to himself in between mumbling praises to her, telling her how proud of her he is and if she wanted to see his drums, she should have asked sooner, he would never deny her access to anything of his! all of the lingering worry he had about something being wrong, fear that maybe he was doing something wrong and he was to blame for her lack of words was completely washed away with her sudden small sentence, she became a shy little babble box around the two of you after that day…

dad! pelle has a daughter who absolutely loves nature and the woodland! i mean, thanks to the two of you anyways… you guys would take her on little walks through the nearby forest as soon as she was old enough to leave the house safely and was not extremely vulnerable to germs! you bundle her up in a fluffy little brown bear onesie with mittens and a thick jacket! pelle holds her on his hip or against his chest, cradling her small body with an obvious protectiveness as he is overly careful with his steps on the small dirt path, walking slowly next to you as the two of you talked quietly about your daughter, his hand softly stroking her back and his eyes watching hers as they dart around the forest, her big doe eyes curious about her surroundings as she constantly looks from side to side… it is only when you and pelle hear her let out and excited squeal and notice her begin to get a little rowdy in his arms that you both stop walking, his brows furrowing as he sees her small hand outstretched towards something, his eyes following the direction of her pointing before they land on a deer in the distance, quiet and minding its own business as it feeds on some berries and leaves, unaware or unbothered by your presence as the two of you smile at your daughters excitement and obvious admiration of the animal… it is only when he quietly mumbles down to her about what the animal is, telling her the full name and what they like to eat, that she says her first word which is “ deer ” though it kind of sounds more like “ duuh ” and he quickly looks up at you in shock after she says it, meeting your similarly wide eyes as a big smile crawls across his face, an open mouthed genuine proud smile as he bounces her slightly and presses a kiss to her head, quietly telling her that yeah, it is a deer… repeating the name just a little slower for her to follow his pronunciation as she attempts to mirror his word once more, her smile only getting bigger as his does when he kisses her head once more and praises her, moving her a little to let you come over and pepper some of your own kisses to her chubby cheeks and offer some praise of your own as he looks down at the two of you, wondering how he got so lucky… why he was the receiver of such beauty and love… this first word of hers absolutely leads to more in life for him and her! pelle loves crafting her things centred around deer! wether it be an art piece, a small sculpture carved from deer antler or even making her a little custom deer plushie… it really opens the window to his creative soul and he adores seeing his little girl smile when he gifts her something new! when it comes to his son, i think his first word would be a simple “ dada ” after much encouragement from you whilst pelle watched and shook his head with a small smile! when he actually does come out and say it, his smile drops a tiny bit before immediately growing back as he feels a strong warmth envelop his heart, a slight tightening in his throat as the world around him becomes muffled, your coos and quiet laughter becoming cushioned in his ears as he realises just how special he is to his son and just how special his son is to him… when he realises his son loves him just as much as he does, when he realises his son only sees him as his father and not some scary person… i think this is what would make pelle open his hear a whole lot to your son, it is his breaking point as he realises both of his children see him as is their father, it’s all they will ever see him as… and he could not be any more grateful for that…

dad! vegard has a baby girl who just absolutely adoresss her father! she is a total daddys girl and it is probably because he was the one always fulfilling her cravings for cookies when she was still in your womb… but the thing with him is he is just so bashful and loving towards you! so whilst he loves the fact that she is a daddy’s girl and is certainly not ignorant to the fact, he actually tries to get her to say “ mama ” for her first word! he thinks you deserve it more than him, thinks she should recognise you as her mama for her first word instead of him as her papa! but you think the opposite… you adore seeing how much she loves him and obviously slightly prefers him to you, so it just turns into a lighthearted battle between the two of you constantly trying to make her say the opposite thing! but alas, she does say “ papa ” for her first word and you let out the loudest cheer when she does! immediately proclaiming yourself the winner of this contest all whilst cooing and praising her, vegard watching with a smile, shaking his head before taking her into his arms and pressing a soft kiss to her frizzy black hair, asking her softly about the deal they had, about how she promised she would say “ mama ” first! obviously this is all lost to her baby brain as she just babbles and continually repeats “ papa ” up at him in exchange for more kisses and coos…

arghhh i just know they would all be so beyond proud of their babies first word! the praise and pride in their baby would be insane for weeks following the first word coming out of their mouth! thank you very much for the fluffy little ask, anon <3

[coyotescribbles]

Like A House On Fire [Part 10]

Continuing from...

(I have spent like a week absolutely floored by migraines, but this is finally getting booted out the door TuT It's another one of those "the first draft is meh, but it'll get polished up in post" bits.)

-----

"Are you still sulking?"

"…" Adze growled quietly, fixing his attention straight ahead. "I am not sulking."

"You are. You are absolutely sulking," Bolo scoffed. "Did the human really offend you that badly?"

"I just don't understand why she had to come with us."

"You and your wounded pride, honestly. She apologized."

"That doesn't mean I have to want her in our unit." Adze's voice grew sharp and stuttered with annoyance. Of all the people to side against him, his own brother was the most frustrating. They'd both seen their entire battlegroup wiped out by humans, and now this?? He expected Hatchet to be soft, but Bolo?

It baffled him beyond comprehension. It was practically betrayal.

"She seems capable enough to me. I mean, she's already proven that she's got good aim-"

"DON'T. START."

"I'm just saying."

If he hadn't been tasked with maintaining the flank…

What really scraped his plates, though, was the fact that Bolo wasn't wrong. On any count. That single, unaugmented human had put out his optic while he was moving, in the dark, with a basic standard-issue rifle. If he hadn't closed the distance before she could get off a second shot, he knew that she could very well have finished the job.

And she had apologized for that, and for wounding his pride.

And the scrawny little thing had proven that she was, actually, capable of keeping up with them and pulling her weight.

(For the most part, anyway. Hatchet had looked ridiculous carrying her for half the night while she'd slept, but no amount of suggesting that they just leave her had gotten through the Devastator's thick faceplate.)

It was like sand in his gears, damn it, and he was going to have to deal with it until either the human jumped ship, or Hatchet handed her off to one of his CyOp contacts.

So, yes, he was sulking, even if he wasn't going to admit to it to that smug little rustbucket brother of his.

"…Come on," speak of the devil and he might just run his vocoder, "just admit it…"

"Admit what," he ground out flatly.

"You like her, too." Bolo sounded entirely too smug, and it took all of Adze's self-control to not throw something at his head.

"I do not. I am tolerating her!" He hissed, "and you only like her because she shot me!"

"It was an impressive shot," his brother just shrugged, "buuuut she's also nice now that she's not scared out of her mind."

"She's a snarky little pest, is what she is."

Bolo laughed in response to that, and all Adze could do was quietly fume to himself. To his brother's credit, he at least realized that he might be toeing the line a bit, and dropped the teasing.

And for a while, everything felt almost normal again, with the steady rhythm of their march and the low undercurrent of quiet conversation. Even Hatchet's conversation with his human, that he couldn't help but tune in to, listening in as they discussed the current situation with the planet's human population and the danger SEHC posed to them - at least, until he got a sharp ping over his receiver, and immediately knew he'd been caught eavesdropping.

[Don't you have a job to do, nosy little brother?]

[…Sorry, Hatchet. It won't happen again.]

[I know you better than to believe that. If you want to be part of the conversation, then come back here and participate, but don't eavesdrop.]

The connection was cut with a burst of static, and Adze let his shoulders slump, taking a moment to nurse his smarting pride. And then he straightened back up, and let himself fall in line with Hatchet.

"How nice of you to join us, little brother," the Devastator greeted him, earning a grumbled reply in return.

He did his best to ignore the human's insufferably smug little smile. Little pest.

"We were just discussing the evacuation," she said all too sweetly, like she knew he'd just gotten scolded; "I'd always had a sneaking suspicion that there was something fishy about Super Earth's stories, but this kinda blows all my suspicions out of the water."

"How nice, to finally have your eyes opened," Adze scoffed, "you're cleverer than most Helldivers, at least."

"Well, that's not exactly a high bar to clear, but I'll take a compliment wherever I can get one." The human shrugged, letting her rifle slip down to hang at her hip. "But… yeah, it - well, it isn't nice to have my eyes opened, as you put it, but I guess it's… vindicating? In a way? To know that we weren't the only disposable assets in SEHC's eyes."

He almost felt pity for her, then - the briefest twinge, that he promptly stifled.

"…Gotta admit, though," she continued, her voice lowering further, "I wasn't expecting to hear that SEHC used us SEAF regulars to do the dirty work. I mean, I probably shouldn't be surprised, considering some of the rumors from the Terminid front, but…"

"It would be far from the first false flag operation carried out by the High Command," Hatchet nodded solemnly. "Their self-victimization is the only way they can justify their eternal war."

"They wouldn't be able to sustain it if their people stopped cooperating with it," Adze's tone was curt. "They are all complicit, not just High Command."

"Hey, ease the fuck up, Two-Tone!" The human's rebuke was lightning-fast, and the glare she shot him was as sharp as the Commissar's blade. "You don't know the first thing about what it's like to live in that hellhole! When you've grown up with a not-so-figurative fucking gun held to the back of your head, then I'll care about your opinions on civvies and the regular military. Until then? Stifle it."

"At ease, Z," Hatchet gently cut in, before turning his attention to him; "Adze, do I need to give you a refresher on not needling allies, too?"

"No," he replied, pointedly looking away.

"Good," Hatchet turned his optics forward once more. "We must always remember that we are not so different from one another. There are cruel Automatons, just as there are cruel humans, and there are moral humans, just as there are moral Automatons. We stand apart only in the fact that we have never been made to fear those who made us."

The discussion tapered off after that, but Adze found himself reluctant to resume his position, opting to stay close to Hatchet… and the human… for the time being.

"…You are half right, though," Z finally spoke quietly, after a few long minutes of silence; "SEHC wouldn't be able to sustain this if civilians didn't cooperate. But everyone - and I mean everyone - is scared, and I don't mean of you and the bugs. People do… crazy, stupid things when they're scared."

"You would know," he muttered in return, earning a derisive snort from her.

"I would," she agreed with a laugh, "I mean, I was scared to death of fighting you and now look at where I am, walking right next to you instead."

Somewhere off to his right, he could hear Bolo snickering; all he could do was scoff, squaring his shoulders and looking straight forward. "You should have been scared. If Hatchet hadn't wanted you alive, I would have finished you off and not thought twice about it."

"Aww, I don't hate you, too, Two-Tone," she replied with that infuriating mock-sweetness of hers, drawing an angry stuttering from him.

"Stop calling me that, pest!"

"Okay, prick."

"Vermin-!"

Bolo was openly laughing now, and Hatchet just rumbled in exasperation.

"Knock it off, both of you, or I swear by the makers…"

[spacenmonsters-ynot]

Alright, my dear fellow fans, the vote is in on my little puzzle.

As I was waiting for the vote to finish, I created a mini-scene for what I thought would happen with either option. Since the Apple of Discord from the Librarians lost, I’ve decided to upload what I came up with here since it won’t end up in the larger fic and it might entertain the people who had voted for it. Please enjoy ;)

As soon as the Apple touched his hand, he was pissed, angrier than he had ever been in his life and afterlife. He glared at Crystal, a snarl spread across his face. “Could you be any more of a bitch, Crystal? Fucking Hell.”

He stepped away from her, hand instinctively tucking the Apple into the inner pocket of his coat, right where his cricket bat always went when he needed quick access. Crystal’s look of dumbfounded hurt didn’t even phase him. Served her right for being such a cunt a sec ago.

“Charles, please, you need to get rid of the Apple,” Edwin begged.

“Is that right, mate?” Charles asked sarcastically, “I thought this is what you all wanted? Me getting in touch with my feelings, yeah?”

He stalked forward, watching as Edwin edged back. There was a look of weary concern on his best mate’s face. It pissed him off worse. “Always fucking pushing me, making me think about stuff I don’t fucking want to. If you gave a shit about me, you’d leave it the fuck alone.”

He lunged forward before Edwin dug out his binding spell. “Easy there, mate, I ain’t fucking done talking.”

His hands clamped down on Edwin’s wrists, dragging them up to chest height and away from any pockets.

“Charles, stop!” Crystal shouted. He heard her footsteps coming closer.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Crystal,” Charles glared over his shoulder, meeting her scared eyes, “but I will if you get in my fucking way.”

Edwin was froze solid when Charles turned back around. There it was, that prey instinct that plagued his partner occasionally. It used to happen tons, right after Hell, but it was rare nowadays. Seeing it now shifted something in Charles. A kind of snarling, cooing thing that rose up like magma in his chest.

“Hush, love,” Charles tutted, voice low, “this is what you wanted, right? My feelings, yeah? I ain’t gonna hurt you. Never you, mate.”

He adjusted his grip on Edwin’s wrists, putting them both in one hand. The newly freed hand reached up and caressed his best mate’s cheek. “But I gotta tell you, ‘cause you hafta know, it would be wrong to let you continue on like you are.”

He pet his hand through Edwin’s hair. Edwin’s face was crumpled in confusion, mouthing ‘what’ once. “You ain’t in love with me. You can’t be.”

Utter bewilderment dominated his best mate’s expression then. “You don’t know me, love, do you? You’ve only see me smiling to keep us happy, but you don’t know the fucked up shit that’s always going on in this empty, thick skull of mine.”

Charles butted his forehead against Edwin’s.

“You think I’m so,” Charles snorted here, “good. I want to be so good for you, love.”

Charles dragged his nose against Edwin’s, wishing that he could actually feel his Edwin’s breath. “But I’m a piece of shit, just like my dad. A total cunt.”

“Jesus,” Crystal sounded like she got punched in her gut.

Edwin was shaking his head, his expression changing into a kind of sorrowful denial. “No, Charles, you are n–”

“Yeah, I am,” Charles interrupted, “but even though I know I’m a monster, you can’t leave me, mate. Just because you ain’t in love with me, don’t mean nothing. I still love you, I wish I could tuck you into my chest, keep you away from anything that can hurt you. Let me get hurt instead of you, god, I never want to see you in a pile of pieces ever a-fucking-gain, I wish there was a way to rip a demon into shreds, just so the fuck knew how it felt. I want–”

Charles rubbed his cheek against Edwin’s, holding the back of his mate’s neck to keep him still. “I want all of you. Everything. Please. I wish you actually were in love with me.”

The last half of that was choked as he fought tears.

“Charles,” Edwin whispered, “it’s alright. It’ll be okay.”

“Of course it will be. You’re here,” Charles tucked his face into Edwin’s neck.

“Charles,” Edwin cleared his throat quietly, “you said you were giving me your feelings because that’s what I want, correct?”

“I’ll give you anything,” Charles vowed, “I’d kill for you, mate. I’d go to oblivion for you.”

“Oh my god,” Crystal gasped.

“Your coat, Charles,” Edwin’s voice was strong and even, a command, “I want you to take off your coat and put it on the desk.”

Charles pulled away immediately, already halfway out of his coat. It stopped at his elbows and he spun on his heel to face the desk. Crystal scrambled away from him as he marched to it and promptly tossed his coat down atop it. The moment the cloth left his hand, his rage and other emotions vanished. He blinked.

“Charles?” Edwin called tentatively.

Charles started shaking his head, eyes widening and a feeling of panic beginning to bubble up in him. He glanced to the side to first look at Crystal, cringing at the look on her face, then he locked his eyes onto the mirror. Away, he needed to be away from all this, just until he could pull himself together. Charles scrambled toward the mirror.

He ignored the way Edwin and Crystal shouted for him and plunged through the mirror without looking for a destination. Who gave a fuck where he ended up at that point, as long as it wasn’t the Office.

It’s a little rough, but I kinda like it. The idea was that the worst version of Charles was an emotional mess, since he bottles so much up, making him erratic. But even his worst self would never hurt Edwin, it goes against his entire being. Crystal, on the other hand, I figured since she was about to get in between him and Edwin, he could switch the mental track that labeled her friend to foe easily.

[cookie-crumblr]

Hype Train!

F!Streamer Reader x M!Yandere Streamer OC

Part 5~

His Info: 📹✨

Part: 1 2 3 4 5 6

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: NSFW, !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, SMUTT, cockwarming, mutual teasing, pet names (good girl, pretty, my girl), yandere, exhibitionism

“Try to not worry f’me, okay?”

You sigh, “I’ll try. I really will. It’s just gonna be really hard, ya know?”

“Of course, I’d never ask you to completely stop anything. I just wan’ ya t’ know that I’m gonna protect you.” Jasper kisses your palm, “from everything.”

A smile spreads across your warming face.

“I love you, Jasper. I trust you, just promise me you won’t get in trouble… I—I don’t wanna be without you.” Tears prick at your eyes. You’ve never been able to let your guard down… You’ve never even felt this scared before.

He reaches up to gently wipe your face and kiss both your cheeks.

“Nothing will take me away from you, pretty.” Your hair slips through his fingers as he deeply inhales your scent. “I promise.”

You beam, “Oh! by the way, I was planning on streaming tonight, would you wanna collab?”

“I have a great idea for a collab, actually…”

“Mm!! Uhh, oh! S-sorry, hah! Ummmm, Y-yurmomstinks, uhh, hah! th-thank you for thhhe—the um, resub! You’re amazing!” You stammer out before muting your mic in a ferver. “Jasper! I don’t think I c-can do this! they’re gonna know!!” you hiss.

His head remains draped over your shoulder.

“Hmmm, I think your doing amazin’, sittin’ on my cock while entertaining our viewers like the good girl you aree~. I’m so lucky my girl’s s’ talented,” He blows a little puff of air onto your neck.

“St-stooop! p-please, Jasperr! H-how am I supposed t-to d-do this?” You whine, the intense pressure and searing heat inside you make it almost impossible to function.

Did it get bigger somehow?

“Ahhrrrrg! You’re insatiable… And What is that? Why does it f-feel… like, b-bigger or something?”

“You’re one t’ talk. I keep feelin’ you squeeze me even tighter. You want so much more. Don’t lie~” The grin on his stupidly hot face is audible as he teases you. “nd I put my piercing back in” he nonchalantly tickles your neck with his teeth.

“What?! It’s p—pi—ha—pierced!?”

He pushes his hips up, going even deeper into you. “mmhmmm, ’s it too much f’you?” his snake bites tickle your ear as he nips it.

“Mmmf!!! D-don’t d-do th—aaaat!! Jas-ah-perr” He rolls himself under you slowly, gripping your sides to keep you in place.

You bite your lip.

“Do you really want me to stop, pretty girl? hmmm?” He starts to lift you off of his lap.

“AH! N-no!!!” You reach down and claw into his thighs.

“hmm,” He hums in satisfaction, “and you said I’m the insatiable one,” he tuts, and then all of a sudden while he’s still holding you above his lap, he bucks up, and pulls you down hard to meet him halfway.

“AHH! Jas-!!!” he lowers himself, lifts you, then slams back up into you again. “I-I’m gonna!!!”

“Do it.” he commands, “Cum on this cock, pretty.”

“Mmmmffff fffffuuuuck!” You convulse, and cry out.

He unmutes you, and slowly lowers you back down…

“You better quiet down, p-pretty, they’ll figure us out~.” He kisses your neck.

“Ffffff-uuuck youuu,” you quake as you come down, the pleasure still building though. Even your Vtuber model is twitching around the corner of the screen.

“Not yet, prettyy~,” He speaks smugly over your shoulder into the mic.

“Mm, ah! S-sorry every-one! I ha-ad to t-take a phone call!”

The chat is already blowing up…

“😳😳😳Was that… Jasper_????”

“Uhm…😵 Are you seriously getting fucked rn?”

“She def is😪.”

“That sounded like Jasper tho”

“Yo waddup Jas!”

“tell him we say HI!☺️☺️☺️!!”

“haaaaa, Oh my g-goodness guys! No! I’m seriously n-not-”

“It’s okay, Y/username, t-tell them who you belong tooo~” His smug grin is even more evident as the chat speeds past at the speed of light.

“Jasper!!! Shut uppp!!!”

“OH MY GOD!!! IT REALLY IS JASPER?!”

“NO WAY”

“IS THAT REALLY JASPER?!”

“JASPER_!!!?”

“ASHDMDMSKSMMXM🥵”

“SHE REALLY IS GETTING FUCKED!!!”

“i knew it.”

“yup”

“i knew it. i just ddnt think it was gonna b him…😔”

“Wow…”

“I was seriously in love with him tho😭”

“😱This is ILLIGAL”

“bro…🤤 How tight is sh-” he bans that one before you can finish reading it.

and so much more, you only catch a few as they fly by.

Tears start to prick at your eyes, you feel a little scared, some of them seem mad…

“Hey now, don’t be mean. Y/Username is my girl. If you disrespect her, you’re no longer welcome in either of our streams.” He scolds the viewers.

“You’re literally fukin rn tho. 😑”

“No, he’s right”

“Maybe she’s just excited?”

“😳…tickle fight???”

“S-sorry guys, I am-mm, with Jasper. We are just joking around behind the camera, hah, nothing like that! I swear!”

“We are together though.” He starts, “So You’ll all have ta get used to it. Got it?”

You stifle a laugh.

“Mmm!” he groans as your body shakes.

“someone call the Litch police! They really are fucking!🚔🚔🚔”

“TOS”

“TOS OMG🚨🚨🚨”

“OH NO MY EAAARRRSSSS”

“TEE OHHH ESSSSS🚨”

“No, wait, this is getting good guys😏…”

“^^ agreed😏”

You get a pretty devious idea, and the smirk to go with it…

With new purpose you grind down into his lap, rotating your lower half, you’re a little jittery, but the desired effect is still met.

“Y-y/User-username! ffffuuuuck-” his head falls over the back of the chair, his hands curling tighter into your sides.

“What is it Jassspserrrrr~? Tell themm~” you stifle more giggles, and his hips buck into your ass involuntarily. “Ahh!” You gasp.

“Ah! mmm!” He struggles.

Now you’re both fighting live on litch to make the other finish first.

“mmm, you little,” He lifts you again, the monitors shake as you hold on for dear life.

Your elbows hold you up and you push the keyboard out of the way. “L-little what? hmmm??” You laugh.

“That’s it. S-Streams over.” He reaches around you.

“Just when it was heating up,”

“Oh man, that’s really hot ngl…”

“I still can’t believe it’s really him.”

“Yeah when did this even happen??”

“Who cares, that was hot asf”

“did ny1 clip that???”

“Did you fuckin hear her? she was defsoaking his lap”

“Yeah, share plz!”

The chat continues to wiz past even after he ended the stream.

You’re forced to lean onto the desk with your head down, and your back arched. The access he has to your pussy from this angle is intense.

You already knew you were going to lose, but you had fun getting to tease him back.

“I-love y-ou Y/N!” He thrusts his hips up into you not stopping, your body is threatening to knock everything off everything down as you’re pushed forward more and more with each one.

You’re going to have bruises on your hips from him forcing you into the edge of the desk over and over again.

“J-jasper! I-I lo-ve y-you!”

You both climax, his hot semen mixes with your juices and spill out of you over his length and down onto his lap.

You continue grinding desperately into eachother for a mind breaking come down.

You’re yelling each other’s names and moaning at the top of your lungs, until the neighbors bang on the wall of your living room.

You laugh, and readjust to hug him, and snuggle into his neck, his dick continues to twitch inside you.

He rubs firm circles into your back and squeezes you.

“I seriously love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Jasper… This was…” You have to catch your breath, “Actually really fun,” You let out a heart filled giggle and sigh.

“We’re doing this again for all of my future streams right?”

“NO! oh my godddd!” you begin to laugh, “I hate you… hmm…” You wonder… “I do have another idea though…”

“Oh? care to share?”

“Nope! You’ll see,” You grin from ear to ear.

[lindyloosims]

STELLA: Luka are you scared?

LUKA: Scared? Of what baby?

STELLA: Parenting?

LUKA: Nah, aside from nappies and bottle feeds, babies need love and we've got an ocean full of that!

STELLA: What if she doesn't like me?

LUKA: She'll be a baby Stells, you'll be her mother who grew her inside of you and will continue to help her grow by feeding her from your beautiful and ample breasts! She will adore you!

STELLA: Naughty boy!

LUKA: Your breasts are beautiful, where's the lie? Even Dawnie was taken by them and she's straight!

STELLA: Are you talking about this to distract me?

LUKA: Yep, is it working?

STELLA: *tuts* Yes!

STELLA: What are we going to do about your brother and Ophelia? It's very awkward around here, the poor children!

LUKA: *sigh* I know, Colt's been sneaking around with Julie!

STELLA: Well I knew he fancied her.

LUKA: Oh, I'm always the last to know these things. Does she...fancy him back? Or is this just...a phase or something?

STELLA: I think she does, why? Would it bother you if they got together?

LUKA: *sigh* I dunno, it could get messy if it doesn't work out. My brother and my best friend? You think him and Ophelia are awkward? That's way worse!

You'd think that my new romance with Julie would make me somewhat happy, and it does, but I'm going through a midlife crisis right now. I'm older than she is, an adult and lately I've been feeling like life is fleeting and I need to get on that. I've been so miserable with Ophelia that I've gone into panic mode.

My life is at a crossroads, while my brother seems to be right on track with his loving mermaid girlfriend and their little baby on the way. Happiness has eluded me for a while now, as long as Ophelia is still under this roof I'll continue to feel like this! Stella has already told me off for my attitude, I don't wanna disappoint her again, she means the world to Luka and I don't wanna fall out with her!

STELLA: Hi Ophelia, listen, can we talk?

OPHELIA: About?

STELLA: About the situation in the house, are you going to live here after the baby is born? Or-

OPHELIA: What's it to you? You've only been here five minutes and you're already trying to rule the roost!

STELLA: Yeah that's not...what I'm doing! I was going to ask if you wanted to move in with me and Luka when Summer's a little older. We're looking for somewhere we can expand our family. But I apologise if that's me "ruling the roost", just forget I even said anything.

OPHELIA: No, I'm...I'm sorry!

STELLA: Are you? Because it seems like you enjoy snapping peoples' heads off, and I know it's not pregnancy hormones because I'm further along than you are and I don't think I've spoken to anyone the way you speak to us!

STELLA: I'm going inside, *sigh* Luka's got a film he wants us to watch!

OPHELIA: I really am...sorry!

STELLA: Well that's very good of you, forget I offered to take you in, I don't think I want you around my daughter! Excuse me!

LUKA: Baby are you okay? You were really quiet all through the movie!

STELLA: Luka...

Stella's altercation with Ophelia has upset her greatly, and no wonder, trying to do a good thing and getting fire breathed all over you by the dragon!

STELLA: ...my water just broke, I'm in labour! *whimper*

LUKA: Huh?

Nice one Ophelia, you upset the kindest and sweetest person in the house so much that she went into early labour! Really great!

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Stella Harper appears courtesy of @akitasimblr