#its not up to me or anyone else to decide if he's healthy or making healthy decisions for his body

[babieken]

About the shownu bread cheeks. Honestly I’m trying not to comment on people’s especially kpop idols appearance because we never know what people are going through…but seeing your man so chiselled in the face after him looking quite fuller and healthy before and during enlistment I 100% suspected it was for comeback purposes idk also I always think back of the comments about him being “too big” for the all the stage clothing and how some fans didn’t like his bigger frame as though the man isn’t a former an athlete and a dancer but…idk it’s all very sad.

Oh yeah definitely! I'd never bring this stuff up where I'd suspect the idol in question would see them! I remember a few times during vlives and monchannel before his enlistment he mentioned how mbb keep telling/asking him if he lost weight and he was frustrated with it and insisted that he hadn't. Like he clearly doesn't like these types of comments.

Its true that they all usually lose weight during cb/promotion eras but it seems quite drastic this time.... his cheeks are barely there when he smiles...

[dandylovesturtles]

And here it is, part 4 of the Room Fic! ...or well. part of part 4.

see, Part 4 is going to be pretty long and take me awhile, so I decided to release it on tumblr as I go, in parts. and since we're already in a numbered list, I'll go by letters now. So this is Part 4 Part A!

it's fine, it makes sense!

I'm going to release it here on tumblr in parts, and then when it's all done I'll put it on AO3, and probably do some proper editing and may add/fix some things up once the whole thing is written. So consider this a semi-WIP. but I doubt it will change much because I usually don't change things too much after I finish writing them haha

anyway, hope you enjoy!

content warnings: discussions of food issues, anxiety, aftermath of torture

also, if you're confused, start here!

-----

Raph spots the change in Leo’s train car on the way to breakfast. He stops and tries to make sense of it for a minute, before making his way to the kitchen.

Mikey is already there, as is Splinter, making some tea. “Morning!” Mikey trills, scraping some scrambled eggs into a big platter.

“Mornin’,” Raph echoes back. He meant to sound neutral at worst, but his tone still earns a worried look from Mikey.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’s wrong,” Raph says quickly. “I just… noticed Leo did some redecorating.”

“Oh, yeah…” Mikey chews on his lip. “What’s up with that?”

“I dunno, but it makes Raph uneasy.”

“What is it?” asks Splinter, looking at them each in turn. 

“Leo covered up all his windows,” Mikey tells him.

“Ah, I see.” Splinter sets cups in front of them, followed by the tea pot. “I will go check on him.”

Splinter leaves Mikey and Raph looking at each other uncertainly.

“Why would he need the windows covered?” asks Mikey. “What does he need to hide from here?”

“I dunno, Mike.” Raph sighs. “I guess he doesn’t feel safe yet.”

“But he’s home,” Mikey insists. “He’s with us.”

“Yeah,” says Raph, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I told him to talk to us if anything’s bothering him.” Mikey taps the spatula against the empty skillet. “He said he would, but…”

Raph doesn’t know if he should feel surprised or not. “He hasn’t talked to you about anything?”

Mikey scowls. “Nothing important,” he says.

Raph chuckles. “Well, you are his little brother-“

“I’m not that little!” Mikey snaps, throwing the spatula down and rounding on Raph. 

Raph’s a little surprised by the sudden anger. Sure, Mikey has been insisting on his independence more and more, but this is more aggressive than usual.

“Raph didn’t mean anything by it,” he says, but Mikey doesn’t stop glaring. Raph is saved by Splinter’s return.

“He is sleeping quite soundly,” their dad announces, hopping up onto a stool and grabbing for the platter of eggs. “He was even drooling a bit.” Splinter chuckles.

“Okay, but you’re going to ask about it when he wakes up, right?” asks Mikey.

“No.” Splinter scoops the eggs onto his plate. “If he wants to explain, he will.”

“You don’t think it’s… I dunno. Concerning?” Raph asks.

“It is not hurting anyone. And it has helped your brother sleep. There’s nothing wrong with it,” says Splinter, and it has an air of finality.

Mikey looks unsatisfied with that outcome, but he doesn’t say anything. He fixes a plate for Leo and puts it into the microwave for safekeeping.

Raph isn’t sure where he lands. All he knows is that he sure as heck isn’t going to be the one to ask about it.

-----

Leo comes in about twenty minutes later, after they’ve already finished eating. He’s still wearing his pajamas, one of his thinner throw blankets, with the Jupiter Jim logo, pulled around his shoulders like a shawl. If you focus on his torso, he almost looks like a healthy teenager, thanks to his shell.

But his hands are still drawn and thin where they grip the fabric, his wrists bony where they peek out of his sleeves. His cheeks are still sunken in and his skin hasn’t regained its usual vibrancy. And there’s a subtle shake to his movements, like the effort it took to walk from his room to the kitchen was immense.

Oh, and there’s the absolutely devastated look on his face when he sees the empty plates.

Raph remembers, again, when Leo had practically begged them not to let him sleep through breakfast in the motel, and he feels a sick twist of his stomach.

“Geez, you guys didn’t leave any for me?” he asks, and his voice sounds light and joking and completely at odds with the expression on his face. Raph is pretty sure Leo doesn’t even know he looks like that; their self-appointed face man, who usually has so much control over his appearance, not even aware of how far his heart has slipped onto his sleeve.

“We have you a plate right here,” says Mikey, scrambling to open the microwave. “Want me to warm it up any?”

“No,” says Leo a little too quickly. His eyes stay locked on the plate even as he pulls on a smile that is so carefree it’s in obvious opposition with the rest of him. “I’m sure it’s fine - thanks, Angelo.”

Mikey tries to smile as he hands the lukewarm plate of eggs and toast to Leo. Leo takes it and grabs his fork with urgency he tries not to show. His bites are so steady and evenly paced that Raph bets he could clap the beat out if he wanted to - Leo doing all he can not to look like he’s scarfing.

Okay, so Leo clearly isn’t better yet; it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. Any conversations Raph wants to have about what happened in that room will have to wait. That’s okay - he can be patient.

To keep from watching too obviously, he takes out his phone. April texted the group chat twenty minutes ago, saying she had some homework to catch up on but she’ll be coming over later today. Raph’s glad, because having her around keeps them all in better spirits. He spends way longer than necessary trying to find the exact gif to use as a reaction to the news.

“Can I have another piece of toast?” Leo asks, pulling Raph’s attention from his phone. He’s already eaten the ones Mikey gave him, and about half his eggs. He taps his fork against the empty half of his plate at a quick pace.

Is this the first time Leo has actually asked for something outright? Raph isn’t sure.

Mikey grimaces and checks his phone. “Barry said to give you that much… Oh, but if you’re still hungry, you can have yogurt!”

He opens the fridge to retrieve it. Leo scowls, scooping up a bite of eggs with more force than before, the scrape of metal on porcelain.

“Barry said,” he grumbles. “How long do we gotta listen to that guy?”

“He’s doing a lot of work to help you, Leo,” says Raph. “He seems to know what he’s talkin’ about.”

“Aw, come on. It’s one piece of toast!” Leo leans toward Mikey. “It’s not gonna hurt me!”

His voice is light, almost joking, but he’s doing it again: that sad, pitiful look. Raph is sure he doesn’t know he’s doing it.

It feels impossible to deny that face. Raph looks at Mikey, who looks back at him, both of them equally unsure.

“Well…” says Mikey weakly, glancing back toward the toaster. He’s going to give in, and Raph can’t blame him. Splinter doesn’t step in to help, either. “Barry said…”

Leo smiles. It looks almost manic. “What Draxum doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he says in a singsong.

“What won’t I know?”

Raph jumps. Everyone jumps - some family of ninja they are.

Draxum stands at the foot of the escalator into their makeshift kitchen, arms folded. Raph has to hold back a sigh of relief, and he sees Mikey’s shoulders sag in turn. Leo scowls, whirling to glare at Draxum.

“Oh, come on!” he snaps. “Don’t you have other teenagers to torture today?”

“It’s Saturday,” says Draxum, crossing the room to sit at a chair. “So you have the benefit of my full attention.”

“Auuugh,” Leo groans, slumping dramatically at the table, and ignoring the effect his casual use of the word torture has had on everyone else in the room. Raph feels ill. Mikey looks it.

“Can Blue have another piece of toast?” Splinter asks, cutting through the awkward silence that follows this. He sounds almost annoyed as Leo, but as far as Raph can tell he’s letting Draxum take the lead on this one. Raph wonders if they’ve talked about it without him or his brothers around.

“Hmmm…” Draxum looks at Leo’s plate, considering. “Finish your eggs and yogurt first. If you’re still hungry, you may have another piece. But only if you’re hungry.” His expression turns even more stern, leveled directly at Leo. “Do not eat if your stomach is full. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“I’m not gonna make myself sick,” Leo argues.

“Hmph,” says Draxum, the short noise coated thick in disbelief. He doesn’t say anything more. Leo goes back to his rhythmic eating.

Raph grabs the empty plates from Mikey and Splinter and takes them to wash. Anything to keep himself from staring at Leo. And it’s his lucky day: there’s a whole stack of a distraction waiting for him in the sink. He runs the hot water and gets to work.

“Morning, family,” comes Donnie’s sleepy voice a few minutes later. Raph doesn’t look, and he doesn’t have to, because Donnie characteristically beelines straight for the coffee pot on the counter. Raph knew he went to his room after their talk in the lab the day before, but he’s not sure how much sleep Donnie actually got.

He leans sluggishly against the counter and checks his phone while the coffee brews. Raph keeps his focus on the dishes. Leo finishes his eggs and Draxum agrees to half a piece of toast - Mikey scrapes his stool against the floor as he jumps up to make it.

Donnie fills his mug and immediately takes a drink with no fear of scalding his mouth. Then he turns around and says, “Why’d you cover all the windows in your train car, Leo?”

Raph fumbles and drops the dish he had just pulled from the soapy water - thankfully it doesn’t break on the way down. Next to him, Mikey freezes. The toaster dings into the silence.

“Oh, that,” says Leo, nonchalant. Raph doesn’t turn around, so he has no idea if his face matches his tone this time. “I was just trying to envision how the room would look with curtains.”

“Using towels?”

“What can I say, I’m a visual guy.”

“Hmm…” Donnie pushes off the counter and disappears from Raph’s view. “Well, did you decide you want curtains?”

“Uh, yeah… I think it would really up the feng shui in the joint! And our old rooms didn’t have any windows, so too much light gets into the train car when I’m trying to sleep, anyway.”

The argument rolls so naturally off Leo’s tongue that Raph is impressed.

“Okay,” says Donnie simply. “I can install curtain rods in your room later. I actually have some leftover scrap metal that I’ve been trying to find a purpose for, and I think it will work well for this.”

“Really? You’ll do it today?”

“Yes. I don’t have anything else on my to-do list… that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Leo chuckles, but he sounds genuinely happy when he says, “Thanks, Dee.”

“And I have some leftover fabric I can sew into curtains,” Splinter adds. “You can use them until you’re well enough to find some you prefer.”

“Yeah? You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, Blue! It will be a nice little project to keep my old hands busy.”

“Thanks, Dad,” says Leo sincerely. There’s some shifting around like he’s getting an ever-coveted Splinter Hug. It lasts a beat longer than those hugs normally do. Raph can’t blame his dad - if he could, he’d pick Leo up and never let him go again.

He hears a clink next to him and turns his head. Mikey has buttered Leo’s toast, but now he’s standing still, a pensive frown on his face, the butter knife clenched in his fist.

“Hey, Leo,” he says, turning around, and Raph senses danger. He turns around, too, watching as Mikey approaches the table. “Is that the only reason you want curtains?”

Leo looks between the toast and Mikey’s face. He tenses up, the empty yogurt cup crinkling in his grip. “Yeah, that’s all,” he says.

“Are you sure?” Mikey asks. He still has the half slice of toast in his hands. Leo’s eyes keep catching on it.

“What’s there to be sure about, Miguel?” he asks. “It’s just curtains. Lots of people have ‘em.”

“It’s just that you never said anything about it before. And now suddenly you need curtains today?” Mikey’s hands wave and take the toast with them - Leo’s eyes track the movement. “You told me, if anything is-“

“Michelangelo,” says Splinter sternly, making everyone jump for the second time this morning. “That is your brother’s toast - give it to him.”

Mikey seems to remember the food in his hands at that exact moment. He grimaces, quickly depositing the toast onto Leo’s plate. Leo’s face has that sad, desperate quality to it again as he grabs the toast in his fingers, like he has to make sure no one else will take it.

Mikey backs away from the table, crestfallen. The silence that ensues is uncomfortable again.

“Uh… well I think the curtains will look great!” says Raph. “Snazzy!”

Snazzy? Oh Pizza Supreme in the Sky help him.

“…Thanks, Raph,” says Leo, and takes a bite of toast. It doesn’t have the same warmth from before, and the awkwardness is thick now.

Raph dries the dish he has in his hands and sets it on the counter, pops the drain plug, and quicksteps for the doorway.

“I’m going to do my morning training!” he calls, to convince everyone, especially himself, that he isn’t running away.

-----

Leo sits alone in his dad’s recliner, staring very hard at the opposite wall and willing himself not to barf.

The piddling amount of eggs and toast he ate at breakfast would not have been enough to fill him up even three weeks ago, but now it’s stuffed his shrunken stomach. The truth is, he’d been full when he bargained with Draxum for another piece of toast, but he hadn’t been willing to let the fight go.

Besides, he doesn’t know when he’ll get food next. And better to be overfull than hungry.

He’s being dramatic, of course. He’ll get food at lunch… probably. No, definitely, because he’s home and his family would never deny him food.

Except, the way Mikey had held his toast and demanded answers about the curtains…

Leo really thought he had gotten away with it, too. No one said anything until Donnie did, and Donnie had seemed completely convinced by Leo’s casual responses! But of course Mikey saw through him. Mikey’s as keen when it comes to people as Leo himself is, but where Leo uses that insight to manipulate and obfuscate, Mikey uses it to tear open, to expose.

Leo will have to watch out, next time. He can’t let half-thought through excuses stand between him and food.

Not that they’d actually keep food from him. Because they love him and they’re his family. He’s just being weird again.

Still…

His stomach gurgles uncomfortably, and Leo grips the arms of the chair. He really doesn’t want to throw up. Besides the mess he’ll make of the recliner, and the unpleasantness of the sensation, he doesn’t want to lose everything he ate earlier. He still doesn’t know when he’s going to eat again. If he loses it here, he’ll truly have nothing.

“Blue? Are you alright?”

He turns his head. Splinter is standing by the chair, looking up at him. It occurs to Leo he didn’t actually ask if he could sit here, and he starts to push himself up.

“I can get in a beanbag-”

“No no, it’s alright,” says his dad, hopping up onto the chair to join Leo. He does it so lightly the recliner barely jostles. “You’re alright, Blue. Just breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

Leo does as he’s told, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He wonders how his dad seems to know the problem without having to be told - from raising four children alone, most likely. After a moment, he feels the chair move, the back reclining and the footrest coming up under his legs. Then furry hands gently tug his blanket from around his shoulders and spread it out over his whole body.

“There we go,” says Splinter after that’s done. “Are you comfy, Blue?”

All Leo can do is give a tiny nod of his head; anything more aggravates the nausea. It seems Splinter understands, though, as he hums approvingly and hops off the chair.

“What’s wrong?” asks a new voice, and Leo grits his teeth. He doesn’t move from his spot, though.

“Blue just needs some rest,” says Splinter.

“He ate too much, didn’t he?” Draxum asks, tone irritated. “I told him not to have more unless he was actually hungry-”

“Stop,” Splinter commands, in that firm tone that can’t be argued with. “We will talk about this later.”

Leo wonders if he’s included in the we. But Draxum grumbles something under his breath and retreats, leaving Leo and his dad alone again.

“Don’t worry about him,” says Splinter, moving to turn on the projector. “I’ll deal with it. You just get some rest, Blue.”

He turns on one of his stories on low volume, then climbs back into the chair and settles in beside Leo. The soft whir of the projector, the quiet voices of the actors, and his dad’s breathing lull him into a doze. The nausea, eventually, passes.

-----

After his workout, Raph goes to check on everyone again. It’s becoming a routine.

Splinter’s loud snores lead Raph to him and Leo, both sound asleep in the recliner in the TV room. Raph would wonder how Leo can sleep through that, but he remembers that their dad’s snores used to be piped directly into his room in their old lair. If anything, this is probably nostalgic for him.

Draxum’s in the kitchen. Apparently they’re stuck with him for the weekend. Raph decides not to say anything to him and slips away before he’s noticed.

Now to find his other little brothers. He heads straight for the lab first, already knowing it’s where Donnie would be at this time of day, even if he hadn’t promised to make curtain rods for Leo.

He has to go through the same song and dance as the day before with the voice lock, but the door slides open soon enough, and Raph walks in on an argument. At least he won’t have to go searching for Mikey.

“-don’t understand why you’re so worked up about it,” Donnie is saying. He’s bent over his workbench, goggles pulled down, soldering iron in hand but not on. “It’s just curtains.”

“Because everyone’s acting like it’s not weird!” Mikey argues. He spins on his heel, looking at Raph beseechingly. “Raph, you agree with me, right!?”

“Raph just got here,” Raph says, folding his arms. “Mind filling me in on what we’re arguing about?” Even though he already has a good guess.

“We aren’t arguing,” says Donnie, at the same time Mikey snaps, “Leo, duh!” Donnie sighs, raising his goggles and turning around.

“Mikey is upset that I’m making Leo the curtain rods he asked for.”

“I’m not upset about the curtain rods! But you’re all acting like this is totally normal!”

“Curtains are normal!”

“Leo asking for the curtains is not normal,” Mikey presses. “What does he even need them for!? We live underground!”

“He complained about the light coming through the windows.”

“And he never thought to mention it once over the months we’ve been living here? Come on, Donald, use your brain!”

“Excuse you, I am always using my brain-”

“Leo’s got insomnia, Mikey,” Raph interjects. “Maybe a totally dark room helps him sleep better.”

“He had insomnia in the old lair, too,” Mikey retorts. “And he’s so tired right now all he does is sleep! He was sleeping in the TV room when I came in here!”

Raph doesn’t have a response for that. And the thing is, he thinks he has an idea why Leo wants to block out his windows, and it has nothing to do with his insomnia. But he doesn’t know how much to tell Mikey now. Not without bringing up the security footage.

Maybe Donnie has the same thought, because when Raph glances his way their eyes lock. 

Of course, Mikey notices. Because Mikey is just as observant as Leo, when it comes to people.

“You guys know something,” he says, looking between them.

“No,” says Donnie, too fast.

Mikey pouts at him. “Donald.”

“Leo hasn’t told us any more than he’s told anyone else,” says Raph.

“But you know something. How could you…” His eyes go wide. “The security footage. Donnie copied it all.”

“Well, I did,” Donnie agrees, “but-”

“You guys watched it, didn’t you?” Mikey asks, but it’s more like an accusation.

“No,” says Raph, and now he’s the one who says it too quickly.

Mikey squints at him, then looks back at Donnie, weak link that he is. “Donnie, did you watch that security tape?”

“I did…n’t,” he says, characteristically unconvincingly. Raph groans.

“I knew it!” Mikey lunges for Donnie’s computer, and it’s only Donnie’s battleshell arms that stop him from getting to the keyboard. “Let me see it too!”

“Mikey, stop!” says Raph, coming and putting a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. He winces when it’s shrugged off. “We’re not gonna watch the video.”

“Why not!?” Mikey demands, ripping himself out of Donnie’s metal arms and jumping back from both of them. “Why can’t I see it!? You both got to!” He looks between them with wild eyes, and then his face falls. “It’s because I’m the youngest, isn’t it?”

“No,” says Raph. “It’s because we both decided not to watch any more for Leo’s privacy.”

“For Leo’s privacy?” Mikey doesn’t look convinced. “Raph, he’s hurting! What if what’s on those videos can help?”

“What if watching them hurts him more?” Donnie defends. “He’ll find out we watched them, and then what?”

“He’d understand!”

“Would he?” Donnie sounds doubtful, and Raph can’t help but doubt it, too.

Even Mikey falters. He’s quiet a moment, wrapping his arms tight around his middle.

“...I don’t want him to suffer,” he says finally. “I want to help him.”

“We all wanna help him,” says Raph.

Mikey turns his eyes on Raph, and they’re full of fear and doubt and uncertainty. “You won’t even talk to him,” he says. It’s damning and cold and worst of all, true.

Raph takes a shaky breath, trying not to show his broken heart. “Listen. All Raph’s saying is, it’s barely been three days since we got Leo back home. Let’s give him time. Hopefully he’ll open up about all this stuff on his own.”

“...Fine. I won’t watch the video,” says Mikey. But he steels his expression, defiant. “But I’m going to keep trying to help him.”

“Just don’t push him, Mikey-”

“I won’t! I know what I’m doing.” He gives them a smile, but it’s weak compared to his usual. “Trust me, guys. I’ve got Dr. Feelings on my side!”

He turns and leaves the lab, the door sliding shut with a reverberating shunk behind him. 

Donnie slumps in his chair. “At least it’s not Dr. Delicate Touch.”

Raph laughs at that. It’s about all he can do.

-----

They feed Leo lunch. Of course they do. He doesn’t know why he keeps thinking they might not.

Of course, Draxum is still there, looking over his shoulder like a warden to make sure Leo doesn’t eat so much as a bite more than he’s meant to. It makes the whole experience stressful, and Leo is ready to crash again as soon as it’s over.

(Is this all his life is now? Long periods bogged down in exhaustion, only broken by the reminder that food is always controlled by someone else.)

He hasn’t been dozing for long this time when a shout echoes through the lair, grabbing his attention.

“Hey guys!”

“April!” yells Mikey, springing up from the beanbag he was sitting in. He’d been there for a while now, looking intently at his phone, but Leo never asked. Probably a new game or something. “Come on in!”

She enters the living room, a bag with a familiar comic store logo hung over her arm. She gives Mikey a one-armed hug before making her way around the chair to hold the bag out to Leo.

“Here you go!” she trills. “I picked it up as soon as I got done with my homework.”

Leo takes it, baffled. He reaches into the bag, gripping something rather large and hard-covered; pulling it out reveals…

“…The Jupiter Jim Sixtieth Anniversary Comic Special!?” Leo cries out loud. He lays it in his lap, reverently brushing the cover with his fingers. “It came out!?”

“Uh, yeah, today.” April laughs. “Don’t you remember? You made me set, like, three different reminders.”

Leo stares at the comic book, feeling a strange sort of disconnect. He can remember when he thought about this comic coming out once a day, at least - he’d been counting down the days from the preorder. But… he actually hasn’t thought about it once since…

At some point, he stopped looking forward to the comic. Because he didn’t think he would be here to read it.

But he is here. He’s alive. Time is still moving forward, and the proof is his long-awaited comic book, finally in his hands.

(Maybe his life still has a few good things to look forward to.)

Leo may be tired of crying, but crying isn’t tired of him - the tears come on hot and fast as he processes all of it at once. The grief at what was almost lost and the impossible relief that it wasn’t.

He rubs furiously at his eyes and sniffs aggressively. Then he looks up at April with the best smile he can manage and holds out his arms.

“Thanks, April.”

“Of course!” She beams, not commenting on the tears, and gives him a hug that is tight and warm and everything he wants. “Now you don’t have to keep texting me about it.”

Leo laughs as he lets go. It’s still a little watery, but she doesn’t comment. “Well what are we waiting for? Wanna read it together?”

“Uh, duh!” April shoves him to the side without any force and settles in next to him on the chair. “I heard they brought back all the old comics characters for this!”

Leo nods excitedly, eyes rising to meet Mikey’s. “How about you, Mikester? We can do the voices!”

Even though he knows his voice won’t hold out for more than a few pages.

“Oh yeah!” says Mikey. “Just let me-”

He looks down at his phone, and Leo catches it as his expression changes - something on the screen taking his attention and causing him to furrow his brow.

“Aaactually,” he says, looking back up with a forced smile. “I have… something I have to do. Somewhere else! But you guys have fun!”

And then he disappears down the escalator toward their train cars.

Leo watches him go, then turns back to look at April. She’s craned her neck to watch, too, a worried pinch to her eyebrows behind her glasses.

It clears up when she catches Leo looking. “Welp. Guess it’s just you and me, then!”

Leo rubs his fingers over the cover again. His desire to read it disappeared with Mikey. Donnie’s busy, Raph’s avoiding him, and now Mikey has more important things to do.

At least April is here. He worms himself a little more solidly against her warmth and hopes he doesn’t drive her away, too.

“Let’s do something else for now,” he says. “Save this bad boy for when we can all read it together.”

April’s eyes go wide. “You sure? I don’t think the guys would mind…”

“Uh, no, Donnie would definitely kill me if I read anything with Atomic Lass before him.” Leo gently sets the comic aside. “Besides, how are we gonna do the voices with just two of us?”

“What, you’re saying I can’t handle it?” April asks, a challenge in her voice. “I bet I could do a one-woman show.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that!” Leo laughs, and it’s only because April is here that it’s genuine and not forced. “But I don’t think I could stay awake for the whole thing, anyway.”

“Well… fine.” April relents. “Anything you wanna do instead?”

“Mmm…” He hands her the remote. “It’s been awhile since we judged people on Say Yes to the Dress.”

“Ooo, you are so right!” April flips on the projector and starts loading up the episodes. “Hold on, let me find where we left off.”

Soon, the sounds of over-dramatic reality TV fill the room. Leo shifts until his head is tucked under April’s chin, and she scratches her fingernails over his shell as they watch. They give their opinions on the dresses and jeer the catty friends and family members.

It feels so normal. The most normal Leo’s felt since he woke up in a room that was nothing but white.

It proves to him that things can be normal.

(But still, in the back of his mind, he wonders when his next meal will be.)

-----

Raph isn’t sure how many more tense dinners his family can survive.

They’re eating beef stew, partly so Leo doesn’t feel like the odd one out with his soup. Except he’s still the odd one out, because they have big chunks of beef and veggies while he has mostly broth with easy to swallow carrots, and some more egg for protein.

Raph hates eating in front of him. It feels like rubbing it in. But would taking their food and leaving him to eat alone be any better?

Probably not, because Draxum would still be watching him. And that’s the biggest source of tension.

Draxum is sitting at the table like the rest of them, but he might as well be looming over Leo’s shoulder. Leo himself stays hunched over his bowl of soup like he thinks it’s going to be snatched away at any moment, eating with quick, furtive movements, his eyes darting to Draxum each time.

It’s the exact opposite of his measured eating from this morning, and even more unsettling.

April is here, thank the Pizza Supreme, and she’s trying to keep the conversation going so they don’t all dwell on the bad vibes from Leo’s direction. Only Splinter is biting, though. Raph tries, of course, but…

He’d take fighting a villain a million times over this.

“Oh yeah, Donnie, Leo said you and Splints are making him curtains for his train car,” says April, grabbing Raph’s attention. “How’s that going?”

Across the table, Mikey’s expression turns conflicted. He focuses his eyes on his food and doesn’t catch Raph watching.

“Oh, it’s going well,” says Donnie, “but I didn’t have enough spare metal to finish. I’ll go to the scrapyard tomorrow and see what I can scrounge up.”

“Hmm… I do not like the idea of you going alone,” says Splinter hesitantly. “We do not know if those people will come back.”

No one has to ask what people he’s referring to. Still, Donnie looks irritated.

“Papa, it’s just the scrapyard,” he argues. “I’ll be back before it’s dark.”

“Still…”

“I’ll go with him!” says Mikey suddenly, raising his hand to volunteer. “Then he won’t be alone. Buddy system!” He slaps his raised hand down on Donnie’s shoulder. 

“Ow,” says Donnie in a flat tone, reaching up and shoving him off. “Despite the unnecessary assault on my person, I’m amenable to Micheal accompanying me.”

“What’s “amenable”?” Leo asks in a stage whisper. 

(It’s the most like himself he’s sounded all day.)

“I think it’s what you say at the end of a prayer,” Mikey stage whispers back.

(Raph can help his smile. He hides it behind his napkin.)

“It means I’m fine with it,” Donnie snaps. “None of you read my Word of the Day texts, do you?”

“Only ‘cause it’s words no one uses,” Leo scoffs. “Seriously, who even uses words like “sanctimonious”?”

“Lots of people!”

“Lots of nerds?”

Donnie glares at him. “You are so lucky we’re having a nice dinner right now, Nardo.”

Leo snorts and refocuses on his soup. He has a big, cocky grin on his face, and it’s all so normal that Raph feels something unknot in his chest. Maybe, Leo really is starting to get better. 

And then Splinter says, “I also need to go out tomorrow… It’s been so long since we got groceries, I couldn’t even eat my usual microwave burrito for lunch!”

And just like that, the normalcy is ripped away again.

Leo’s eyes snap up, locking on their dad, unblinking. His knobbly fingers press tighter around his bowl, pulling it closer to him like he’s scared someone will snatch it away.

“We’re running out of food?”

He sounds so scared that Raph can’t stop himself before he’s reaching over. Just to put his hand on Leo’s shoulder, to give him a hug, if he wants. Anything he needs to calm down, to not look so terrified.

But Leo must misread the action, because he jerks away, gripping the bowl impossibly tighter, eyes blown out wide and a just noticeable tremble in his shoulders. Like he’s scared of Raph.

Raph pulls his hand back without making contact and hunches in his chair, as far away as he can get from Leo without leaving the table. Or maybe he should just get up and leave. How can he be around his little brother when he’s scared of him like this?

“Ah, no,” says Splinter, and this has finally broken his easy-going tone. “There is still plenty of food, Blue, don’t worry.”

“…Hah. Right. Of course there is,” says Leo.

His voice is high and reedy, his face twitching like it’s trying to force itself back into the big smile from earlier but just doesn’t know how to move its muscles. “Why wouldn’t there be?”

Splinter reaches out hesitantly and gives Leo a pat on the arm. Leo flinches, his grip on his bowl still tight, and Splinter retreats again.

“Hey, Pops,” says Raph, drawing attention off Leo. “I can go with you tomorrow.” 

They can get more food with more hands.

“Oh, thank you, Red,” says Splinter, relieved. “That will make things much easier to carry.”

“Sure,” says Raph. Then he upends the rest of his stew into his mouth and swallows it all as fast as he can before standing up.

“Welp, I’m done with dinner so I’m going to get a workout in before bed night everyone!”

And then he’s out of there. Running away from the haunted shell of Leo.

He doesn’t know what to do with a little brother who ducks away from his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with a little brother who covers windows and hides from his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with a little brother who looks up at him and says, “That’s not what a hero would do.”

Raph is a big guy and he’s never been good with fragile things. So maybe the best thing he can do for now is stay back and let those with deft hands take the lead.

Even if it’s not what he wants.

What he really wants to do is go back to that facility. Find the men that did this to Leo. And then…

Raph lines up his punching bag and swings. Over and over and over, until his fingers sting.

-----

They’re leaving him here. They’re leaving him alone.

Alone with Draxum. 

Leo wants to protest. He wants to beg them to stay. He wants them to not want to leave him to begin with.

But Splinter said they haven’t gotten groceries in awhile. And even if he claims they aren’t running out of food, Leo is terrified of what happens if they do.

So he doesn’t ask his dad to stay. He keeps his mouth shut, focus on his bowl of soup, depressingly empty next to everyone else’s.

But Donnie… Donnie doesn’t have to go to the scrapyard tomorrow, right?

Yeah… Leo can survive the lack of curtains for another day. He slept just fine with his makeshift window blockers last night, after all. He appreciates that Donnie wants to get it done quickly, but there’s no need.

“Hey, Dee,” he says, looking up, and realizing too late that he just interrupted something April was saying. Everyone goes quiet, anyway, and he feels the suffocating weight of everyone’s eyes on him.

His mouth goes dry.

“Yes, Leo?” Donnie prompts when he doesn’t say anything. He looks confused, and concerned. They all do. Because it’s super weird for Leo to say something and then fall silent. Just like it would be weird for him to beg Donnie to stay because he’s afraid of being alone with Draxum.

“Just, uh… excited to see the curtain rods,” he says, pivoting to a neutral topic. Maybe no one noticed. Maybe he was quick enough.

Donnie’s face lights up the way it does when anyone wants to see his handiwork, which is good. Leo likes making his brothers happy. Pizza Supreme knows he hasn’t been good at it lately.

“Of course!” he says, practically bouncing in his seat. “I’ll show you after dinner!”

“Can’t wait.”

Conversation moves on. Leo finishes his soup.

“Are you still hungry?” Draxum asks, making him jump. “Do not lie to me, this time.”

“Draxum,” says Splinter in a warning tone. But that’s all he does. He doesn’t offer Leo more food. He doesn’t argue that Leo wouldn’t lie.

They haven’t been grocery shopping in awhile.

“…No,” Leo says, twisting his napkin in his hand. “I’m full.”

-----

“I focused on the windows directly around your bed to begin,” Donnie says as he leads Leo into his train car, a bounce in his step as he pushes past the curtain. “To help you get a good night’s sleep. And Dad already hung what curtains he had finished, so you can even see the final result!”

Leo steps into the middle of the room and looks around. The curtain rods are simpler than he expected, simple things fastened to the wall, able to be unlatched so the rods can be removed and the curtains swapped out. Every windows’ brackets are slightly different, a testament to the scraps Donnie used to make them, but Leo likes that - this hodge-podge, improvised way of home decor has always been their style. It has a charm you can’t get in a normal house.

Donnie has also painted the rods a gunmetal blue, and some of the brackets have Ls etched into the metal. It’s little details like that that leave Leo touched.

The curtains themselves are just black fabric, sewn so they can loop over the rods and be pulled aside when desired. It’s simple and quick, but they represent hours his dad spent today at a sewing machine, just to help him sleep.

Leo feels himself getting a little teary again, and he quickly blinks it back. He doesn’t feel like crying today.

“It’s so cool, Dee,” he says, and his voice is genuine; he catches Donnie flap his hands in a pleased way out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks. This will really help a lot.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you like them!” Donnie is all smiles, and it makes Leo smile, too. “I wanted to make them more elaborate, but I thought time was of the essence. I would have been done today, if I hadn’t run out of materials.”

“No way, man, you got a lot more done today than I thought you would.” Then again, Donnie always has been quick, even more so since he got his powers, so Leo shouldn’t be so surprised. “What else could you even do to them? Add AI?”

“Oho, don’t tempt me.” Donnie reaches up and taps one of the brackets with a nail, making a soft ping. “Then you could open or close all the curtains with voice command!”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good using my hands.” He spins to take the room in one more time, then claps his arm around Donnie’s shoulders.

(The pang when his arm hits the metal shell is more jarring than it used to be.)

“Seriously, hermano. Thanks.”

Donnie doesn’t pull away quite as quickly as he used to. “Well. Save any more thanks until I finish with the project. Which should be soon, after my scrapyard run tomorrow!”

Right. The scrapyard. This is when Leo should bring it up. This is the perfect time.

He can just ask Donnie to stay. To put it off one more day, work on something else. Here, in his room, just the two of them, he doesn’t think Donnie would refuse him. He doesn’t think Donnie would make fun of him. He doesn’t think Donnie would call him weird.

“Actually, uh…”

He remembers Donnie taking his cracker and eating it.

“Hm?” Donnie turns out of his arm and looks at Leo, confused. “What’s wrong?”

He remembers Donnie’s reaction to the chewed up bottle cap.

“Leo?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, rubbing the back of his head. “Just… be careful, okay? We don’t know if those EPF guys have come back.”

Donnie’s face drops into a more serious expression. “Right. Don’t worry - I’ve taken precautions.”

“What precautions?”

“I’ve updated the software on all our trackers. If they leave the city limits, or if a third party attempts to interfere with the signal, they’ll immediately send an alert to everyone’s phones.”

“You don’t think that’s a little… excessive?”

Donnie folds his arms over his chest. “Not if it keeps everyone safe.”

Leo doesn’t know how to argue with that.

“I am working on a way that we can each override it, though,” Donnie adds. “We wouldn’t want to scare each other if we leave the area on purpose. And I have plans for even more enhancements that can-”

“Eugh boy.” Leo motions Donnie toward the door. “I’m way too tired for speech mode, Dee. Maybe later?”

Donnie scowls. “Exasperated sigh. There is never a “later” with you.”

Leo laughs. “You got me!”

“You could really stand to pay attention and learn something… But, alright.” Donnie steps toward the curtain. “I will let you get away with it this time, only because you’re still recovering.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.” But Donnie gives him a grin on the way out. “Goodnight, Nardo.”

“Night, nerd!”

As soon as Donnie’s gone, Leo sinks onto his bed and puts his head in his hands.

He couldn’t ask Donnie to stay. He couldn’t, because it would be weird and strange and bad. And now he’s going to be left alone with Draxum.

Will Draxum even let him eat? What if he decides Leo’s had enough…?

It’s a stupid thought. Of course Draxum will let him eat. Otherwise, Leo’s family would… do something!

Right?

He thinks about Donnie taking the cracker again. His pulse quickens.

He can’t go without food again. He can’t. He doesn’t think he would be able to take it.

But if no one else is going to give him food, then… then…

Leo takes a deep breath and steels his resolve. He knows what he needs to do.

He grabs the curtain on the nearest window and pulls it over, just a crack - just enough to see the lights outside, to see when they dim as the rest of his family goes to bed for the night.

And he waits.

-----

By the time Raph finally leaves the dojo, it’s dark in the lair, with only some safety lighting and a few neon signs still on. He can hear his dad snoring from the TV room, the projection flickering on the end card of a show, and as he passes their extra train car he sees Draxum inside, working on something under a desk lamp. Mikey and Leo are both in their rooms, from what he can tell, and Donnie must be in his lab.

He’ll go on his rounds in a bit; first, he beelines for the kitchen for water and a nighttime snack.

He’s quiet as he walks up the escalator, knowing exactly which steps creak and squeal and carefully avoiding them. He doesn’t want a conversation right now; not with his wrapped knuckles and sweat-soaked mask dangling from his fingers.

The kitchen’s dark when he arrives, and he fumbles around for the switch, missing it a few times. It’s so different from the layout of the old lair, and he’s not usually the first one in the kitchen in the morning.

He finally flips on the light, and finds he isn’t the first one in the kitchen tonight, either.

Leo stands frozen by the counter, eyes wide and panicked when they meet Raph’s. In his hands he’s clutching a half-full bag of chips, sour cream and onion, the plastic crinkling and snapping where he grips it tight. He looks like a terrified, wild animal, drowning in one of his own hoodies and stancing up like he’s ready to bolt. Like he’s doing something wrong, getting a snack in his own house.

Except… he kind of is doing something wrong. And that’s what breaks Raph’s heart.

But what is Raph supposed to do here? Tell Leo he can’t eat that, the same as his captors did? Try to explain to him why he can’t have it, when Raph barely understands the reasons himself? Rip the bag from his weak hands, and prove to Leo once and for all that his family can’t be trusted?

Raph is supposed to be the biggest brother. The one who always knows exactly what to do, exactly how to help, who protects his three little knuckleheads from a world that wants to hurt them.

But he doesn’t know what to do about this. It’s just not in his playbook.

He’s never been good with fragile things.

Raph reaches over and flips off the kitchen light. He goes back to the escalator, and dodges the squeaky steps. He goes to his train car, and pulls the curtain over the doorway.

He pretends he didn’t see.

-----

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A (here) | Part 4 Part B (not out yet)

[mrs-monaghan]

Tbh I'm a jikooker, but I find it incredibly difficult to fit a healthy long-term relationship into the same timeline as all of jimin's solo work. It's not the pronouns or taking one lyric very literally, its the entire thing, plus comments from him and his producers. To me, you'd have to do some serious olympic level mental gymnastics to make that make sense. I don't doubt that jikook have a special bond, I've definitely seen things between them that definitely look like sexual attraction to me and things that surpass friendship boundaries, but I can't in good faith say that they're together in some official long-term way if I actually listen to jimin and his work.

I've seen some jikookers think they broke up for a while, but I have to question if those people have ever been through a breakup because the little bit of distance/separation/awkwardness we did see from them during chapter 2 is nothing compared to the type of tension that would be there if a relationship that intimate and intertwined had separated, especially considering the dark feelings jimin was feeling. He wouldn't have been cutely commenting on jungkook's lives and jungkook wouldn't have been asking to hang-out or getting excited to see jimin in his comments.

Idk, I'm sure someone could twist everything a certain way and only take certain things at face-value and then make everything else abstract, etc. to make the case that they are together, but I don't really see it. You look at face-off, alone, and just his general dark feelings during Face, then look at the creation of Muse and how him and his producers said he couldn't relate to the love-dovey beginning songs, which is how they ended up making Who (despite the fact that jikookers try to distance him from the song since he doesn't have writing credits even though he sat in the recording room telling them what he wanted and saying it felt like reading his diary). I think jimin could have very well gone through a pretty awful breakup along with the inner turmoil he was going through post-covid, but I don't think it was with jungkook if he did. I still enjoy jikook's bond either way at the end of the day, but yeah I don't really get how anyone can take an honest look at jimin's work and his words and think he was in a long-term healthy love-of-his-life relationship during that time or into chapter 2.

Not trying to change your opinion or anything, honestly I don't really see it discussed much in jikooker spaces (besides bad-faith stuff like tkkers stirring up shit over pronouns in lyrics which is just dumb) and when it is, some jikookers are pretty pick-and-choose about what they deem to be true to jimin's feelings and what isn't. Which I get being nuanced, but sometimes it does feel like a "well this fits my beliefs so clearly this is true to jimin and this doesn't so it means nothing because he didn't write it" or whatever. I honestly get annoyed with the bad-faith arguers because it prevents being able to have actual discussions about some of this stuff in our little jikooker corner of tumblr. Like "he said her, he's clearly straight! he danced with a girl, straight!" stfu.

I don't have much to say to you anon. Not really. Not anything that hasn't been said anyway. Which you've seen and decided its jkkrs doing mental gymnastics. "I'm a Jikooker but..." its never a great way to start a sentence. It just gives major insecure jkkr vibes which i just 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬 you either believe in them or you don't. There is no if, and or buts.

I will leave you with this; over the years, antis and (insecure) jkkrs alike have always found a way to conclude Jkk aren't as close anymore or they broke up or some other bullshit. But what happens everytime Jikook resurface and we see them together again?

NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!

Nothing ever changes with these 2! They come back closer, more in sync, happier, more in love and their relationship more established than ever. This happens every👏🏽damn👏🏽time👏🏽 Everytime!

Then the insecure jkkrs will be like "jkk is real" again.

And then we will go without content for a while and once again we are back here with the jkk aren't as close argument. Once again. It is an exhausting cycle that I refuse to be a part of.

You can try and nit pick various reasons as to why Jikook aren't in an established rlship, but I will chose to focus on reasons why they are definitely 130000000% in a relationship. Like the fact that they are enlisted together rn, the fact that they could have done AYS with other members but chose eo. Or the fact that Jimin wrote his name on JK's chest with sunscreen and I dont even want to imagine how he did that. What position they were in that would justify people calling them brothers 😂

You do you anon. I'mma just be over here enjoying Jimin promote the hell out of his favourite JK song.

Tweet

Look at him so proud of his man 🥺🥺

[azrielbrainrot]

I'll Be Here

Pairing: Azriel x Healer!Reader

Description: You feel a little out of place at a celebration in the House of Wind and a certain Shadowsinger comes to the rescue.

Word Count: 3605

Warnings: None

Notes: I had this stuck in my head and decided to just write it down. I'm not really a writer so bear with me please. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Masterlist

It's hard to keep an eye on how much wine you drink when the glasses get refilled magically. You've heard that this house has a consciousness of its own. Maybe it can sense your growing anxiety and keeps filling your glass in hopes of helping ease your mind a little. The more you drink the more worried you get, the thought that getting too drunk will only put you at a higher risk of embarrassing yourself having infiltrated your brain and pushed all the rational thoughts out. Big gatherings aren't exactly your cup of tea and the fact that this one was personally hosted by your High Lord didn't exactly help ease your nerves.

You've visited the House of Wind before but always as a part of your duties. Though it was because of your duties you were invited to this dinner so maybe you could add this attendance as part of your job. The High Lord and High Lady decided to invite notable people in Velaris for a night of celebrating the thriving city. After losing its High Lord for decades and the war that followed his release, Velaris went through some tough times but with the help of its people - most of them gathered in this space tonight - the city was once again prospering.

As a healer you usually see the High Lord and his Inner Circle in a state of emergency, when your abilities are needed and there's usually no time for formalities or worries. Every time you encounter them outside of those situations you never know what to make of yourself. You wouldn't say you're completely inept at social situations but you're definitely a lot better at handling them when they involve your patients and you have a job to do, something more important to focus on than choosing the right thing to say.

Your relationship with the Inner Circle is professional albeit friendly. It's hard not to feel your heart warming at the cupcakes the General insisted on buying you for helping heal his wings even after explaining that you actually only helped on his recovery process. Every time he drops by the clinic to pick up any herbs or ointments he insists on buying you one - though you suspect it's also an excuse to get one for himself - and when you see him out and about he demonstrates how healthy his wings are, having done it just before dinner when he was in charge of flying you up to the house. The painting the High Lady personally painted for you, as an acknowledgement of your efforts during the war, hangs right behind your desk in your office at the clinic and is one of your most important possessions.

This would be the kind of relationship anyone would kill to have with their employees - friendly acquaintances. But, since you were there for some of their most intimate moments and helped them through them, you never know how to act when you're not doing your job. You can't exactly call them your friends, even putting the fact that is your High Lord and High Lady aside, outside of work you only exchange some pleasantries whenever you bump into them. However there's too much knowledge for you to act completely professional after decades of nursing them and their family back to health. It feels awkward to shake their hands when they have hugged you with tears in their eyes, thanking you for saving their family.

There's also the tiny detail of the crush you've harbored on the resident shadowsinger ever since you first laid eyes on him. On top of trying to walk the line between friends and strangers with everyone else, you also have to be careful with not letting the observant Spymaster find out about the beat your heart skips when you see him. Making things awkward because of a silly crush is the last thing you need.

It's that reminder and the monumental effort you have to make not to let your eyes search for him that has you finally sneaking out of the room, deciding to find a quiet place to sober up. The House had fed you too much wine, and you still had to be flown back down at the end of the night. You'd really hate to throw up on Cassian's fancy suit. He probably wouldn't buy you cupcakes ever again.

You remember some of your surroundings after decades of being called in for emergencies, quickly finding one of the huge balconies overlooking the city. The fresh air grounds you almost immediately. You can still hear the muffled sounds of the ongoing party but the quietness of the mountain lets you get lost in thought. As much as you enjoy the liveliness of the nightlife in Velaris, you infinitely prefer the quietness and freedom only the woods or mountains at night can provide. When it's only you, the moon and the stars, and the world stops.

You don't know how long you sit there for, leaning on the railing and looking into the distance, wondering why your healing abilities work on some forms of poison but not on sobering you up. Your head only comes back to earth when you hear a familiar voice calling out your name behind you. You turn around fast enough to make you a bit dizzy, leaning back against the railing with wide eyes.

“Didn't mean to scare you,” the shadowsinger explained, “I just noticed you were gone from the room.” You spot the way he's bringing his wings closer to his body, making himself smaller, if that were even possible. Azriel made you feel a lot of things but you hadn't felt scared of him in decades, ever since the first time you met him. If you hadn't been already tipsy and distracted thinking about him you wouldn't have reacted so dramatically.

Realizing the spymaster of this court had just found you wandering around his house unattended, you rush to apologize and give him an explanation.

“I'm sorry. I needed some fresh air and remembered there was a balcony around here. I shouldn't have left the party without permission.” You make to move back, showing you were ready to go back to the party but he raises a hand and takes a step closer to you, stopping you before you can.

“You're not a stranger to this house. No need for permission,” he took another tentative step towards you before continuing, “Do you feel better now?” You relax back against the railing, your heart beating fast for a whole different reason now. It's not often you get to see Azriel out of his leathers and you barely had a chance to see him up close tonight, he looks mesmerizing.

“What?” Maybe you didn't sober up as much as you thought. Maybe being this close to Azriel was just an intoxicating experience in itself. Either way your brain was having a hard time catching up to his words and your chest was starting to feel warm.

“You said you needed some fresh air.” There's a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. Probably realizing that you weren't actually going to be sick. His shadows peak behind his shoulders, following their master as they usually do.

“Yes. It was just getting a bit stuffy in there.” Aside from the butterflies creating a hurricane in your stomach, talking to Azriel feels right. His calm demeanor lets your thoughts quiet. “I might have drank too much because of the nerves.”

The Shadowsinger moves until he's leaning against the railing next to you. His eyes wander the illuminated city slowly before meeting yours. Stretched wings hang in what you assume is a less straining position after having to be pulled tighter into his body in the crowded room. Shadows start rolling off his shoulders, now lazing around him instead of covering him. The soft wind moves his hair ever so slightly, letting a few strands curl around his forehead and giving him an almost boyish look. It's not often you see the spymaster appear relaxed. You decide it might be your favorite look on him.

“Nerves?” Your eyes search his face once again after hearing the confusion in his voice. Azriel has a permanent seat at the High Lord's table not only as the Night Court's Spymaster but also as someone Rhysand considers family. This night isn't so different from every other dinner he shares with his family, just more crowded.

“I've never been to this house outside of my duties. It's a bit nerve-wracking to be personally invited by the High Lord.” As you finish speaking one of his shadows curls around his ear. You've learned they do this when they're speaking to him. The thought of it being about you has your heart speeding up. Only the Mother knows just how much those shadows can see and hear, if they can hear your thoughts. You check your mental shields just in case. They can be as terrifying as they are beautiful.

“Rhys and Feyre couldn't have thrown a party celebrating the strength and courage the people of Velaris have shown without one of our best healers. You've helped more people than we could ever thank you for.” The warmth you felt in your chest before was now spreading up your neck at an alarming rate. You had just been doing your job but being recognized for it felt incredibly rewarding. The fact that this praise came from the shadowsinger was making you especially giddy. “Rhys invited you because you're very important to this court, to us.”

“I am?” The question comes out before your brain has a chance to catch up. You try not to cringe at the surprise in your tone. It's not that you're not aware of your capabilities, the High Lord and High Lady either call for you or for Madja, one of the most powerful and wise healers you have ever seen. But old insecurities will always show their claws, indifferent to your achievements. To think that you could be important to all these extremely powerful people seemed like the punchline to a joke.

“Of course.” His body turns to you ever so slightly. Fingers uncurl as if he wanted to reach out, comfort you. “None of us would be here in good health if it wasn't for you, maybe not at all. You've helped us more times than I can count.”

“I was just doing my job. And I can't take credit for Madja, I'm usually just assisting her.”

“Even so, you've helped us through a lot.” He sounded very sincere, there was no denying he meant every word, but you still have a hard time believing it.

“I just don't think I really fit in here,” you whispered so low that if it wasn't for his fae hearing he wouldn't have been able to make out the words. The admission felt heavy in the air, it felt good to let it out. You hadn't been this honest with anyone, perhaps even yourself, in decades, you must have drank way more wine than you initially thought.

You weren't born in Velaris, but you've lived here for a century. The problem is you've spent the better part of that century waiting on feeling like you finally belonged. You never felt at home in your own court or in your family so it might have been wishful thinking that it would happen here.

“I think like that sometimes too.” As baffled as you were to hear that coming from him, he looked even more surprised than you. It seems he hadn't meant to say that out loud, but the words couldn't be taken back now.

“That's insane,” you try to level your voice after the outburst, "You're part of this family. Why wouldn't you fit in?” You couldn't let him think like that, there was no doubt in your mind everyone here loved and cherished him like family.

Rhysand's inner circle was known for how close they were, they were seen as the High Lord's family regardless of if they were blood related or not. Azriel has always been calmer and you know he likes to keep to himself but you never thought he looked out of place for a second. It's hard to imagine Rhysand and Cassian without his brother.

His eyes were trained on the city under you. His shadows had come back to him, almost covering him completely. Azriel was quiet for a while, long enough you thought he wouldn't even give you an answer. But then you feel a shield form around you, lest someone wanders in and hears his next words.

“Sometimes things and people change while you stay stuck in the same place,” his eyes meet yours as he talks and you search his expression for the rest of the story you know he won't tell. If there's one thing you hate about the shadowsinger is his ability to mask his emotions. His face was the perfect stoic mask as always.

It's not hard to understand what he meant. In less than a decade the inner circle almost doubled and some of the dynamics had likely changed with it. His brothers have found their mates, something every fae dreams of, and he was the odd one out. Even the Morrigan and Amren had found lovers in recent years.

You had heard some rumors he had taken a liking to the middle Archeron sister after pining for the lovely Morrigan for centuries, but she had also found her mate. Not even his methods of interrogation could make you admit you were avoiding the entire inner circle during that time. The hope you had felt upon realizing he wasn't looking at Morrigan like she hung all the stars in the sky was short lived and it only made you feel pathetic. You didn't understand why it had affected you so much. This was just a silly crush after all, you had never considered actually pursuing a relationship with the shadowsinger.

“I still don't understand how Amren got a lover before you.” You had meant to clear the heavy air between you but why your brain decided to use the millennia old creature to do so was beyond you. “I mean she's just…” you continue, startled by your own words, praying to the Mother that the shield he put up stopped Amren from hearing you, “Well, she's fae now but wasn't before and is still mildly terrifying, even after the transition, and you're so-” Wide eyes meet hazel and nothing could ever prepare you for the look on his face. The amusement shone bright in his eyes and in the teasing grin he wore. Just when you thought the shadowsinger couldn't get any more beautiful.

“I'm so?” He tilts his head a little as he asks the question. His shadows start almost dancing around him, like they can't wait to hear your thoughts on their singer. You clear your throat before continuing, trying to salvage some of your dignity.

“You're the Spymaster, the only known Shadowsinger. That's incredible, anyone would be lucky to have you.” Something flashes in his eyes and your mouth starts back up at the thought that it could be disappointment at the impersonal description. Azriel is much more than his role in this court and you can't let him think that's all you see in him.

“You're also one of the kindest people I've ever met. I've seen you worry over every single person in that room, putting their needs over your own even when you're also injured. You always keep your composure for them and give them your support. I've seen you around Velaris too, you're always respectful to everyone, even when they're a bit scared of you.” Eyes drag themselves back to the shiny stars in the night so you can keep going without wanting to jump off the balcony and making an even bigger fool of yourself. “Even as far as looks go... I would bet my house that if we walked down any of these streets we wouldn't find anyone that doesn't think you're stupidly handsome.”

“Stupidly handsome?” The amusement was dripping down his voice at this point. The smile was unmistakable in his tone and you couldn't hold yourself back from watching him any longer. You feel yourself relax at the grin plastered on his face. It isn't often that the shadowsinger shows any emotion at all, and you can't help the pride in knowing you put that gorgeous smile on his face, especially after the somber turn the conversation had taken earlier. You continue despite the warmth you feel in your ears, you'd compliment him for hours if it meant he wouldn't feel sad ever again.

“I've actually heard someone use those exact words to describe you.” You've thought it to be the most accurate description of the immense beauty the shadowsinger radiates ever since you heard the barista use it. Apparently she hadn't been born in Velaris and had taken up the job only a few days prior to serving the illyrian. She had barely held the compliment down long enough for Azriel to exit the building, shooting up into the sky. A few fae present couldn't contain the laugh at the fervent appreciation of the shadowsinger, but the air of agreement shared by everyone was unmistakable.

“I'll have to let my mom know,” there was laughter in his tone, “I'm sure she will be very proud that her son is receiving such compliments.” You hadn't known his mother was still alive which makes you think it's meant to be kept secret. You almost curse at the way your heart flutters. Stupid crushes.

“I'm sure she is very proud of you regardless.” He doesn't give away any hint of what might be going through his brain and it leaves you in a slight panicked fear of overstepping or having said the wrong thing. You could swear you saw a glint of disbelief but it was gone too fast for you to be sure. The idea that the Spymaster couldn't see his own mother being proud of him was ludicrous to you.

The nod he gives you doesn't give any of his thoughts away, but his shadows keep moving slowly around the balcony, never rushing to cover him.

“Why are you single then?” You know he's changing the subject but you don't have time to consider that when you realize it's your turn to answer the questions.

“Me?” You barely register the slight nod he gives to show you he's expecting an answer. If you had shadows of your own they would have wrapped around you like a blanket until only the top of your hair was peaking out. “How do you know I am? Are you using your spies on me, Spymaster?”

“I have to be well informed of what happens in this city,” he searches your face just like you did to him, “And as the spymaster I'm more than familiar with deflection. You don't have to answer my question. Tell me if I'm overstepping”

“No. It's-” you cringe, trying to find the right words. “I just never found anyone special I guess.” Even talking about this with him has your heart swelling in your chest and you pray to the mother he can't pick up on any changes in your heartbeat. You've been avoiding this conversation with family and friends, but despite all this you know Azriel will understand and won't make fun of your feelings. It feels safe talking to him. “I get really busy sometimes so it's hard to keep up a proper relationship, even with friendships. Sometimes people need more time than what I can give them.” You try not to think of all the times you didn't measure up to other people's expectations, when they didn't see you as enough for the trouble.

“They're idiots for letting you go.” You don't know if he's being polite in not mentioning how your heart keeps speeding up or if he thinks you're drunker than you are, but you thank every deity you can think of that he doesn't say anything.

“Some things just aren't meant to be.” You hope he doesn't insist on this conversation. There isn't much else to say and you'd rather not keep talking about how many times you'd gotten dumped. You consider pointing out he never gave you a reason for being single and that he was the one actually deflecting, but you don't want to push what clearly isn't an easy topic for him to discuss either. You suspect Azriel barely opens up with anyone, so you'll just treasure the brief look into his heart he allowed you before.

The rest of your night is spent with the shadowsinger, sitting in that balcony, watching the stars and talking about anything. The next day you'll sit in bed mortified, thinking about how you were doing most of the talking while he listened, but he had seemed content enough so you couldn't have been too annoying. When the party ended you had said your goodbyes to your hosts, without the previous nerves after your conversation with the shadowsinger. Feyre had even asked you if you were alright because she also noticed you leaving in the middle of the party, though something about the glint in her eyes told you she had gotten the wrong idea. Then Azriel had flown you down the steps and winnowed you to your front door - even though you could do it yourself. Maybe you'd have to rethink calling the inner circle your friends.

[lumiolivier]

Treasures and Tragedies

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 7476

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

It's Crocodile's week to have you all to himself. It's getting to the end of the week...and you feel more like it's getting to the end of your life...

You wanted to hide.  It wasn’t often you wanted to hide away from your boys, but today was a day to hide.  You were up in the middle of the night while Crocodile kept an arm around you, making sure his hook was out for the world to see.  Just in case someone were to make their final mistake.  And you knew then something wasn’t right.  Something didn’t feel right.  Any other night, Crocodile would have you drenched in sweat.  The man was a space heater.  Of everyone you slept with on a regular basis, you didn’t need much for blankets with Crocodile.  But that was the thing.  You couldn’t get warm to save your life.

You carefully slipped out of Crocodile’s grasp and made your way toward the bathroom.  If he asked, you got up to pee.  Nothing to bring attention to yourself.  Nothing he would ask questions about.  Everything would be fine.  But when you got to the bathroom, you gripped onto the sink for dear life.  Your short walk from the bed to the bathroom was enough to turn your legs to jelly.  And if that wasn’t enough to turn your already not great stomach, the room decided to start moving on its own, too.  You knew it.  Deep down in your heart, you knew.  You were getting sick.

And in your throat.  And your lungs.  And anything else that decided to reject its existence.  If it could hurt, it did.  And it was utter hell.  But not nearly as much hell as you’d be in if the men in your life were to find out.  As much as it’d suck, you dragged yourself down the hall to your room, leaving Crocodile alone in the bed you both once shared.  That’s when you finally felt safe.  And proceeded to violently throw up in your own bathroom.  After you were done, you violently shook on the cold ceramic.  Your chills made your back tighten up and in that moment, you wished for the sweet release of death.

“I do not envy you…”

You jumped at the unexpected voice floating above you, “Perona, what the hell are you doing in here?”

“You think I didn’t hear you yakking in here?” Perona perched herself on the edge of your bathtub, “How are you sick?  Don’t the boys keep you wickedly healthy?”

“Mostly,” you gently nodded, “But regardless of how great my immune system is, even I can still get sick.”

“Poor baby…” Perona put a hand to your back, “You need to get back to bed?”

“Mmhm…”

“Here,” Perona helped you onto your feet and held you steady while you shuffled back to bed, “You want me to wake Mi-”

“No!” you pleaded, a few coughs escaping your throat, “Perona, no.  Please.  I know your heart is in the right place, but please.  Don’t tell anyone I’m sick.  Don’t tell Mihawk.  Don’t tell Buggy.  Don’t tell Crocodile.  Just keep this between us.  As far as you know, I caught my period before I could stain the sheets, so I just came in here.  All I need is to get some sleep.  The more I can get, the quicker I’ll get better.  I do not need to have the boys hovering over me and treating me like I’m going to break if they look at me cross eyed.  I don’t need that.  Please, Perona, if you love me even a little bit, you’ll keep your mouth shut about me being sick.”

“I won’t say a word,” Perona promised, “But you know how they are with you.  Someone’s bound to find out eventually.  Even when you’re not sick, they’re up your ass in some way.”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, “I know.  But they’re going to have to not be clingy with me today.  Just let me get back to sleep.”

“Alright,” Perona let it go, “Is there anything I can get for you?  Do you need anything?”

“I’ll be alright,” you crawled into your bed and got comfortable.  As much as you could at that point, “But thank you, Perona.  If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright,” Perona left you alone to get your rest. 

And as much as you trusted her, you had a feeling she was going to say something to someone.  To the wrong person.  And you were going to end up having someone on your ass about being sick.  But you shut your eyes and left that to be a problem for future you.  For now, you were going back to sleep.  And praying to all things holy and unholy that once you were awake, you would feel a million times better and this was just a weird dream.

When you started to come to again, you heard assorted chatter at your bedside.  And a cool washcloth on your forehead.  You didn’t remember putting that there last night.  Not when you fell asleep almost immediately after your head hit the pillows.  But you had to retrace your steps.  You had your conversation with Perona.  You felt like you were going to die.  You were miserable and frozen, but you were appropriately wrapped up in blankets.  Nowhere in there did you remember putting anything to your forehead.  Nor do you remember inviting company.

“And she wakes…” The second your eyes opened, you knew you were screwed, “Good morning, Princess.”

“Mmm…” you sunk down into your blanket cocoon, the sun shining far too brightly from the window.

“You don’t ever wake up before I do,” Crocodile’s hook ran down your cheek, “And on the off chance you do, you don’t ever come in here.  Which begs the question…”

“What brought you in here, darling?” Not only were you screwed, but you were double screwed.

“I…” your voice gave you away.  You couldn’t write this off on a period.  That didn’t mean you weren’t going to try, “I got my period last night.  And I came in here.”

“You don’t get your period until the end of my week, doll.” Scratch that.  You were triple screwed.

“So,” Crocodile thought, “Other than that fever of yours, what brings you into your room?”

“I’m not running a fever,” you lied through your teeth, “It’s just freezing in here.”

“No,” Mihawk swapped out your washcloth, “Try again.”

“Alright.” Because you didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore, “I came in here last night.  I threw up a bunch.  I went back to bed.  Happy?”

“I think I can speak for everyone,” Buggy sat on your bed, “No.  Not at all.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, YN?” Crocodile asked, “At the very least, me.  Hell, I was right there.”

“Because I knew this would happen,” you brushed them all off, “Because I knew you three would blow it out of proportion and, cough, cough, I don’t need that.”

“We’ve never blown anything out of proportion when it comes to you, treasure,” Mihawk cradled your cheek in his palm, “And you’re staying right here until you’re better.  If we have to, we’ll be the ones to make sure you get that way.”

“He’s right,” Buggy agreed, “You’re precious to us, too.  You’re falling apart at the seams, doll.  We can take care of you, too.”

And that’s what worried you.  But you’d be lying if you said your boys coming together for your sake didn’t warm your heart a little bit, “Alright.  I’m not going to fight it.  But you three have to make me a promise right here, right now.”

“Anything, Princess,” Crocodile insisted, “What do you need?”

“You don’t hover,” you ordered, “I know you three are going to try and give me the world and it’s only going to wreck yourselves in the process.  It’s not worth it.  Got it?”

The three of them shared a glance that always put a knot in your stomach.  You weren’t sure if it was a good one or a bad one, but you knew that look.  Deliberation amongst the three of them.  You always thought they could read each other’s minds, but it was scarier yet.  They read each other’s faces.  They could have a full conversation without you hearing a word out of any of their mouths.  But they did eventually come to an agreement.

“Alright, YN,” Mihawk nodded, “Understood.  But we have demands of our own, too.”

“Come on, Mihawk…” you whined, stirring up another bout of coughing, “I’m sick.  Aren’t I the one who gets to be making those demands?”

“In this case, no,” Mihawk put his foot down, “We’re essentially the only doctors you have here, darling.  If there’s anything we decide you need, you’re getting it.  Whether you want it yourself or not.  Can we all agree to that?”

“Mmmm…” you groaned, burying yourself deeper in your blankets.

“Buggy,” Crocodile ordered, “Go call a supply ship and make an order.  You know what we need.”

“On it,” Buggy left a little kiss on your forehead and took off for the office. 

“Mihawk,” Crocodile began his declarations, but he was quickly shut down with one look from Mihawk.  He knew better than to bark orders at Mihawk.  He wasn’t overly thrilled about it, but he understood.  Regardless of the Cross Guild setting up shop here, it was still Mihawk’s house.  Crocodile didn’t respect many people in this world, but he could respect Mihawk, a fellow warlord who more than earned his station.  And if not for that fact, it was because of you.  Seeing the respect and admiration you had for Mihawk made it contagious.  The only thing Crocodile didn’t respect was the furniture.

“You need me for something, Crocodile?” Mihawk asked, not a drop of condescension in his tone.  Because that respect was mutual.  No matter how much they may occasionally bicker.  Besides, that’s what they had Buggy for.  Buggy was where their irritations went. 

“No,” Crocodile shook his head, “We’ll let YN get some more rest.  I’ll take the first shift with her.  Go ahead and do what you need to.  If anything at all.”

“Thank you for your permission,” Mihawk retorted, already on his way out.  But not before leaving you with a soft little kiss on your forehead, “If you need anything, darling, don’t hesitate to ask.  Any of us.”

“Thank you, Mihawk…” you shut your eyes for a moment or two before you were right back to sleep.  But you knew something was going to happen.  There was no way you were going to be left alone for the day.  You weren’t going to get that lucky. 

Still, you felt like you were dying.  So, what if your boys felt like doting on you a little bit?  That was their prerogative.  And even though it got under your skin, it was nice to know someone cared.  It was nice to have several someones care.  And you loved them for it.  And if it wasn’t obvious before, they loved you, too.  More than anything in the world.  And it would show no more than when you were sick.

A little later in the day, when you woke up from your first nap, you felt another wave of nausea hit you.  And it hit hard.  When you opened your eyes, you noticed Crocodile taking a nap in your chair.  A cup of tea sat on your nightstand, but things were about to get messy.  As much as you wanted a drink from that tea (that was likely still a little warm), you went straight to your bathroom and proceeded with another round of violent retching that, much like it had earlier that morning, left you shaking again.

“YN?” And you may have woken up Crocodile in the process, “You ok, Princess?”

“Do I look like I’m ok?” you glared up at him from the floor, your head resting on the toilet seat.

“I asked a question,” Crocodile’s tone shifted, “I didn’t ask for you to snap at me.”

“Crocodile,” you sighed out, “Sweetheart, I love you.  You know I do.  But right now, I am not going to be sunshine and lollipops.  Do forgive me.”

“I know, I know,” Crocodile scooped you up into his arms.  And you reveled in his warmth, his strength.  You wanted nothing more than just a little time with Crocodile.  Just to be close.  If this is what it meant every time you were to go throw up, then so be it.  When he put you back down in your bed, he noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks, “What’s that all about?”

“What?” your voice broke.  Was it because you were just throwing up or was it something else?  You hardly realized you were crying.

“No…” Crocodile sat on your bed and let you curl back up in his arms, “No, no, no…What’s the matter, YN?”

“I don’t know…” you wept.  Even though you were perfectly aware.  You didn’t want Crocodile to go.  You didn’t want him to go back to your chair.  You wanted him right there.  You wanted him to be within arm’s reach.  You wanted him to be around you.  And just the thought of him walking out of the room kicked your tears up even worse.  Which only made your coughing even worse than that.

“Must be your fever,” Crocodile put a hand to your forehead, “Still kind of high.  But I think it’s breaking.  We’ll call that a win.”

“Please,” you clung to him, your tears soaking through his shirt, “Don’t go.  Please…Don’t leave me.”

“Shh…” Crocodile ran his hand through your hair and down your back, “Don’t you worry, Princess.  I’m not going anywhere.  I got you.  But you’re due for another round of medicine soon.  And you know what that means?”

“Hmm?”

“That means I’m going to hand you off to either Buggy or Mihawk,” Crocodile gently broke the news to you, “I’m not saying I’m leaving right now, but someone’s going to have to handle the supply ship when it comes in.”

“But you said I had medicine,” you remembered, “I thought we were out this morning.”

“That was this morning,” Crocodile pointed out, “YN, you’ve been out for a while.  We’ve had a supply ship come in already.  We’re waiting on another one.  There were some things we forgot the first time around.  I’ll take care of that one.  You’ll be alright with someone else.  I’m not sure who won that game of rock, paper, scissors, but you won’t be alone.  I promise.  Ok?”

“Ok.” You loved Buggy.  You loved Mihawk.  But right now, there’s no one you wanted more than Crocodile.

“It’s alright,” Crocodile assured you, “I’ll be back.  And if you need me, all you have to do is yell for me.  Ok?  You know I’ll come running.”

“Thank you,” you nestled your tear stained face into Crocodile’s ribs. 

“Of course, Princess,” Crocodile held you close, “Of course, I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“Crocodile,” Mihawk stood in the doorway with a pair of tablets in his hands and a glass of water, “Buggy’s looking for his fishnets, so I have YN’s medicine.  I’ll take the next shift.”

“She’s a little clingy, Mihawk,” Crocodile wasn’t letting you go, “I appreciate you bringing her medicine, but I don’t think she’s going to let me go anywhere.”

“If that’s the case,” Mihawk put your water and medicine down on the nightstand got in your bed on the other side of you, “I guess I’ll just have to be here, too.”

“I got her, Mihawk,” Crocodile kept his arm around you, “Go ahead and do whatever.  I’m sure your protégé is looking for you for yet another futile sparring match.”

“No,” Mihawk pushed your matted hair out of your face, “He left a few days ago.  I’m surprised you didn’t get your own licks in.”

“With the rest of the Straw Hats here?” Crocodile laughed, “No.  I don’t have a death wish.  And I’m sure if I even thought about going near their captain, your son, but not your son would be the first to drive the nail in my coffin.”

“Hey, guys?” you spoke weakly, hoping to break up the potential fight brewing between them, “Can we not talk about dying when I actually feel like I’m dying?  That’d be wonderful.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk left a little kiss on top of your head, “We didn’t upset you, did we?”

“No,” you let a few coughs out, “But I really do feel like shit.  And I’d rather you two didn’t try to kill each other in my bed.”

“Alright,” Crocodile let it go, “But truly, Mihawk, go.  I have her handled.”

“Fine,” Mihawk got up from your bed, “If you need anything, YN, you know where to find me.”

“And I’ll probably send Crocodile to find you,” you giggled a little, “Because there’s no way in hell either one of you are going to let me get up for anything other than the bathroom.  And even that’s iffy.”

“Get some rest, darling,” Mihawk covered you up a little more, “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you cracked a little smile and curled back up with Crocodile.  And you shut your eyes again.

But that’s when the medicine kicked in.  And your fever started to take hold of your brain and put it in a paint shaker.  When you shut your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your brain turned into colors.  Swirling shades of blues and greens and shades of gray only to have them fade into pinks and yellows and all the pretty colors of the sunset.  And you were perfectly content.  Until it turned.

Your beautiful, cold medicine and fever concoction turned violent.  The sunset went away and turned into black and red.  And an empty room with a cold, cement floor and red splatters all over the place.  You looked around the room and found a heavy chain around your wrist.  All while you noticed dead bodies on the floor still twitching.  A voice echoed through the room.  Your fault.  Your fault.  Your fault.  And it only got louder and louder until you finally realized who those bodies were.  And how you were soaked to the bone in blood that was not your own. 

“YN…” you felt your body shake, “YN, wake up…”

Your heart was about to beat out of your chest when your eyes opened back up.  Thankfully, still living and breathing, Crocodile held you tight, doing his best to get you to calm down.  But when you looked up at him, you felt the tears pouring out of your eyes, “Crocodile…You’re ok…”

“Of course, I am, Princess,” Crocodile pinned you to his chest and let you cry it out, “Of course, I am.  I’m not going anywhere.  You know that.  I’ve already shooed off Mihawk and Buggy and Perona today.  I told you before you fell asleep.  I am not going anywhere.  What happened?”

“I…” you wept, “I…I killed you…And Mihawk and Buggy.  Everything was so nice, but then…”

“Shhh…” Crocodile cradled you in his arms, making sure nothing could get to you ever again, “It’s alright, YN.  It’s alright.  It’s all over now.  You just had a little nightmare.  It’s ok.  It’s all done.  I promise.”

“I hate it,” you snarled, “I fucking hate it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Crocodile settled you, “But it’s done now.  You don’t have to think about it anymore.  I know you’d never kill me.  You know you’d never kill me.  It’s ok.  I forgive you.”

“Really…?” your bloodshot eyes looked up at one of the men you loved more than anything and held so dear and most definitely didn’t want dead.

“Really,” Crocodile let you get comfortable in his shoulder, “You know, YN…It’s been a while since I held anyone like this.”

“When was the last time?” you wondered, not really seeing Crocodile as much of the cuddly type.  Except when you were involved.

“If we can keep it between us,” Crocodile began.

“Of course,” you swore.

“I had a baby like this,” Crocodile sighed out, getting lost in a nostalgic haze, “He was sick at the time, too.  His father was out looking for medicine, but there wasn’t much where we were at the time, so he had to go on an honest journey for the sake of finding a doctor who could get us some.  And he cried so much.  He hurt so much.  And of course, he didn’t fully understand what was going on, so that just made it worse.  And there was nothing more I could do.  Broke my heart to hear him scream like that.  But he did get better.”

“What happened to the baby?” you asked, nestling further into Crocodile’s embrace.

“He ended up going to live with his grandfather for a while.  And I didn’t see him for a long time until he popped up in Alabasta.  He doesn’t know how well connected we are, but…” You saw a strange sadness fall over Crocodile’s face.  Only for him to snap back into taking care of you mode, “That was a long time ago.  And nothing you need to worry about.  Just go back to sleep, ok, Princess?  We need to get you better.”

“And I will get better,” you cuddled into him, letting him know that with as much as he’s there for you, you’re there for him, too, “That’s what I got you for.”

“That’s right…” You didn’t know it, but you might have made Crocodile’s day with that statement, “Now, get some sleep or your next round of medicine is going in you as a suppository.”

“So demanding,” you giggled deliriously, “Maybe I want it that way.”

“You are a special kind of freak, YN,” Crocodile hugged you tight, “Just get some sleep.  Ok?”

“Okie dokie…” your delirium took over.  And then, your delirium took you under. 

When you started to come to a little while later, you felt yourself in someone else’s arms.  That was not Crocodile anymore.  And your heart immediately started racing.  Not only were you moved, but Crocodile was no longer there.  You thrashed and freaked until you realized the sound around you.  Splashing.  Water.  Bathroom.  Bathtub?  Bathtub.  Bathroom.  Your bathroom.  The same place you had thrown up earlier that morning.  What were you doing there?

“It’s alright, darling,” Mihawk cradled you in his chest, “It’s alright.  We didn’t want you slipping into the water and you had thrown up on yourself earlier.  You’re ok.”

Your heartrate started to settle and you became much more acutely aware of the horrendous taste in your mouth.  It was ok.  Everything was ok.  And yet, you had one question burning in your mind, “Where’s Crocodile?”

“Taking care of your sheets,” Mihawk told you, “I’m hoping this bath breaks your fever a little, too.  It’s almost there.  We just need it to drop another degree or two.”

“Ok…” You weren’t upset to be held by Mihawk.  But you missed Crocodile’s warmth around you.  You missed the softness.  You missed the tender way he held you…

“YN…?” Speak of the devil, Crocodile poked his head into your bathroom, “I thought I heard your voice in here.”

“I’m here…” you replied weakly, “Sorry for throwing up on you.”

“No need for that, Princess,” Crocodile brushed it off, “You didn’t even throw up on me.  Your bedding can’t say the same, but it’ll be alright.  That can be washed.  You can be washed.  And I’m sure Mihawk’s more than accommodated you in that respect.  Hasn’t he?”

“Yes, he has,” Mihawk nodded, “And everything has been entirely pure and innocent, Crocodile.  I’m not breaking any rules here.  She’s sick.  We’re taking care of her.”

“Everyone except Buggy,” Crocodile pointed out.

“Where is Buggy?” you wondered.

“I’m surprised he was with you as long as he was this morning,” Crocodile admitted, “The guy’s got a thing about germs and getting sick.  It’s the performer in him.”

“I think that’s the first time you called him a performer,” you giggled, letting a few coughs out, “instead of a narcissist.”

“Is he not a little full of himself?” Mihawk scoffed, “Come on, YN.  You know him, too.”

“Just a little,” you shut your eyes again, “But that’s ok.  I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

“Really?” Mihawk looked at you like you were on drugs.  But in your defense, you kind of were.

“Mmhm…”

“You’re delirious, Princess,” Crocodile got a towel for you and scooped you out of the water, “Come here.  Let’s get you back to bed.  As much as I love seeing you hot, wet, and naked, this isn’t the right context.”

“Love you, too, Crocy…” you rolled into the towel and got comfortable right where you belonged. 

Crocodile gave a grateful nod to Mihawk, who had to get his own towel.  Crocodile was a sweetheart to you.  But you were also you, “Crocodile?”

“What?” Crocodile turned on his heel.

“I know you’re going to bring her back to bed,” Mihawk thought, “But pray tell, which bed are you putting her in?  I’m sure hers hasn’t been properly cleaned yet.  And if it has, there’s no way it’s dry.”

“I have it all taken care of, Mihawk,” Crocodile rolled his eyes, “You think I don’t know how to take care of YN when she’s sick?  Or anyone for that matter?  I did it with him.  I’ll do it with her, too.”

Mihawk looked at Crocodile strangely, “Him who, Crocodile?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Crocodile kept a tight lip as he brought you back to your room.  However, you weren’t going to your bed.  Because as Mihawk suggested, there was still a wet spot on the edge of your bed where you were presumably laying when the incident went down.  No, no.  You were brought into Crocodile’s bed.  But you couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Crocodile,” you spoke softly, “Why are we here?”

“I’m not putting you back in your bed,” Crocodile gently lowered you back down to the mattress, “It’s still a little wet.”

“But what about you?” you wondered, “I don’t want you getting sick, too.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Princess,” Crocodile settled you, tucking you in his massive bed, “You just need to worry about getting better.  And even that, we have taken care of.  I’m going to get you a t-shirt, ok?”

“Ok.” You always did love sleeping in Crocodile’s t-shirts.  You always drowned in them and made you feel little and dainty.  Much like sleeping with Crocodile did.  He babied you.  And you weren’t mad about it.

“Here, sweetheart,” Crocodile came back with a gray t-shirt just for you and helped you in it, “Go back to sleep, ok?  I’ll go get your medicine and when I get back, you’re taking it.  Got it?”

“Yes, sir…” you gave him a little fake pout as you nestled down in his bed.  And after you popped your next round of medicine, you were back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms. 

**********

“Thank you for coming.  I know it was short notice.”

“Of course.  I have an obligation to help those who need it.  And clearly, she’s been in rough shape.”

“We’ve been doing all we can for her, but it feels like she’s not getting any better.”

“Well, she’s not running a fever anymore, so we can chalk that up as a win.”

Slowly, but surely, you opened your eyes when you felt a foreign pair of hands on your chest, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Excuse me?” the man stared you down, not sure if he wanted to cure you or kill you.  But then, you got a better look at him.  And for a brief moment, you forgot you were already in a committed relationship with three other men.  He was pretty…

“It’s alright, YN,” Mihawk assured you, sitting at your bedside with Crocodile, “I called for a doctor.  He showed up.  And he’s damn good at what he does.”

You knew those knuckles.  You’ve heard stories about those knuckles.  The word death tattooed across them.  And in your current condition, that wasn’t exactly comforting, “Trafalgar Law…”

“That’s me,” he nodded, “Look, I have some medicine on the ship.  By the looks of things, she just caught a tinge of the flu.  She’ll make it, but for the sake of nipping it in the bud, I’ll give her something.  Unfortunately, the quickest way for it to get through her system is intravenously.  Is that something we’re all good with?”

“Yes,” Mihawk agreed.

“Yes,” Crocodile wasn’t much different.

“Hold on.” You, on the other hand, weren’t exactly a fan of the word intravenous.  Intravenous meant needles.  Needles meant pain.  Pain meant you having a not good day.  And you were already miserable.

“No,” Crocodile took your hand, “I know it’s not going to be pleasant, YN, but it’s the quickest way to get you better.  If we agree to this, how long until she’d be a hundred percent again?”

“With a decent night’s sleep?” Law thought it over, “She’d probably be better by the morning.  Completely.  That doesn’t mean she won’t be still a little contagious.  So, I’d suggest the two of you still exercise caution around her.  While I’m getting her meds ready, I can set you both up with a heavy duty round of vitamin C.”

“If it means still being able to sleep with her tonight,” Crocodile thought, “It’s worth it.  Misery doesn’t ever mind a little bit of company, does it?”

“Nope,” you cuddled into Crocodile’s side, “Thank you…”

“I probably should, too, then,” Mihawk sighed out, taking your hand, “Besides, it’s, what, one little tablet?”

“If only,” Law started heading out of Crocodile’s bedroom, “So, that’s a round of peramivir for you and two bags of vitamin C.  A boring day of work, but they can’t all be a bloodbath.”

“Wait a second,” Mihawk started to piece things together, “Did I just sign up for needles, too?”

“You sure did,” Crocodile smirked, “What’s the matter, Mihawk?  Not a fan of needles?”

“I’m concerned for anyone who says they are,” Mihawk admitted, “But yes.  I might not be the biggest fan of needles.”

“Me either,” you took Mihawk’s hand.  Because even in your state, you weren’t going to stoop to Crocodile’s level.  They didn’t have to love each other, but they loved you more than anything, “But we’ll be alright…If it means me getting better and you and Crocodile not getting sick, we’ll get through it.”

“Then,” Mihawk suggested, “Shouldn’t we get Buggy involved, too?”

“No way in hell!” Buggy yelled down the hall, “You two were dumb enough to stick around!  I don’t need that!”

“There it is,” Crocodile found Buggy’s ear sitting behind the cigar box on his dresser.  He held it up to his mouth and let out a guttural growl, “Listen well, clown.  You ever bug my bedroom again and we will have a problem.  Do we understand?”

“Crocy…Baby…” Buggy got defensive, sending his mouth your way, too, “I wasn’t bugging your bedroom, per se.  I was worried about YN, too.  I just wanted to hear what the doctor had to say, too.”

“Then, get your ass in here…” Crocodile winged Buggy’s ear out the door, “Fucking clown…Why do we put up with him?”

But then, you saw a pair of cheeks fly into Crocodile’s room.  And you immediately knew what they were.  It made you laugh, but your laughter made you cough.  Still, it was enough to put a smile on your face.  And that’s all that mattered.  However, Crocodile and Mihawk weren’t nearly as amused as you were.  That didn’t mean they didn’t appreciate the sweet sound of your laughter.

“Buggy,” Mihawk held his face in his hands, “If you sent your literal ass into this room, my foot is about to go into it.”

“Are you threatening me with a good time, hawk eyes…?”

“Buggy!”

“Alright, alright!” Buggy retracted his floating hiney and let those sleeping dogs lie.

Although, when Law walked back in, he couldn’t help but scratch his head, “Did I just see a floating ass in the hallway?”

“We call her Perona,” you joked a bit, “Unless you were talking about Buggy’s ass.  Then, yes, you did.”

“Anyway,” Law just chalked it up to casual stupidity and held three bags in his hand and a few drip stands, “I need three arms out.”

“You mean, you need YN’s arm out,” Mihawk corrected him, “Right?”

“No,” Law shook his head, already prepping your arm for the IV, “I mean, I need three arms out.  Because once I got hers in, you two are getting it, too.”

“And,” Mihawk hoped, “You really don’t have it in some kind of pill form?”

“Not this strength,” Law told him, “The amount you two need is in these bags.”

“I can’t believe it,” Crocodile teased, “You’re really afraid of needles.”

“I’m human,” Mihawk snapped a bit, “Even I have fears and weaknesses…Just happens to be needles.  Fuck off, Crocodile.  No one asked you.”

“Are you going to be ok, YN?” Law asked, tuning the others out.

“Mmhm.” You weren’t thrilled about it either, but if it meant you getting better, then so be it.  You’d suck it up for just a moment or two.

“Are you sure?” Law kept your eye contact, “Because I know these aren’t always pleasant.”

“I don’t want to meet the person that finds genuine enjoyment in getting administered IVs,” you chuckled to yourself.

“Why’s that?” Law glanced over at Crocodile, knowing he was the rock in the room.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you admitted, “I’m no stranger to enjoying a little bit of pain from time to time, but it has to be in the right context.  It has to be cough, cough just the right amount.  There has to be an exit.”

“So,” Law assumed, “You’re into that sort of thing?  Because it sounds like you’ve experienced it a time or two before.”

“Look who I’m sitting between,” you rolled your eyes, “Two of the biggest sadists I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.  Of course, we’ve played around with pain before.”

“And would you look at that?” Law cracked a little smirk, “You’re already a quarter of the way through your bag.  Didn’t feel a thing, did you?”

“What?” you looked down at the needle stuck in your arm and the tube attached to the needle, “When did you do that?”

“Around the time you said you didn’t want to meet the sick weirdo that was into getting IVs,” Law pointed out, “I’ve worked with little kids before, YN.  I know how to distract better than anyone.  I bet I could keep Mihawk from passing out, too.”

“Really?”

“Really?” Mihawk rolled his eyes, “I don’t pass out.”

“Uh-huh,” Law scoffed, “You were just talking about how you had a fear of needles.”

“And?” Mihawk’s tirade continued, “What does that have to do with anything?  It’s like I said.  I’m human.  What?  Am I not allowed to have fears now?  Just because I’m a big, scary warlord means I’m somehow no longer allowed to have emotion?  Fine.  Then, I guess I’ll just sit here and be a stone.  I’m sorry, YN.  I can no longer love you.  And I can no longer get pissed when Crocodile puts scorch marks in my furniture.  And unfortunately, I also can’t draw delight from whenever you punt Buggy’s head down the hallway.”

“But you can shut up and take your vitamin C drip,” Law brushed him off, turning the nozzle on Mihawk’s bag, “I told you so.”

“What?” Mihawk finally realized there was something in his arm.  There was an IV in his arm.  There was a needle stuck in his arm.  And his vision started to go white, “See?  I told…I told you…”

And there he went.  His head flopped onto your shoulder while the vitamin C drip ran through his body.  And of course, Crocodile couldn’t leave that alone, “And I told you so.  How do you do that, Law?”

“I hold a little conversation,” Law explained, “Get someone going on a rant, they’re not going to give a shit about anything else that’s going on around them.  Easy.”

“Did you just treat me like a toddler?!” Mihawk clutched his chest.

“Are you throwing a tantrum like a toddler?” Law wasn’t dealing with it.  He was already out of his way.  He didn’t need to also deal with Mihawk pitching a fit, “Because if I wanted to deal with tantrums, I would’ve stayed with Doflamingo.”

“Maybe I should tell Doflamingo about this,” Mihawk threatened.

“But let’s be honest,” Law jabbed the needle in Crocodile’s arm.  Crocodile, who sat perfectly still and hardly flinched, “Do you really want to deal with Doflamingo?”

“I mean…” Mihawk admitted, “I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t fun to be a little catty with at World Government meetings.  But that’s as far as I really wanted to go with him.”

“You and me both,” Crocodile agreed.

“Now,” Law looked over at your bag that was sucked dry and gently pulled the needle out of your arm, “You’re going to get some more sleep.  By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, you should be alright again.  If you’re not, I’ll come back.”

“Ok,” you got comfortable again, “And since they’re both juiced up on vitamin C, does that mean I can still sleep with Crocodile tonight?”

“Are you serious?” Law stared blankly at you, “You’re still going to have sex with Crocodile in your condition?  Damn, YN.  I’m not sure if I’m impressed by your stamina or appalled at your stupidity.”

“No,” you held your face in your hands, “I meant sleep.  I’m not used to sleeping without another warm body in my bed.  I’d rather not do that.”

“Oh,” Law let it go, “Personally, I wouldn’t advise it, but if it’s alright with all involved, then go for it.  At your own risk.”

“Ok…”

“But…” Law chuckled to himself while Mihawk slumped down after his needle got pulled out, “I think you might need to make room in the bed for Mihawk, too.”

“Not a chance,” Crocodile shot that down immediately, “It’s my week.  Mihawk can wait his turn.  Mihawk, wake the fuck up and get out of my bed.”

Nothing.

“Looks like he’s done,” Law shook it off, “Crocodile, give me your arm.  You’re done, too.”

“The shit I do for you, YN,” Crocodile watched Law pull his needle out.

“Thank you…” And you love him for it, “Thank you, Law.”

“You’re welcome,” Law grabbed his things, “I suggest putting Mihawk somewhere comfortable.”

“That isn’t here,” Crocodile added, scooping Mihawk into his arms, “YN, I’ll be right back, ok?”

“Ok,” you could already feel your eyes getting a little heavier.  All you wanted now was some sleep.  And the fact that you had that pretty doctor taking care of you didn’t hurt. 

“Knock, knock…” Although, while Crocodile was busy putting Mihawk to bed, you had a special visitor, “How you feeling, doll?”

“Hi, Buggy,” you smiled a bit, “Well, I still feel like shit, but I think I’ll make it.  Full recovery.”

“That’s good to hear,” Buggy wasn’t moving from the doorway.  It’s not that he didn’t want to get close to you, but he also didn’t want to get close to you, “So, what are we thinking?  Are you going to be ok by next week?”

“I should be fine by tomorrow,” you assured him, “Don’t worry, Buggy.  I won’t be sick next week.”

“Because,” Buggy sent his hand out to you, gently caressing your cheek, “I have a few new toys in my room that I want us to try out.  And I want you to feel up to it.  Got it?”

“I will,” you promised, “I’ll be fine.”

“Good girl,” Buggy brought his hand back, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take an excruciatingly hot shower.”

“I understand.” Never did you expect Buggy to be the one with a germ thing, but you weren’t going to fault him much for it.  Instead, you decided to shut your eyes.  Just for a moment or two.  You wanted nothing more than to make up for the lost sleep you being sick has caused.  But alas…You still couldn’t get that lucky.

“So, are you dead?” And Perona never really had much for tact.

“I’m not dead,” you groaned, “I’m just tired, Perona.  And in my own special hell.  Can I go to sleep yet?”

“I can’t check up on you?” Perona scoffed, “Honestly, YN.  I thought we had something special, too.  Not just you and the boys.”

“We do,” you threw your head back into the pillows, “But I’m also miserable.  And tired.”

“And don’t think I didn’t hear that crack about you calling me an ass!” Perona pouted.

“That’s great, Perona…” You drifted in and out of consciousness.  And you were perfectly ok with that.

“I’m not an ass!”

“Mmhm…”

“I am a fucking sweetheart, thank you very much!”

“Good talk, Perona…”

“And you are damn lucky to have me in your life!”

“Mmm…” But you were done.  You were going to let Perona continue her tirade, but you were done with it.  It was time for you to go to sleep.  Whether Perona was happy about it or not.  You needed the rest.  In all honesty, if Mihawk hadn’t passed out after his IV, he would’ve gladly shooed her away for you.  But alas, Mihawk had to go and pass out after his IV coming out.  But you weren’t going to fault him for it.  As long as you got to go back to sleep.

“Perona, get the hell out of here.” Much like that, but instead of it coming out of Mihawk, you got it from Crocodile instead.  Although, you weren’t expecting to be fully woken up by it.

“You’re no fun,” Perona pouted, “Where’s Mihawk?  I guess I could go fuck with him.”

“He’s passed out in his bed,” Crocodile reported, “The big baby can’t handle needles, apparently.”

“Poor thing,” Perona grinned, the sadism stirring in her heart.

“You’re the worst, Perona,” you made a little more room for Crocodile.

“I know.” And just like that, Perona was gone.  Likely off to screw with Mihawk in unspeakable ways.  If not Mihawk, you knew she was going to go take it all out on Buggy.  Much like everyone else would.

Your arms went up to Crocodile, quietly begging him to come to bed.  Of course, he couldn’t say no to you.  He crawled back into his bed and you stuck right to him like a magnet.  Crocodile’s giant hands ran idly down your back, “You should be back to sleep already, Princess.”

“I know,” you shut your eyes, “I was waiting for you to get back here.”

“You would’ve been able to sleep without me,” Crocodile brushed you off, “I’m sure whatever Law gave you had some kind of tranquilizer in it.”

“I don’t think so,” you nestled into Crocodile’s ribs, “Crocy…I’m tired…”

“Clearly,” Crocodile chuckled to himself, “Just go to sleep, sweetheart.  Ok?”

“I will…” And so, you drifted back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms, refusing to be anywhere else.  Between Crocodile’s warmth, your general exhaustion, and your medicine kicking in, there was no way you wouldn’t sleep through the night.  You didn’t care about anything else.  You had your blankets.  You had your warlord of the week.  You were done.

Purupuru…

“Yeah?” Crocodile kept his voice down, making sure not to wake you.  Granted, that ship had already sailed, but you were curious, so you kept your eyes shut, “Hi.  It’s been a while, hasn’t it…?  I’d be happy to, but forgive my skepticism…I wouldn’t say we parted ways as best buddies…Look, I can’t really talk right now…Yeah.  She’s been sick for the last day or so.  It hasn’t been pretty.  Kind of reminded me of when we were taking care of Luffy when he was little…I know.  Scared the shit out of me…Yeah, yeah.  She’ll be fine.  We got a doctor to her and he juiced her up with something.  He called it peramivir.  He juiced Mihawk and me, too, but that was just vitamin C…Good.  She needed something strong…Thank you.  That’s oddly kind of you.  Are you dying…?  I know.  Maybe one day, if she’s alright with it.  You do know where I’m staying these days, right…?  Mihawk’s.  Just call ahead first…Don’t go getting sentimental on me…Good night.”

“Crocodile…?” You stirred at his side, “What was that all about?”

“What was what, Princess?” Crocodile put his hand up to your forehead and let out a little sigh of relief, “Good.  That shit works fast.”

“What do you mean?” you wondered.

“Your fever’s gone,” Crocodile reported, “You’re almost all better.  Remind me to send Law a fruit basket.”

“Will do,” you went back to sleep, letting that conversation slip your mind.

“Go back to sleep, YN,” Crocodile pulled your blankets back over you.

“Yes, sir…”

[beomiracles]

HI HI! HAPPY 500!!! For this one I'm thinking about a Masochist!Soobin X Vampire!reader like reader is a bully to soobin bc she likes to see his cute reactions, who secretly likes him until reader got an idea that if she bites him what will be his reaction also reader is like a sadist for this one, when the blood moon appears thats when things get escalated aka spicy moment iykyk (congratulations for reaching 500! <33)

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... I LOVE vampires. if anyone missed that vital piece of information ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞ and this idea was like gold? I fear the plot might be lacking a little? idk read and decide for yourself I say !

wc -> 1.6k

pairings soobin x vampire afab!reader (I can't remember if gender is stated but I wrote with a fem reader in mind) warnings elements bullying, blood drinking, masochist soobin (gets off on almost getting killed oopsies), handjob...I can't think of anything else its 2am, pls lmk if I missed any!

You liked Soobin. He smelled sweet, not like candy, no, you didn’t like candy. Soobin smelled like sweet nectar, carefully harvested from a blooming flower on a sunny spring day. His skin looked like honey and felt like gold beneath the tips of your fingers. — Soobin’s face flushed in all shades of pink and red whenever he got flustered. You liked making him like that, pushing his buttons just the right amount to get the perfect rise out of him. 

Soobin lets you push his buttons. He bows his head in shame as you empty the contents of his bag out on the floor in front of him. He bites his lip as you step on his books, crushing them under the sole of your shoe. He whines when you pull his ear, pushing him up against the nearest wall as you spit insults in his face. He never tells anyone. 

Soobin was perfect, too perfect for you to ever disregard as a quick meal. But his sweet smell remains engraved in your sharp mind, as if to torture you, and it did. 

It really was his own fault for being outside that one fateful night, the night of the blood moon. Tsk, humans never seemed to know better. You had never intended to take things that far, but under the red sky your eyes saw nothing but him, smelled nothing but him, felt nothing but him. 

The persistent beating of his heart as he walks along the sidewalk. His head hung low, the hood of his shirt shielding his pretty face from view. — It happens before you have the time to even think. He’s tall, but you’re strong; his lanky and unguarded frame was easy to yank into the nearest alleway. He doesn’t scream, and even if he did no one would’ve heard for your hand slams across his plump lips. 

His once startled and almost terrified expression wears off the second he sees your face. You frown but don’t give it much thought, his sweet nectar-like scent spreading like wildfire through your every fiber and you inhale, letting your eyes flutter closed. — “Stupid boy”, you mutter as you yank the hood of his hoodie down. “Don’t you know not to go out wandering by yourself late at night?” 

Your hand moves to his neck, giving it a firm squeeze as you watch his lips part in a soft gasp, the sound like music to your ears. “K-Knew you would come for me”, he croaks out, his cheeks flushing as his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip. His statement catches you off guard and you peer up at him, red irises piercing through his honey tinted ones. It is then you realize that his heart is not beating out of fear, rather…excitement. 

Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. 

Still, he was rather cute. You could feel him swallow, adam's apple bobbing against the palm of your hand, the pumping of his rich blood flowing through his healthy veins that strained beneath your fingers. You exhale, not because your unbeating heart needed to, but rather to restrain yourself from just snapping his neck in half. 

“Why, have you been waiting, hm?” You drawl, sharp nails dragging across his jugular and he shudders as he nods. “Do you desire death?” You weren’t planning on killing him. He didn’t have to know that.  — He shakes his head as best as he can, his breath is reduced to short gasps as he fights for air, fights for life. “You.” His voice is raspy and you still as your eyes bore into him. 

“You. Is what I desire”, he gasps as your hands tighten around his neck. “Stupid boy”, you grunt. Did he not realize how hard he was making things, how dangerous he made them? Despite it all, you lean in, your nose grazing along his honey fresh skin, his blood surges beneath the surface and your eyes gleam in the eerie moonlight. 

Soobin lets out a strangled noise when your fangs sink into his skin, showing no mercy as they dig deep. Your eyes flutter closed and you groan at the taste of him, sweet nectar dancing on your tongue as you greedily let the searing hot liquid slip down your throat. — Just as you’ve gotten your first taste of him you realize that you can never let yourself do this again, that was if he even survived tonight. You were no stranger to human blood, especially not fresh from the core. But this, his blood, you felt your self control slipping between your fingers as his warm blood bloomed inside your cold body. 

His large hands are on your waist, you expect him to push you away, he doesn’t. He pulls you closer, whimpering as your thigh presses against his hard cock. It makes your eyes snap open and you rip yourself from his throat as you slam him even harder against the brick wall behind him, he groans as his mouth falls open. 

Your lips, coated in a thick layer of crimson turn into a scowl as you grip his chin harshly. “Sick human”, you sneer as you watch his already blushing cheeks practically explode in an ocean of red. “Do you get off on this shit?” You jeer as you watch him with disdain. The way his cock twitches against your thigh makes your nose turn up in disgust, “fuck, and I thought I was the bigger freak.” 

The way he writhers under you was almost endearing. A small noise deep in his throat pulls your eyes to his, only to find them full of desire. It wasn’t like you didn’t like Soobin, hell you liked him a lot, it had been centuries since you last felt something other than thirst for a lowly human like himself. It was why you hadn’t strayed far from him, not wanting his sweet nectar to attract others of your kind, creatures far more dangerous than yourself, creatures who most definitely wouldn’t hesitate to drain him dry. 

You heave a sigh, the grip on his chin unwavering as your free hand slides along his chest and down his pants. Soobin lets out a hoarse moan as your pale fingers wrap around his leaking cock, you grimace at how wet it was. Can’t believe I’m doing this. You mutter as you glance over at him. 

His face had quickly contorted into one of pure pleasure as his brows drew together, his ever pouty lips parted, his jaw slack and his gaze clouded. The sight was oddly enticing and you felt yourself tingle with arousal. — Hungry eyes travel down his neck, the punctures to his skin glinting in the moonlight as blood spills down his collarbone. Deeming your self control to be out of the picture already, you dive back in as your fangs re-pierce his throat. 

The taste was just as sweet as before, perhaps even sweeter as Soobin’s whines and moans echoed out in the alleway. Your thumb pressing down against his slit makes him squeal and you can practically feel his blood surging, his pleasure transpiring directly into your mouth as you swallow mouthfuls of his very life essence. 

His hips buck up against your hand, chasing your touch as his fingers dig into the skin of your waist. He was surprisingly strong for a human, the acknowledgment spurred you on further than you’d like to admit and you sighed against his neck. 

You could feel his tall frame grow weaker and weaker in your grasp, whether it was because of the lack of blood he suffered or his nearing orgasm, you didn’t know. “Please”, he gasps as his head falls back against the bricked wall. Humans and their persistent begging, half the time they didn’t even know what they wanted, yet they were rarely pleased. 

It takes all your willpower to finally withdraw from his throat and he hisses as you do. “Please, please, please”, he whimpers when your tongue drags across the wounds on his neck, savoring the last droplets of  sweet nectar. — Your wrists flicks over the head of his cock, pulling a cry from him as his teeth sink into his bottom lip. “What?” You groan as you tug on his weeping dick, making him shudder as he shakes his head. 

“Need more..” he pleads as his hopeful eyes meet yours. You snort as you pull his face by his chin, forcing him down eye level with you. “Take what you’re offered”, you sneer before releasing his face with a push. He whines as his back hits the wall behind him, “wanna kiss you.” — You were seriously starting to consider the option of snapping his neck after all. 

“Stupid human–” You begin but the rest of your sentence is swallowed by his lips on your own as Soobin’s large hand guides the back of your head. His blood on your lips mingles with his saliva as he pushes his eager tongue inside your mouth. With a small roll of your eyes you let them flutter closed as your lips move against his. 

The second he feels your sharp fang grace his tongue he comes undone as he whimpers into your mouth. His cock twitches in your tight grasp as he coats your pale hand in hot cum. “F-fuck”, he whines as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. The rapid beating of his heart consumed your senses and you felt yourself go lightheaded. 

He pulls back, just enough to where his lips still hover above yours, smeared in his own blood and he pants. He swallows, hard, “I wanna taste you too”, he states and your mouth parts as you huff out a short breath of disbelief. 

Jesus fucking christ.  

taglist ✎... @theresawtf @jjklvr9 @binniebakery @beomies-world @hyukaaa @ninoshome1 @gardnhee @babymochibeargyu @lunathewritingcat @duckywuckypookiepie @naoristerling @oddracha  @soohashits @junimoa03 @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @beomtasticc @369girlswannadrinkwine @unknowzzn

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!) if you're struggling, go here.

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ᰔ © all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[saltywinteradult]

How is Dany is abusive to Jon?

Honest question, I’ve never given it a thought

I'm sorry this took me so long, anon, and I am really sorry for how long this post got. I had a lot of thoughts on this.

Before we begin, I'd like to point you to this compilation of Jon's reactions to Dany, which hardly paints a picture of a man who is happy and in love, as well as this post and this gifset, both pointing out the parallels between Jon's relationship with Dany and Sansa's relationship with Littlefinger, the latter being a relationship I hope most people can agree is abusive.

It's absolutely crucial to remember that in this relationship, Dany is the person with the power. She is the one with the dragons and the biggest army, and she is willing to both use and abuse that power to get her way.

Furthermore, Dany wants the North's loyalty, but the North needs her help. (The fact that it's Dany's duty as well as in her own best interest to help fight the Others is a different discussion; she doesn't seem to understand this anyway.) She has agreed to grant that help, but she could easily withdraw it if she chooses. She has more power than literally anyone else and there's simply no escaping that power imbalance - it permeates every single interaction Dany has with Jon and all the other Northerners for all of s7 and the first half of s8.

I want you to remember how Dany treats Jon on Dragonstone. His weapons and his boat are taken away immediately upon his arrival. She says Jon is "not yet" her prisoner, but 1) that line very clearly implies that she could make him her prisoner if she chooses to, and 2) how much does it really matter that Jon is "not yet" her prisoner when she's already taken away his means of defending himself or leaving the island? Remember how she later tells him "I haven't given you permission to leave." Girl, what happened to Jon not being your prisoner?

I think it's also very telling that Dany never once addresses Jon by his proper title of King in the North, even before he bends the knee. As you may recall, Dany cares a great deal about titles. She never grants Jon the same respect she demands for herself, and she likes to remind Jon that she is his Queen even during a supposedly intimate, romantic scene.

(Gif by yocalio via gameofthronesdaily)

Earlier in this scene, Dany pointed out that they could stay here in this secluded spot, away from the kingdom and its politics, and no one would find them. Yet even here, away from the rest of the world, she makes a point of referring to herself as "your Queen".

I point all of this out to illustrate that from the very beginning and throughout their relationship, Dany views Jon as a subordinate, not an equal. That is very much not a good foundation for a healthy and equal romantic relationship. Her constant expectation is that Jon will submit, obey, give things up to benefit her, and ensure that the people he has power over act the way she wants.

Case in point:

"Your sister doesn't like me. [...] She doesn't need to be my friend, but I am her Queen. If she can't respect me..."

The implication is that Sansa is doing something wrong by not liking or respecting Dany (meaning "not acting deferential enough for Dany's taste"). The fact that Dany is saying this to Jon and not to Sansa herself implies that it's Jon's responsibility to ensure that Sansa behaves acceptably. "If she can't respect me..." Then what? What exactly is she implying will be the consequences? That their romantic relationship will end? Something worse?

At this point, the North has bent the knee to Dany. As their monarch this is not an entirely unreasonable thing to ask of her subjects - but it's not a very reasonable thing for a girlfriend to ask of her boyfriend, is it? The line between Jon and Dany's political relationship as monarch and subject and their personal relationship as girlfriend and boyfriend isn't just blurred, it's practically nonexistent. To state the obvious, there is a reason we decided that absolute monarchies are bad here in the real world. There is also a reason why a boss dating a subordinate is frowned upon in the real world. Big power imbalances are a bad idea in general and in romantic relationships especially. They should at the very least be considered and navigated carefully. Dany not only fails to do so; she is only happy with her and Jon's relationship when she has power over him.

For proof, let's look at how she reacts when that power imbalance is upended by the revelation of Jon's true identity:

This revelation is a bombshell for Jon. Everything he thought he knew about his own origins turns out to be untrue. However, Dany's first and only thought is how this affects her. Her first reaction is denial and scepticism; the second is to turn cold as soon as she realises that this makes Jon a threat to her ambitions.

There's also this line:

"A secret no one in the world knew, except your brother and your best friend. Doesn't seem strange to you?"

Which implies... What, exactly? That Sam and Bran made this up? Why? Just like with Sansa in the previous scene, we see Dany questioning the actions and intentions of Jon's loved ones. Remember that.

Things escalate in episode 4:

Dany is faced with the notion that Jon might hold more political power than she thought, that they might actually be on somewhat equal footing, and this makes her unhappy.

"I want it to be the way it was between us."

Her desire is to continue their sexual relationship and to return to the previous status quo where she held more power than him and therefore didn't consider him a threat. Jon having a stronger claim to the throne than her threatens Dany's sense of her own identity and purpose, and she reacts by trying to deny and suppress this reality:

"You can say nothing, to anyone, ever! Swear your brother and Samwell Tarly to secrecy and tell no one else! Or it will take on a life of its own and you won't be able to control it or what it does to people!"

(Imagine this with the genders reversed. Yikes.)

Dany is demanding Jon keep his own identity secret from his own family. That's not a reasonable thing to ask of a person you love. Not for one second does she show any consideration for how Jon might feel or what Jon might want. It's all about her. Her expectation is that Jon suppress his own identity, his own reality, to benefit Dany's ambitions. Never once does it seem to occur to Dany that what Jon does with this secret is up to him to decide, not her. His agency is of no concern to her.

Jon: I have to tell Sansa and Arya. Dany: Sansa will want to see me gone and you on the Iron Throne. [...] She's not the girl you grew up with. Not after what she's seen, not after what they've done to her. [...] Jon: They're my family. We can live together. Dany: We can. I've just told you how.

Here we are again with Dany questioning the motives and agendas of Jon's loved ones. Now she's no longer implying but outright stating that they're working against her. What we have here is a pattern of Dany implying that Jon's loved ones are up to no good and can't be trusted. I don't need to explain why that is a dangerous and manipulative thing to do to one's partner, right?

I also want you to pay extra attention to how Emilia delivers that final line. Throughout the whole scene Dany is distraught and desperate, but at this point she turns cold and closed off with an unmistakable anger that Jon won't agree to do as she demands. It is very hard not to read a threatening undertone into that line. "Keep it secret, or else."

Before we move on to episode 5, I'd like to highlight this line, spoken by Dany to Tyrion and Varys in episode 4:

"Speaking to Cersei will not prevent a slaughter. But perhaps it's good the people see that Daenerys Stormborn made every effort to avoid bloodshed, and Cersei Lannister refused. They should know whom to blame when the sky falls down upon them."

Let's be clear on one thing here: Cersei could choose to back down and surrender to avoid bloodshed - but, and I cannot stress this enough, so could Dany. Cersei and Dany are both being selfish and power-hungry by refusing to give up the throne in order to avoid bloodshed. But to admit that would ruin Dany's deeply rooted self-image as morally superior to her enemies. So what does she do instead? She deflects blame. She's the one with the dragons, but if she makes the sky fall down on people, as she puts it, it's not her fault. Keep that in mind.

Now for the absolute low point:

"What did I say would happen if you told your sister? [...] She betrayed your trust. She killed Varys as much as I did. This was a victory for her. Now she knows what happens when people hear the truth about you."

Okay. Varys was conspiring against Dany, which he could've chosen not to do; I guess Dany was within her rights to punish him. She still could've chosen to imprison him, or at least give him a trial. Nobody made her kill him. But as we've just seen, Dany doesn't like to accept responsibility for her own decisions. She'd rather deflect the blame onto the people who displease her.

What's more, she's not just blaming Sansa for Varys's death but Jon as well, for telling Sansa the secret in the first place - which Jon was well within his rights to do! He never agreed not to tell anyone. That wasn't up to Dany to decide in the first place. Jon did what he wanted to do and not what she wanted him to do, so now everything Dany does as a result of Jon's actions is Jon's fault? Do I even need to explain how shitty this is?

"Far more people in Westeros love you than love me. I don't have love here. I only have fear."

This is entirely true. She never stops to think about why Jon is more beloved in Westeros than she is, but whatever. What's important is that after this, Dany initiates a kiss and Jon rebuffs her.

(Gifs from snowsource)

"Alright then. Let it be fear."

Again, what exactly do we think she's implying here? Remember the context. During this conversation, Jon already told her "you will always be my queen". He hasn't rejected her as his queen (which at this point he damn well should), he's just rejecting her sexual advances. And yet, Dany's reaction to his personal rejection of her is to embrace "fear", which again refers to how all of Westeros sees her, not just Jon. Dany already deflected blame for her previous actions onto people who displeased her including Jon, and now she's deflecting the blame for her future actions in the same way. And we all know what she did after this, don't we? I don't know how the line "let it be fear" can mean anything other than "you rejected me and that's why I'm going to embrace being feared, so whatever I do now in the name of being feared is really your fault. Look what you made me do." If that isn't abuse, I don't know what is.

[writingoddess1125]

You Get Buggy a Corgi

Cute Headcanon

Pure Fluff

◇ Bonus has some mild sadness

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

• Buggy has always wanted a Corgi- He's never talked about it but you did see he has a Corgi shaped pillow in his room that he's apparently had since he was a child-

• So you decide to get him one as a gift for his birthday.

• He always had big birthday bashes and it was the biggest party imaginable- The whole crew with more alcohol and food then a gods banquet while Buggy sat in the center jovial and proud.

• You walk over with a box in hand and carefully set it down infront of him, He raises a brow at the lack of flashy decoration on the brown box and pops open the lid with a unamused expression

• There a little head pops up and everyone stares at the happy Corgi face looking st Buggy and the blue bow around its neck

• His whole face flushes as you can quite literally see the childlike joy shine in his eyes- A bright smile on his face as he sets the puppy in his lap.

• "Her name is Guppy" You say as he mumbles the name and glances up at you. "She's mine?"

• "Yep! She's fully trained and apparently does really well on ships from what the shelter said" You say softly, but you're sure he isn't even paying attention to you as the dog seems to instantly love Buggy and scales him with her little body to press her face against his. You can quite literally see his heart melt.

• Clearly Guppy is his favorite gift ever since he doesn't pay attention to anything else accept for Guppy the rest of the night.

• You also get a special reward for bringing a wonderful gift.

• Guppy is absolutely a velcro dog- Loving to be at Buggys side 24/7 and follow him around. He gets her a red bandana so she's easy to spot at all times. If there is anything dangerous he will leave her behind but be sad about it-

• Later finds out she yaps like crazy when he's not there and cries loudly.

• She sleeps on him constantly, sometimes waking him up since she will curl directly over his face suffocating him.

• 'Mrph!- 'Upeee!!" {Guppy!} And ge carefully scoots her on the pillow next to his head so he can breath and go back to sleep-

• Guppy acts as a sort of Therapy dog for Buggy as well- When his temper or anxiety get him worked up to were he would usually destroy his room she will instead lay on his chest and force him to stay still as he Pets her and works himself down from a rage.

• She is also the perfect pillow for him to cry on. So he has pressed his face gently into her fur and just cried- Often she licks the tears away.

• Doesnt wear as heavy of makeup since he knows she likes to lick his face and doesn't want the grease paint to make her sick-

• Will also carry her- Say if the waters are too choppy but she doesn't want to be left he will just carry her like a baby to make sure she doesn't slide around or get hurt.

• If anyone- and I mean ANYONE Dares to mess with his dog he will absolutely go ape-shit... Think insulting his nose is instant death- Hurt his dog and he will come up with the worse ways to kill a person slowly-

• He probably loves Guppy more then any living person and makes sure she has a wonderful healthy life.

Bonus!-

• "Hey Buggy can I ask?- Why do you like Corgi's so much?" You ask laying next to him on the floor of his cabin. He pauses for a moment as he thinks.

• "Lots of reasons- They are soft, sweet, overall really loving and they are a little odd which I like.. But-" He pauses for a second.

• "...It's kinda weird but.. my first memory in life was of a Corgi and my mother-" He admitted and you looked surprised by this, asking for him to explain which he rolled his eyes but agreed.

• "It was the day she dropped me off at the orphanage.. She handed me that corgi pillow you see on my bed and some berry she shoved in my pockets. Telling me that she had to leave me here to make sure I was safe from bad guys-" He said calmly, but you could hear the hurt in his tone.

• "But if I was every in a situation were it was truly life or death all I had to say with three words and I'd be okay. Then she kisses my forehead and left. It's my first and last memories of her- A few years later Roger's picking me up to be his apprentice" He admitted as Guppy lived his face clearly sensing some sadness.

• "Im... I'm so sorry-.. What were the three words?" You asked now circus, but you saw the way his eyes drifted to you briefly

• "Eh- That's a story for a different time" He said with a smile and waved it off. Watching how he pet Guppy some more.

• However you laid there stewing.. 3 words?

[lotussuns]

implied fem! reader. she her pronouns used. kind of suggestive but no smut, talks about porn mostly. minors don’t interact please. i just spat it out in one sitting so lots of spelling mistakes probs. ooc gojo! he’s a loser

just a thought that i had today hihihi. i imagine a future where both gojo and geto are in their early twenties, in the middle of getting their teaching license to teach at jujutsu high. they are both young, healthy, attractive men so they sleep around a little bit, and of course share their experiences and preferences with each other. that further escalated to porn.

so geto and gojo have a tradition of sharing porn with each other. if geto finds something super hot, he most likely will send it to gojo to get a second opinion and they both talk about how that actress looked super hot while getting pounded from behind, or that they should find a hottie to have that specific threesome with.

anyway geto starts noticing a weird trend with the actresses that gojo sends him. why do they all … kind of look similar, they all kind of look like you.

it’s either the same hairstyle, same body type, similar facial structure. and geto is fucking freaking out because they have known you for like 3 months?? you just started here?? and he knew gojo was obsessed with you, everyone could tell (apart from you) but he didn’t know it was this severe.

he sends a quick text.

“i didn’t know anyone could be this down bad.”

which gojo quickly responds to with

“HUH?!”

“WHAT HAPPENED.”

geto answers with a vague. “i know what you are doing lol did you think you were slick like that.”

gojo fucking spirals.

“WHAT DID YOU FIND DID YOU TOUCH MY FUCKING LAPTOP?!?!?!???!??!!!!”

“HOLY SHIT YOU FUCKING TRAITOR IM TELEPORTING HOME YOU FUCKCKDMND.”

geto is super confused like what the fuck? gojo sent that shit himself, it was quite obvious the actresses looked as close to you as they could. was gojo not even realizing that? he couldn’t understand what the man was so worried about.

“?”

“what are you talking about lol. you sent that shit yourself.”

gojo responds with another wave of panicked texts.

“FUCK I CANNOT TELEPORT HOME IM TOO BUSY WHAT DID I AEND WHERE.”

“PLEASE SUGURU DONT TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS PLEASE YOU CAN MAKE FUN OF ME ALL HOU WANT JUST DONT TELL ANYONE.”

and now geto was super confused what else did gojo hide from him. he decided it was the perfect opportunity to fuck around and find out.

“you’re absolutely insane i cannot believe you did that. sick fuck.”

geto’s phone once again lights up like crazy from all the notifications he’s bombarded with.

“PLEASE DONT TELL HER PLEASE.”

“AND DONT DELETE ANYTHINF DONT TOCUCHHF IT.”

“I WORKED SO HARD ON OUR LITTLE FAMILY.”

“SHES PREGANANT WITH OUR 6 CHILD ND IT WAS SO HARD TO GET OUR PENFHOUSE WITHOUT ANY CODES I EARNDNDD THAT SHIT WITH REAL WORK SUGURU REAL HONEST WORK NO MOTHERLODE AND SHIT.”

“I EVEN PAYED FOR OUR WEDDING MYSELF.”

and it was then that geto realized gojo was talking about something more cringe that his porn preferences. he was talking about the sims.

gojo fucking satoru made you guys in the sims. married. with 5 kids and 1 on its way.

after the initial wave of tremendous cringe geto felt in his body (he almost collapsed from how intense it was) geto didnt know if he should laugh or cry from how much of a pathetic loser gojo was, but he knew he would never let him live it down.

[cheetahspy]

Ledger!Joker x Diabetic Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Medical stuff, needles/injections (it’s not very descriptive though), slight NSFW mention (labeled at the bottom)

A/N: Heya! I’ve never posted something like this before haha…Kinda new to it and very nervous so don’t judge me too harshly. I actually write quite often but rarely post it, however I really wanna start trying to put my work out there more. Keyword try. 

Anyway, fun fact about me, I have T1 diabetes. I haven't seen anything about that with J so I decided to make my own headcanons and such :) Sooooo here’s that lol…enjoy??

You had been diagnosed with T1 diabetes three years ago. You hated it. The needles, the upkeep, the blood, the appointments. It’s scary, a living nightmare for you.

You were still in your…adjusting phase, and didn’t like talking about your diabetes to anyone. Joker was no exception

So, naturally, J took matters into his own hands and did his own research, learning as much as he could about diabetes (without you knowing, of course). How it works, the high and low blood sugar levels, how to manage it, he even figured out how the insulin pump that you have operates. 

You were shocked the day he offered to change the infusion set for you and knowing how to do so. He ignored you when you asked him how he knew.

You were hesitant but quick to give in and let him inject the cannula into your stomach. He hugged you from behind as he did so; you melted into his touch and your fears were comforted. From that day on you opened up more and more about your medical life to J and allowed his help. 

He enjoys being the one to inject the cannula and dexcom, however he still forces you to do it yourself at times, as to make sure you aren’t getting too used to being dependent on someone else. You’re a strong and brave bunny, he wants to remind you of that. 

He will tease you about your dexcom and infusion sets, saying you must be part machine. 

“I’m uh, still convinced you’re a cyborg.” “J!!”

He also forces you to stay on a healthy diet and keeps track of your sugar intake carefully. He’s definitely not a hypocrite. He rarely lets you eat junk food, even though you’re allowed to and tried explaining that to him

“The doctors told me it’s okay if I eat sugar now and then, as long as I have the insulin for it. It’s the sugary drinks I need to avoid more.” 

J doesn’t buy it, nor does he trust your doctor's input. “Mmm. Nuh uh. Can’T have my little bunny go falling into a coma, hm?” You know he’s just concerned about you (even if he’d never outright admit it), so overtime you stopped arguing with him and avoided junk food to ease his mind. Just don’t let him catch you eating it behind his back.

J absentmindedly fidgets with your insulin tube. Rubbing along it, flicking it around, twirling it around his finger, even constantly feeling the cannula end of it against your stomach as if to reassure himself you that it’s still on and doing its job. Don’t worry, he’s only accidentally ripped it out once or twice, and he certainly makes it up to you when that happens. 

Having a low, but forgot sugar to combat it? Not to worry! Joker keeps a juice box or two in his suit juuuust for you. He’s even stacked packages of juices in your pantry so you’ll have plenty. (Don’t ask whether he bought or stole them, you already know the answer)

The low blood sugar episodes hit you hard, but you’ve found curling up on J’s lap and cuddling against his chest while sipping on juice is very comforting. He’ll stroke your hair and rub your back, holding you closer whenever you shake and cry.

“Shhhh sh sh sh. It’s nothin’ you haven’t beaten before. It’ll pass, angel.” 

You hate looking at your stomach and seeing the previous holes and scars from constant injections. J will run his thumb over them and kiss each of them to comfort you. 

Whenever you have a headache or any symptoms, J will immediately interrogate you about your blood sugar level

“Not every pain I get is caused by my diabetes.”

“Shuuuuush. What’re levels right now? Let me uh, lemme see your pum-p. Give. Right. Now.” 

If you’re low on insulin and the pharmacist is late to sending you new vials, J will meet with them personally to have a little chat. 

He’ll then come home and plop the bag of new vials theatrically down on the counter. “Tadaaaa! More insulin for my sweet little sugar cube.”

“Oh, thank you J! Wow, they gave me a lot this time…” 

NSFW:

During the ✨devils tango✨, J will occasionally rip the cannula out by accident. He’ll immediately put a pin in your lovemaking session to get you a new one. Even if you insist you could go an hour or two without it, he’s not taking any chances. After all, where’s the fun in sex if your partner is dying from a seizure??

“J, I promise it’s okay! We don’t have to sto-”

“Now now gumdrop. I know you’re, heh, eager for me, but my patient needs her medicine first.” 

You’re grateful you don’t have to deal with your disability alone anymore. Who knew the Clown Prince of Crime could be such a good caretaker?

[lia-wrld]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧, 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐉𝐣, 𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝

~𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧

I think he would understand that u can be a bit hormonal. Would get u pads, tampons and stuff like that. Simon would make less smart comments (if yk what i mean like the sarcasm) if u get annoyed by them when ur on ur period. He is prob going to try make u laugh if ur crying about sm stupid like about the fact that the crisps r finished.

~𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲

Oh harry he'd be the type to accidentally make u cry💀. This man would promise u that he is going to go get u food after he goes somewhere w his friends bc ur hungry and forget. He promised u bc he decided to go out with friends instead of spend time w u and forget the food😭. After u literally reminded him and harry still forgot. But he does make it up to u by cuddling w u. He'd offer to cook u said no bc u dont want ur kitchen burnt down. So u just orders in whatever u like.

~𝐉𝐣

Clueless about periods would constantly ask u about it and he would not to what do. U aint giving him any answer bc ur in pain ur there like tf u mean do u what hole do u bleed from. Soo what does he do he googles all his odd question and googles what to do with u. When whatever he tries does not work he just put on ur fav movie. Jj would prob by u sm u have been wanting like a channel braclet ( if u dont like that imagine anything els u like) to make u happy.

~𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐢

Oh tobi would be the sweetest person ever as if he already isn't but whenever ur on ur period its a whole other story. Anything u want he would get/do. U want to play uno? Alright I’ll grab the cards. Cuddles? U dont even have to ask. He us just so obssesed w u (but like in a healthy way) but tbf who wouldnt its u.

~𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐤

Aww poor vik he is also clueless . He knows how periods work unlike someone *cough cough* Jj. But he wouldn’t know how to deal with u he’d be there just patting ur head. Like u will be fine it could be much worse u could be in the submarine that got lost or be in the toxic gossip train.

(my requests are open if u want me to write a consept for a anyone else just ask🙂)

[soubi122]

Dreaming of You - pt 1

A two part follow up from my mini series "Sweet Dreams".

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, murder, smut, alcohol, etc. MDNI - Please and thank you!

Months after your death, Izana found himself dreaming about you. As did the rest of Tenjiku. The soft sounds of your whimpers and moans filled the room the moment the moon was at its highest point in the sky. They would dream about the way you’d call their names while breathless and a mess underneath them. These dreams felt too real, they would wake up  feeling the warmth of your lips and the heat of your body on theirs. 

Your death was something that they didn't know was gonna hit hard. The forensics team ruled it a natural death, the victim went into cardiac arrest and died in her sleep. That's what was put in your death certificate. The cops suspected no foul play nor found any evidence that pointed them in any other direction. Your body was clear of any marks, assault or semen. There was no forced entry, your toxicology report came back negative with the  exception of a bit of alcohol during dinner and you were a healthy woman. 

Tenjiku's men attended your funeral, really they were the only ones that did. You had no family, few friends and no other acquaintances. Not even your coworkers or managers came to your funeral, despite working for them for several years. 

Seeing the groundskeepers lower your coffin into the dirt - it made their stomachs turn. Especially Izana's. That night remained etched in his mind, it was a bitter sweet. Everyday he thinks about that night, the way you smiled, the way you tasted and the way your heart stopped beating. 

"Anyone else still dreaming about her?" Shion asked while holding a shot glass in his hands. The men in the room mumbled a yes. They were having vivid dreams. “I can't stop dreaming of her.” Mucho says and presses his palms into his face, covering his eyes as if he's struggling to stay level headed. “Same.” Mochizuki confesses and things start to get rather awkward in the room as they felt uncomfortable talking about you and how lewd these dreams were. You were dead. “Almost every night, I hear her voice and she…” Kakucho says but his words trail off as he notices Izana's expression. Perhaps talking about you while he's here isn't the best idea. He was the one to claim you and take your life. Kakucho could only imagine what it felt like to be there at your final moments. His thoughts were interrupted when Izana spoke. “Does she call your name first?” His eyes were empty, it's as if he was staring into a void. “Or you only realize she's there when you feel her body on top of yours?” He said with a bit of guilt on his tongue. 

Everyone paused for a moment to think. “Let me guess… She's wearing a white slip?” Rindou asks and he is met with an immediate response from Ran. “And by the time you're done fucking her, it's blood stained?” The room fell silent, everyone realized that they were all having the same dream. How? How was this possible when you didn't own any white sleepwear and there was no blood at the crime scene? Each of them began to repeat the vivid dreams and what went on. There were slight differences between them but all ended the same. They woke up feeling as if someone was in the room with them, as if they were actually making love to you.

Their discussion went well into the night, after hours they decided to head home, but a drunken Shion went to the cemetery to pay a visit to your grave. He was slowly walking up the rows looking for your plot, eerily enough he felt calm. Maybe it was liquor in his veins but he wasn't afraid. He continued to drink from the bottle of sake, of course he left Izana’s and took his comfort with him. When he reached your headstone, he crouched down and placed his hand on the cold slate. “If you wanted us to visit you baby, you could have just asked.” He says and feels tears prick his eyes. Tenjiku always prides themselves in not attaching themselves to people. However, you were different - you brought warmth to their lives. Despite the fact that they were getting attention elsewhere, your attention is what they fixated on. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the headstone. “We miss you.” He said softly. Never in a hundred years did he think he’d mourn for someone outside of Tenjiku’s leaders. 

After several minutes of crying and wishing for you to come back, Shion poured sake into a shot glass and left it on the left side of the tombstone. He was about to stand up when he realized there was no noise in the cemetery. No crickets, no rustling of the trees, leaves or anything. It was dead silent. Suddenly, the sound of light footsteps behind him made him whip his head around. Who the fuck was out here at 1am? He started to freak out when everything got quiet again. Turning around to bid your grave goodbye, he saw something that almost made his heart stop. A pair of arms were hanging over the headstone as if someone was leaning on it. Shion threw himself back and away, when he looked up to see who the person was - he had completely lost his voice. “Hey…” That soft and sweet voice he's longed to hear rang in his ears. He couldn't believe his eyes, you were right in front of him. 

“...(Y/N)?” He stutters and looks in disbelief, even rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making him see things. He sees you swing around the headstone, sitting on it and lean slightly back. You were wearing that white slip that you wear in their dreams. Smiling, you spread your legs apart, even through the moonlight he could catch a glimpse of your heat. Lifting the slip above your thighs, you beckon him to come closer and he does so without hesitation. “Shion…” You almost whimper his name as he runs his hands along your thighs. The warmth of your skin felt too real and he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Gently tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull his face closer to your core, you want him to taste you. 

He felt his heart pounding and his hands were trembling. Shion’s breath hitches as he inhaled your scent and gripped your thighs. Glancing up at you once more before he dove in, he made eye contact with you - your eyes were hazy. It’s that same look you had in his dreams. “Oh fuck…”  He groans as his tongue makes a long swipe between your folds, tasting you and making you gasp. Everything felt like it was going so fast that by the time he realized you were grinding your hips into his face, he was losing himself. “Just like that! Don’t stop!” You moan into the night as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. He was eating you out as if it was his last meal on earth. Truth be told, he gave in to this little dream as he didn’t know when was the next time he’d be able to see you. What if he forgets about you one day? What if he forgets the way you taste, the way you sound or the way you feel? The thoughts were driving him mad. “(Y/N), baby - I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”  Shion whimpers as he hears your moans get louder. You were close. 

“Mmnh…We should have told you-fuck, the truth.” He continues to apologize and puts more pressure on your clit with his tongue. His right hand begins to snake its way between your legs and he slides two digits in, curling his fingers to find your sweet spot. Throughout all those times he’s visited you in your dreams, eating you out was his favorite thing to do to you. Feeling how you clenched around his digits, he picked up his pace and made you scream out his name. Your juices coated his fingers and tongue, nothing compared to having you come undone. 

The moment he pulled away to look up at you, your body slid down and your warm embrace made him feel whole. Without any further hesitation, he unzipped his slacks and let his desires take him even further. He penetrated your sopping cunt in one swift motion. He was enveloped with pure bliss. Shion proceeded to move your hips into his. Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that he was eating you out but he didn’t last. Those pathetic whimpers of desperation echoed across the empty cemetery as he filled you to the brim. A tender feeling on his neck made him gasp as he realized you were sucking on his pulse point. “(Y/N)...” He moaned. “Come visit me again my love.” Your voice echoed in his ear. The honey in your voice was slowing his heart beat, almost as if he was in a daze. His head started to feel fuzzy and his vision was going white. I feel like I'm gonna pass out… He thinks to himself before his body slums over in your arms. 

*a few hours later*

“He's waking up.” A male voice echoes in the room. Shion could barely make out the figures in front of him. His eyes were bloodshot. “What the hell happened to you?” Another voice asks. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he realized he was at Izana's place surrounded by Tenjiku's men. He sits up immediately, shifting left to right - looking for you. “WHERE IS SHE?” He yells and continues to look around. Mochi firmly held him in place trying to calm him down. Several voices were swarming in Shion's head, too many people were talking, it was giving him anxiety and upsetting his stomach. “Everyone, shut up.” Izana says and the room goes silent in an instant. 

After several minutes of silence, Shion was able to calm down and he explained to everyone what happened. It was hard to believe since he was drunk by the time he headed ‘home’ but the way he was explaining everything in such detail, the glow in his eyes, the tremble in hands - he was telling the truth. “You have no idea how you got here, do you?” Rindou asks. Shaking his head, Shion said no - he couldn’t recall what happened afterwards. Apparently he came back at 4:30am  and knocked on Izana's front door until he opened it. He had no idea he was so close to getting punched in the face. The only reason he didn't was because Izana noticed the expression on his face. Within seconds he collapsed on the floor. The events weren't making sense. 

Kakucho had a sinking feeling in his stomach, something wasn't right and someone else was bound to end up in the same state as Madarame. 

Several days went by without incident, however… Mochi went to the cemetery to drop off some flowers. He was weary but opted to go during the day and sober, while the sun was still out. When he arrived, he noticed an empty shot glass on the grass, it looks like the caretakers haven't stopped by yet. Picking up the glass he put it on top of the head stone. He sighed at feeling the cold slate under his palm. He hated knowing that you could have been spared if they would have told you the truth. “Forgive us little lady, we didn't mean to hurt you.” He said while arranging the flowers on the metal rack. They were golden-rayed lilies. Their beautiful white and gold colors stood out against the dark slate. He sat there in silence for about 30 minutes, offering a prayer and closed his eyes. The light breeze kissed his skin and the fragrant flowers made him relax. The soft sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the distance was soothing. In another life (Y/N), we'd protect you… He says softly before opening his eyes. The moment he did, everything was dark… 

“What the fuck?” He says outloud and notices that the sun has long since set. Quickly getting up on his feet, he made the immediate dash to his motorcycle. He didn't even bother looking around to see if anyone was there. He wasn’t going to run the risk of the same thing happening to him as it did to Shion. Zooming down the streets, he made it home and the moment he closed the door behind him. He paused, taking in a deep breath and exhaling, he needed to pull himself together. There was no way he was there for 6 hours. How did it go from 4:00 in the afternoon to 10:00 pm? His thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on the door. 

Knock. Knock. 

The sound was light and almost a bit shy. He felt a bit uneasy opening the door, he didn't hear any footsteps when he was walking down the hallway nor did he see anyone in the hallways. “Yeah? Who is it?” He retorted rather cautiously. He was met with silence. 

Knock. Knock. 

Another knock at his door made a chill run down his spine. “Who the fuck is it?” He yelled and pressed his ear against the door. Waiting to hear some sort of movement or voice. The silence was unnerving. His door didn't have a peephole so he couldn't even check to see who or what was on the other side. He waited for 5 minutes before pulling away from the door. Whoever was there probably got tired of waiting and left. Taking 4 steps away from the door, the sound of another knock made him furious. 

Mochi snatched the door handle and yanked the door open. What he saw made his throat go dry and left him in shock. “About time you open the door.” You giggled and walked into his apartment. 

You. It was you. 

The same woman he sees in his dreams wearing a white slip with a heavenly smile on her face. Mochizuki froze in place. His eyes followed your figure as it walked past the doorway. Your dainty hands gently pried his hand from the doorknob and closed the door. “(Y/N)...” He stuttered and felt your hand caress his. Slowly you brought his hand to your face, making him caress your cheek. The warmth in his palm felt real. Your skin was soft and warm, it felt alive. “I missed you.” You almost purr out as you come closer, slowly pressing your body against his. 

His immediate reaction was to wrap his arms around you. Burying his face into your neck and breathing in your scent as if it were his only oxygen and lifeline. “Fuck… Please tell me I'm dreaming.” He mumbled while remaining buried in your neck. Your response was to wrap your arms around him and embrace him. Patting him on the head and playing with his braid. Pulling slightly away to look at your face, he notices your eyes - they are hazy and full of desire. “Kiss me.” Your sultry tone made him throw all reasoning out the window and he dove into your lips. Your warm and wet tongue was matching his pace, you two became a desperate mess of kisses and moans. 

Before he knew it, he had you pinned against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. Everything was going so fast, when did he unbutton and unzip his pants? Your white slip was already pushed up above your waist and you could feel the way his length was pulsing against your wet folds. “We should have told you the truth.” He moans huskily as his tip pushes past your tight entrance. He could see you struggle, almost gasping at the stretch and burn of his cock bullying its way inside you. 

Every vein and inch could be felt. Your moans and whimpers echoed in his ear. Mochi paused to take a deep breath, you were clenching too tight, it was making it hard for him to move. Noticing the tears streaming down your cheeks, he placed gentle kisses on your cheek, trying his best to sooth the pain. “You can take me. Right, (Y/N)?” He pants in your ear before slowly moving his hips and back forth. Feeling your body relax and melt into him, he kissed your lips and set the pace. Your body weighed nothing in his arms. He kept you in place and continued to slow fuck you until your mind went numb. One of the rowdiest members of Tanjiku was giving you slow and passionate sex. 

“Mhn! I’m gonna- oh fuck…” You barely could even speak as he was making your mind go blank. He picked up the pace to chase his high, making you cry out his name and burying your face into his neck. If this is what heaven felt like, he didn’t want to be sent back down to earth. He envied Izana for being the one to take your life. By the time he finished, he noticed you were biting his shoulder and he felt his body go numb. “Don’t forget about me…promise?” He hears you say before he completely loses all strength in his body and slides down to his knees. Everything went black. 

The sound of his door being kicked in startles him awake and he finds himself in bed. He quickly gets up and finds Mucho and Kakucho by the doorway. “Where the fuck have you been? Why haven’t you answered any calls?!” Mucho yells at him as he storms towards his direction. Mochizuki looked confused and looked around the room. It was daytime, perhaps he was dreaming - right? “You’ve been MIA for three fucking days!” Mucho continues his yelling before Kakucho cuts in. “Are you alright though?” His tone was sincere and laced with concern. The air in the room felt heavy for a moment before Mucho’s words finally hit Mochi. “Wait, did you say three days?” He asks and feels his blood run cold. The others nodded and asked him where he was this whole time. “I went to the cemetery. But I swear it was daytime, I didn’t go at night. I was sober and…” Mochi’s words trailed off when he saw something on the floor. A single lily on the floor by the doorway. It didn’t make sense, he didn’t bring anything back with him - he had to be dreaming. 

They decided to have a meeting. Izana prohibited everyone from visiting the cemetery until further notice. For the sake of our sanity, you cannot visit the cemetery, stay away from it at all costs. He was serious. Perhaps they were all just having a really hard time coming to terms with your death. They needed to focus on something else, get out and see more women or maybe get away from the city. It was rather unnerving, they couldn’t find the cause of these dreams nor an explanation to what was occurring. Them not being able to remember things could be a serious issue. If an accident were to happen, they could end up in the hospital, killing another person by accident or worse…they could die. 

Two months had flown by without incident, everyone was doing fine and they didn’t have any dreams of you. It’s almost as if you stopped haunting them.

*in Mucho’s apartment*

He was having a hard time sleeping, he laid in bed tossing and turning. He shouldn’t have been taste testing so many different coffees all at once. The amount of caffeine in his system was making his heart race. He figured he’d just get up and sit in the living room and put something on. Mucho spent a few hours surfing channels as this late at night only infomercials were airing on the majority of the channels. He opted for something really boring in hopes that it would be enough to put him to sleep.

He finally settled on a random channel as he was getting annoyed. As the TV ran some old history documentary, he just sat there listening to every word and watched as the images played on the screen. He wasn’t all into the boring things but grew interested in fantasy, folklore and paranormal lore as they themselves were part of the unknown. They told stories from all over the world. The best ones that piqued his interest were from Native American folklore, Latino folklore and of course from his home country, Asian folklore. “Back in the middle ages and even up until the early 19th century, people would create a salt barrier to ward off evil spirits. In folklore and also all around the world, salt was seen as a sign of purity and protection…” The female narrator said while showing reenactments of people pouring salt in a straight line at the base of their doors and window sills. He chuckled. He found it funny how some believed that salt would protect them from anything. They weren’t deterred by salt, charms or really anything else as their intentions weren’t to harm. It was really just to feed, at first it was hard to control their hunger but with time they were able to manage it. 

“In today’s day and age, you rarely see people with charms, salts or anything that indicates that the paranormal exists. However…there are some unexplained happenings that occur.” The narrator continued. “For example, a woman was found dead in her apartment in Yokohama 7 months ago.” The voice of the narrator changed, it went from dull to wicked, almost resentful. The change made Mucho sit up and he felt his blood run cold. This has to be some sort of coincidence right? I’m overthinking due to the caffeine in my system, I’m hearing things. He thinks to himself as he prepares to turn off the TV. It’s probably best for him to get some rest. “She didn’t know any better and thought she was loved and protected by the men whom she trusted the most.” The voice was now angry. He was frozen. The voice was speaking to him…? “No…we didn’t mean to hurt her.” He says to no one in particular. “Yes! You did! You knew what would happen and yet you ALL let it happen!” The voice retorted back with force. Mucho’s vision began to get blurry, tears were now streaming down his face as he felt his heart break. The room felt cold and he felt faint. They didn’t want to be blamed for your death, it was a harsh truth that they couldn’t face.

The sudden sensation of someone wrapping their arms around him made him turn around immediately. The person behind him was you. Your small frame was looming behind the couch, reaching over to embrace him. The angelic look on your face and smile, only made his heart drop. “Don’t listen to it, I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” Your soft and gentle voice said. It did little to soothe the pain in his chest. “(Y/N)...”  He stutters. Everything went silent. He couldn’t hear the sounds of the TV anymore or the voice of the angry narrator. He could only hear the sound of his heart pounding and your soft giggle. You pulled away only to climb over the couch and sit on his lap. “I missed you.” You say and press your lips against his, giving him a gentle kiss. “Am I dreaming…?” He mutters against your lips as you continue to kiss him. 

Mucho began to feel warmth, the room that was once cold was now warm and he no longer felt like he was going to pass out. Your body was pressed against him and he could feel the way your heart was beating against him. “I need to feel you…all of you.” You whisper against his lips and fumble with his zipper. Breaking the kiss he caressed your cheeks and locked eyes with you. That beautiful hazy look in your eyes was enough to almost make him bust. He didn’t even question it or stop you. Even though he knew this was wrong or that this was a dream, he couldn’t stop it. 

Releasing his throbbing member from their restraints, you look down at it and notice the leaky tip. The lewd squelching of your hand stroking his member could be heard going on and on. The husky groans and panting escaping his throat filled the room. He leaned back, closing his eyes and let the warmth of your hands fill the void in his heart. 

Mucho had quite the stamina and discipline. Even after what felt like hours of you pleasuring him, he still wouldn’t finish, he refused to. Those throaty groans and exhales of bliss - it was soothing to hear. If only you were able to hear him and everyone else like this everyday… Even if you couldn’t actually sleep with them due to the…well, death by snoot snoot (coitus), you wished to hear them. With his large hands roaming your body he found ways to give your body pleasure. He didn’t want you to do all the work. Whether it was kneading your breasts, pinching and teasing your nipples, or snaking his hand between your thighs, he wanted to do something to hear your voice. 

Your whines got louder when his fingers found that spongy spot that had your vision going white. “Ahn! Right there!” You cry out and feel that numbing sensation creep up your spine. Mucho snickers between his moans, he felt your hand squeeze his a cock a little tighter and pick up the pace. Seeing your face in total bliss, lit his fuse - he was gonna cum. Not waiting to waste the opportunity presented to him, he gripped your wrist, stopping your motions. You couldn’t even fight it, he was merciless. The combination of your thighs trembling and your juices coating his wrist, he knew he made you see the white pearly gates all over again. 

You collapsed against his shoulder, panting and overall a mess. Mucho’s real plan kicked in, he didn’t give you even 3 seconds to breathe before he lifted your hips and sunk you down on his cock. The sudden intrusion made you scream out in pain and pleasure. Pain from being stretched out and  pleasure as he made you cum again. “You came from me just putting it in? Fuck, (Y/N) - you’re such a good girl.” He coos in your ear and guides your movements. Slowly grinding you against him, he makes you feel his entire length - the fact that his veins were pulsing and rubbing against your velvet walls had you in daze. 

Mucho felt you clench around him the moment he called you a good girl. Oh, she likes to be praised? He thinks to himself and smirks. “You’re taking me so well, princess.” He moans in your ear and feels your body shiver. What followed was you clenching again, sucking him in deeper and a little whimper escaped your lips. “Mhn…feels s’good.” You babble almost incoherently against his shoulder. Before you knew it, he was bouncing you up and down his cock. He kept praising you and telling you sweet nothings. Even if this was a dream, he wanted to make it up to you. 

He got you to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore. You were an incoherent mess and moaning so loud that he thought his neighbors were going to start banging on his door. “I-ngh! I can’t anymore!” You cry out blissfully and dig your nails into his shoulders, making him flinch and grip your hips harder. The moment you called out his name, he felt his release clawing its way out and he painted your pretty walls white. Mucho felt the way your body collapsed against him, your head was resting on his shoulder and your heavy breathing was like music to his ears. He wrapped his arms around you and caressed the back of your head, gently stroking your hair and pressing you against him.

It felt surreal to have you in his arms, your body was hot and he felt your heart beating against his chest. There was no way this was just a dream. Mucho was smiling to himself and basking in the afterglow until the sudden sensation of a pinch on his shoulder snapped him out of his daze. Your teeth had his flesh between them in a rather crude bite. Before he could pull away, he felt his body go numb and he got lightheaded. The grip on your body loosened and everything went black…

END PT 1

[machineheraldandy]

RETROFANG: talking about the ship

Xina Kwan x Miguel o’hara

For the 1992-1995 spiderman 2099 comics, and the world of tomorrow 2099 comics that followed.

Welcome back to me rambling in a way that probably doesn’t make sense

Miguel x Xina is one of my comfort ships, something I love, it’s flawed, but beautiful, it tells a story that the writers no longer want to show which is upsetting, it’s flawed loved of two people who care for each other deeply but cannot bring themself to be together, one is self destructive, while one seeks for ways to help. A relationship to its core doomed to fail.

The first time we ever see Xina is when she is that of what we can assume to be around 12-13, both her and Miguel were young students attending school together, two people that would later stick together and not befriend anyone else that we can see, and from the very starts it’s love at first sight for Miguel, you can see with the way it’s drawn to the plot that falls that Miguel falls instantly In love, and it can be argued that Xina also fell in love, or at least let Miguel flirt without being uncomfortable. He gives her a glance, and turns his head to follow her as she does the same before they officially talk.

Later on it’s straight away to flirting, asking to go to the pool, a possible sign of trying to get what a child may consider a date in a way. They spend the rest of their school years friends, and helping each other, it appears that even if both In love, they decided to take it slow, become friends, then best friends, then lovers, a way to build up a healthy and trusting relationship, a relationship that shows Miguel waited years to be with Xina, waited years for her.

This is what I consider deep love, a love that movie, craved but also feared, a love he had to destroy in order to destroy himself

The next time we see Miguel with Xina is when he is moving into his alchemax apartment (it appears), which due to the way we assume Xina is, and how she is in general, even if she went to an Alchemax school, she doesn’t really like Alchemax, yet would do things in support of Miguel working there, she saw flaws in his design and yet hang on, because she loved him, it’s then hinted that they of course did it, but it also shows one of Miguel’s biggest flaws when it comes to Xina, he loves her, but waits too long to learn about her. In later times he learns what she likes, what she does, but here it’s shown that he didn’t even known his best friend had gotten a tattoo of her favourite real life person, something he would have known because they are seen to be best friends that stick together.

Which brings up the issue and possibly why their relationship ended so soon, yes Miguel definitely found Dana attractive, and was emotionally cheating in front of Xina, but at his core he wasn’t ready to be a good partner, he wasn’t ready for a healthy commitment, he couldn’t even properly care for what Xina loved, even after knowing her since they were basically pre-teens. Miguel was not a good man at this time, he’s he waited for Xina for years, but he was too much of a bad person to hold onto her after finally getting her,

You also take into consideration that he is self destructive, he loves Xina more than anything and therefore he had to destroy it fast, he had to find another fast to destroy what he had, he had waited years for a woman, he has her, now he has to get rid of her in a way she will never want him back, how does he do that? Cheating. Emotionally first, and then physically.

When we end up seeing them again it’s because LYLA is broken, LYLA who resembled Xina in the way of it being based off of her tattoo, Miguel doesn’t care for Marilyn Monroe herself, he cares for the fact she is xinas tattoo, hence him only now caring for xina’s interests, caring too late. He becomes desperate to fix her because she is in his way a way to be close to Xina without havent to be near her, he loves Xina, but he can’t return, he messed it up too much on purpose. Though that ends fast as he soon learns that the best person to go to, to fix LYLA is Xina, which could possibly also be seen as an excuse to see Xina again. Once let in the first thing he does is go to her bedroom, to remember the old times, to live in the past, the past he craves but can’t get anymore.

You also see that Xina who is still single and assumed to have stayed single after Miguel, still loves and misses him, her bedside photo is them together. She loves him, she wants him, but she hates him as of now.

Within this time we also see Jack, Xinas Android, Miguel mistakes him for a partner, and seems to be almost jealous, upset. More signs he still loves her even if engaged to Dana, you also see Xina making it clear she doesn’t want him there and hates him, but she doesn’t kick him out, and it’s clear as much as she was uncomfortable, she cared enough to listen, cared enough to help, and of course we know this was going to happen, as even if she claims she just wanted to see him “crawling back” as a joke, it’s clear from the photo in her room, that she wanted him back deeply.

When she talks to Miguel many things are clear, one she is lying about things and two she is desperate to be the one he needs the most, even if she doesn’t want to make that clear.

She lies when talking about why they dated she claims it’s because she felt sorry for Miguel, but once again her photo in her room proves that wrong, along side the fact that she caught Miguel cheating as she came home early to be with him and to make him happy, she deeply cared for him, it was never about his dad, it was always about their love.

You also see how she is almost trying to push him away and is mocking his fiancé, Miguel doesn’t stop her, almost as if he wants her to insult Dana, because truthfully he doesn’t care for Dana the way he should, he cares for her as he loves her as she is what he considered dumb, someone that can’t question him, someone that blindly follows. Yet he sees Xina as smart, independent, and important to him, he loves that about her, yet is also scared about that. Because it means she can help him see his errors, and he doesn’t want to be shown, he wants to remain blind

Next one I want to talk about is this comic panel, you see that Miguel is finally caring for her interests, he is taking the time to get her real old things such as a gumball machine, because he knows she loves it, he is caring enough finally, he knows what she likes, what she want, why she wants it, he cared for her deeply and after years is finally showing it. Only now

next bit in this panel Miguel mentions the fact he was going to end it, he directly tells Xina he is planning to end it in a way, and Xina instead of making a joke, instead of being her nasty self she has been a few times, instead asks him to join her on a trip. Alone. She cares for him enough that she is literally wanting to spend time alone with him as a way to possibly keep him alive but to also reconnect, something that shows her deep love for him, and deep need for him, and also just the fact she is a great friend. These are two people stuck in a bad world they suffer in that still care for each other deeply.

(NO image as I don’t feel comfortable with that)

SA mention

I am bringing up a scene we end up seeing soon into their trip together, a flashback to Kron attempting to harm Xina, this is poorly written and used as a way to show Miguel and Leon’s hate for each other, they directly use Xina getting SA’ED as a way to push two boys fighting. This is no doubt disgusting writing.

But in the sight of this being about Miguel and Xina it has to be bought up in the way that Xina would put himself in danger, and put his family at risk, risk being abused by George, risk loosing everything, risk possibly even being killed by George, to keep Xina safe, he before now refused to fight back, refused to lay a finger on Kron as he was scared for himself and his family. He was frightened, yet he risked it all for Xina. He did at a point nearly bail on Xina, he was scared the worse would happen to him, but in the end he Kepler her. He kept her safe, even if it was poorly written and should have been shown in a different way that didn’t make a man the savour of a woman facing SA

Nor that’s over we get into the venom arc, the arc where Kron as venom attacks Xina and Dana to get to Miguel, something that reveals Miguel’s even deeper connection to Xina, he out of impulse screams for Xina, he is more worried for her, though he is still very worried for Dana, in this he has to save both, he only successfully saves Xina, and Dana passes away, this isn’t used for shipping Xina and Miguel, in fact Xina ends up leaving. This is shown as a way to show their friendship only, they don’t get together, as they both mentally can’t, Miguel lost his fiancé even if he wasn’t the best partner, and Xina had survivors guilt, she hates herself for hating the woman that slept with her boyfriend, a woman who hates her interests (shown by how she hates Gabriel’s retro interests) she so ends up leaving, I can argue that this was the best ending for the comic, until Miguel and Xina returned later. They both weren’t mentally stable, they both yes loved each other, but they would have ruined each other if they tried again.

The next time we see Xina is when she is happy to see Miguel, even slightly seeming to mess around, she cares for Miguel still, and Miguel still cares for her, but she has seemed to move on, she doesn’t care for a relationship, she has a job to do, people to help, and tech to work on, but yet she is still close to Miguel, she still holds onto Miguel, she still in a way loves him, even if as of now that love is platonic, and the same can be said for Miguel, he is trying to find Gabriel, he doesn’t have time for trying to get with Xina,on top of that but they only see each other for what can be assumed to be less than 24/7’S, they aren’t ready to try again, it’s too quick, and the story handles that well, it doesn’t make them a couple, it makes them friends, who still may have feelings for each other.

In the end they end up leaving, Xina just had her best friend did, and Miguel still needs to find Gabriel, they never end up together, from there on Xina stops showing up, she doesn’t appear in canon at all, she is gone from Miguel’s life, if we don’t count time storm a non canon story; it has been nearly I believe 27 years since she was last since.

It is a bitter sweet ending to her story, and she doesn’t get seen again, but it’s also a bittersweet ending to Miguel’s orginal love life for 2099, after that they force him into Peter Parker’s love interests within stories, or he gets tempest from the past, not his time, which I still love, she just isn’t from comics I read. For the year 2099, for the future Miguel has no life without Xina, he is stuck literally and metaphorically in the past.

I would love to Xina come back, she is considered Miguel’s MJ, the endgame, the person he loves more than anything, and really when you see the writing, when you see what was done, that is completely true, it was written that they were doomed lovers, but they could easily become good partners with time and effort, and if Miguel stops being self destructive

In the end they didn’t work due to Miguel’s self harm, and due to the fact Xina wouldn’t deal with what which is good for her. But if Miguel gets therapy…maybe. They could work.

Over all good doomed lover plot, painful for everyone that wanted them together forever such as myself

But in a non canon comic when Miguel is mentally more stable, him and her are married, and ended up growing old together :)

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Hii India

You already said a few things about Harry taking a break.. now that the last show is over and Harry saying goodbye over Instagram, what do you think?

A lot of people have the opinion he’s going to be gone for quite a while now. Whatever it is I’m glad he’s taking the break. For me it’s a confirmation that he’s still dealing with the mess that fame is in a healthy way and I’m going to be here for when he decides to come back. I’m going to miss him so much though.

And I would love to hear your take on things. Do you think this is a goodbye for a longer time period? Or is it more an goodbye for him, to be okay with the fact that things might never be the same as they were during this tour? That his fame is changing and he accepts that he doesn’t have to control it?

Hi, love 🩵

Hmm. So, I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this, but practically speaking, for the first time, the set up of a new stunt is a hopeful sign. If they’re finding a way to keep Harry in the press, however low the profile (🤞🏼), it’s for a reason. My hunch is that he is tying up with Loewe in some way, and in that sense, I don’t think it will be long ‘til we see him again, physically (however infrequently).

But, I also think touring is tougher than he makes it seem, physically, mentally and emotionally. I think all the things he realized during COVID, about being a better son/brother/friend (and partner) is a driving force in this seemingly more urgent need to find balance. It’s certainly a shift from the way he was working/talking during Fine Line, but I also think that’s the point.

He’s now in a very rare “natural” break in his career as a musician. We haven’t had any confirmation that he’s re-signed with Columbia (although I have no doubt that he has), so for all intents and purposes, he’s currently publicly free from professional obligation for the first time in a long time (at least in terms of his music) and that is going to feel very, very odd for someone who’s been working essentially non-stop (whether in the spotlight or behind the scenes) for over a decade. I think that novelty and sense of impermanence is something he’s trying really hard to embrace; to meet with excitement rather than fear. So, for the most part, I stand by my original thoughts.

But, if I can add:

I think Harry is the kind of person that is very aware of the gravity of fate and sheer magic that has gone into his success. You can see it in the way he talks about there being “no reason he should be getting to do this instead of anyone else” and how “we’re all the same” and “this doesn’t happen to people like me very often”. In this way, I think there’s a constant groundedness about his person and an acceptance of the vulnerability of his career and his success — in other words, he knows that lighting really might not strike thrice, and I think he’s preparing himself for that. There was a moment on the last Late Late show, when he was comparing himself to Will Ferrell and he said something like “Will has longevity and I’m more a flash in the pan” (untrue, but I digress) and what struck me about that line was how acutely aware he is that things can change for him at any moment. It’s similar to his “whatever people say about you, it’s not true. If people say you’re the best thing ever, it’s not true” quote on Howard Stern; like I think it’s one of the themes of his life, having to have a firm hold on reality so that the ‘inevitable’ crash is manageable.

He also seems to be trying to learn from the lives of other musicians/celebrities, and take those lessons to heart by applying them to his life and his work. in the end, I think what he’s trying to do is just accept that there are no guarantees; that he doesn’t know and has no control over whatever happens to the world while he’s away or what he’s returning to. I think the reason it sounds so definitive and scary and existential is because it is all of those things, for him. This is a big change, and he’s giving it its space and weight for the first time, because it is the first time he’s been able to say a proper goodbye (1D hiatus was rushed, HS1 went directly into FL, FL ended abruptly during COVID… there’s a pattern.)

Bottom line though, is that I know for certain Harry fucking loves music and touring. It’s a compulsion, for him. It’s in his DNA. And that’s why I’m not scared that he’ll leave forever, because I’ve always hard the feeling his music nourishes him just as much (if not more) than it nourishes us. He does what he does for himself, and we’re a bonus, and as an artist, that is the best reason to do anything and the only reason to keep coming back to it, regardless of the uncertainty that awaits him.

Not to make this novel any longer than it is, but I’ve also had a recent thought that occurred to me: Harry is 29, which means he’s currently going through his Saturn return.

I’ve asked my therapist (who is also an astrologist) for a bit more literature on Saturn returns, cause I’m super curious about how that might be affecting him. (For background, all my friends got married around the times of their Saturn return, and both my best friend and I picked up and moved halfway across the world during ours so at least for the people in my life, it seems like it is consistent with big change, and from the way Harry is talking, it seems it might be affecting him the same way.) I’ll get back to you. 😉🪐

[darkhairedmenrule]

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO its tony

man

would you be oh so kind as to make an

papa's x gn reader with fluff :)))))))))))

pretty please with gay men on top

Comfort time with the Papas

These are just little comfort headcanons that I came up with, this should be gn! reader because I don't mention any pronouns. I hope you like them Tony <3 All of these are romantic but if anyone wants a platonic or spicy version let me know. Please be gentle, this is my first Ghost fic. Enjoy!

Primo- With Primo, I imagine you two often peacefully coexist in his garden. Whether it be that he is teaching you how to garden and the differences in all of his plants, or you already know about gardening and he trusts you to help. These early mornings or evenings allow you both to just spend time together without having to fill the silence. You always make sure that he actually takes breaks and doesn't push himself too far. You guys only work for maybe an hour or so, nothing strenuous, and after you walk back to your shared rooms hand in hand. After you guys clean up, sharing sweet kisses or hugs depending on what you are comfortable with, he asks you if you want a drink. If you are a tea person, he makes you an absolutely lovely cup of tea ( from leaves that he grew himself, we love a girlboss). If you aren't a tea person he will make you anything that you want, even learn how to make your favorite drink. With your drinks, you cuddle either in bed with a good book or watch a movie that you both like.  All in all, you both enjoy a sweet calm evening after your long often hectic days. He always is generous with his affection, whether that be kisses and cuddling or letting you talk and being there for you physically and emotionally. Primo just wants his darling to be happy and healthy and will do anything to make that happen( even if you have to convince him to get a TV or any new technology in his room). He is simply grateful and honored that he gets to share these sweet moments with you and to let his heart be full of love and affection. Primo is a sweetheart and I just wanna kiss his forehead <3

Secondo- With Secondo, I imagine that he is used to filling his free time with carnal acts of all kinds, which is perfectly fine but we are not focusing on that today. I think that like his older brother, Secondo would crave domestic normalcy and would never pass it up. I imagine you found out about his hobby after he realized that you were interested in more than one night with him. I can see you finding his paintings and asking him if it would be okay if you joined him, and of course, he would want you to join him. He may be more stoic in some aspects than his brothers, but this man has so much affection to give you. Regardless of your skill level, he is going to treasure any and every painting you make with him. I can imagine him either keeping them in your shared room or creating a little gallery that he keeps on his phone( yes he has one but you might have to help him with it sometimes). After you guys have decided to finish painting one evening, you guys clean up and he offers to make you a drink. If you aren't a big fan of alcohol, he has different mocktails, Italian sodas, or anything else you would like. You two would probably cuddle up on the couch or in bed, either enjoying each other's company with a good book, listening to music, or maybe even a movie. Secondo is happy to share the evening with you in any way that you want. He simply just loves to bask in the sweet affection that you two share and remind himself that he deserves this love <3

Terzo- I imagine that quality time with Terzo can be many things. Like his older brother, he enjoys carnal acts, but also just existing together. I imagine that you two would spend some of your free time baking together. Terzo may be clumsy at times but he enjoys baking, especially if he has a personal taste tester. He would love to have you help him or just simply watch him enjoy his process. He loves to fill the time by asking you about your day, what you are excited or upset about, and anything that you would like to talk about. During all of it, he just has a sweet love drunk smile on his face. When whatever he was making is finally ready for you both to eat, he makes sure to give you the first bite, and he wants you to be honest about the taste, texture, and overall experience. He is extremely interested in your thoughts and loves to hear you in general. He always makes sure to take note of your criticism or praise so that if he ever recreates or remakes anything it is the same quality or better. After you two have shared your little treat, he likes to make you a hot chocolate. I know he might not seem like the type, but I know in my heart that he enjoys hot cocoa. Makes it from scratch every time and uses the same recipe that Primo used when he and Secondo were little. Adds any toppings that you like to yours and insist that he made it with love. You both cuddle and enjoy your delicious hot cocoa with either him reading you a book, you reading him one, enjoying some music, or a movie that you enjoy. He adores these evenings where you both can be yourselves, with no expectations or chores to do. You both just get to be close and love each other and know that you are cherished by your beloved Papa <3

Copia-  With Copia, I just have to mention his beloved rat babies. If you are in love with Copia I just imagine you spending the little downtime he allows himself to be with his sweet fur babies. You two are just sitting with them all, giving them the love, treats, and attention that each little cutie deserves. He loves this, he gets to not only decompress and relax with his Amore but he also gets to be with his beloved pets. The rats all have their personalities and love to run around you both, so happy that you are home. If you wear hoodies or =clothing with bigger pockets they love to crawl in and take little naps with their beloved parents because congratulations you are the co-parent to these little rats. After they have their food, cuddles, zoomies, and a few snacks they go back into their cage to rest and cuddle with each other. With your kids all in bed, you both get ready for bed yourselves. You either help Copia with his Papal paints if he hasn't already taken them off or maybe take a quick shower together or separately. Either way, when you both are ready to relax for the evening you grab some of Copia's beloved Juice boxes and relax in bed. Whether your evening ends with playing some video games, watching him play or you both playing, watching a movie, or just cuddling in bed before you sleep, Copia reminds you just how much he adores you. This is where he can let himself be Copia, not just Papa and he is so grateful that you see the real him. He loves to spend his evenings with his favorite person, all cuddled up and cozy in bed, knowing that he is loved and adored.<3

[ms-scarletwings]

On Defective Irkens

“It is theorized that Tak may also be an Irken defect because-“

“Say guys do you think Skoodge is defective? He did a thing he wasn’t told to do once do you suppose-“

“Service Drone Bob's contempt for the Tallest is extremely abnormal, even for most defective Irkens…”

“Hints of the comms officer being a defective are seen when-“

Ohhh mauling the fan wiki writers grr biting biting thrashing and then turning around to the rest of you before I’m done, you bet, for I have sat and listened for over 12 years of leaps and speculations of this sort and now I’m now one of the ones who gets to have what the cool kids these days call a hot take on the matter.

By the end of this I’M going to bring up and expose who I actually think may be the only other defective Irken(s) in the show besides Zim, whom I’m aghast I haven’t seen anyone suggest before.

But before anything else, I want to front one preassumption center and loud.

It took me a long time to guess at why very few people can ever seem to get on the same page of what it actually means to call an Irken defective. Implicitly, the bulk of what we are given is that something can be wrong with a member of this species, and Zim is our prime and singular clear example of that. So there’s a ton of trying to find patterns between Zim’s behavior and that of other Irken characters. Weirdly (to me), a lot of people have, in their efforts, chalked the status up to a sense of rebelliousness or insubordination- a defectiveness in the manner of D&D illithids, stomping out disloyal break-aways from the collective hive mind with punitive wrath. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a cool concept, and it’s definitely closer to my opinion at least than the comparisons to real life mental disorders or disabilities. Not knocking the comfort or the enthusiasm, obviously.

From my view of the canon, I hope it’s at least apparent to other fans that “defective” isn’t some empirical measurement or status to Irkens. Look at the way they determine the defects from normal society. IRL, if I have a faulty device on my hands, there’s some way out there to tell me in a clear cut fashion if there’s a problem and what exactly it is. If it’s code, it can be scanned and debugged. If it’s mechanical, something can be seen, fixed physically. Most organic health problems are only different in the complexity of the matter, but the entire purpose of medical research is to come close as we can to bridging that gap. In Irk’s people, that line is rapidly becoming one long smear of wet chalk. I’m going on like this because if defective paks were akin to hardware actually being damaged, as Purple had put it, it doesn’t make as much sense that they are neither “fixed” nor given real, concrete diagnostics. The only way we know of that the aliens are tested in a since on this merit is by existence evaluations. And existence evaluations are anything but empirical, impartial events. They’re worlds more political and cultural than clinical.

Digest the terms we keep seeing all around the concept: Innocent, justice, trial/evaluation, Judgementia, these are terms of judicial courts and moral weight and sentencing. In effective practice,

Irk labels defects by what one does, not by what one is.

Yet, defection is presented as if that’s not the case, and there are reasons for that. Reasons that reinforce the current power structures and promote what its leadership has decided is healthy for the broader society. When Zim was merely re-encoded from invader status to food service work, it was a more secluded evaluation, presumably done on Irk. His only seen witnesses then were the Tallests and the single control brain dishing the judgement. His existence evaluation, on the other hand, rings more similarly to the IRL historical practice of literal “show trials”. Show trials were something that existed way less for the actual crimes of the accused and so much more for their audience, which, show trials are always for an audience. Three main points about them off the Wikipedia cuff:

• Typically, the defendant of such has already been determined to be guilty (oftentimes of completely fabricated transgressions), and the trial serves mostly to make a massive public spectacle and warning of the accused.

• They tend to focus on retributive punishment over correction. The disproportional brutality and lack of mercy is often the point.

• Their goals are propagandistic in nature, and there’s many notable examples to be found in the history of Nazi Germany, the USSR, and in witch trials across the world (because it was never just Salem).

A formality? Well, that much they couldn’t have more brazenly admitted to. Retribution? There’s hardly a more absolute punitive sentence I could craft up over obliteration PLUS Damnatio Memoariae. And as for the degree of spectacle, I will let you make your own observation here.

Believe it or not, the part where my comparisons along this line end with Existence Evaluations is that their standard for taking place isn’t actually this cartoonishly oppressive one that some fans try to make it out to be. In “The Trial”, Zim was not having his data read for some binary is/is not determination… he was having his experiences and actions interpreted by how much damage he has done against the Armada. He said it himself, that hotseat is reserved for criminals. Likely outright traitors and maniacs. Those who have given cause to alert the brains to a genuine existential threat to their civilization and who have repeatedly failed every opportunity given to redeem themselves.

Defective doesn’t just mean “different” to Irk. We’ve hardly seen an exploration of what the median Irken example even is, because the more we see of any one of these characters, the more they show us their eccentric uniqueness and will. Yes, Irkens are authoritarian; yes they’re over-militarized; yes, they’re a supremacist breed aligned under one ruling military… but listen, they are not literally The Borg, or illithids.

The biggest victims of this government itself are those races it colonizes. Average civilians on the other hand, they get to largely enjoy all the vices and pains and indulgences of hyper-space-capitalism. The height-ocracy may limit their opportunities, but even the lowest drones among them are supposedly hired into their positions in return for wages. Irkens are pretty selfish, but in a rugged individualism sense. It’s a dystopia of atomization instead of collectivization. If everyone had agreed that “defective” had anything to do with arrogance, free will, or an ability to feel one’s sense of self worth, no one would ever be pointing to Skoodge as a possible example. That guy’s the poster boy for what it means to be a “tool” in the derogatory sense. I’m not forgetting that he technically never even left his job. He was fired and more or less forced into hiding, and he’s still not even that perturbed over the whole thing.

Moreover, it also takes some extreme acts of harm to justify such a trial. Real harm- not rebellious attitude or even disrespect to authority. The control brains and the tallests alone get to define that threshold, and neither Tak’s/Zim’s insubordination nor Bob’s audacity concerned them enough for a ticket to Judgementia. In fact, they really don’t seem that bothered at all by deserters and those that abandon their encoded function. Tak is likely to be merely the responsibility of her janitorial squadron, the same way that enforcing Zim’s banishment was the responsibility of his Frylord. Because Irk actually does have standards of justice and layers of bureaucracy to work within when it comes to dealing with true malice. Small fry problems are for the lower rungs of the ladder to handle, until they become a higher priority by necessity. Incompetency alone isn’t a crime, either. The go-to punishment for failure in one function is demotion to a lower position. These are the only Irkens formally not allowed to change jobs, making what they do a kind of communal service or forced labor sentencing. Remember how Tak’s motivation for leaving Dirt wasn’t solely dissatisfaction with the grunt labor? Remember how she kept justifying her actions by the logic of fairness and setting things right? Not to mention how she fully made the Tallest aware of what she was up to and how her plan was well crafted enough to probably work out exactly like she wanted. Tak is utterly as loyal to the empire and competent as any invader. She was genuinely just dealt a shitty hand, and her response to it is at least understandable.

She even went to great lengths to identify and specifically target Zim and to use a planet that otherwise had less than no value to the armada’s operations. She is a great foil to Zim, but I can’t see how she’s any bit defective, only full of rage that she was screwed over by the actions of a real disgrace to their species. Genuinely destructive cases like Zim are an incredible rarity. Such a rarity that I can only guess it took this long for him to go to Judgementia because his degree of dysfunction outright baffles the system. It also would appear that it’s an event of such significance that it can only be set into motion by the command of the ruling Tallest. By murdering a couple of them, and then being a clown show for a couple more, he inadvertently bought himself some time.

And the crazy thing to remember here is that Zim doesn’t even understand that his actions are an existential threat to the Empire- that he IS a whole supervillain to his planet. This is how effective Irken programming and the education plugs are. They’re supposed to do 99% of the work of setting up the population, even the lowest drones, for not turning out like traitors to their kin in the first place. ALL of them grew up on a steady diet of the same drip-fed propaganda and essentialist ideology as their most militant soldiers. So I can see the logic behind the conclusion that the only explanation for criminals in their society must be outright brain damage or corrupted data… and I’m not gonna lie I do openly headcanon that the latter case is exactly what happened to bad egg Zim.

The limits of only having the one example in him notwithstanding, I’m anything but against theorizing about who else could be “worthy” in the Irken sense to also stand before those brains, playing sweaty advocate for the worth of their continued existence and all. I just don’t see it in Bob, or the Comms officer, or any other invader. Tak, there may be some hypothetical ramp to that end, in her future, but as things are right now, I only see a candidate that has become comfortable right in the control brains’ biggest blind spot of all. See, eggs don’t always have to crack in order to go bad. Sometimes, maybe they just spoil. Sometimes, I believe just the right conditions and time can turn them downright rotten.

Dramatic musical flourish, please.

I forget whoever said the quote “Power doesn’t corrupt, It just exposes who people really are”, but I’m a huge fan of the fact that they did. In my opinion, it’s less about power itself and more about a complete lack of accountability that allows the weakest and most toxic seeds to really fester in a seat of authority. Indeed, we all know that there is something pathetic, and vapid, and cruel floating around The Massive’s bridge. I am saying I’d call Red defective, but I couldn’t be certain enough with myself to say that Purple’s largely the one carrying a lot of fault. His greatest sin is his negligence and enabling his companion. whoever we can say shoulders more of the blame, they have been running this horror show as a joint unit, so they will both bear the guilt. Without a doubt, these two are terrible- popular maybe, but terrible leaders. Like, more responsible for the near ruin of their home world and species than I can even pin on Zim at this point. By almost every measure once you hold them up to Miyuki’s and Spork’s barely few moments of would-be screen time, they’re the worst Tallests for the Empire we’ve ever known. It’s too bad that they have no one over them we know of to flag them for an existence evaluation, because I am assured that the real orchestrators of the Armada would be disgusted to look over their track records since they took power.

I mean, what can I remember just off the top of my head?

- Full awareness of Zim’s blackout-causing history before the beginning of Operation Impending Doom I and not keeping a close eye on him, removing him from his position, or keeping him away from the homeworld’s WoMDs

- Overseeing the shipment of faulty equipment to Invader Tenn (even if the packages had not been switched, the Megadoomer still had a potentially fatal flaw), and then presumably NOT giving her urgent guidance/assistance to avoid being captured by native hostiles

- Showing an egregious amount of immaturity and frivolity when making logistical decisions, such as the flight path of the Armada or how conquered planets are utilized

- Repeated abuses of their standing, trying to extra-judicially get rid of subjects over the pettiest reasons (if they had the formal authority to just vaporize Skoodge, Bob, OR Zim on the spot, they wouldn’t need to come up with convoluted and indirect methods that they only hope kill said targets)

- Upon Zim returning to them from his banishment: not sending him back to Foodcourtia and not refusing to humor his wishes to larp as an invader

- Oh yeah, also granting Zim at least some invader tech and allowing him to leave Conventia in what I assume is a ship he could have only stolen

- Still not dealing with Zim with extreme prejudice in a timely fashion after the events of Backseat Drivers from Beyond the stars, or investigating enough to find out and deal with prisoner 777

- HAVING WAITED THROUGH ALL OF THE ABOVE BEFORE SENDING FOR ZIM’S EXISTENCE EVALUATION

- Spending the bulk of their reign so far dicking around in space and gorging themselves. Seriously, Red showed us one act of proactive competence… and it was in order to fix a mess that they allowed Zim to get them into. Not to mention, the Resisty got away from that scrap after thoroughly humiliating their flagship.

Red, and by extension, Purple, are the almighty, Tallest threats to the entire Irken project of galactic conquest, as much as Zim would have loved all the credit in the universe. By what they’ve done, and who they are. He might be damaged, but them? There’s some defective moral character if I’ve ever seen.