#tw: implied/referenced past noncon

[adaptacy]

could you do a pt. 2 to the johnny getting the reader pregnant? i wanna see what the family says when they find out— do they still want her dead or are they all about having more family members? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

hi~!! i was lowkey gonna make a part 2 anyways cause the brainrot started flowin so ofc!

tw: developing stockholm, implied noncon, forced preg, threats of cannibalism/death, etc

"Let's get you out of those clothes, hm?" Johnny offered, reaching down for the bottom of the shirt that hung loosely over your frame, practically engulfing it. He didn't have any clothes your size, and sure as hell didn't have the money to get any, so he'd simply given you his own shirts and had miraculously managed to convince Nancy to hand over two of her pairs of underwear. That made three including the underwear you'd been wearing when he captured you so long ago.

Yeah, you were hardly living lavishly.

You shifted, awkward and nervous as he pulled his shirt off of you, letting it fall to the ground. Even though the kisses he scattered over your neck were soft, even if the hands on your chest were gentle, he wasn't either of those things. He was rough, and inhuman, and despicable.

But he'd saved you, hadn't he?

You weren't sure what you preferred more; death or purgatory.

Johnny's hands slid down your waist and peeled off your underwear, letting it fall to your ankles as you hesitantly stepped out of it. His hands, thankfully, were removed from your skin and he stepped past you, running a bath as you slinked against a wall, your eyes on the floor.

After a few minutes, Johnny was lowering you into the tub, and although he began cupping water and pouring it onto your hair, he paused when he heard the front door open.

"I'll be back," he alerted, and you gave a small nod, continuing what he started as you washed yourself. Johnny left the room, and after a minute or two, you could hear Nancy's voice alongside his own.

"How much longer?" She asked, already sounding upset, and it didn't take you long to realize that she was referencing you.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Remember how I was tellin' you about-"

"Boy, don't play games. I'm tired'a you beatin' around this same damn bush all the time. You ain't been huntin', you ain't been stickin' round for dinner, yer always with that damn girl. It's past time," she demanded, and you winced, sinking further into the bathtub.

"Ma- Nancy, please, just listen'ta me for a sec. I know what you've been sayin', I- I know I was taking a long time, but-"

"You killin 'er or am I?"

"What?"

"Are you killin' her, or am I."

"Nancy, can't we just talk about this for a sec? I- I have somethin' I wanna tell you, it's 'bout the girl. I promise I ain't just stallin' fer time, it's just-"

"I'm done with it, Johnny. She's been distractin' you long enough," Nancy snapped, and you heard a heavy sigh from Johnny, and then footsteps. Approaching footsteps.

"Wait, wait, you don't- Let me talk to you, please!" Johnny strained, and you didn't think you'd ever heard so much emotion in his voice. He sounded like a kid trying to get himself out of trouble. Desperate, even.

"Johnny, I warned you's. I told you that so long as you was stayin' our hunter, it wouldn't be a problem. But she made it a problem. And it's her fault. Yer losin' sight o'yer goals," Nancy replied, her voice nearing you.

"No, I know what you mean, just- Nancy!" Johnny called out, and you could hear them enter the bedroom. You crossed your arms over your chest, and Nancy stomped closer and closer to the room. "Please, Nancy, she's pregnant!"

Just as he called after her, she stepped into the bathroom, her eyes landing on the store-bought test laying on the bathroom counter. Johnny stumbled in after her, standing next to her as he glanced between the test and the woman. "What the hell did you do, boy?"

Dinner was tense. Awkward. Uncomfortable.

Prying eyes from every direction. You just stared at your plate. You weren't hungry. You didn't even want to imagine what the meat was.

"Darlin', eat up. It's pork. Gotta keep healthy. Y'know. For them," Johnny encouraged, taking a seat next to you and gently nudging your plate towards you. You stared at it for a few more seconds, and you heard Johnny sigh, preparing to say something more, but you reached for your fork before he did.

You picked up a small slice of pork with the utensil, taking a small bite out of it. Tasted like pork. Felt like pork. You prayed it was.

"I think she's cute. Y'all will have cute babies," a girl giggled, and Johnny replied with a small smile.

"I- I never seen a stranger's baby 'fore. N-never seen a pregnant... victim 'fore, either..." A shaky male spoke, and Johnny's smile turned into a frown.

"She's not a victim," Johnny sighed, taking a bite out of his food.

"The hell have you gotten us into, boy?" Another male asked, this one sounding much older, but you didn't bother picking your head up to look at them.

"Can y'all just eat dinner?" Johnny growled, and you nearly flinched, the tone being scarily reminiscent of his demands while he was inside of you. You shifted at the thought, wondering if your situation meant that the sexual aspects of his.. interest in you would come to an end.

Something told you it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Does this mean I'll finally get a sister?" The girl said again, her grin apparent in her voice. "Oh, Johnny, yer such a sweetie. Gettin' me a girl I can talk.. girl stuff with," she giggled.

"She ain't yours. Not your sister or your friend."

"S-so... why ain't we eatin' her? What.. what makes her special?" The nervous one asked.

"Because Johnny needs to learn to deal with the goddamn consequences of his actions," Nancy sighed.

"So, he can keep 'er?" A still-giggling voice asked, and it earned a familiar sigh from Nancy.

"If he keeps huntin'. If not, she's our dinner. Babe or not," the woman answered, and even Johnny seemed a bit uncomfortable at the threat.

"I'll keep hunting. She ain't gonna be eaten."

[thewhumperinwhite]

WKW: Spine

Masterpost // Previous

@annablogsposts @whump-cravings @whumpitywhumpwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @favwhumpstuff @the-monarch-whumperfly @iboopsstuff (also: i finally added a taglist to my main wkw doc, so please send me a message if you wanna be on that list)

TW for: back injury; burns; Magical Injury/painful healing; guilt; Injury To The Degree That It Is Kind Of Body Horror; potential/partial paralysis; referenced past abuse/murder; referenced noncon; nonsexual nudity (brief/implied).

----

Night has barely fallen when they bring the dying Prince to Feira’s salon. By the time she has stitched him together enough to leave him sleeping on her table, his face shadowed and aura flickering but death no longer crouching on his chest, the sun is streaming through the salon’s single window and directly into Feira’s eyes. She collapses back into the single chair that sits opposite her table, wiping sweat and stray strands of grey hair from her forehead with the least bloody part of her sleeve.

It should not have taken this long.

Spines are delicate things, and the care with which she knits one back together will mean the difference between a Prince who someday walks again and one who doesn’t; but she has studied the inner workings of the spine extensively, ever since she put the Prince’s back together from whole cloth after his botched execution. This was never going to be easy, but it should certainly be possible.

It takes her twenty long, harrowing minutes to identify the problem, as she has never encountered anything quite like it before. The iron manacle, clamped to the stump of the Prince’s wrist, is drinking in her magic. Sucking it up like a rag in a puddle. By the end of that first twenty minutes, she is sweating with effort, the Prince is still writhing with the effort of each breath, and when she happens to brush the manacle with the back of her hand, she draws back with a hiss. The metal is hot enough to burn her skin.

Feira is familiar with iron as an insulator against magical energy, of course. Magic-resistant armor is always made of iron; one of the earliest ways to recognize magical aptitude in a child is a rash-like reaction to the touch of iron. But she’s never seen anything like this before. She takes hold of the Prince’s wrist to examine the manacle—seeing, now, the way his skin is already reddening from the heat—and sees the unfamiliar rune welded into the metal. It can be no accident: it must be an intentional damper on the Prince’s magic.

There are—implications, there. About the fall of Fourshield House; about claims that the White Crane has made. None of which Feira has time to think about now, while the Prince is dying on her table, and she does not have the key to his cursed shackle.

It is—not an insurmountable obstacle. But it does mean that Feira must dig deeper into her Patron’s magical reserves than she ever has before, must strain her own aura to the point of pain and dig deeper into the Prince’s soul than she would ever have done given the choice—and must close her eyes to how the skin of his arm reddens and then blisters. The Prince slips in and out of awareness throughout the night; sometimes he is even awake enough to beg for mercy, though he never seems coherent enough to know who his torturer is, and Feira is shamefully grateful for that.

In the end, he still—has an arm, however useless it is without a hand attached. It is a horrible sun-scorched red up to the elbow; the place where the manacle once touched skin has burned down deep into the flesh beneath; in between the skin has bubbled and blistered in ways that make Feira have to stop in the middle and waste seconds she doesn't have gulping air and trying not to be sick. And even then—a spine is a finnicky thing. She may have twisted his arm beyond repair without even returning the use of his legs. She doesn’t know. Certainly he will be well within his rights to hate her to the end of his days, for these hours of torture if not for the years of neglect that preceded them.

But he does not die.

----

Thorne does not expect to fall asleep, not even when he gives up on pacing the hallway and sits down outside the Healer’s door with his forehead pressed to his knees and his eyes squeezed shut. Andry is not screaming as much, by then. Thorne doesn’t know if that means the pain has lessened, or the Prince’s throat has simply given out.

He doesn’t know how long he sleeps; he doesn’t even know it's happened until he hears his Master’s voice—he knows it immediately, even in sleep, and is halfway to his feet before he is fully awake or his Master has finished the sentence—say, “What are you doing here?”

Thorne snaps to attention, though he has to grab the wall to keep from falling over while his vision clears. Morden is looking at him with blank surprise but no anger, thank the gods. Morden looks like he hasn't slept, either, and for some reason there is a smudge of blood near one corner of his jaw, like he has tried to wipe it away and not quite succeeded.

“Master,” Thorne says, his mind blessedly blank with relief. “I was—” Part of him knows he is not being careful enough, that he is too tired and wrung out to pay attention to what he says, that he must no better, by now, than to speak to his Master without thinking first.“Someone—I wanted to—they almost killed him, Master,” he blurts out. He sounds like a child to his own ears; high pitched and near tears.

Morden blinks at Thorne. Thorne cannot read his Master's face. That sends an immediate spike of panic into Thorne's guts that brings him halfway back into his body, thankfully. He pulls himself together, with a mighty effort, and bows his head properly, like he is giving an ordinary report, and his voice is almost steady, this time.

“There was an attempt on the Summer Prince’s life, Master,” Thorne says, without lifting his head. “I was—absent from my quarters at the time. I apologize for not taking more care with your gift.”

He should say more. He should tell Morden about the guards. Even if... they were enlisted men, not officers, but Morden might still notice their absence. Thorne didn’t even think to look around the Healer’s room' their bodies might be right inside the door for all he knows. He should tell Morden.

(The word "gift" shouldn't make his mouth fill up with bile, like he's going to gag on what his Master has given him. He should be anticipating his Masters needs and striving to meet them. He shouldn't be thinking about his Master's needs and feeling—feeling—)

(Morden, for his part, is afflicted with a strong desire to laugh. Thorne, his head still bowed, does not see this. Morden schools his features carefully before Thorne meets his eyes.)

“…I see,” Morden says. “And was that attempt successful?”

Thorne shakes his head.

“No, Master,” he says. “No, he—he’s alive. But—I—they—” The words do not want to come. But his Master is watching, so he makes them. “His back is broken, I think,” he says, though it comes out thin and whispery and wrong.

Morden raises his eyebrows. Thorne looks at the blood on his Master’s jaw. His Masters next words are muffled by the sudden buzzing in Thorne’s ears.

“I imagine he'll be fine,” Morden says, and brushes past him to open the Healer’s door.

----

Andry knows the ceiling of the Healer’s room as soon as he opens his eyes. It is decorated with vines and fruit and beehives, sculpted out of white plaster, cracked a little with age.

He feels cracked that way himself. He doesn’t try to move his arm, but even in stillness it feels

(like it is filled with crawling insects who are eating it from the inside like old wood like it is in a sleeve of struck matches like it has swollen so far that the skin has split like rotten meat left in the sun)

bad.

The door of the Healer’s room opens. Andry does not see who has entered, at first; he only sees Lady Feira, the old Court Healer, leap to her feet, placing herself bodily between him and the intruder.

“No,” Lady Feira says, in thickly-accented Leisevan. “No visitors. Get out.”

“Now is a bad time to be in my way, Madam Healer,” the Winter King says in a soft, gentle voice. His Craetan is very good, as always.

Andry feels his heart stutter painfully in his chest, but it has been a long, long night, and he is too tired to feel properly afraid.

Lady Feira is shaking her head. “No. It is enough. You have done enough, you will do no more, I will not—”

Andry takes hold of the Healer’s wrist with his good hand. She stills, though he can feel that she is trembling slightly.

“It’s alright, Feira,” he rasps.

Lady Feira turns to look down at him, over her shoulder. She looks—stricken in a way he has never seen her look before, even when his fever came back a few weeks after his back had begun to heal. He might feel sorry for her, in a few hours. He is too tired for it, just at the moment.

Lady Feira removes her spectacles and rubs her eyes, letting her shoulders sag and not looking at either Andry or Morden.

“Fine,” she says, after a moment, in Craetan. “Fine. Speak, Winter King; but do no more or you will waste the hours I have just spent keeping the Prince alive.”

Andry can see just enough of Morden over the Healer’s shoulder to see him cross his arms and raise his eyebrows at her expectantly. The Healer swears under her breath. She turns back to Andry.

“Don’t try to move,” she says curtly. Her expression seems more under control, though her eyes are still tight with misery. “I won’t go far.”

It’s—kind enough, as a sentiment. Andry knows she can do less than nothing against Morden, any more than he can. It’s nice that she's—thinking of him, he supposes.

Morden watches her leave. When she has closed the door behind her, he turns to look down at Andry, narrowing his black eyes.

Morden pulls up the Healer’s chair and sits down beside the sickbed. The Healer has draped a blanket across Andry's chest; it is the only thing between him and the Winter King. Andry tucks his ruined arm underneath it.

“Alright, Summer Prince," Morden says. "You've got my attention. Tell me about your sister.”

[serickswrites]

Whump One Shots

Here are all my one shots (can become series by request!) organized by theme (this is the first of many)

Whump

That Didn't Work Out as I Intended--TW: implied/referenced kidnapping; hurt/recovery; trauma response: flight and freeze

Definitely Not--TW: kidnapping, torture, future torture, restraints, creepy/intimate whumper

Just Watch--TW: kidnapping, confinement, creepy/intimate whumper

Let's Kiss--TW: noncon; assault, future assault, kidnapping, self-sacrifice, creepy/intimate whumper

You Can't Quit On Me Now--TW: kidnapping; blood; hospital; wounds; mild description of gore; major character injury; recovery and aftermath

Idiots--TW: referenced kidnapping; implied torture; helplessness

If I Have to Tell You Again--TW: kidnapping; creepy/intimate whumper, implied torture, noncon, defiant whumpee, conditioning

Horribly Wrong--TW: kidnapping; future/implied/referenced torture; beatings; restraint; forced to watch

A Mask--TW: kidnapping; blood; death; character death (temporary)

Impossible--TW: referenced torture; hurt/comfort; hurt/aftermath; recover/aftermath; reluctant whumpee; hospital

Kind of Fun--TW: suffocation; blood; creepy (not intimate) whumper; defiant whumpee

Moon--TW: blood, major character injury, restraints, captivity, stabbing, rescue, caretaker and whumpee

Stars--TW: mentions of torture (electrocution, beating, whipping, waterboarding), attempted drowning, bound, forced to watch 

Rain--TW: past abuse/torture, recovery/aftermath, conditioning, burns, break with reality

Wake Up--TW: torture, burns, kidnapping, creepy whumper, blood, future torture implied

Lost--TW: restraints, rescue

Flirt--TW: wounds, injury

Movie--comfort, vaguely referenced whump

DND--TW: kidnapping; torture; blood

Late--TW: restraints, torture, defiant whumpee

Sleep--TW: torture, creepy/intimate whumper, water torture

Braids--TW: kidnapping, restraint, gags, torture, creepy/intimate whumper

Call Me, Maybe?--TW: kidnap, rescue, injury, referenced torture, restraint, gags, seizures

Smile--TW: kidnapping, creepy/intimate whumper, noncon, future assault, past assault (assumption)

Earth--TW: kidnapping; burial; buried alive; rescue attempt

Gone--TW: recovery/aftermath, discussion of suicide (very very passive ideation), implied torture

Five Minutes--TW: kidnapping, torture, blood, creepy/intimate whumper

Flowers--just comfort, vague implication of past whump

Tree--TW: restraint; kidnapping; defiant whumpee

Hush--TW: ball gag, gagging, noncon, implied kidnapping, creepy/intimate whumper, defiant whumpee

Ghost--TW: character death, death of a loved one

Snow--TW: kidnapping, escape attempt

Reunion--TW: past mention of trauma/abuse; dissociation; comfort; hospital; mention of blood

Taste--poisoning

Five--TW: kidnapping; torture; blood; stabbing; creepy/intimate whumper; conditioning

Beloved--TW: past abuse/trauma; aftermath/recovery

Sizzle--TW: restraints; mild depiction of gore; branding

Countdown--TW: kidnapping; torture; referenced murder

Here?--TW: kidnapping; beating (aftermath); hallucinations; referenced character death (major)

Sleep--TW: sleep deprivation; kidnapping; torture; restraint; defiant whumpee

Song--TW: hospital; coma? (honestly idk what medically is wrong with whumpee....); aftermath and recovery; implied torture; implied kidnapping

Shoulder--TW: gun; blood; gunshot; wound; mild depiction of gore

Snap--TW: escape attempt; broken bones; torture (mild); kidnapping (implied)

Crackle--TW: sickfic (maybe, idk what caused Whumpee’s pneumonia--which is what this is y’all if you didn’t know lol)

Pop--TW: restraint; kidnapping; dislocation

Cook--TW: kidnapping

Shirt--hurt/comfort

Roses--TW: non-con drug use, creepy/intimate whumper

Unsure--TW: aftermath; trauma aftermath; hurt/comfort; hurt/recovery

Better--TW: captivity; kidnapping; implied torture; referenced botched rescue attempt

This--TW: self sacrifice elements

Lies--TW: torture, blood, knives

Anniversary--TW: captivity, non-con, drugging, restraints, creepy/intimate whumper

Touch--TW: referenced captivity, hurt/aftermath, referenced blood, implied kidnapping, implied torture

Wake Up--TW: implied kidnapping; mcd; noncon drug use; poison

Sea Sick--TW: cruel whumper, seasickness

Dropping the Eaves--TW: captivity; physical assault; implied torture

On My Way--TW: no express whump warnings, but pain is coming

Sick--TW: creepy/intimate whumper

Tired--TW: blood, unconsciousness, hurt/aftermath

Sense--TW: implied kidnapping/captivity

Worse--TW: injury, blood

Writing--TW: hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, implied torture, implied kidnapping

Missed--TW: implied torture, implied future violence, rescue

This is a nightmare--TW: referenced kidnapping, referenced torture

Wrong--TW: captivity, restraint, torture

Wonderful--TW: kidnapping, torture, restraints, non-con, sexual assault, blood

Hug--TW: hurt/aftermath, referenced kidnapping

Stubborn--TW: captivity, torture

Try--TW: abduction, implied future torture

G'Morning--TW: implied noncon, restraints, creepy/intimate whumper

Interesting--TW: choking, implied noncon, creepy/intimate whumper

Last Chance--TW: kidnapping, restraints

So Many--TW: restraints, implied torture, stress position, noncon, creepy/intimate whumper

Goodbye--TW: self-sacrifice

Happen--TW: hurt/aftermath, blood, unconsciousness

Plan--TW: hurt/aftermath, hospital, broken bones, head injury

Unexpected--TW: bindings, gags, restraints, implied noncon, creepy/intimate whumper

Stay Down--TW: head injury, blood, physical violence, gun

Struggle--TW: kidnapping, sensory deprivation

Blood--TW: blood, blood loss, knives, stabbing, gore, caretaker and whumpee

Bad Dream--TW: kidnapping, torture, restraint, drugging, creepy/intimate whumper, hurt/aftermath

To Annoy--TW: stress position, whipping, blood, violence

Let Me See--TW: blood, wounds, gunshot, sprains, self-sacrifice

Cold--TW: hypothermia, hospitals, rescue

Dreaming--TW: mcd, referenced death

Bolt--TW: arrow wound, wound, blood, losing consciousness

Worse Ways--TW: threats of death, electrocution, defiant whumpee

Spiked--TW: drugging, referenced kidnapping, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort

Why Care--TW: hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

My Heart Belongs to You--TW: medical whump, blood, gore, blood loss

Yandere Whumper Request--TW: yandere whumper, captivity, non-con, restraints, gags

Self-Inflicted--TW: captivity, blood, knives, self-harm, escape attempt

Shrapnel--TW: explosion, blood, wounds, unconsciousness, self sacrifice

Alright For Now--TW: Hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, tbh this is just fluff

Don't Leave--TW: hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, implied sensory deprivation?

Like That--TW: torture, knife, blood,, defiant whumpee

Safety--TW: torture, captivity, restraints, electrocution

Clown--TW: captivity, torture, wounds, whipping, restraints, defiant whumpee

Promise--TW: implied torture, kidnapping/captivity, mcd (maybe? you pick your ending folks: does team arrive in time to save whumpee? or do they just find caretaker? the world may never know)

[danses-with-dogmeat]

HI I LOVE YOU AND CONGRATS ON 1.5K!!

BIGHORNER - How do you think Joshua Graham's first time with f!six will go? Considering maybe this is his first time since the injury?

Well this is a fantastic suggestion right out of the gate, omg.

And AHH I LOVE YOU TOO, thank you!! <33

I wasn't sure if I should do more thoughts/headcannons on this, or a drabble, but it ended up a drabble, so hopefully that's okay 😅

NSFW below the cut! Minors please don't interact!

(also brief tw for Legion bullshit, nothing explicit, but implied/referenced past misogyny and noncon)

Joshua hissed through his teeth, and you immediately noticed the way his brows crinkled together above his sharp, blue eyes.

"Everything okay? Did I hurt you?" You backed off, removing your hands from his chest and lifting yourself briefly from where you straddled his lap.

His hands quickly went to your hips, firmly pulling you back down onto him. The action made your own brows raise high on your head.

"Don't stop." He whispered, the words leaving him almost like a growl. Joshua's gaze held yours hostage as his warm breath fanned over your face.

"The pain is worth it."

You gasped as his rough lips pressed to yours, as he nipped at the soft skin he found there. His hands dug into your waist, only just containing themselves as the missionary poorly attempted to hold himself back.

It was strange, after so long. Joshua didn't think he was capable of feeling need like this anymore. The way it consumed him before, those nights within the walls of the Fort, behind the flaps of his tent, or out beneath the stars, even in the sand beside the campfire in the center of it all, it didn't matter. When a man in the Legion lusted, his need was always satisfied.

Now, it seemed so barbaric, so animalistic, but... if he'd been that way before, he knew he was capable of such ferocity again, such relentless passion.

But after his violent baptism, could he allow himself to give in to such basal urges once more?

With you, it seemed so.

Anything that burned made his pulse quicken, anything that touched him caused pain, but you were the exception in all things. The way you made his chest fill with fire that spiraled through his body only made him want to consume you more, the more your searing touch was placed upon his ravaged skin, the more he wanted to feel it. Feel the pain, despite it all. Feel you against him, no matter how it hurt.

"But..." You tried to speak through his ministrations, the words coming out breathy and weak against his lips as they crashed to yours time and time again. As though he couldn't be sated.

Joshua grunted, perhaps meaning for you to continue, even as he drew a hot line of feverish kisses along your jawline, and down to the sensitive skin of your throat.

"But I don't want to hurt you, love."

Your partner pulled away slowly, as though that too pained him, the grips of his hands tightening on you all the more to compensate for the loss of his lips against you.

He shook his head firmly at your statement, but there was a softness in his expression now.

"Darling," one hand came up to tenderly brush his fingers over the apple of your cheek, "I can assure you, it would pain me so much more to stop."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, as heat gathered deep within you at his words, and you could only nod to him, as Joshua set his lips upon you again.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Do You Trust Me? (Nate/Danny)

CW: FLUFF. Mild-to-moderate spice (like PG-13 level, still SFW), references to past noncon/violence but this is really just fluff and the leadup to the next Nate and Danny piece (which will be, ah, spicier)

Tagging the Danny crew: @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @finder-of-rings, @whumpywhumper, @pumpkinthefangirl, @special-spicy-chicken, @whale-whumps

Nate had just undone the top button on Danny’s jeans and pulled down the zipper, his fingers closing around the waistband to shift them down over his hips, when Danny tensed up. He felt the sudden change in the air around them - the both of them could read the mood of a room in a breath or less, after years with Bram - and went still. 

His elbows were sinking just slightly into the mattress on either side of Danny, the other man’s legs underneath him, and he could feel the moment Danny’s body went from relaxed to muscles locked, the full-body shiver that gave Nate the information he needed to know what would come next.

Danny’s voice, when he spoke, was shaking. “I’m, I’m sorry, Nate, I… I can’t. I have to stop.” 

Nate pulled back from Danny’s stomach, his mouth still buzzing with the warmth and slight salt-taste of his skin, the hint of reddish hair trailing downwards when he’d pushed his shirt up, started exploring the slight rhythm of shadows along his ribs and licked and kissed his way down from collarbone to navel.

Just below that, the bandages that covered the word that had been carved into him, and Nate had carefully avoided that area, kissed around the sides, felt the slight roughness of the adhesive tape that held the gauze on against his lips. 

It wasn’t the first time he had kissed parts of Danny wrapped in gauze - just the first time he wasn’t in Canada when he did it. 

He’d been making his way further down, listening to the way Danny’s breathing sped up, feeling hands tangled in his thick black hair, the slightest shifting movements of stomach, hips, legs. All of it familiar, all of it what he’d been dreaming about since long before they’d ever been free. Just he and Danny, alone together.

Without the threat of Bram breathing down their necks, telling them what to do or when to move, with perfect total freedom in each other.

It had been so good, until that moment. Nate’s hand had slid over the rough denim on the inside of Danny’s thigh, running up the seam with featherlight fingertips, hearing the softest moan from Danny’s mouth as a kind of gift he could never earn, could never deserve. He’d settled his good hand over him and felt Danny stirring to life, rubbed his palm in a slow circle and felt hips jerk up to press harder into his touch. 

Nate’s mouth had gone dry - fuck, how he’d missed this, how he’d missed touching Danny. Kissing him more than the quick, light bits of affection that he meant - and he loved those, too - but he had missed this. Intensity, Danny’s tongue moving against his, pulling a little at the red hair until Danny groaned at the feeling, biting at his neck with just the barest graze of teeth, feeling the twist of Danny’s head until he could return the feeling.

It might be fucked up - Nate wondered, privately, if he was wrecked by Bram in ways he couldn’t come back from, that he still wanted Danny so badly even after everything he’d been made to do to him… and sometimes, in darker moments, what it said about Danny that Danny still wanted him.

But in this moment, together, all Nate had been thinking about was the hint of softness in his stomach where the new weight was coming back, the hips moving into his hand as he kissed his way down Danny’s stomach.

Then Danny froze, and when he did, so did Nate.

Those whispered words came out, thick with guilt and worry and fear. Nate moved back without a moment’s hesitation, even as his body ached at the sudden lack of contact, a heavy awareness between his legs of desires held off or denied. Not the first time. “Wh-what’s wrong?” He asked, but there wasn’t any question as to what was wrong, only exactly how wrong it was. 

“I c-can’t, can’t, um, can’t do any… can’t.” Danny’s voice went high and airless, his breathing going shallow. When he wriggled Nate shifted immediately over to the side to let him extricate himself, watching as Danny rolled right off the bed in one smooth motion, an expert by now at escaping.

Danny stood with his belt undone and the button on his jeans open, fabric hanging off skinny hips just starting to take on more of the natural well-fed shape they’d had before he was taken, a hint of shadow and skin showing how much he had loved Nate’s touch, until he didn’t. The wide blue eyes stared at nothing, but they were white-rimmed, and frightened.

Danny was breathing hard - too hard for what they’d been doing, lying on the bed just trying to move slow, push things a little further here and a little further there. If Nate put a hand to his chest now, he knew, Danny’s heart would be pounding hard enough to feel like it would burst right out, bleed fear all over himself, paint red over all the places Bram had made him believe were ruined.

Nate didn’t try to catch him or pull him back, only lifted himself up on one elbow and stayed right where he was lying on his side. It would be safer, to Danny, if he didn’t move, if Danny could do what he was doing now - stepping away from him, putting distance between them, keeping himself angled so he knew exactly where Nate was as he crossed the room.

It hurt Nate a little to watch it - hurt even more not to go to him to try and soothe the fears - but Danny needed the space.

Danny’s scarred hands worried at each other, the calloused fingers of his right hand tracing the lines Bram had cut over his left, grazing lightly over the small silver ring he wore on his left ring finger that said SURVIVOR, to remind him even when Danny didn’t believe it. Fingers found their way around the circle of scars that wrapped his wrist, traced back up until the thickest scar disappeared into his short-sleeved T-shirt. Danny pulled shirt back down to cover up his stomach, the old welts and scars there light pink and in the right light you could barely see them.

Nate hadn’t minded them in the woods, and he still didn’t. Evidence, in his mind, that Danny was stronger than anyone gave him credit for.

The line of red scarring around his mouth, nose, and jaw stood out in a face gone pale, blue eyes glittering with a sudden spike of fear. 

“Just b-b-breathe slow,” Nate said, still looking up at him from his place on the bed. His body throbbed, a little, anticipation frustrated - he’d been so hopeful, and he shifted uneasily to try and damp down the weight, the awareness of his own want. 

Danny nodded, a little too quickly, dragging a hand over his own face and jerking in a breath. “I-I’m sorry, Nate, I was fine-… and then I wasn’t, I…”

“It’s oh-okay,” Nate soothed, slowly sitting up, keeping himself at a pace that wouldn’t frighten Danny any further. “I said we’d d-do anything and eh, everything at your p-pace and we will. Do you w-w-want to talk about it?”

Danny swallowed. “I was fine,” He repeated, but in a soft half-whisper. “I was fine, and it felt really, really good, and then I, um, I remembered that’s it’s… that’s letting you-… it’s against the rules. I’m not allowed. B-Bad, um, Bad Red, bad dog… I just… then I couldn’t. I can’t. N-Not allowed. I’m n-not allowed except when it’s for, for someone else, I… not… not allowed.”

There was a rage inside of Nate that flared, just a little, whenever Danny talked like this. When he repeated Bram’s rules, when they still wound around him like the barbed wire Bram would twist around his wrists, his neck, make him wear like a crown of thorns all day long, Bram tightening and adjusting and playing until thin trails of blood ran down Danny’s gorgeous face.

He had to swallow back the rage, each time, because it wasn’t Danny he was angry at. It was harder, every time, to hide behind the placid mask that Danny needed, because when he was like this getting angry - even just in his general direction, even if not at him - would lead to Danny tearing himself apart trying to apologize, to do better, to be good. 

Nate would have sooner died than try to call Bram in his prison to yell at him for what he’d done, and so the rage had nowhere to go. Bram would only have enjoyed hearing about it, anyway - he had made it clear through his lawyer more than once that he would love to have his boys call or pop by for a visit now and then.

Nate would have gone for a visit, if he could have been promised ten minutes alone with Bram and a knife.

Finally, he pushed himself to seated and watched Danny’s long legs as he moved back and forth around his room, a half-circle of pacing around the bed and back, trailing fingers on top of his desk like he had to remind himself where he was, who he was - and maybe he did.

“S-So not th-th-that, yet,” Nate said, trying not to let his disappointment show. He’d wanted to do that for Danny ever since they’d first met - but in the woods it was against Danny’s rules, the rules that crowded all the rest of his thoughts out of his brain, replaced them with a single-minded focus on whatever you want, Abraham. 

“I’m sorry.” Danny stopped pacing, turning to look at him, earnest and worried. “I’m sorry, Nate. I want to, with you. I want to so badly, but I-… when I start to feel good, I… can’t. Not if it, not if…” 

Nate swallowed again, and nodded. He didn’t need the rest of the sentence he knew how it ended: not if it’s not for your pleasure, not mine.

They’d made so much progress, but three steps forward always came with two steps back, especially… especially in moments like this. 

“It’s okay, Danny,” Nate said softly. He pitched his voice deep and low, stayed where he was, but held out his hands, giving Danny the opportunity, the option. “We’ll j-j-just sit, oh-okay? Just sit t-together. Would you b-be able to s-sit with me?”

Never an order. Never a command. Always a request, an option, with the ability to say no a necessary weight in the air between them. Danny had worked so hard to relearn how to turn down something - anything - he didn’t want to do.

There was a pause, and then Danny nodded, moving hesitantly towards him and climbing up into the bed. He didn’t sit, though - instead he stretched his long body out on the bed, laid his head on Nate’s thigh, and slid his arms up and around his waist, holding him tightly. The soft red hair pressed back against Nate’s left hip and he took in a breath.

All he wanted was to show Danny, prove to him that it didn’t have to hurt. That he could help him relearn how to be together in ways that didn’t involve letting Abraham hurt him first, that he could teach him how to feel good all for himself without guilt, without panic. All he wanted was to be able to express how much he cared for Danny the way he should be able to, the way normal couples could do.

But they were anything but normal, weren’t they?

Nate ran his good hand absently through Danny’s hair, and felt the arms tighten just a little around him. 

“It’s okay if I don’t want to,” Danny whispered, but there was a hesitancy there, a shaking in his voice that Nate had heard a hundred times before. 

He leaned over, curving his back as he bent forwards enough to bend over Danny, laying one arm over his side, using his bad hand - just two fingers, barely an ache - to tilt his head back just a little.

Nate kissed his forehead. “It’s oh-okay if you d-d-don’t want to,” He confirmed, and felt some of the tension in Danny’s body relax. 

It’s okay, it’s always going to be okay, but God if you don’t drive me crazy sometimes wanting you and not being able to have you.

“I’m still good if I don’t want to.”

Nate sighed, shifting back to lay back down, on his back this time, pulling Danny close so the redhead laid on his side with his head on Nate’s shoulder, Nate’s arm around him. So he could just turn his head to kiss the red hair, the wavy bits that fell over his eyes when he was scared. Tilting Danny’s chin up again, he kissed at the scars over one cheekbone and then the other, tilted his head back down to press his lips gently to the little dip at the bridge of his nose. 

Danny’s eyes closed, slowly, copper eyelashes nearly faded against his skin and the scattering of freckles that had dominated his face before Bram had built the scars to make sure he could never go anywhere, ever again, without everyone knowing what you are.

“Y-you’re still good if y-y-you don’t want, want to,” Nate said softly, and kissed his forehead. “You’re st-still worthwhile if y-y-you never w-want to again,” and he kissed his cheeks again, one and then the other. “I st-st-still love y-you, and y-you’re still good.”

He kissed Danny’s lips this time, felt the hesitancy before Danny pressed back, moved against him so Danny was the one laying over him. 

“I love you, too.” Danny trailed fingertips over Nate’s chest, through the dark hair there, and for a moment everything was quiet. Nate focused on relaxing his overwrought body, the body that still wanted and wanted even though Danny wasn’t ready, yet - and they had gotten further, lately, than they had before. 

Danny was making progress, piece by piece, day by day. 

They’d get there, even if they hadn’t gotten there yet. Nate could - and would, and was willing to, was happy to - wait. 

“Wh-what if you only love me because of what Abraham did?” Danny said, his voice low, as if admitting to some terrible secret, asking some forbidden question. Nate sighed, letting green eyes drift to stare up at the ceiling, the slow lazy movements of Danny’s ceiling fan. 

“What if I d-d-do?” Nate asked back, and felt Danny tense up. “W-wait, let me f-f-finish. If w-we fell in l-love because of what happened to us, is that s-so different than p-people who meet during a n-national disaster? Danny… I w-w-want to get one day to where h-he can’t come between us any, anymore. I t-t-talk to Dr. Rosa about it a lot. But… he’s always g-g-going to be the thing that m-made us who we are.”

“Which version of me did you like better?” Danny said, and his voice was low, and small. There was a second question under the first, one Nate did not quite understand. But the worry and vulnerability in Danny’s voice nearly stopped his heart.

“Wh-what?”

“Did you like me better before, or now?”

Nate frowned, trying to wait a beat, to make it seem like he was thinking even though his answer was already there. He’d talked to Dr. Rosa about this, too. “Danny, there’s only one y-y-you. The you m-made of what y-y-you’ve lived through. There’s no “Before D-Danny” and “After Danny”. There’s no difference. You’re still th-the core of y-y-you, just the way you al, always were. Remember when w-we met? I th-thought you were b-b-beautiful then. I th-think you’re beautiful now. All of y-you. Inside and out.”

Danny nodded against him.

The quiet drew out between them, but it was more comfortable now, less weighted down by the things they said and did not say. Nate was a master at not saying things, after seven years at Bram’s side. Danny had learned the hard way, too, but he’d never learned to lie like Nate had. 

It was such a relief, Nate thought, not to live his entire life lying any longer.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said finally. “I want to, Nate. I want to so badly with you, but I just… I get so scared, I’m not in control, and, and… and I don’t know what to do, I panic.”

“I un, understand,” Nate said softly. Then he stilled, thinking. 

Danny noticed the sudden shift in his movements and pushed himself up slightly to look Nate in the eyes. “What?”

“Would…” Nate licked his lips, considering, letting his eyes linger over Danny’s face. “Would it help if y-y-you were in control?”

Danny tilted his head, and Nate could still see the cynical, sarcastic boy he’d once watched throw himself into mosh pits in a frenzy of anger he had to repress during his everyday life - he was still in there, living alongside the softer, nervous Danny that had come back out of the woods. It was all one person, the bits and pieces of his life wrapped around him to create a man. Danny couldn’t see it that way - Ryan and their awful parents didn’t seem to see it, either - but Nate did.

There had only ever been one Danny, made of a thousand beautiful, frustrating, irritating, infuriating, amazing little fragments glued together, pieces that survived every attempt to obliterate them, walked back out of the woods and started gluing themselves back together with gold.

Nate loved the fragments, and he loved the gold, too.

“Control? What… what do you, um, mean, Nate?”

Nate smiled, put a hand up to Danny’s face, felt him lean into the touch. “… Danny do you t-t-trust me?”

[friendlylocalwhumper]

The apartment is beautifully clean. Every mug in the cabinet is lined up with the handle angled to the left. Every stainless steel surface is kept polished, the countertops have nothing but a bowl of decorative fruit painted in cheery colors, the coffee table has been sanded and freshened up to erase old rings of coffee stains. Quinn lounges on the couch, comfortable but refusing to pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch to cover their chilly arms because it’s sitting so perfectly where they laid it.

Knuckles rap quietly against the front door. All wandering thoughts about how elephants are cute when they use their trunks to drink water are erased in an instant. Wary brown eyes flit to the door. They are shirtless, freckles and scars on display to the empty, cold room. The patio door is in their bedroom, and the nearest window will creak if they try to push it open quickly. There is a gun under the coffee table, and one in the cabinet above the sink, and a knife in the entryway drawer, but none of those will really do much good if Quinn doesn’t have enough time to strategize. They don’t even know who’s there.

Pajama pants brushing against the sofa cushion as they swing their legs to stand up, the spy shakes their head to get their curls out of their face. They showered this morning and took care to curl their hair like they were undressing a wound, cleaning it, and redressing it. Now they’re wondering if that was a mistake. It was certainly stupid to have changed into pajamas this early in the night, to have not even bothered to grab a shirt. What if this is someone who expects them to be playing the role they used in some random mission months or years ago? What if it’s someone here to kill them? Do they really want to die wearing plaid?

The soft knock comes again. It’s oddly respectful, like the sound of someone unnecessarily asking for permission before entering a mausoleum.

The handle is cool under their swollen hand. It always seems to be too warm and tender, the other not so swollen but far more stiff, and it just gives the most awful cracks and clicks when forced to move. Quinn doesn’t spare the attention to frown down at their ugly crooked fingers as they turn the doorknob and crack the door open.

Exhausted dark eyes. Aquiline nose, bushy eyebrows, collarbones standing out under the neckline of a white T-shirt.

He watches them calculating whether there’s any point in closing and locking the door. Oscar doesn’t speak yet. Quinn yanks their fingers back from where they’d curled around the edge of the door to peek; their hands go behind their back, and they keep the door in its position with the side of their foot pressed up against it instead.

“I need to come inside,” He says in his low, urgent but patient tone. He’s staring right into their soul. A sickly sweat beads at the back of their neck and sticks to their hair.

But the door swings open, and Quinn stands aside only to close it again once he’s in. They lean back against the door with their hands safely between their spine and the wood.

Oscar leans heavily on the kitchen counter as soon as he reaches it. He’s tracking blood across the floor, and more drips down his neck, flowing maybe from somewhere under his hair. He is wearing his uniform pants, but not the shirt that would make any fed stick out like a sore thumb. He looks like he was tossed out of a moving car and didn’t find a safe place to crash for days after that.

He turns to them, and they consider that he might expect them to rant at him, or stare at him impassively while they wait for an apology, or try to kill him. Something rational for the very clever, very dangerous Quinn Mae to do. All they can manage is to watch him, respectfully avoiding eye contact when he almost establishes it, too scared to bolt or to stand their ground.

“…Your place is different.”

They don’t look around. As clean as it seemed to them before the knock came, they recognize now how unacceptably filthy it is. The dust on the windowsill. The papers scattered across the desk - is there anything sensitive there? - no, it doesn’t matter, he knows everything. The throw blanket isn’t really at the perfect angle. They’ve let themself fall apart, they’re obviously not recovering very well. They haven’t even been doing missions, and Oscar will know that, of course, because he is an expert in Quinn Mae.

“Haven’t… haven’t kept up, I missed trash day and - no healers around to help when, when I can’t… you know.”

His eyes are on them again. Quinn endures the inferno of his judgment and breathes through the feeling that they’re going to faint. They’re fed, hydrated, rested, healthy. They don’t faint anymore.

“What?”

Glancing up, they finally meet his gaze only to find that it holds confusion and hesitance, not judgment. Although he is a remarkable actor when he wants to be.

“Um. My place.”

He blinks. “You think it’s bad? Messy?”

It must be a trick question. Their breaths come a little quicker. His eyes go to their chest, and they know that he can see their fear plain as day. “…Yes. Yes, it’s… clearly.”

They are consumed by his calculating eyes, and they do not quail under the gaze that they grew used to while working under him.

Oscar thinks about the time he watched Major nearly beat Quinn to death, and their pleas for Oscar to just leave, their swearing that it was their fault and they had it handled. He thinks about how many months it took to earn their trust, to manipulate them into feeling safe with him, and then how they thanked him for pushing until they told him their most painful secrets. He thinks about the last month and a half that he saw them at work, when they were taken from him because he wasn’t getting results from them anymore, and they were given to Davian. How Quinn rapidly deteriorated into a humiliated, doe-eyed bedwarmer, a source of entertainment.

The time when Davian dumped them on the floor of Oscar’s office and told them they were allowed to do one piece of paperwork for their old boss. How Quinn took the paper offered to them by Oscar with shaking hands, and focused so hard to getting every detail right because they were desperate for a chance to get to work again, to think critically, to be useful for their mind.

Once again, he scans the room and sees no big project. No pieces of taken-apart locks on the coffee table, no corkboard with plans and pictures and blueprints, no books lying open. It’s like someone dipped their hand into Quinn’s mind and scrambled it all up, hollowed it out, until they were nothing but tensely waiting for the next threat to loom over them.

Oscar is the one who did that. And Oscar is the threat now looming over them.

He’s never had a chance to… never wanted to feel it up until now. But the weathered and weary fed looks back at Quinn and sees what a deeply important, powerful person they were striving to be, and how far down he struck them. What he took from them. Their hands are at their sides now, unconsciously no longer being protected. They look small and uncertain, but still dependent upon the rules he established when he was breaking them. Oscar was in charge, he was aware of everything, and all they had to do was try their best to do excellent work for him. The air of the room is almost charged with expectation. They want him to tell them what he’s here for. Tell them what to do. What the latest threat is, what he’ll do to them if they don’t comply.

“Would you give me your hands if I told you to?” He asks, not sure whether he’ll be angry or relieved if they say no.

A second of hesitation is all that they’ve built up in their recovery. One second of clear apprehension before they hold out their hands to him, even stepping forward so they’re in easy reach.

Oscar runs his hand over his face, scratching at his scruffy chin. When it becomes clear with the increasingly awkward silence that he’s not going to break their fingers on a whim this time, a blush burns across their cheeks. Quinn pulls back and leans against the door again, arms somewhat folded, hands near their core.

“It looks like you were kicked out,” They croak. “Or you escaped.”

“Escaped?” He counters, feigning confusion. It’s more out of pride than anything, but they see the deceit alone.

“You were trapped too. I was slow to figure that out.” He hears in their tone that they loathe themself for being slow, and it’s absolutely not true, but it’s the painful truth to them. “Looks like you just barely got out, tried to survive by hiding out with warlocks, got kicked around. Now you’ve come to me because, ironically, you need my help.”

He doesn’t look impressed. He is, but any reaction that he gives will be read as an act. So he waits to hear what else they have to say.

“It looks like that’s what happened. It makes sense that that would be how it went. But I’m not going to believe it.”

There it is. He knew they’d be wary. Of course they would, he betrayed them. He’s a well-trained liar.

Their heel bumps against the wall as they back up just a fraction more. They look like they want to escape, but they’re the one holding the door shut. They’re the one trapping him in here right now. He wonders if they want him here, if they need it somehow.

“It’s not very original to come back playing the victim,” They add. “Why would I believe you? Why would I help you? After everything?”

They might have meant it as an accusation. It doesn’t sound like one. It sounds like they’re questioning themself more than him. Oscar wishes that he could hold them and let them cry it out, or let them reel from whatever numbness they might have been using as a shield since they got out.

“I just need to be here.” He doesn’t advance, but Quinn’s breaths get shallower like he’s closing in on them. “It’s a last resort. I’m not asking you to do anything, go anywhere. Just let me rest here.”

The apartment smells like them. He wants to collapse onto their bed and breathe into their pillows and pretend none of this ever happened, that he never did anything past befriending them and sleeping in their bed.

It does seem to strike them as odd that he’s not making them leave, or ushering more feds in here to haul them back to the facility. “I’m not… I’m not going to fall for it again. Fall for you again. You’re really here to try the long game again? Do they really think so little of me, that I’m that stupid?”

He feels like he’s sinking toward the floor. Oscar sighs. “You can use your magic to see if I’m being honest. I don’t care. Where can I crash?”

Their stiff, pink-tinted sore hands curl slightly around their sides in a self-soothing hug. “…I won’t get on the bed.”

That twists unexpected guilt in his gut. The exiled fed nods slowly. “Do you want me to take it?”

Quinn has no idea what to do with any of this. They shake their head, opening their mouth then seeming to think better of whatever came to mind. “Um. Yes. Sure. Are you hurt? I mean… you won’t die in there, will you?”

He must look even worse than he feels. Oscar shrugs. “If it hasn’t happened yet, it won’t tonight.”

[evermetnotforgotten]

In the future, post captivity.

Content warnings: negative self-talk, referenced physical self-harm and alcohol use, references to past torture and noncon, v brief mention of emesis and drugging.

His fingers don't work like they used to. They're shaky and frail, and Niels can't hold down the strings long enough to play an E chord, let alone anything substantial. When he plucks at the guitar it recoils from his chemical-hardened fingers, as if to say don't touch me,and it aches.

It used to be so easy. He'd shred his way up and down whatever sparked for hours, acoustic or electric, just riding the high of note after note after note. Now it's little more than Mester Jakob while his mind substitutes the lyrics:

Little Niels, little Niels

Who are you? Who are you?

You are just a failure, coward and a liar

Bim bam bum, bim bam bum.

Still, Niels tries, and though the positioning of his arms is strenuous after mere minutes, he stubbornly slouches back into the couch to try to gain more support. It only serves to make him cramped and twisted. Frustrated he groans, shaking his left hand out to banish the pins and needles already starting to bloom there.

"Hard to be Jimi with a broken body and a dumb brain, huh…" He mutters to the four wooden elephants on the mantelpiece in Danglish. "Should have gotten him to zap me into finally learning modes."

Niels straightens, and tries again. Flubs the first transition.

Tries again. The notes are buzzing and clumsy.

And tries again. And again. And again.

It's only when Niels hears the car pulling into the driveway that he remembers he's supposed to have put dinner on half an hour ago. He swears under his breath, sets the guitar on its stand, and reaches just past the couch for his walking frame. He just manages to put the rice in the cooker before he hears the sound of the front door unlocking.

Fareeha calls from the hallway, amongst the bustling sounds of cotton shopping bags. "Hi—Esther, here, here—are you awake? Niels?"

"I'm awake, need a hand?"

"Yes, sorry—we just have a couple more bags to bring in."

After they finish dinner and while the girls study, Niels listens to Fareeha's day. She massages his sore shoulders, talking about the coffee with her mum, the business doing well, actually, the collies they saw at the park that reminded her of the one she had growing up.

Niels listens, and listens well. It's the least he can do, when he can't participate.

-

Weeks come and go, but he finds himself drawn back to the strings again. Somehow it's worse than last time, his perpetually aching back protesting just from sitting upright.

He shouldn't have even tried today, because he's been short of breath since yesterday, and hasn't really slept for forty-eight hours. But sometimes, between night-terrors, between the stretches in which Niels feels like he just might die at any moment, he wants to feel alive. For once.

Niels pauses the world's worst rendition of Nothing Else Matters to answer the message lighting up his phone. Graham.

hey. you free?

Literally always, Niels messages back. What's up?

levs started drinking again

Niels glances at the empty bottles of Asahi lining his desk, before he taps back. Shit. Really?

yeah. something happened. and i think were in trouble

He taps back, letting autocomplete take over where his fingers fail. That's vague. Details.

While the little "..." cycles on the screen, Niels puts the phone in the knitted pocket on the walker, and shuffles down to the kitchen. Fareeha and Esther are away for the weekend, and Clara is half-watching a movie in the living room. Niels offers a cup, smiles at her absent ja, and sets out two large mugs.

It's been good, just the two of them. While he can't keep up with his daughter's constant buzz of energy like he used to be able to, he can at least watch and encourage Clara through her karate training exercises.

Niels settles on the little beige container of liquorice tea that never fails to remind him of the Aussies. Makes that, and a mint hot chocolate. When he sits down on the couch next to Clara, the new green bubble from Graham is already nestled there, filling the bottom of the screen. There's a nervous spill in the words, a hand that it had taken years for the man to feel even remotely close to showing. Even though they'd met each other at their respective worsts.

i dont know how much I can tell you. he hasnt gotten out of bed for a couple of weeks. had to get rid of the bottles we had lieing around

And then: its bad. i dont know what to do

Niels frowns in concern. Has he been going to work?

The ellipses cycle for a long while, long enough for Clara to take notice that Niels has joined her. He gestures to the characters on the screen. "What's this one?"

"Moana, dad. You've seen it…"

Niels hums. "No, I would have remembered it…"

A ping.

he punched his manager and got fired so no

Niels can almost hear Fareeha's shocked oh nej, Lev,as if she'd been right there reading over his shoulder. Can almost see Graham's jaw, clenched as it would have been as he'd typed out the words.

Well that's one way to resign.

no kidding

im worried hes going to hurt himself

i think he already has

The stress must show on Niels' face, because Clara turns the volume down and huddles a little closer to him with a soft 'okay?'

He nods, and though he raises the phone out of her reading view, he puts his other arm over her shoulder. Holds her close.

We are here. How can we help?

-

Niels stares at the opposite wall, guitar laying flat on his lap, fingers curled loosely around the neck. It's late, but he hasn't moved to turn on the light. Can't be bothered to get the walker, or call for someone to help him. His phone sits discarded beside him, still shining its message into the dimming evening sun.

He runs the pad of his thumb over the bottom strings. E, A, D, and a soft scratching noise left in the wake of each touch.

Niels flinches when the metallic sound of it slams a memory forward—the collar, primed and whining and ready to send pain through every inch of him, the twisting feeling that he'd done something wrong, wrong, wrong—he curls his hand over the neck quickly to silence it. Feels the tightness in his chest, his throat. Curls forward with a shaky sigh.

He knows that none of them had long, really. The things they'd been through, the things they had done, could only shave years off the lifespan. And though it was always a toss-up whether they exploded or imploded, they were never going to get back the full allotment of time on this earth they had been promised. In among the myriad other things that will never be as they were, that fact is just another drop in a vast and endless sea. As is this.

Half spitefully, half uncaringly, Niels lets the guitar fall. It hits the floor with an reverberating twang, and a thud.

The bedroom door opens, and as the harsh hallway light floods inward, Niels turns his head away. The bed dips beside him as Fareeha climbs closer, creaks slightly as she leans forward to pull the guitar up, drag it safely back onto the bed.

Then, a kiss is pressed to the back of his shoulder, over the shirt. Another, and another. Slow movements, to give time to pull away.

"Dessert?" Fareeha asks. "Fruit and yoghurt."

Letting out a breath, Niels turns his hand upward for his wife to take in her own. The sight of her ring, plain gold on slender fingers, is enough to cut through the thousand voices in his mind. To bring him here, to the present, though half-steeped in the past as it always is. As it always will be.

"I should have stayed," Niels murmurs, shaking his head. "When Laura got us the gig. I should have stayed, Fifi. And then. None of this…"

He feels Fareeha tune in, hold him a little tighter. The familiar scent of her peach shampoo envelops him with the squeeze of her hand.

"I wanted you to stay," she says, voice cracking. "But I wanted you to go, too, so you could live your dream."

"Some dream it was," Niels laughs bitterly.

"You should have seen your face when she called you." Fareeha moves forward, her eyes huge and soft in the darkness. "You were so excited. I love seeing you like that."

It's been four years since he went to Australia, chasing a dream. But the dreamer is a completely different person, to the one he is today.

"I helped him kidnap them."

He watches Fareeha's eyes flicker as she catches up with the sudden information. Struggles with the nausea threatening to overtake, disgust at himself he'd thought was dormant since they'd gotten free, rearing its head and roaring once more. Pushes through.

"Sold them down the river for a piece of steak and a bed to sleep on. I… gave Graham the drugs to keep him sedated. After I helped put them both in his car. I tied Graham to the pole in that fucking death building. I made up the room that Lev was… that he was… because I thought I could still have the chance to see you again. He said that once he had what he wanted, he would think about letting me go."

The confession numbs him, but it's so laughably past too late for it to matter. The phone on the bed pulses once for attention, message still unopened despite having already been read in preview. Fareeha is a statue, long dark hair framing her face in gentle waves.

Niels closes his eyes as she takes his face in her hands. He wants to, needs to utter the last of it, but the love in her stare is intense and unbearable.

"I heard the guy rape him… that very first night. I made the bed in that room… and I still ate the steak."

It's a weightless thing, the quiet horror left behind in the wake of his words. Like so many universal truths knocked loose, scattered. If he keeps his eyes shut, Niels hopes he will never have to see the way he's let her down. Let them all down.

"You had so much done to you. All of you. But Niels… he was a monster. And you are only a man."

Niels doesn't know what to do, how to react, save from give his phone to Fareeha for her to read. She tilts her head, hair rushing forward to brush his arm as she reads Graham's text.

Four words, but there's a hopelessness in them that Niels feels down every grate and crack of his bones.

they are pressing charges

"Oh nej," Fareeha breathes. "Oh… oh, nej."

The next day, Niels puts the Yamaha in its case. Slides the case under the bed.

[whumpqin]

💋 +👣+👀 ??

Sure thing!

From these sets of prompts (Still open, feel free to drop an ask!)

CW: dubcon/noncon kissing, touching, and implied sex, fade to black noncon, drugging, conditioning, brainwashing, brief manhandling, creepy/intimate whumper, nonhuman whumpee, referenced past escape attempt, referenced past eye whump (blink and you’ll miss it), biting, abusive language (if there’s something that I missed please let me know!)

Today has been a good day.

He’d been allowed to relax and be comfortable - a rare treat when around his Masters. Elisha was even able to take intermittent naps here and there to regain some of his strength after testing the sharpness of Aridai’s knives. He’d also been allowed to cook some of his favorite soup, and though he was afraid that he had made too much - Aridai was out for the night, and he was always used to cooking for two, not one - but Jeremiah had, instead of punishing him for making food, sat him down on the floor and given him his own bowl to eat and cup to drink from An actual meal.

They had eaten dinner in relative silence, and Elisha felt light-headed with giddiness. He felt good, and his Masters had been so kind to him today. Jeremiah even washed the dishes himself instead of letting Elisha do it.

The soup had warmed him up even while on the cold hardwood floors. Even more so as he watched Jeremiah clean dishes with a focused eye. It was hard to tell the cause, but Elisha deemed the feeling a rather nice and good airy, allowing him to breathe for the first time in weeks.

When Jeremiah was done washing up he turned off the water faucet and dried his hands. As he did so he looked over Elisha’s way, and the smile that worked itself onto his face was unmistakable. Elisha couldn’t help but mirror it, tail lifting and curling contentedly.

“Look at you, being so good and still for me,” he crooned. He stepped over and tilted Elisha’s head up with a couple fingers, brushing the side of his cheek with a thumb. Elisha relaxed into the soft touch, so much nicer than it had seemed before. “Come here, Caleb. Let’s get you up.” Fingers hooked into his collar to pull him upwards.

It took a moment due to his limbs not wanting to listen quite right, but Elisha was up on his feet in no time.

“There’s a good boy,” Jeremiah praised.

He drifted his hands across Elisha’s torso, igniting little sparks that blossomed out and forced a pleased hum from him. The praise and the touch were addicting to hear, and in the moment he’d do just about anything to get more of it. Jeremiah continued drifting his hands here and there, caressing his cheek and reaching up to grab one of Elisha’s horns.

“Bend down just a bit,” he ordered, pulling his head down.

Obedient as ever, Elisha did as he was told and hunched his shoulders to be eye level with Jeremiah. Fingers wound underneath his chin to hold his head still, mere inches from his Sir’s own face. He parted his mouth slightly, breathing in the scent of the fields off of Jeremiah and breathing another warm sigh in response.

It didn’t take long before Jeremiah pulled his head forward and kissed him.

The feeling, though somehow entirely expected in a way Elisha couldn’t recall, stuttered his thoughts and made him freeze, the warmth against his lips and the hand that began to run down his side intoxicating. As he pulled away a brief fraction Elisha let out a pleased gasp, struggling to get air before he pushed forward to return the sensation. He reached his hands up to cup Jeremiah’s face, holding him gently as he gave him his own breathy kisses. They were a bit sloppy and unpracticed, but Elisha didn’t particularly care. All he could care about was him and his Sir and how close they should have been.

A hand slid up to his neck, hooking Elisha’s collar and feeling the loops in it. He tilted his head to allow the touch further, but instead of caressing Jeremiah merely went over the loops one by one until he brushed over the leash that kept him tied to the sink. Elisha’s brows furrowed as he felt his collar shift and the padlock brought to his front, breaking from the kiss to look down.

“Thought I’d give you some room to move,” Jeremiah said, easily reading the hazy confusion in Elisha’s expression. He pulled a key from his pocket. “You’re a little tall to do this on the counter. But you’ll keep being a good boy for me, won’t you Caleb?”

“Um, yes, Sir. I’ll… I’ll be, um…” He couldn’t stop himself from brushing their lips together, trying to chase the closeness of the first kiss. “I’ll be good.”

Jeremiah hummed, pleased by the affirmation as he unlocked the leash and unhooked it from Elisha’s collar. It clattered to the floor and suddenly they returned to their closeness as his Sir brushed their lips together in a soft kiss. He wasn’t allowed a moment to even breathe before Jeremiah trailed down his jaw, tilting Elisha’s head so he could kiss where he liked.

His eyes caught on the door to the outside, recalling the memory of how it used to look. The golden wheat against his sk, the smell of fresh air. The sensation of being free mixing with pleasure as hands and lips against his skin, eliciting a low moan from Elisha’s throat.

Then suddenly the flash of silver as it hovered over his fluttering eyes, shining with different colors as Elisha gasped, teeth biting into his shoulder and sending a shock through his system that made him suddenly tense. He whimpered as Jeremiah tugged them closer still, pain rippling out in a strange, warbling sensation. That he didn’t like.

“Ah, Sir-” he breathed, voice pitched high and terse with sudden stress. The excitement in his belly wilted into something more hideous, like a box of butterflies were released all at once. And yet he felt strangely good, happiness coiling with the panic and becoming something so foreign.

What was he doing?

“Sir, Sir th-there’s, there’s ss-some-something wr-wrong,” Elisha whined, pushing against Jeremiah in momentary panic, his voice breaking as if he was about to cry. Was he? He couldn’t tell. All of his senses were suddenly so overwhelmed he wasn’t sure which way was up. “Sir ‘mnot, I-I-I don’t, I don’t know wh-what’s- wh-why do I, Sir it’s-”

Jeremiah cut him off by raising his head and whispering in his ear, “Shhh, I don’t remember giving you permission to speak, Caleb. It feels good, doesn’t it?” He gently kissed against Elisha’s cheek. He shuddered at the feeling, pleasure and panic now equal in their intensity. “Come over by the table with me.”

He shook his head with a whine. “No, no Sir, no I-I-I don’t w-want-” A hand seized his wrist while the one against his horn tightened painfully.

“I wasn’t asking, Caleb. Get on the fucking table,” Jeremiah hissed, anger sinking deep into his voice and bringing tears to Elisha’s eyes on command.

He did what he was told, afraid of what would happen if he didn’t. Jeremiah, now at Elisha’s back, pushed him against the kitchen table and down against it. Elisha's body sprawled and squirmed, the hazy feeling still wrapped around his limbs as they refused to completely listen. It worked as if by its own, lifting into Jeremiah’s touch as he rubbed against its back. Elisha whined low in his throat as those same hands went downwards and gripped onto his hips.

“Hush, you’re quite alright,” Jeremiah soothed. “Just feel it. Stay still and let the drug do its work, pet.”

An involuntary hum left his throat as lips pressed against his back. In the same motion fingers hooked into his pants and slowly pulled them downwards, careful to take his tail out and set it free as he forced Elisha to feel every touch. He heard the sound of a belt being unbuckled behind him, and tensed as Jeremiah leaned over him with a content sigh. Anticipation and fear whirled in his stomach as his Sir pressed another kiss on his back, higher this time.

“Besides, you’ve got to earn all that food you ate earlier, don’t you Caleb?”

Taglist (it’s long enough to warrant it trust me):  @faewhump @galaxywhump @burtlederp @whumpasaurus101 @simplygrimly (if you want to be tagged just message me)

[aftgficrec]

I would loveee fics where Andrew defends Neil to aaron and the other foxes (but definitely Aaron), i’ve seen so many of Neil defending Andrew but not a lot of the other way around and Neil deserves to have his man defend his honorrr

In canon, post-medication Andrew does not talk much to anyone besides Neil. Still there are definitely fics with this. Just know Andrew’s defense of Neil can be one sentence in a story, and physical violence is often his preferred method of communication. -A

previous recs  

‘The Ash is in Our Clothes’ here

‘Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder’ here

‘in the common tongue’ here 

‘I hate him,’ ‘One day we'll reveal the truth,’ ‘i'm getting static from my better sense’ and ‘My brother under the sun’ here

‘some1 saying something…’ here

‘Ember’ here

‘Can he play?’ here

‘Surreal But Nice’ here

‘Least Favorite Only Child’ here

‘Fighting Words’ here

‘Trust Fall (And Welcoming Arms)’ here

‘(Don't) Stand So Close’ here

‘In the Eye of the Beholder’ here

‘Beach Bois’ here

‘I'm Not Okay (I Promise).’ and ‘It’s not living (If it’s not with you)’ here

‘soft spots make easy targets’ here

‘Even the Darkest Night Will End’ and ‘The Andreil escapades’ here

in Masterlist for Nicky Kissing Neil: ‘The Kiss,’ ‘History Repeating,’ ‘Andrew Finds Out,’ ‘Something, Nothing & Everything’ (also big twinyards confrontation), ‘A Crack in the Mask,’ ‘Truth Time, ‘Truths Come Out,’ ‘The Unkindness of Ravens’ ch 16, ‘Delayed Reaction,’ ‘Delayed reaction (the fear of falling remix),’ ‘All For The Game Musings,’ ‘andrew finds out about what happened…,’ ‘Hold Each Other’ ch 6 and ch 15, and ‘Slip’. Finally, ‘Lessons in Cartography’ has Andrew defending Neil to both Aaron and Jack throughout

Andrew defends Neil to non-foxes

‘Something About The Sunshine’ here

‘Warmth’ here

Foxhole Tidbits ‘Ch. 22: Silent, but Snarky’ here

‘Through A Glass Darkly’ and ‘Some Things You Just Can't Bury’ here

‘Martyr’ here

‘The Bones of You’ here

‘monsters at night’ here

‘Killer Bunny’ here 

‘you're not next before forever’ here (completed)

‘looking for you’ here

‘Give Me Another Minute (to Lay Here in Your Echo)’ here 

‘Ficlet Collection…’ ch 35-37 here

you may also like

feral protective Andrew here

protective/possessive Andrew here

overprotective Andrew here 

protective Andrew here

protective Andrew gets hurt here

protective Neil/Andrew here

jealous Andrew here

previous recs where Andrew kills Nathan here

our latest Neil & Aaron ask here

Unconventional Therapy by JostenlovesMinyard [Rated M, Twinyards Appreciation Week 2021]

Twinyard Appreciation Week - Day 2 | “bottle episode” Andrew and Aaron attend their weekly therapy session but things don’t quite go to plan when the door handle falls off and they’re stuck in there together.

tw: implied/referenced rape/nocon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Written On His Skin by hismiley16 [Not Rated, 11344 Words, Complete, 2023]

Part 4 of Nothing is Safe Series

The Foxes face the Ravens for the first time since Riko's death and things go as well as expected. Andrew is mildly injured on the court and isn't there to protect Neil when the new Evermore captain comes for him after the game. The team sees more than Neil ever wanted them to, including the ghost of Nathaniel he thought he'd buried in Baltimore.

tw: vomit, tw: bullying, tw: nonconsensual touch/assault  tw: dissociation, tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced animal death, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

this is me trying by crownowl [Not Rated, 2142 Words, Complete, 2023]

After Neil has a panic attack Andrew finds out exactly what happened when Nicky drugged Neil and he is not happy.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual kissing, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual drug use, tw: ptsd

Don't let me be by Cutie_Wan [Not Rated, 1983 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil suffers a major dissociation episode in front of the Foxes.

tw: dissociation, tw: violence

One Step Forward by thecompletebookworm [Rated T, 1665 Words, Complete, AFTG Exchange Winter 2020]

Based on the prompt: “Andrew and Aaron talking and solving their problems” "If you really don't care about Andrew, why does Neil bother you so much?"   Dobson asked during their Wednesday session. Aaron dug his fingers into the couch.  He hated this.  Hated that the only time he could get answers out of Andrew was when he was sitting in front of a shrink.   A shrink who was undoubtedly on his brother's side. And that in order to get answers he had to rip himself raw first.  

tw: implied/referenced rape/nocon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Angry Alone by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1799 Words, Complete, 2023]

“Of course I’m not homophobic, you asshole. What are you even talking about?” “Aaron, please don’t use that type of language here,” Betsy softly interjects. “You’ve been very hostile towards Neil,” Andrew says plainly, as if that’s enough of an answer. ______________________________ Aaron has been feeling angry and alone lately. Maybe he doesn't have to be alone about it.

Everything's Alright by DarkD [Rated E, 182901 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2023]

Souls weren't meant to be left alone, so they split, always looking for their other half. No matter how long it took, the moment a soul existed, it sought the one that would complete it. The main indication is, when one of the halves of the soul turns seven years old, an identical mark appears on both parts. Along with that comes a set of unique abilities that soulmates can only use with each other—for protection, for finding each other. Soulmates would never be alone.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: child abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: gun violence, tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: murder, tw: canonical character death

A flash of anger. prompt fill by @nickyhenmick [Tumblr, 2016]

All reporters got on Andrew’s nerves. They were invasive and never asked interesting questions, and there was probably a reason he was rarely allowed to be on press duty.

a stupid ass decision prompt fill by @find-yourself-in-passion [Tumblr, 2017]

“I recognize that you have reached a decision,” Andrew replied over the top of Neil’s protests, unwrapping his right hand in such a rush that Neil knew he was going to have red marks where the tap ripped at his flesh. “Andrew-” “But given that it is a stupid ass decision,” He continued on, refusing to acknowledge the other man’s piercing gaze on him as he threw his bag and shoes in the closet, knowing what faced him when he turned around. “I have elected to ignore it.”

Art

3 & 10 art by @thematicallycoherent

im thinkin bout these two art by @wiltkingart

Safe. art by @eislekaj on instagram

exy banquet smoke break art by @twohiddenhalves

Vkook as reference art by @reyko__ on instagram

roof. andrew. tattoos. and two cigarettes. and neil. art by @puhnatsson

Someone strong to lean on art by @fornavn

[hold-him-down]

Derek’s Back: Part 3

part one part two

TW: mostly emotional whump/angst, implied prisoner abuse, implied past noncon, implied past whipping, referenced med whump/medication, PTSD, poorly researched international affairs/law

✥ ✥ ✥

Jack stared, expressionless and hard, at the bathroom door. Derek had been in the shower for– he checked his watch nervously– a long time, and Jack had become increasingly anxious with every passing minute. While he understood that giving Derek space, and more specifically, time alone to decompress, would be a pivotal part of keeping the peace, it made his stomach knot itself up.

Derek had casually disregarded a mostly joking offer for company with a half-hearted smile and an anxious hand to the back of his neck. In response, Jack smiled, nodding in agreement and mumbling something about it being a good call. 

He spent the first several minutes pacing just outside the bathroom, his fingers fidgeting relentlessly, knuckles hovering inches away from the door then dropping, over and over. After twenty, with no sounds coming from the bathroom but the steady stream of water (no singing, no sobbing, no indicators of life at all), Jack did knock. Just to make sure that Derek was upright, and that he was okay. 

The water shut off moments later, but Derek didn’t emerge. Jack allowed his imagination to run rampant, and just as he lifted his hand to knock again, the door swung open.

Immediately, Jack’s eyes were drawn to Derek’s face, the heartbreaking realization that it was peppered with splotches and the only viable culprit of them hitting him harder than he expected. Derek’s eyes were rimmed in a dull red, eyelids heavy. He clutched the towel tightly around his waist as he took an automatic step backward at their unexpected proximity.

“Sorry,” Derek said, eyes falling to the floor. “I didn’t realize you were still here. I thought you’d… I thought you would have gone…”

“No,” Jack replied. He probably should have gone, but Derek couldn’t have actually believed that. He cleared his throat. “Let me get you some clothes,” he said, keeping his gaze carefully trained on anything other than Derek’s body.

He turned, pinching his eyes shut for a moment, delivering himself a swift berating for overstepping boundaries. Derek needed time alone to process things, Jack told himself, a mantra on repeat, as he quickly crossed the room to the pile of clothing folded on the chair. He should leave.

“How was the shower?” he asked instead. He pinched his eyes shut, swallowing back the words that were threatening to spill. “I mean, I assume you had showers in… yeah. Obviously. I’m sure it was just another shower.” He cleared his throat. “I– I hope it was a good shower.”

Jack stood and turned to Derek, who was still pressed anxiously in the door frame, clutching the towel. “Here, bu–” His mouth snapped shut for a moment, then he crossed the room with a tight smile. “I think the embassy guy dropped these off. I didn’t… catch his name. They’re clean.”  

Derek reached a tentative hand out and took the clothing, pulling it tight to his chest. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, taking a hesitant step out of the bathroom. He moved to the corner of the bedroom and before Jack could offer him privacy, he turned, facing the wall. 

And, as resolved as Jack was to not look at Derek when he wasn’t invited to, he couldn’t miss it. “Derek–” His name whooshed out of him before he could pull it back. Jack’s lungs deflated, struggled to pull in air, and he tried, he fucking tried, to take a step backward. But his feet wouldn’t quite work.

Scars ran the length of Derek’s back. Thick, jagged lines the criss-crossed and overlapped and some were old and some were newer and– And Derek’s body was tense. More tense than normal, or, whatever this new normal was. Jack could see it in the way Derek froze, clutching the towel in one hand, the clothes in the other, and staring into the wall. He knew. He knew what Jack was seeing and what Jack was thinking and he was frozen, right there with him. 

He was painfully aware, in that moment, how monumentally stupid he had been. For staying in here, for cornering Derek, for thinking anything other than what had obviously happened happened. 

Jack swallowed, forcing his eyes to the floor. He counted his breaths, and when his vision stopped spotting, he spoke automatically.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hearing his own voice distantly and distorted. He kept his eyes on one little spot, where something heavy must have dug into the hardwood leaving a shallow divot, which might have been the only thing keeping him upright at that moment. “I shouldn’t have–”

He shouldn’t have done a lot of things. The line of Derek’s jaw tightened. And Jack, for all his good intentions, made another mistake, and took another step closer, letting the tips of his fingers connect with Derek’s shoulder. 

In an instant, all the tension in Derek’s body returned. Derek jerked away, pressing himself closer to the wall. His hands shook as he dropped the clothing, fumbling over his grip on the towel.

“Don’t–” Derek squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don’t touch me.” He spoke through a tightly clenched jaw. “Let me… please, just let me get dressed, and then– Just– I’m… I’m sorry.” His tone was sharp, but his volume low, as he stuttered over his words.

Jack nodded, voice caught in his throat. Derek couldn’t see that, though. Derek couldn’t see that, and Jack was so goddam uncertain that all he could do was pull his hand back, keeping it up and in plain view; a show of vulnerability or trustworthiness or just generally attempting to radiate ‘i-come-in-peace’ vibes. It was all wrong though, very wrong. Derek stood stone still, his eyes shut tight and his face ghostly white as he battled some clear-as-day internal war. 

Jack watched, frozen, until Derek finally spoke. “If you want to… if you want to fuck me, you can. Just, please don’t… please don’t hurt me.” He swallowed, his eyes opening slowly but remaining trained on the wall, which was just inches from his face. “Please,” he said, softer.

Jack couldn’t, right then, find the words to express the emotion that was bubbling just under the surface. It was horror. It was a tsunami of image after image after image after image; every worst nightmare he had had, crashing into reality. It was guilt. It was the thought that had plagued him off and on and off and on and on and on and on; the one that kept him up at night but that he tried desperately to keep in check. It should have been him. 

He took a step back, and then a few more, just to be sure. He knew he needed to say something, that every moment spent in silence and uncertainty was a moment that Derek thought he was going to hurt him, but his stomach was turning over and over. 

He swallowed. “I’m sorry,” Jack said quietly. “Tell me what you need from me.” Derek didn’t respond. His free hand, flat against the wall, fisted, and his forehead came to rest just next to it. Jack watched his back as it rose and fell too quickly. There was so much he didn’t know. Derek fought to bring himself back, and all Jack could do was watch it happen.

From his angle, Jack could only see half of his face, but it was enough to see the silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I won’t touch you,” he said softly, “I’m not going to touch you.”

Something shifted inside of Derek then, and he lowered himself to the floor, still clutching that goddamn towel for all it was worth. Jack mirrored him, his hands shadowing the scarred flesh of Derek’s shoulders, but careful to keep his promise. 

Eventually, Jack spoke. “Tell me what you need,” he said evenly. 

Derek nodded. 

“Do you need me to… go? To call someone?”

“No,” Derek said, swallowing. “No. I’m okay.”

“Okay.” It was a whisper, and it was full of the unspoken acknowledgement that Derek was not okay. But neither of them knew where to go from there.

Derek looked down at his hands, and then around the room, his eyes landing briefly on the door, before he cast them back to the floor.

“I don’t think I can leave you like this,” Jack said, moving back a little bit. “I don’t think I can… I can’t leave you like this, Derek.”

Derek nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Derek eventually replied. Jack expected nothing less. “It’s been… it’s been a tough couple years.” 

Jack choked out a laugh, feeling his own tears prick at his eyes. He moved back further as Derek squirmed into his shorts, then his shirt, and let his head fall back against the wall. 

“I don’t think I need to say this,” Jack said, “but I’m going to anyway. You know you can talk to me. Whenever you’re ready, right?”

Derek nodded. Again. He curled in on himself, letting his weight fall into the darkest crevice of the room, letting his eyes fall shut. 

“At least– Can you at least get to bed? Can I help you?” he asked, standing. He put his hand out for Derek, unsure if he would even accept the peace offering. But he did, placing his hand into Jack’s and gingerly rising. 

Jack helped him to the mattress, and then helped him cover up. “Do you want some water? Or, uh, booze? Anything?”

“Water,” Derek responded, his eyes already closed as his body balled up tightly.

Jack nodded, retreating to the bathroom. He paused at the sink, splashing water onto his face, regarding his own reflection. A younger man stared back at him, one who still had faith in humanity. One who hadn’t seen what he had seen and who didn’t know what he knew. One who was optimistic about life, about love, about his faith and the world. One who still had dreams of changing it. He shook off the image, his eye catching on an array of pill bottles.

Jesus Christ.

He fumbled over a few of them one by one, unable to make out their purpose. He doubted Derek even knew. He counted seven all together, and placed the one he held onto the tray. 

The bed was empty by the time he made it back. After a quick scan of the room, he found Derek, curled up by the window, something akin to a cat basking in the sun, his body sprawled on the floor and centered where the light hit the brightest. But he was asleep, Jack was pretty sure. 

He left the water on the bedside table and took the blanket from the bed, draping it over the frail, tense body of his best friend. He resisted any urges to touch his cheek, or his forehead, or his hand. But he allowed himself the gratuity of watching Derek sleep, if just for a few minutes. 

He closed the door as quietly as he could on the way out.

✥ ✥ ✥

The rest of the day was something of a blur. Jack was careful to give Derek distance, and so, it seemed, was everyone else. Embassy workers were in and out, but they kept away from the bedroom, as well. 

Derek’s parents remained at arms-length. Breakfast had rattled everyone, and the thing in the bedroom™ had only added to the tension. His mom asked Jack, every hour or so, if he thought Derek might want food or clothing or books or electronics or anything else, but what they weren't understanding was that Jack felt just as lost as they were. 

Eventually, their attempts at conversation dwindled and the silence became the norm. 

As the sun set on another day in Adana, and the three sat quietly watching it, Jack was certain that everyone’s minds were on Derek. Derek hadn’t come out of the bedroom, and Jack hadn’t pressed. He was more shaken by what had happened than he was letting on, and the thought of being responsible for something like that happening to Derek again... he was okay with taking some space for a bit.

He could feel Derek’s parents’ eyes on him, trying not to be too obvious about watching him, but the question was there. 

When he felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, he stood. “I’m going to head to bed,” he said, not sure what the expected protocol was in situations like these. Mrs. Lewis smiled and nodded.

“You’ll let me know, right? If anything changes?”

“Of course,” she replied. She walked him to the door. “Jack?” she said, as he stepped into the hallway. “Thank you. I… I don’t think this is easy on you. On anyone. Take care of yourself, too, okay?”

Jack smiled, sleepily nodding. “You, too.”

He crossed the hall to his own room quietly and passed out on the couch nearly the moment he laid down. 

✥ ✥ ✥

Jack wasn’t sure how much time had passed before a knock startled him awake. And in spite of himself, his exhaustion, his emotions and his nightmares and his generally fucking fragile mental state, he smiled as he blinked himself awake. Because he knew, or at least he thought he knew, who was on the other side of the door.

He didn’t say anything as he opened it, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face. With all that had changed, so much was still the same, too. He moved aside for Derek to enter.

“Can I?” he asked, remembering his earlier promise, as he cautiously moved closer, lifting his hand slowly. Derek nodded, his own exhaustion written in every line of his face, even lit only by moonlight. Jack brushed the side of Derek’s neck with his fingertips and then added a little pressure, pulling him in tight, winding his fingers into Derek’s hairline, crushing his body to his. 

And Derek didn’t resist. 

Jack’s hand moved to Derek’s when they broke the hug, and he held onto him as they walked to the bed, as Derek lowered himself onto the mattress with a grimace and as Jack followed suit; they laid side by side on top of the blankets, their hands still touching but their bodies a safe distance. Jack accepted it at face value, so purely worn down by the last forty-eight hours that he would take anything he could get. 

It was Derek, though, that silently gripped his hand a little tighter, rolling to his side and pulling Jack over with him.

Jack recognized the move; it was how they had slept nearly every night, ignoring the heat and the sweat and the threat of getting caught.

The world was a better place today, as Derek curled into his arms. In spite of everything, this feeling– the one of Derek’s body, all boney and trembling and too warm and too fragile, pressed against his. Maybe things could still turn out okay.

It was a hope he hadn’t felt in years, and for the first time in a long time, Jack felt alive. 

tag list: @redwingedwhump, @whump-cravings, @crystalquartzwhump, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @nami-writes, @peachy-panic, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @whumpsday, @whump-blog, @bite-down-on-this

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

LGBTQIA+ Raph fics

Based on an Ao3 request; limited to pre-2k18 fics as per specification. You can also find this list and others here. 

The Chronicles of Karai Getting Her Shit Together by Crowdog @50-shades-of-cloaca - 2012 AU centered around Leorai, but also include Ace!Raph (tw violence, past csa, trauma, underage/rape-noncon, internalized ableism, self-harm, suicide attempt, nonconsensual drug use, torture)

Your Heart's Desire by Werepirechick - Rasey AU about groceries, holy water spray bottles, and the dangerous of summoning while drunk (tw violence)

De Novo by hummerhouse @hummerhouse - Slash finds Raph at Northampton and sets about turning his world upside down (tw explicit, past violence)

Call Me What I Am by Kyn - A "surprisingly unsexy" intersex!Raph story where a stomach bug takes on strange new dimensions, and the fallout sends the family reeling (tw gender identity issues, underage rape/noncon, trauma, violence)

vulnerable by coffeeandcream - Raph doesn't know how to deal when Casey is gentle (tw insecurity, sexual content, intimacy issues)

A Collection of Raph & Casey Shit by coffeeandcream - Fluffy little stories about the street punk and the mutant turtle (tw explicit)

Kiss by melismatic - Casey and Raph debate the meaning of a first kiss

resolution by taizi @taizi - Raph welcomes in the New Year with Casey

well suited by taizi @taizi - Casey and Raph make a try at normalcy

Panda Wolves by Crowdog @50-shades-of-cloaca - Strange dreams force the Hamato to take a dark trip down memory lane; background Rasey (tw underage rape/noncon, csa, gaslighting, child abuse, attempted child murder, trauma, violence, bathroom issues, victim blaming, nonconsensual drug use)

Misdirection by thekumquat - Casey and Raph find revelation through miscommunication (tw light violence)

The Bandana by TMNTFOREVER666 - April discovers a secret; gnc/possibly trans/unclear Raph (tw misgendering)

fowo's TMNT universe by fowo - A series about Raph struggling to figure out his feelings for Casey; includes themes of asexuality (tw awkwardness, discussions of bigotry; the third story includes trauma, major character death, and grief)

Casey Trips and Falls... In Love by coffeeandcream - Casey and Raph's "friends with benefits" relationship takes on new dimensions (tw explicit, awkwardness, relationship angst, insecurity, self-esteem issues)

Winner Takes All by Adoradork for Duz-Machines-1984 - Raph and Casey engage in some rough games (tw explicit)

What Doesn't Kill You by ladycyon - Raph tries to hide his heartbreak at Casey's wedding (tw one-sided relationships, alcohol, unhealthy coping mechanisms)

Mixed Signals by ladycyon - Casey figures out the reason behind one of Raph's less human habits (tw implied sexual content)

"Chapter 3" from TMNT Smut Dump by suthnmeh - A brilliant piece of Rasey art (tw explicit)

Rough and Dirty by orphan_account - Casey and Raph get dirty in multiple ways (tw explicit)

Hobo Au Caseyraph by dragona15 - Art of Raph receiving comfort from an unusual source (tw implied homelessness)

Raph✘Casey | "La La Love" [HBD Justy!!] by Ransy - A magnificent Rasey tribute (tw flashing)

You're Fine by leones @leonsi - Raph visits Casey in the hospital and tries not to crumble (tw sickness, fears of major character death, referenced panic attacks)

Say My Name by LeeontheNeon - Shot of pure Rasey fluff

this art by snuffed - Crack AU where Rasey runs headfirst into the Twilight cover

our love is a forest fire by taizi @taizi - Raph gives Casey a place to rest (tw implied alcoholism, tw past child abuse, injury)

oh, but I'm not bitter. i'm just tired. by leones @leonsi - Leo's brothers help him with a breakup; featuring bi Raph (tw past family dysfunction)

"Alcohol" from ABC TMNT by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Casey and Raph celebrate a fight and make a discovery (tw alcohol, past violence)

"Enemy" from ABC TMNT II: Out Of The Ooze by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Casey won't let Raph go again (tw mind control, violence)

"Eulogy" from TMNT ABC IV: Turtles Forever And Ever And Ever by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph's boyfriend and friends help him find some closure with a long-ago loss (tw grief, past homelessness, trauma, past violence, implied ableism)

"Intruder" from TMNT ABC IV: Turtles Forever And Ever And Ever by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph's family learns about a change in his relationship situation (tw violence, nightmares, trauma, implied child abuse, implied sexual content)

"Tastes Like Blood And Tears" from Underground Rainbows by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - 50 sentences about Casey and Raph (tw child abuse, abuse, major character death, blood, violence, sexual content, homophobia, speciesm, trauma, crying, alcoholism, torture, mpreg, amnesia)

Merry Fucking Hangover by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Insight into the turtles and their friends on Christmas morning, including background Rasey (tw implied sexual content, implied family dysfunction, drug and alcohol use)

"Bloody Kisses And Fierce Hearts (Red)" from Covered In The Colors, Pulled Apart At The Seams by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph will do anything to save Casey, even when Casey doesn't ask for it (tw past violence, past gore, past child abuse, sexual content, past homophobia, slut shaming, past underage prostitution, past domestic abuse, mentions of alcoholism, blood)

Fallen Angel by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - AU where Hun brings home a trapped turtle for his criminal gang and equally trapped son (tw child abuse, violence, bigotry, slurs, suicidal thoughts, torture, dehumanization)

"I is for...." from Rainbow Soup by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph breaks the rules to take part in a pro-intersex rights demonstration (tw implied nonconsensual medical procedures, bigotry, fears of violence)

"White bodies naked on the low damp ground" from The Waste Land by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph and Donnie a special kind of heartbreak at the end of the world (tw horror, major character death, violence, apocalypse, grief, trauma, gore, corpse desecration)

"I never promised you an open heart or charity" from The Red Room (The Bloody Chamber) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph remembers a lost love while in the hands of a monster (tw torture, mind control, underage rape/noncon, blood, knives, sexual assault, humiliation, emotional/psychological abuse)

"There are loud toys" from "All are welcome and all have a home in the toybox" of The Red Room (The Bloody Chamber) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Casey is a dick, as usual (tw explicit)

"In public" from "Embrace" of We All Need Someone To Lean On by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Casey and Raph work out an awkward, but not-unbearable means of avoiding discovery via cuddles

Yo Woody by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Mikey writes Woody letters from Northampton; features background Rasey (tw implied csa, implied underage rape/noncon, family dysfunction, trauma, past mind control, past violence)

My Flesh To Rule by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Casey engages in a difficult, but necessary procedure (tw transphobia, harassment, brief slut shaming, abortion, accidental pregnancy, implied sexual content, medical procedures, anti-abortion sentiment from minor characters)

"First Dates" from sweet creature (we're running through the garden) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph and Casey head out on a perfectly normal patrol together

"Red Lipstick" from spice up your life (who would want anything else?) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Casey dresses up for the night and Raph takes notice

not gonna write you a love song by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters for leones - A story about genderfluid!Raph working out platonic desires and aromanticism with Casey's help (tw sexual content, brief internalized arophobia)

apathy's a tragedy (and boredom is a crime) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - In which Casey, Mona, and Raph deal with memes and bondage (tw explicit)

it's important to hold on (hold on) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Little Mermaid AU where Raph ends up saving a reckless human (tw blood, injury, near death experiences, emotional constipation)

"soulmates" from with friends like these, who needs by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph's an aromantic person with a soulmate, and he and Casey have to deal with that (tw insecurity)

"forbidden/star-crossed romance" from with friends like these, who needs by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph is called to serve in a moment of need

Turtlecest (wasn't sure if this counted for request, included it separately)

Casting Stones at the River by GoblinCatKC @goblincatkc-blog - Raph and his lovers reckon with the passage of time and how it refuses to touch them (tw tcest, explicit, family dysfunction, possible abuse, violence, mental health issues, explosions, apocalypse)

Blackout by Queen_B - The turtle family play a game of hide and seek with steamy stakes (tw explicit)

Past to Present by crabapplered - Raph and his family welcome Donnie home (tw explicit, past violence, internalized ableism, trauma, family dysfunction, past separation)

A Different Path by VenusTheMarvelTurtle - Raph finds his heart dangerously tangled up with that of Leonardo, the Foot clan's most ruthless warrior (tw explicit, torture, past child abuse, child abduction, violence, mental health issues, trauma, suicidal thoughts, torture, rape/noncon, past csa, toxic relationships, alcohol, vomit)

Twisted Autumn by GoblinCatKC - Leo and Raph try to discover who they are together (tw explicit)

Broken Brother by Koalagriton - Leo finds an unconventional way of calling a brainwashed Raph home (tw explicit, alcohol, mind control, identity issues, violence)

Haunted by Kiraynn - Raph does his best to help Leo recover from an ugly experience (tw past rape/noncon, trauma, explicit)

Evolution by Kiraynn - A timeline of Leo and Raph's slowly developing relationship, through the lens of a shared bed (tw explicit, underage/underage)

Hello by Gemi - Raph has an unusual encounter in the jungle (tw guns)

Release by Blackdragon @blackdragon-sama - Leo gives Raph the support he needs at the farmhouse (tw injury, trauma)

Gravid Problems by Gemi for Blackdragon - Raph and Leo try to figure out a sticky new situation (tw mpreg, sexual content)

Push and Pull by orphan_account - Raph has a willful brother to tame (tw explicit)

Abyssal by orphan_account - Raph experiences something awful and Leo tries to help him through (tw explicit, rape/noncon, near-death experiences, trauma)

The Games We Play by babygirl127 for hummerhouse - Raph tempts Donnie into a game (tw explicit)

Usually, Don plus bed plus moaning was always a good thing. by turtlesketches for DashWrites - Raph tries to help Donnie through a difficult time (tw explicit, mpreg)

Focus by babygirl127 - Raph and his brothers teach each other about focus (tw explicit)

Colorful by Anonymous - Raph needs to watch his smart mouth, but Leo doesn't mind (tw sexual content)

Uncover by orphan_account - Raph and Mikey negotiate the rocky new world of spanking (tw explicit)

Running Scales by orphan_account for InkyTurtle (Melodistic) - Dirty little stories about Raph and his brothers (tw explicit)

To Give by orphan_account - Leo and Raph put on a show for their family (tw explicit)

Lick the Bowl by Plastron - Donnie discovers Raph is up for licking a lot of things (tw explicit)

Raphael and Donatello by RomaMarufixx - A collection of sexy Raphtello stories (tw explicit, some fat shaming)

Eggs by squishyturtlefuckfics - Leo pushes Raph's limits (tw explicit)

Handyman by Plastron - Donnie pushes himself too hard and Raph takes advantage (tw explicit)

"The Secret" from The 100 by Alessa_DC - Raph and Donnie reel from a revelation

Raphael/Donatello Mating Drabbles by Plastron - A collection of both steamy and warm-hearted stories (tw explicit, mpreg, dubious consent, body image issues)

Lava Cake by orphan_account - Mikey and Raph figure each other out with food

Fair's Fair by TheAlchemistsDaughter - Leo provides certain services for the family, but Raph wants to give back (tw explicit, insecurity)

Same Coin, Different Faces by orphan_account - Raph and his brothers work out cross-dimensional sexual tensions (tw explicit)

The Red Herring by orphan_account - Raph tries to handle losing Leo, his soulmate (tw family dysfunction, relationship issues, shame, trauma, separation, not-actual character death, grief)

Montage by hummerhouse @hummerhouse - Sexy stories about Raph and his brothers (tw explicit)

Stolen Time by GoblinCatKC @goblincatkc-blog - Leo has a strange request for Raph (tw shame, mature/explicit)

Libido in Question by Bad_WolfGirl - Raph and Donnie team up to prove the strength of Raph's libido (tw sexual content)

Drawing the Short Straw by squishyturtlefuckfics - Raph and his brothers play a game (tw explicit)

Kink-Off by Stegosaur - A collection of Kinktober stories, many of them starring Raph (tw explicit)

Primordial Monsters Get Good Coverage by orphan_account - Casey gets caught up in Leo and Raph's game (tw explicit, possible dubcon)

To Succumb by orphan_account - Mikey helps Raph test his limits (tw explicit)

Unwanted Bonds by Blackdragon @blackdragon-sama - Raph is brought him with heavy scars (tw explicit, trauma, child death, forced pregnancy, PTSD, depression, medical torture)

Forever is a Long Time by DuzMachines1984 (orphan_account - A collection of interwoven stories about Leo and Raph's relationship (tw explicit, trauma, dubcon, rape/noncon, abuse)

Party Time by orphan_account - Raphael is offered up at a party (tw explicit, alcohol)

The three times Raphael swore he was being stalked by Languidly - What it says on the tin, to the tune of Leo and Raph's developing relationship (tw nonconsensual stalking)

Burning Alive by spaze_cat - Raph and Donnie through interlinked stories about fire (tw injury, mentioned explosions, implied sexual content)

He Doesn't Scream by GoblinCatKC @goblincaveofficial - Leo and Raph's relationship takes a strange term (tw explicit, dubcon)

Someone Has a Choking Kink by glitch0_0 (orphan_account) - Raph lends Leo a helping hand (tw explicit, consent issues due to heat)

The Hots by Languidly - Raph can't keep his eyes off of Leo (tw explicit)

"Honor and Courage" from Everybody Wants Leo by Alessa_DC - Art of Leo and Raph together (tw very explicit)

Send Your Lifeboats Out For Me by Crowdog @50-shades-of-cloaca - Raph, Mikey, and Donnie try to figure out one of Leo's secrets (tw rape/noncon not between main characters, child abuse, victim blaming, genital mutilation, torture, trauma, violence, explicit)

The Driver's Seat by hummerhouse @hummerhouse - Raph and Leo fight over who gets taken for a ride (tw explicit, dubcon)

At Odds by hummerhouse @hummerhouse - Donnie tries to figure out his warring brothers; chapters 1 and 4 are particularly Raph-centric (tw explicit)

Doctor Donnie by PrincessFreak - Donnie pushes his brothers' medical limits; chapters 1, 4, and 7 are Raph-centric (tw explicit, dubcon)

Aggressive Empathy in the Abyss (AEITA) by Gemma Winchester (PrincessGemma12), PrincessGemma12 @princessgemma12 - Pieces of Leo and Raph's relationship unfolding in the shape of something awful (tw past underage rape/noncon, consensual underage, trauma, explicit, unhealthy coping mechanisms, flashbacks, psychological trauma, recreational drug use, PTSD)

Good as His Word by hummerhouse for NeatTea @neattea-ruby - Raph finds himself losing a high-stakes bargain with Leo (tw explicit)

Three Days Later by what_should_i_post_here - Donnie finds his place in Leo and Raph's relationship (tw explicit)

Hindsight is Twenty-Twenty by Crapapplered - Leo and Raph wage a war with Donnie serving as the battlefield (tw explicit)

Drabbles and Slash by her_silhouette - A collection of drabbles frequently centered around Donnie/Raph (tw explicit, relationship issues, shame, mind control, mpreg)

Full Throttle by Dorkjitsu - Donnie and Raph find new uses for Raph's motorcycle (tw explicit)

Erogenous by Kiraynn - Raph won't leave Leo in peace (tw explicit)

Heart to Heart by Crapapplered - Leo helps Raph when he worries about taking advantage of Donnie (tw mature/explicit)

Stairway to Heaven by Crapapplered - Casey, Raph, and Don share something special (tw explicit)

Rope by Crapapplered - Donnie is caught off guard by what Raph, Mikey, and Leo are up to behind his back (tw explicit)

TLC by Crapapplered - An injured Raph receives a very special kind of comfort from Donnie (tw injury, explicit)

Christmas Shopping by Crapapplered - Raph and Donnie go shopping together

Nara Black: Mirror's Shadow In My Skin by crabapplered, GoblinCatKC @goblincatkc-blog - Raph and his brothers desperately try to outrun a curse (tw violence)

Punishing Raphael by hummerhouse @hummerhouse - Raph gets punished for coming home late (tw explicit, dubcon)

12: Raph and Leo dirty talk HCs. Someone had to ask. <3 by Blackdragon Sama - An insight into Leo and Raph's sex life (tw explicit, mock-possessive behavior)

Raph 18 by Blackdragon-sama @blackdragon-sama - Further insights into Raph's desires (tw explicit, dubcon)

Broken words - Leonardo, with this, this, and this related art by blackdragonsama @blackdragon-sama - Leo and Raph form a dark pact (tw sexual content, blood, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, intense self-harm imagery, mental health issues)

Black Swan by hummerhouse @hummerhouse - Raph and Donnie's relationship takes a strange turn during a harrowing captivity, complicated by the presence of Agent Bishop (tw imprisonment, threatens of torture, molestation, rape/noncon, dubcon)

Knock Off by PrincessFreak - Raph struggles with his feelings for Donnie (tw internalized homophobia, misogyny, toxic masculinity, sexuality crisis, gender roles)

Leoweek RxL by NeiNing - A fan comic about Raph helping Leo out during his heat (tw dubcon, very explicit)

Trust by Kamefootninja (Kame630) - Raph learns to let Leo take over (tw explicit, phobia mention)

Show Time by Caroaimezoe - Raph witnesses something odd and it has reverberations through his relationship with Leo (tw explicit, relationship angst, insecurity)

The guilt you dont deserve [comic] by Traitmill - Raph comforts Leo after a painful experience (tw trauma, gore, explicit, guilt, blood)

Midnight Bargain by GreenElphaba - Leo and Raph find a kind of balance in their seemingly endless power struggle (tw explicit)

The Toll of Hours by GreenElphaba - Raph sits up by Leo's side and tries not to fall apart (tw injury, blood, trauma)

Let's go hunting by NeatTea @neattea-ruby - Sequel to Donny needs some love (that story has some dubcon); Leo and Raph share a special experience in a lake (tw explicit, mild near-drowning)

Losing All Control by renk3r - Raph tries to figure out what exactly irritates him about Leo (tw sexual content, mature)

Do you feel it? by Riu_wiu - Raph helps Leo come to terms with his guilt over their relationship (tw shame, relationship angst)

Self-Control by hummerhouse @hummerhouse - Raph doesn't want to be patient anymore, much to Leo's chagrin (tw explicit)

Chocolate by Kiraynn - Leo is the center of a mystery that Raph wants to solve

An Eggplant Among Pickles by Crowdog @50-shades-of-cloaca - The turtle brothers test each other's limits (tw explicit, dubcon)

"Raph" from I Routed a Labyrinth To Your Lap by orphan_account - Mikey gives Raph a special gift (tw explicit)

Quotes by what_should_i_post_here - Drabble collections from various turtle pairings (tw relationship angst, grief, loss, trauma, separation, explicit)

Bonsai by crabapplered - Leo works to change Donnie's role in the family, and Mikey and Raph take notice (tw explicit, grief, objectification)

You Are Shellarious by PrincessFreak - Raph has a strange reaction to his brothers' colorful language (tw sexual content)

Secondborn by SuuriSakara - Raph has his own way of dealing with Leo's return from Japan (tw explicit)

On the Fence by GoblinCatKC @goblincatkc-blog - Mikey gives Raph a very strange gift (tw extreme dubcon, sexual content)

Tmnt Exchange Art by Kitsune1818 for Caroaimezoe - Leo and Raph walk a dark path together (tw blood, injury, implied sexual content)

A Bet's a Bet by PrincessFreak - Raph owns up after losing a bet with Mikey (tw explicit, mild dubcon, homophobia, misogyny)

"Day 1 - Mikey/Raph - Rimming" from Taste Our Sins by squishyturtlefuckfics - Mikey irritates Raph by drawing things out (tw explicit)

My Good Girl (I) and My Good Girl (II) by squishyturtlefuckfics - Raph loves to play Leo's games (tw explicit, mpreg mention)

My own worst enemy by Caroaimezoe - Raph is determined to teach Leo a lesson (tw explicit, dubcon)

Kalamari by GoblinCatKC @goblincatkc-blog - Leo and Raph get very creative escaping a dangerous situation (tw sexual content, captivity, dirty jokes, threats of violence)

Notes on the Fridge by Geaven - Donnie, Raph, and their extended work things out over the fridge (tw sexual humor)

By Your Side by Kiraynn - Raph gives Leo the support he needs at Northampton (tw trauma, past violence)

Jungle Fever by Elphaba-Rose - 2007 AU where Leo and Raph end up in the jungle together and matters take a vastly different turn (tw explicit, violence, injury, savior complexes, mild dysfunction, blood, brief references to rape that doesn't involve either character)

Raphael x Leonardo drabble set by Goblin Cat KC @goblincatkc-blog - Raph tests Leo's limits after winning a late-night battle (tw mature, sexual content, possible dubcon)

story about SO3E01 by @ringingt - Leo awakens from his coma in a surprising way (tw surprise kissing, mild near-drowning)

yay! headcanons unite! by @blackdragon-sama - Headcanons about Raph being intersex; a possibly better term for this specific content might be dualsex, I'm not sure (tw sexual content, accidental voyeurism, inadvertent coming out)

come back for us by @blackdragon-sama - Raph tries to call Leo home (tw implied sexual content, mpreg, mind control)

Play Pretend by @blackdragon-sama, Elphaba-Fae - Leo and Raph try to find each other in the shadow of terrible things (tw explicit/mature, underage rape/noncon, csa, mutual dubcon, torture, emotional manipulation, painful sex, trauma, victim blaming, child abuse, blood, imprisonment)

meditation session by Spicyturtles - A comic about how Raph won't let Leo meditate in peace (tw explicit, possible dubcon)

Never Have I Ever by what_should_i_post_here - Secrets are unspooled during a drinking game (tw alcohol, implied sexual content)

30daysOTP SlashRaph by dragona15 - A collection of beautiful and steamy art (tw explicit)

Calm down. .Just Relax. by @ringingt - Raph and Leo on a rooftop (tw implied sexual content, possible dubcon)

We Care For You by Seigaku - Art where Raph's family shows him a special kind of support (tw explicit, background angst)

Mikey's first time by anomalae - The turtle family takes the virginity of one of their own (tw explicit)

luv ya bro by P-Jo Art - Comic where alcohol loosens Raph's tongue in the most awkward way (tw alcohol, underage drinking, homophobic language, possible internalized homophobia)

RRR/L by Navia - Art of a multidimensional Leoraph tryst (tw explicit)

Raph x Mike - Tight by EnclosureOfFish - Art of Mikey and Raph together (tw mature/explicit)

tmnt SxR hoboRaphau by dragona15 - Art of Raph having a highly charged encounter with Slash (tw explicit, implied homelessness)

Your argument is invalid by P-Jo Art - Comic where Raph goes to unusual lengths to get Leo to shut up (tw surprise kissing)

This art by languorous-sky - Raph and Leo mess around with rope (tw explicit, choking)

let me help you by Spicyturtles - Fan comic where Donnie gives Raph an offer in the shower (tw explicit)

Summer Home by spaze_cat - Leo and Raph come to an understanding on a trip to the seashore (tw light relationship angst, mentions of pregnancy)

kink sketches by @blackdragon-sama - Collection of Leoraph art (tw explicit)

those eggs by @blackdragon-sama - Art of Raph being disciplined and undone (tw explicit)

Beyond Our Control by SadoraNortica - The turtles get stuck in the past and have to deal with oncoming mating season (tw fears of child loss, explicit, consent issues due to heats)

Somewhat by Gemi - Raph and Donnie find their way towards perfection (tw injury)

Worth It by Kaliopeee - Leo catches Raph off guard (tw explicit)

I never had you down as... by @blackdragon-sama - Raph gets roped into the family entertainment (tw explicit, dubcon)

Close Shave by squishyturtlefuckfics - Mikey and Raph take advantage of surviving a dangerous situation (tw explicit)

Lure Rebound by Various - A magnificent Leoraph art collection (tw explicit, angst, separation, blood, dysfunctional relationships)

My Nightlight by squishyturtlefuckfics - Raph gives Mikey some much-needed comfort

Summer Blow Out Sale by Winnychan, xkingofgamesx - Donnie and Raph navigate the harrowing world of online shopping

How could he not? by ItsMickeyYouAss - Raph can't keep his eyes off of Leo

Visions: One Word Prompts by Gemma Winchester (PrincessGemma12) @princessgemma12 - A collection of 50 sentences from different AUs, with heavy Leoraph throughout (tw implied rape/noncon, implied incest, teen pregnancy, identity issues, addiction, food insecurity, animal cruelty, blood, child abuse, implied underage rape/noncon, implied csa, gun violence, trauma)

Slave by Spicyturtles - A Raph/Donnie comic with heavy BDSM (tw explicit)

The Violence in These Delights by Sundayeyes - Raph and Donnie make a discovery about what they're both capable of (tw explicit, choking)

Jinkyo by Caroaimezoe - Raph races to save his brother from an ugly transformation (tw violence, rape/noncon, consent issues, mind wipes, identity issues, possession, blood)

[title unknown] by buttmagoo and nicecentrifuge - Raph can't get away from Mikey right now, and doesn't really want to (tw sexual content, mature/explicit)

According to deviantArt, it’s buttmagoo’s birthday. by @nicecentrifugre - Some sexy art based on sexy fics I, unfortunately, haven't been able to find (tw mature explicit, discipline)

Mikey/Raph, an AU where one of them is physically a girl and the other one finds out. by @nicecentrifuge - A trans!Raph AU where Mikey stumbles onto his secret (tw menstruation, accidental outing)

Fortress by @nicecentrifuge - Raph and his brothers try to survive the end of everything they've fought for (tw torture, mutilation, rape/noncon, underage rape/noncon, abuse, emotional manipulation, unhealthy relationships, nonconsensual drug use, trauma, family dysfunction, blood and gore, medical issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mental health issues, possible Stockholm Syndrome, grief, trauma)

UrotsukiLeo (Half-Shell Hentai) by meh_guh for aliassmith, Cthonical (Nellie) - Raph deals with his brothers' transformation (tw explicit, dubcon)

Tonight by cndrow - Raph and Leo negotiate the moments when people is hard to come by (tw relationship angst, dysfunction)

Old Fears, New Need by orphan_account - Raph and Donnie keep each other together (tw blood, injury, sexual content)

Quality Time by Kiraynn - Leo and Raph take a few early-morning moments together (tw explicit)

Lost and Found by Kamefootninja (Kame630), NaruButt - Raph and his brothers find a long-lost sibling named Donatello (tw past rape/noncon, past csa, past sexual slavery, trauma, miscommunication, violence, grief, possible consent issues)

2012 turtles nsfw head canons by orphan_account - Includes a section with Raph (tw explicit)

This animation by Hammytoy - Raph and Mikey quite simply go for it (tw explicit)

U R Beautiful by Caroaimezoe - Raph is jealous of Leo's attention (tw explicit, knives)

Halloween party - Gift for Katii-kee by RenegadeBleat - Leo and Raph at Halloween (tw explicit)

Steel by Plastron - Donnie and Raph experiment with Raph's san (tw explicit, discussions of violence)

Warm by DashWrites for Sakycchan - Leo needs Raph's help to deal with the chill (tw explicit, mpreg)

Claiming and being Claimed by DarkxKitsune - Raph and Mikey need some help with their heats (tw explicit, mild dubcon due to heats)

"Young Lovers With Their Legs Tied Up In Knots" from My Ghost, Where'd You Go? by Gemma Winchester (PrincessGemma12), PrincessGemma12 @princessgemma12 - Raph and Leo explore the occult and a hayloft (tw explicit, shame)

Is This Where You Want To Be? by PrincessGemma12 @princessgemma12 for This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Westworld AU where Raph visits a brothel and has a strange encounter (tw dehumanization, possible consent issues, discussions of fetishization, objectification, explicit)

Auto-Robotic-Erotic 2: Electric Boogaloo by squishyturtlefuckfics - Raph learns one of Donnie's more peculiar secrets (tw explicit)

Kissed By The Whip by Lisa_Frank - For once, Raph wants Leo to control him (tw explicit)

Natural Sub by GoblinCatKC @goblincatkc-blog - Raph and his brothers discover Leo's secret (tw explicit, discussions of dubcon but consent is strong here)

OT4 by Queen_B - A sweet, steamy series about Raph and his brothers (tw explicit)

Aphrodisia by Kiraynn - Leo is a scion of the Foot Clan, and Raph can't look away (tw violence, explicit)

Art by FaRaDo-Age - Raph and Donnie with some new getup (tw sexual content, mature)

Inspired by the dream I had last night. by nei-ning - Raph seeks comfort from Leo after a bad dream (tw nightmares)

and maybe it'll be clear when we get there by @leonsi leones for This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - A collection of polyamory-themed stories, a lot of them including Raph; specific pairings are in the summary they were angelic enough to create (tw past abuse, self-harm, trauma, migraines, self-doubt, secret relationships, implied rape/noncon, implied csa, mental health issues/illness, vomiting, insecurity, self-hatred)

Colors by PrincessGemma12 @princessgemma12 - Multiamory March about a TMNT OT8 of Raph, Leo, Donnie, Mikey, Casey, Karai, April, and Shini (tw implied rape/noncon, pregnancy scares, implied violence, teen pregnancy, unplanned pregnancy, parent/child incest, csa, underage rape/noncon, abortion)

Walk Me Home by DarkxKitsune - Mikey trades letters with a prisoner (tw jail, discussions of molestation, potentially unhealthy relationships)

Raph is a Femboy by PrincessFreak - Raph's family discovers his secret (tw outing, dubcon, humiliation)

Call Me By Your Name by PrincessGemma12 @princessgemma12 - Leo and Raph try to figure out a mind swap (tw explicit, self-esteem issues)

I Keep Telling Myself This Might Be Nothing by PrincessGemma12 @princessgemma12 - Raph and his family stumble into a relationship (cw underage/underage sex, underage masturbation; tw identity issues, shame, loneliness, relationship difficulties)

This by Anonymous - Raph struggles not to be jealous, but Mikey makes it nearly impossible (tw possessive behavior, jealousy, potentially unhealthy)

“i was an island / before you came along.” - I Was an Island, John-Allison Weiss by lonescove - A magnificent art piece about Leo and Raph (tw implied sexual content)

Cliché (it was too late for me) by leones @leonsi - Story with Leo/April focus, but strong background Raph/Donnie (tw mild homophobia, speciesm, trauma, eating disorders, anxiety)

Did somebody say threesome? No? Oh well. 2007!Leo, 2012!Leo and 2007!Raph <3 by reosexuals - A multiverse-spanning art piece (tw explicit)

it's not revolutionary by leones @leonsi - Raph does his best to support the turtle he loves (tw mentions of self-harm, self-hatred)

Almost Home by cndrow - Raph and Donnie make up for lost time (tw explicit, implied character death, separation, grief, trauma, stress)

Cussing fetish? by RiusTcestCave - Comic about Raph's unusual kink (tw explicit)

Just Practice by ninjazure - A comic about Leo and Raph's attempt to practice kissing, and how it slips out of control (tw implied sexual content, accidental voyeurism)

Art by nise - Leo and Raph share a kiss

Art by えんらい - Raph and Leo in bed together (tw explicit)

Art by ８２ - Raph and Leo celebrate Halloween

Art by ninjazure - Leo taking Raph apart (tw blood, sharp objects, very explicit)

Yeahh, have some tcest on flying pillows~ by sakycchan - Leo and Raph give Donnie some tender love (tw implied sexual content)

The Benefits of Not Shutting the Fuck Up by Floozdooz @floozdooz - Donnie is determined to shut Raph up (tw underage/underage, explicit, dubcon)

Raphael / Donatello tcest by cndrow - A series of stories about the genius and the brawler (tw explicit)

Strange Little Shadows by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - 50 sentences about Karai, Raph, and Leo (tw implied sexual content, mind control, injury, choking, trauma, major character death, grief)

The things that we could be by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Leo, Raph, and Karai camp out under the stars (tw explicit)

"But I'm brighter when you make me fade" from Red-Light District by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Leo and Raph have their own ways of connecting as a couple (tw explicit, BDSM)

"Dance with me (Mon amour)" from The House Of The Rising Sun by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Mikey is a born showman and Raph is just along for the ride (tw explicit)

Say you'll never let me go by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Donnie and Raph comfort Casey during his period (tw mild dysphoria, explicit, menstruation, pain)

"The Confession" from sweet creature (we're running through the garden) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph lets something slip during a squabble with Leo (tw canon-typical violence)

"Teddy Bears" from sweet creature (we're running through the garden) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph and Mikey go bear hunting at the carnival

"Grey Memorial" from i'm bitter (you're still in my head) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph comes to terms with his feelings for Leo far too late (tw grief, major character death, heartbreak, suicide attempt)

"The Embrace" from spice up your life (who would want anything else?) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph gets creative making Donnie take a break (tw implied sexual content)

"Fluffy Cuffs" from spice up your life (who would want anything else?) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph is tempted into letting Mikey take over for a while (tw mature/explicit)

Ripples In Dark Water by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - A poem about Raph and his brothers, based on Casting Stones at the River by GoblinCatKC (tw violence)

"my eyes are glazed, 'cause they dug my grave" from you say I'm callous and I'm numb by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph struggles with all of the things he can't control after Leo's abduction (tw implied csa, implied underage rape/noncon, self-loathing, guilt, trauma, helplessness, violence, mind control)

wave your hands in the air if you feel fine by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters for PrincessGemma12 - The Hamato family celebrated living another day (tw implied past abuse, past violence)

under the water i'll be sharpening my knife by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Murder on the Orient Express through a lens of TMNT and polyamory (tw violence, blood and gore, revenge)

come on, come around (i've been feeling down) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - The kids who survived the apocalypse finds their relationships changed in the aftermath (tw trauma, apocalypse, guilt, grief, implied sexual content, mental health issues)

light in the crack that's separating your thighs by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph, Mikey, and Donnie express their affection for Leo (tw explicit)

i promise that you'll breathe again by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - SAINW AU where Leo, Raph, and Mikey deal with the fact of surviving (tw alcohol, implied sexual content, trauma, past alcoholism)

feeling like a boulder hurtling by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - The Foot's newest warrior has particular trouble with two enemies (tw violence, rape/noncon, mind control, emotional manipulation, identity issues)

gonna pop some tags by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Brothers and lovers through the lens of thrifting (tw implied sexual content, trauma)

there is love inside this madness (we are walking on the moon) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - After leaving their timeline, Raph and his family have to forge new lives together (tw memory issues, identity issues, sexual content, grief)

just gettin' started, don't you tiptoe, tiptoe (ah) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph and Usagi take Leo apart (tw explicit)

we'll pass it on to you, we'll give the world to you by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Four brothers write letters to their daughter (tw surprise parenting, implied sexual content, implied medical experimentation, grief, sick kids, trauma)

"Red (Life)" from Kaleidoscope Snapshots by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Casey and Raph try to reorient themselves after a close call (tw blood and gore, injury, past violence)

calling all the monsters - A modern AU with the Hamato family starring as a collection of queer horrors (tw bigotry, implied violence, implied torture, implied bigotry, unreliable narrator for the second, implied abuse, implied sexual content)

the music fills me good and it gets me every time by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - A-spec!Donnie finds his place in his brother's relationship (tw explicit)

i'll be there to hold you (don't be afraid of the dark) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - A series about Casey and the monsters who live in his skin (tw possession, explicit, dubocn, sexual content, mpreg, past suicidal thoughts, past abuse, violence, gore, potentially unhealthy relationships)

i don't like anyone better than you, it's true by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - Raph, Casey, and Donnie deal with the fallout from an encounter with unusual flora in the woods (tw explicit, dubcon due to sex pollen)

i've been searching all night (light the fuse and let me take flight) by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters for braeburns - Raph and Mikey deals with changes good and bad as they wreak a little havoc on the streets of New York (tw explosions, post Roe V. Wade life, implied sexual content)

green hearts raw and beating by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - A story about the beings who live in the woods beyond a small town (tw implied violence, implied rape/noncon not involving main characters, mentions of abortion, mentioned nonconsensual bodily modification of a bad guy, curses)

just want a way of keeping you inside by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters - A polyamorous love story written in tattoos (tw implied sexual content, sexual content, past abuse, trauma)

darling, are you ready for more? by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters for PrincessGemma12 - Kinktober drabbles about Leo and Raph (tw explicit, insecurity, trauma, flashbacks)

[straight-to-the-pain]

Tagging

Since I started this blog, I've tried to tag my content by trope and type because it's a helpful way of finding content I want to see, and for others, a good way of avoiding content they don't. I've tried to standardise my tags so that they can easily be searched (tumblr permitting).

However, there are inevitably going to be things that slip past me and tropes that I forget to tag. You are welcome to ask me to tag something, and I will tell you if there is a reason why I specifically chose not to.

I will not be tagging gender in whump, just as I wouldn't tag the race or sexuality of my characters, but I will try to tag for gendered or discriminatory violence if it comes up.

I've also chosen not to use the term 'tw' when tagging my content. Any of my tags could be a trigger for someone, and a promise of good whump for someone else. In my own writing, I try to give a brief summary of tropes and content under the header, both to warn and to entice.

I tag explicit sexual content with #nsft and suggestive but not explicit content with #spicy content. My tag for spicy content that's relatable to me personally is #s is a mess and a masochist.

I tag by oc with the tag #oc: [insert name here], my own writing with #my writing, original content with #my stuff, and asks I answer with #asks answered. I also tag posts that I've been tagged in with #tagged for me and my asks answered by other people with #my asks answered. My personal posts tag is #s talks and I tag complimentary asks with #nice stuff. I also try to tag by fandom.

Here is a list of common tags you might find on my blog:

By post type: #tropes and prompts #whump #whump meta #whump community #whumpy lyrics #art #whump art #whump gifs #whump video #whump audio #whump memes #laugh tag (anything funny) #s talks #asks answered #my asks answered #my stuff #my writing #my OCs #ask game #tag game By whump genre: #spy whump #military whump #sci-fi whump #fantasy whump #vampire whump #pet whump #box boy universe #superhero whump #minor whump (for characters under 18) #emotional whump #medical whump

By whump trope: #torture #public torture #captivity #kidnapping #electricity torture #water torture #solitary isolation #restrained #blindfolded #gagged #collared #dehumanisation #intimate whumper #forced to watch #implied/referenced torture #noncon #implied/referenced noncon #drugging #burning #branding #whipping #punishment #failed escape #gore #fingore #hand whump #eye gore #tooth gore #knives #held at knifepoint #held at gunpoint #self sacrifice

#grabbed by the hair

#manhandling

#defiance #needles

By comfort trope: #aftermath of torture #past trauma #painful wound cleaning #recovery #caretaking #comfort #rescue #hospital whump

Others: #alcohol #emeto (vomit) #politics #religion #abuse #child abuse #animal death #death #murder #nsft #spicy content #s is a mess and a masochist #tagged for me

[ashintheairlikesnow]

basorexia - Chris

basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss

CW: Survivor of abuse initiating inappropriate contact with caretaker, implied attempted spice (attempt is rejected), referenced pet whump and past whump of a minor

"Nope."

Jake pushes him away, like always, and the rescue presses forwards, climbing into his lap, cocking his head just so to the side until he feels his hair brush his cheekbone.

Good boy, there you go, pretty faces get fed, don't they?

The boy locks his hands behind the big man's neck, following the desperate insistence that he do what it takes to keep Jake's eyes on him. Keep him happy, keep him thinking the boy is good, will be good for him.

"I'll say it again, Chris," Jake says insistently.

Right. His name is Chris now.

"Then, then, then say it," Chris says back, his own voice low and soft and sweet like he is trained to be. He tries again - gets just a slight brush of lips - before Jake pushes him back again, more firmly than before.

"Absolutely fucking not. Come on, kiddo. You ever seen Addams Family? We can watch that, yeah? Instead of... we're not doing this."

The boy pauses, sitting back a little. "Wh, what's... Addams Family?"

"A movie. It's weird as fuck. Come on, you'll like it. Sit on the couch with me."

"You're not... mad?"

Jake snorts, turning to grab the remote and pull Netflix up on the TV. "No, Chris. You're not the first one who has to learn they don't have to do that."

Chris nods, slowly, shifting back and away from him. But he feels a little lonely, without the touch that means he's been good. A little worried. Maybe a little scared.

I want to be touched. Being touched means I'm good.

He's tense, kneading carefully at his shirt, until Jake offers an arm and lets the rescue curl up at his side, against his warmth.

I want to be touched.

Touch means I'm good.

Maybe it's okay if the touch is only this.

[friendlylocalwhumper]

content warning: triggering of a survivor, referenced captivity, referenced dehumanization/pet whump, whumper called “sir” and “owner”, referenced and implied noncon.

That’s me, Marlow thinks, leaning forward so chestnut locks cascade over his shoulders. That’s me, I’m her.

On the television, a woman sits up on a bed. She’s wearing a deep blue slip, one strap hanging loose off her shoulder. She just noticed that her kidnapper was sitting in an armchair watching her, waiting for her to wake.

“That’s me,” He whispers, eyes locked on the woman, and then - the camera pans over to the kidnapper, and a blush blooms across Marlow’s cheeks. The man is shirtless, leaning back with power, wearing suit pants and pristine dress shoes. There’s a glass of liquor in his hand. An absolute aura of power hangs around him like the sunlight that streams over his shoulders, clinging to his form.

“She’s like me.” The whisper is more certain, now, and fainter with awe. Marlow’s eyes flick to the center of the screen like the panning of the camera demands, but every moment that the kidnapper is anywhere in sight, Marlow seeks him out, drawn toward him like the odd, entranced woman leans into his unwelcome touch.

“Chris?”

Brown eyes dark with want flutter, and Marlow takes an uneven breath. Chris. Chris takes an uneven breath. He turns his head, tearing his sight from the screen, to see Blake watching him instead of the movie.

“Yes?”

His friend’s face crinkles with confusion, concern. “What do you mean, she’s like you?”

He is not Marlow. His hair is a little longer, now, like feathers on his shoulders, but not long enough to fall in waves down his back. He is his own. He isn’t Marlow.

The screen draws his attention again, his whole body perking up with rapt focus as the man’s voice hums out of the speakers.

“Look at you, waking up in my bed.”

Chris leans toward the words, throat nearly vibrating with a hum in answer, fingers curled to clutch at the cushions at his sides.

“Chris. Look at me.”

Blake isn’t important. Acting fine isn’t, either. Nothing is more important than what the man on the screen says. He strides across the room toward the woman, movements slow and purposeful, and she tips her head up to look at him. The light catches along her jawline and lips. Her hair falls back as she looks up through her eyelashes. The man’s hand finds its place at the curve between her bare shoulder and throat, and if Chris wasn’t Marlow at the start of the movie, he is now. He would do anything to be sitting on Sir’s bed, to be touched like that, looked down on like that. Will the man on screen shove her down? Will he pull her into a kiss? Will she lean into it all on her own, press against him, give way under his hands like she was made for it?

“Chris. Dude, snap out of it.”

The screen dies into black, the image gone. Marlow cries out in distress as the characters disappear, as Sir disappears from his desperate daydream weakly tied to the scene he’d pressed himself into.

“Look at me. Chris. Chris. Look at me.”

Well, if Sir’s not on the screen anymore… Marlow turns his head to the side. He must look almost as forlorn as he feels. Blake frowns. Touches his arm. Marlow wouldn’t dream of pulling away. Maybe Blake wants to play out what they were watching. Maybe he wants to climb onto Marlow and look down on him, speak like he’s in charge, take control. Marlow wants that, wants anything close to his owner.

“It’s just some stupid movie. That lady’s not like you. That guy’s not him.”

Marlow’s shoulders sink. Chris’ shoulders. Why can’t he be Marlow? That itch to obey is still in him, so easy to lean into, when he sees the danger, the beauty, the glamor of someone pretty being held in a luxurious mansion-prison by a stunning, powerful man. He had that, he had it and it would have been the best thing in the world if he hadn’t made Sir punish him so much, hadn’t been boring enough to be handed off to guests and friends for borrowing.

“She’s not like you. You’re not her, Chris. You know how I know? Because it’s a shitty movie. She got kidnapped, and she didn’t fight at all. She didn’t care. Some horny guy probably wrote the script. You’re not like that. You fought, Chris. I know you did.”

He… he did. Chris knows he did. He remembers the rewards… no, the punishments… beatings when a blindfold was tied around his head and he cried, cowered, quaked on the floor under Sir’s fury. Before that, he remembers waking up, undressed, alone, sitting on the floor of a small dark space and thinking he could fight his way out. He didn’t give in for a long time.

“I did, I know I did,” He mutters, gently twisting his arm free of Blake’s grip. “I… I fought.”

“Yeah. Hell yeah, you did. You fought as hard as you could. And you got out, after a while. Got better. You’re Chris. You’re fine, you’re safe. You don’t have to do anything. We were just watching a movie, and it got fucked up, and you… got all Marlow.”

Chris cringes, inching away from his friend, tension building under his skin. “No, I… don’t call me… that.”

Hands rise, drawing Chris’ attention. It’s a surrender. Blake isn’t arguing. “My bad. Man, just… don’t get all fucked and start calling me your owner, or something, alright?”

Disgust tugs on Chris’ upper lip. Humiliation sends him to his feet, moving away from the couch. “I’m not. I won’t. Don’t - don’t touch me.”

Blake watches, elbows settling on his knees as he leans forward to watch his friend go. He glances to the darkened TV, then back to the doorway that swallowed up Chris in his escape. To send Chris that far off the deep end, that fast… it must’ve been pretty close to what he’s seen before. What he went through.

It’s fucked up. Blake knows it is. But he pulls out his phone, opens a streaming app, pulls up the movie. Finds the scene they were watching. Hits play.

Chris can’t talk about the guy that fucked him up. Can’t do it without getting quiet, sounding almost like he’s describing a god that loomed over him, stunning and awe-inspiring, no matter how awful he could be.

This might be the only way Blake can get familiar with the asshole that owned Chris. Fucker that broke him, shaped him into whatever Marlow is.

Blake just… he just needs to know. He needs to see it, what that kind of asshat looks like, walks like. Sounds like. He needs to understand what Marlow sees in him. What power, what shallow fucking charm can soothe someone beaten, someone broken who’d do anything for approval.

He has to know why Marlow can be so scared, and get that deep pink blush over his freckles, at the same time. He just… has to.

[whump-mania]

previous / next

(tw: implied/referenced past noncon, panic attack, accidental triggering)

Vincent, Quinn, and the rest of the elites were clearing out an old room in the bunker to make into a new training room. They were making good progress, lifting heavy rubble and debris out of the room with the help of each other.

“Hey Quinn! Can you help me out with this plank?” Called Felix, already holding the front end of the wooden plank.

Quinn nodded and made their way to their teammate, getting ready to lift. “Um…how do you want me to…”

“I’ll get this part, you can get that one on the end. Me in front, you in the back,” Felix said with a smile.

Quinn froze.

Me in front, you in the back.

“W…What…?” Quinn’s vision darted around, their voice small and panicked. They looked at Felix like he was the scariest thing they’d ever seen.

“Uh—” Felix dropped the plank and backed away. “W-What’s going on, did…did I say something?”

“No,” Quinn whispered, terrified. They tripped on their own feet and fell to the ground with a thud, backing themselves against the wall. They never took their eyes off of Felix.

Vincent heard the commotion and dropped what he was carrying, rushing over and nudging Felix out of the way. “Quinn, what’s going on? What happened?”

“NO!” Quinn screamed and scrambled to the corner, lodging themselves into it so hard that they could have phased through the wall. “Please, please, no no no no no…”

“I…I have no idea what I did,” Felix said breathlessly, backing away. Vincent shot him a glare before returning his attention to Quinn.

“Quinn, do you know where you are?”

Come on, I know you’ve at least taken their mouth before.”

“Can you hear me?”

Why not go the extra mile?

“Quinn, please, it’s me!”

Let’s make this quick.

Quinn screamed again and shielded themselves from Vincent. It was more than just fear. They were gone, clutching at their own clothes and hiding their body as much as they could.

When Vincent saw how desperate they were to cover themselves, it dawned on him what was happening.

“Everyone out.”

“But—” Kari started.

“Go.” Vincent turned and pointed at the door. The rest of the elites hesitantly left, leaving Vincent and Quinn alone.

Vincent turned to Quinn again. “Quinn, where are you? Who’s with you?” He asked, forcing his voice to be calm as possible.

Quinn whimpered and looked around them, Vincent’s words finally starting to get through to them. “D…Dan…” They were staring wide-eyed at a wall past Vincent, shaking and hugging themselves.

“Don’t look over there,” Vincent said quickly, blocking their vision. “It’s just you and me. It’s Vincent. I’m here with you. Daniel isn’t here.”

Quinn blinked, forcing themselves to look into Vincent’s eyes. “…Hu…Hunter…?”

Vincent shook his head. “No, he’s not here either. It’s us. They’re far away from here,” he said softly. “Do you know who I am? Can you tell me?”

“…I-I don’t…” They were getting in their own head. Their breathing picked up, and soon they were hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey…” Vincent carefully put an arm on Quinn’s shoulder. They flinched, but didn’t pull away. “Take your time. Take some deep breaths, nice and slow like me. I know you’re confused.”

Quinn stared deeply into Vincent’s eyes and swallowed, starting to copy his breathing patterns. Soon, they melted into the touch on their shoulder.

“V…in…”

They collapsed into sobs before they could finish, launching themselves forward and latching onto Vincent’s chest.

“I’ve got you,” Vincent whispered into Quinn’s hair. “Those fuckers are never gonna touch you again, okay?”

Quinn nodded between their sobs and stayed there until they exhausted themselves. The rest of the elites came back into the room an hour later to see Quinn sleeping peacefully on Vincent’s lap.

The elites smiled and giggled a little, and Vincent’s face reddened.

“This never happened,” he mumbled.

tag list: @tears-and-lilies @mammonsemptycreditcard @abitefullofwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @xzinn-fury @whmp @freefallingup13 @sadistgalore @firewheeesky @finch-birb @authorofemotion @lavmars @whatwhumpcomments @w-whump @wingedwhump @writerat @wvnda-whump @whumblrwork @ficklefuddle @yesimlonely @whumptakesthecake @mylifeisonthebookshelf

[whumpqin]

Day 20: Lost (Whumptober 2020)

We’re slowly getting there! Have a new character as a treat.

Characters: Annalynn (POV), Caleb, Aridai

Taglist:@faewhump @galaxywhump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @insanitywishes @burtlederp @whumpasaurus101 @whump-only (if you want to be added to this story’s tag list or my whumptober taglist just message me!)

CW: pet whump, dissoci@tion, referenced past abuse, referenced past torture, referenced noncon, nonhuman whumpee, broken whumpee, blood, noncon touching (nonsexual), nudity (also non sexual), hallucinations, dubious caretaker, creepy/intimate whumper, gaslighting, maybe more. If I need to tag something just let me know!

Word Count: 1,055

He’s still. Completely motionless as he lay upon the bed that he’s chained to, his only remaining eye staring distantly towards the adjacent wall. If she looks at him just the right way, she knows that the poor thing would almost look dead. Sometimes she wonders if that would be preferable to… this.

Bruises line him from head to toe, fingerprints and impact marks and cuts where they nearly constantly punish and hurt him. Dried blood is caked across his skin, frozen rivulets that had run down to stain the sheets below. He’s been beaten, tortured, cut, and god knows what else since he’s been here. Annalyn curls her nose not in disgust but pity as she sits on the bed next to the Cambion.

Caleb doesn’t flinch as she draws the cloth across his face anymore. Even across his eye, where he once threatened to ruin her bloodline with a single bite if she persisted. Now he’s closed off to the world around him, and it makes Annalyn wonder if there’s anything left in that body of his, or if he’s just a shell of what he once was.

For good measure she draws the blanket over Caleb’s lower section so that she doesn’t think about it too much.

Pulling back a loose strand of her red hair, Annalyn works her way across Caleb’s face, gently scrubbing the dried blood from cuts and his frequent nosebleeds. She continues drawing the washcloth as smoothly as she could down to his neck, and the Cambion finally shivers to life out of the sheer fear of being touched anywhere else, a low, animalistic whine working its way from his lungs. Caleb’s tail curls, unburdened by the blanket, over his covered legs in an effort to protect himself.

Annalynn swallows. “Stay still,” she orders softly. He doesn’t respond to much else besides orders, as she remembers her sibling telling her.

Caleb immediately falls still, single eye staring, frozen with fear, at the same spot on the wall. Annalynn feels a strange twist in her stomach, discomfort and a strange sense of power making her unsure of how to properly interpret herself for a moment.

He stays like that, faded pupil shaking as it darts quickly, as if he was looking at something. Annalynn finally glances behind her to only see the lovely wooden walls of the house she lives in.

“What are you looking at?” she asks, trying to keep her voice soft. She knows he has to answer her. It’s not like he has a choice.

“I… I s-see-see… him…” he whispers. “If… if ‘m… ‘m st-still, he… he w-w-wo-won… won’t…”

Caleb’s eye fills with tears as he grits his teeth, filled with countless emotions that Annalynn can’t even begin to understand. She purses her lips, pausing to draw some of the hair sticking to his forehead back behind his ear to offer some sort of comfort to the Cambion.

“That’s…” She swallows again, unsure of how to go about this. Annalynn forces a smile, even if Caleb can’t see her right now anyway. “That’s right, just stay still, Caleb. Think you can do that?”

His breath hitches, catching somewhere in the back of his throat. “Y-y-yes, M-Miss…” Caleb mumbles.

“Good… good boy.” Nothing in his posture changes, of course, because Caleb was already so still it’s hard to tell that he’s not a statue, but Annalynn knew that being told he was good seemed to comfort him. His breathing relaxes, just a fraction, and that makes her feel a bit better about praising him in the first place. 

As she continues her self assigned task, Annalynn can’t help but catch the subtle creak of the door to the bedroom. Out of the corner of her eye she catches reddened hair like hers peeking in through the cracks, but she ignores it until it becomes the entire body finally slipping into the room. Then she finally tilts her head in their direction, seeing Aridai quietly moving towards the bed.

“He behaving for you this time?” Aridai murmurs to keep to the quiet atmosphere to the room, a slight smirk on their face. They, too, remember when Caleb was much more feisty than this.

They were probably the one to make sure he was never like that to Annalynn ever again.

“He is. I-I don’t want to know what you did to him, to make him like this, Ari,” she says quickly as their mouth opens. It was easy to see that glimmer of excitement that sparked in their eyes, to explain how well they’ve learned to break someone to a thousand pieces and keep only the bits they wanted.

Aridai seems disappointed, slightly, but shrugs. “Your loss. But it is much easier like this, yeah?” They stride over to Annalynn’s side, by Caleb’s head, crouching so that they cut off his view of the wall. Aridai reaches out and pets Caleb, and she watches as he begins to shake, just slightly. “I think this is the quietest either of us have gotten him in a while. Isn’t that right, little diamond?”

They ruffle his hair with a small chuckle, eyes practically glinting the more that Caleb panics. He looks away from Aridai in the hopes that their presence was merely an illusion, momentarily broken from his spell out of desperation. Annalynn catches his gaze, and Caleb’s eyes lock onto her as his breathing quickens.

Begging for help. For anything.

Annalynn forces herself to stay still and watch.

“Hey, don’t look at her like that, you manipulative thing,” Aridai snaps, tilting Caleb’s head forcefully by his curved horns so that he could no longer look at Annalynn. Then, pleased, their eyes turn back to Annalynn to scan her face. “Anyways. I’m getting ready for bed. I just came in here to say goodnight.”

“Ah. Well, um… goodnight, Aridai.” Her voice is tense, but if Aridai caught it they don’t seem to show it.

“Night. As for you,” they say, turning their head back to Caleb. They lean forward, planting a kiss on the side of his head, careful to not get speared by the Cambion’s horns. “Goodnight, Elisha.”

As more tears sprang to Caleb’s eyes from the name, Annalynn’s sibling pulls away and walks out of the room.

She sighs, watching as the life drains from Caleb’s eyes.