#more nightwatch asks

[thaltro]

Was there an in-between point of passive! Nightmare’s normal face and Atrophy’s…yknow…. Like, how Atrophy eyeball??

(I’ve been thinking too hard about how Nightwatch versions of crossmare errormare or killer mare shipkids would look like because the design style for is au is just too interesting not to, but there’s the issue of how the hell to project how alien Atrophy looks onto a ship kid. Like, with how cross’ scar is longer and across his face maybe nightwatch incubux would have a row of the “teeth” (from the inside of Atrophy’s pupil) protruding out from across his face. Or a nightwatch tenpatch would have the inside of their left eye have the same design as Atrophy’s face hole.)

Here’s the transition between passive and corruption for atrophy.

Also some of his common faces at the bottom but that’s extra unrelated art

Now Atrophy has no bones or ecto or anything he originally should have. He is just goo, very acidic toxic goo. So if he were to have a baby then that child would probably be incredibly chronically disabled because the goo would eat the organic parts of the child. Atrophy naturally is supposed to present more mold and fleshy like, he just over 700 years now has the resources and practice to shape his body perfect to how he wants it. But a baby wouldn’t so they would look like a uh,, body horror baby. Random sets of teeth in random facial holes and large cysts of painful acid. Small plant like mold growths on their face like whiskers.

An ugly baby most likely. If that baby grew up it would be interesting to see how it looks and develops it’s form.

More realistically Atrophy would kill it as he doesn’t like ugly things, or put it in a little jar in a display case.

Now for shipping

Yk i actually did not write nightwatch with ships in mind believe it or not (with some exceptions). So it was, surprising to say the least when a lot of people talk about ships and nightwatch in my asks. Out of the three ships you mentioned only one is possible? Errormare, but even then Atrophy doesn’t like poor people and they virtually don’t interact. Killer is a slave to Atrophy and Atrophy would rather eat another tree then touch him. and Cross is very much dead (or so how I originally wrote him, but it seems like alot of people want to see cross in nightwatch so uh I’ll consider his life,, I’ll probably bring him back so I guess he’s alive?)

But also in nightwatch, babies are sometimes made through divine intervention. So I guess if creators wanted to fuck with them they would bless the world of nightwatch with a mold baby. Which again atrophy would kill or jar.

Sorry if my reply is a downer, I do enjoy your ideas for design! I think atrophy’s children of they were somehow alive and survived the jar and atrophy- would be a good opportunity for crazy designs like scar teeth (great idea). If they did carry on atrophy’s scar then I think it would be a good metaphor for generational trauma as that scar is just symbolic of his trauma. Idk there’s many interesting ways you can take that and I’m happy you’re thinking about nightwatch.

I do encourage waiting for the comic before shipping because,,,, well there’s a lot of graphic abuse and torture between a lot of characters who are commonly shipped together in the utmv fandom (not just killermare but more). No need to feel bad about this though, I’m not upset and there is no way for you to know that!

Please keep thinking of nightwatcg it makes me happy and I can’t shut up.

[ruins75]

who are you voting for nymph? :0

Mary. she’s the only one I really play

For survivors im rooting for Patricia, but I don’t play her (or survivor much in general) which is why my votes for only Mary

[thaltro]

He also has metal reinforcements in his joints to make sure they don’t fall out of place.

Being rebuilt from an amalgamate to a full monster body makes things really fucky for the body. His joints get worse over time and he needs surgery every few years to fix them.

further expansions in the light of an incredibly miserable flareup

memorys character coding to have hEDS is shown through their genetic makeup (save file code).

ehlers danlos syndrome is a connective tissue disorder. i usually simplify this to people saying that, essentially, all of the stuff that holds me together is a lot looser than the average person. i experience a lot of subluxation and problems in particularly the lower half of my body, but everywhere is affected. (organs, veins, vocal cords, eyes, skin, everything. not just joints)

this also causes me a complete absence in proprioception. because i have less of a limit on how i can move my body, i actually have no idea where it is in space unless im in water and have constant resistance. i have to look at stairs when im walking up and down them because i need to manually measure how high i lift my legs, and i mentally register my feet as turned completely inward when theyre straight. pretty weird

memorys code is scrambled. their body is naturally held together by upset code. things where theyre not supposed to be. theres wall code in their legs. the attempts at remaking were technically successful, but they still struggle with a body thats not really technically solid. this code scramble affects them mentally too. they often feel out of bounds or set in a place theyre not supposed to. they have to double check that theyre not slipping through, even though its not a common occurance. their walking patterns are always the same.

theres a lot to it. but some snippets here.

with memory i also hope to spread some representation of this disorder because i know i would like to feel seen and i dont know if the same goes for my fellow zebras. its a nightmare. always open to answering questions about it or discussing it

[sailorsoons]

Midnight Sails (c.sc)

PAIRING: Pirate!Seungcheol x f.reader 

SUMMARY: Seungcheol has never been able to give his heart over to anything but the sea, which has landed him in a never ending game of chase with the sea’s favorite daughter. 

WC: 2,148

AU: Pirate AU, Fantasy

GENRE: Established Relationship But Make It Weird

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: A little vague on the details of the world building, cannons and firearms and weapons, not really violence at all - no one gets injured. Some minor cursing. Reader’s crew is vaguely creepy and threatening. 

A/N: This is for this request! I hope you enjoy - I actually now want to write way more of this world and pairing soijsaoijes.

A/N 2: Obviously this is in parts inspired by PotC but like if there was a god who presided over the death and the sea and she was his favorite kid kind of thing. 

MASTERLIST | ASK | FOR MY MILESTONE EVENT | PERMANENT TAG LIST

THE SHIP CREAKS AS IT SAILS GENTLY ACROSS DARK SEAS. Seungcheol can see the blackness of the night outside of his small window, endless and dark like the whale oil burning in the lanterns in his room. It smells a bit acrid because of the closed-in space, but there is spiced incense they’d picked up at their last port that he burns to combat it. 

Wiping a hand over his face doesn't wipe away the tired. They’d had plenty of days of rest before they’d parted for the open ocean again yesterday, picking up a couple of new crew members, supplies and more than enough memories of women in beds and the softness of their touch to keep his crew happy for their trek. 

Still, Seungcheol is always tired. There are courses to chart, documents to pilfer through in search of something worth sending his crew after, and plenty of responsibilities as captain to keep him stressed and busy. 

The stop in the last port hadn’t relaxed him as much as he’d needed. He sighs heavily, rolling up a map with nimble fingers. There was nothing to be done about it now. His weariness would ease the further out to sea they went - it always did. 

Placing the map back in his carefully catelogged shelf, Seungcheol goes to the washbasin in his quarters to prepare for bed. Mingyu is at the helm tonight and the nightwatch is well into their duties for the night. Though they’ve been sailing all day, they’re not far enough from civilization that he’s worried about much. 

Seungcheol splashes cool water on his face. It feels good and he closes his eyes momentarily, working one of his hands into his neck, trying to force the knot there to unravel. The ship's groans and creaks are a comforting sound, backtracked by the grandfather clock ticking in the far corner. 

He lets the familiar sound sooth him, breathing in deeply. The amber from the incense is nice, but it isn’t as relaxing as open air. As salt. As sandalwood. As palm oil. It takes him a split second to realize what scent he’s thinking of - or rather who - but something interrupts the thought. Makes him pause. 

It’s dead silent in his quarters. He opens his eyes, adjusting to the lamp light. Only his reflection looks back at him in his salt-corroded mirror. He looks the same as always: dark brown eyes, dark hair that is growing a little too long past his ears, an iron hoop through his nose that he’d gotten on a dare as a teen, and an array of necklaces collected from various treasure hoards.

There are a few scars too, one right above his eyebrow that he remembers fondly. His eyes flicker in the mirror glancing behind him in the silence. He turns when his eyes alight on the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It’s stopped ticking. 

Seungcheol’s heart leaps in his chest just as he hears the first boom of a cannon. Shouts ring out on the deck as he dives for the table in the middle of his quarters. It meets him faster than he expects - Mingyu turns the wheel at the helm, making the ship keel to the starboard side. He slams into the table, cursing as pain hits him at the waist. 

Ignoring what’s surely going to be a nasty bruise, Seungcheol grabs his weapons belt, knocking things off the table as he slings it around his waist, running for the door. The weight of the belt is familiar and gives him a sense of ease, laden with pistols, knives and his saber. 

Outside, the deck is in chaos. His cannon master is barking orders, members of the crew working together to turn the swing cannons. Mingyu orders for lamps to be lit, trying to get a visual on the enemy vessel as Seungcheol marches up the steps toward the helm. 

Another boom echoes and Seungcheol feels the whistle of the cannon. He drops to his stomach and a moment later the ballistic crushes through the railing, sending splinters flying. He puts his arms over his head, protecting his skull from the debris as it smacks against the backs of his hands. 

He doesn’t hear the cannon go off again so he scrambles to his feet, making it to the helm where Mingyu throws the wheel to the left, bringing the ship straight. Wind ripples in the sales for only a moment before it dies, leaving them immobile.

Mingyu curses. “What in the blazes?” 

A boom resounds from beneath Seungcheol’s feet as The Harpy returns fire to their foes in the dark. One of the newer members of the crew - Chan, Seungcheol thinks his name is - comes running over, torch in hand. 

“Captain, the ship!” Chan leans over, panting for breath. “It appeared from nowhere. She’s portside and behind us but she’s gaining.”

“How is she gaining without wind?” Mingyu demands. 

Seungcheol closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. He smells salt and ocean, driftwood and palm oil. “What color are the sails?” 

“Black as night almost darker, like-

“Midnight?” Seungcheol asks. When Chan nods, Mingyu groans and locks the wheel in place. He begins ordering the crew to prepare to be boarded. “Stay away from the railing, lad. They like to throw men overboard.” 

“Who? What? Captain why aren’t we-”

Seungcheol claps Chan on the shoulder before jogging down the steps. The crew seems equal parts terrified that a phantom ship in the night is gaining on them and more relaxed as they pause what they were doing and gather in the middle of the ship. Some of the crew who has been with Seungcheol longer sigh like Mingyu had before jumping up to sit on a barrel while newer members like Chan stand on the main deck, hand hovering over their pistol, unsure what to do. 

To Chan’s credit, he doesn’t piss himself when he sees the enemy shift drift into the orange light cast by all the torches on board. It’s better than most can say. Seeing The Dark Tide for the first time is enough to make any pirate shit their pants, no matter how long he’s been pirating or how many strange things they’ve seen. 

The Dark Tide is beautiful, in its own way. The sails aren’t exactly sails - they’re blacker than night and they move like smoke, billowing on a wind that doesn’t exist, moved by a powder that Seungcheol has never quite understood nor dared question. The vessel is just as black, blending with the ocean save the single, bone white figurehead on the bow of the ship depicting a veiled maiden with a crown of waves and pearls. 

For a moment, it looks like there is no one on the phantom ship. It sails to a gentle stop. The water doesn’t even ripple around it, almost like it’s not there. He knows it is. The Dark Tide is as real as anything else in the world, just different. 

Mingyu appears next to Seungcheol, about to say something when the crew of The Dark Tide appears. The new members of Seungcheol’s crew cry out in surprise when the wraiths appear. They’re in all kinds of shapes and sizes, vaguely humanoid and terrifying, with eyes that burn green like hellfire and shadowy hair drifting in the wind. 

Several of Seungcheol’s crew draw weapons but he holds out a hand, warning them off. He waits as they’re boarded. Two of the wraith-like pirates linger near the railing of The Harpy, leaning over to help someone up the rope ladder and land firmly on the deck of Seungcheol’s ship.

He feels his heart flutter. Around his neck, the locket on one of his necklaces hums in recognition, burning hot through his thin sleep shirt. It echoes the heat that licks through him when you stare at him, cocking your head to the side as your sea-green eyes drink him in, starting at his feet and ending with meeting his gaze. 

“A pirate crew caught unaware,” You observe, eyes drifting away to survey his crew. He doesn’t dare look away from you for a moment, heart pounding in his chest. You click your teeth and shake your head. “How unfortunate. Shall I sink your ship for the very insult?” 

“You did shoot cannons at us.”

Your gaze finds him again and his toes curl. The urge to cross the rest of the deck and gather you into his arms nearly takes over him. Your gaze glints, equal parts dangerous and playful, an untamable churning of green and blue and every other color that makes up the ocean. 

“I shot cannons at you,” You correct him, wicked mouth curving. “I’ll admit that I missed, though.” 

“You never miss.”

Lifting a single shoulder, you approach him. Seungcheol’s men move out of his way as you approach. Some of them look at you like they want to step toward you, but it would be a mistake. You are beautiful and alluring, your energy inspiring reckless abandon, ferociousness, greed. But you’re far more dangerous than you look - Seungcheol knows this best of all. 

So he doesn’t move, instead letting you approach. You stop a few feet away from him and he can smell you. His fingers twitch. He wants to groan and reach out for you, wants to wrap his fingers in your shirt and pull you close, wants to taste the salt on your mouth and dive into your freezing cold waters until he’s numb and can’t breathe.

He doesn’t. 

You reach out to him, fingers tracing the locket around his neck. He shivers, licking his lips before meeting your gaze. Your burning eyes are on him, unreadable with the storm on the surface of your gaze. 

Wrapping your fingers around the locket, you give a sharp tug and pop the chain from his neck. Behind him, Chan gasps. No one else moves as you cradle the trinket, eyes shining. It’s in the simple shape of a heart, wrought in silver with infernal etchings across the surface. 

Closing your palm around it, you smile and take a step back. Seungcheol makes the barest sound of protest and you notice, arching a brow. Instead of telling you to stay like he wants, he says, “I worked hard to capture that.” 

You grin then. “I’m sure you’ll work equally hard to regain it, Captain.” 

Seungcheol grits his teeth. You’re sure to drive him to the edge of the world for it, to Hell - where he has been - and back again. He’s willing to do it. Willing to risk the life of his crew for the treasure of having it again, of keeping it close. 

“Until then…” You say coyly, giving him a shrug. “I’ll wait.”

Without another word, you spin on your boot and march toward the rail of The Harpy. He watches you go, aching to reach out for you. Aching to have you. But if he does, you’ll love him less for it. You won’t let him play this game, won’t like if he tries to make you do anything. 

Like the sea you’re born from, you’re untameable. You are deadly and wild, angry and calm, salt and water. You can be both beautiful and terrible, and he knows the second he tries to make you his, to keep you and covet you, you’ll destroy him. 

Standing on the rail of his ship, you turn to look at him one last time, a frown on your face. “Change the name of your ship, Seungcheol. I don’t like it.”

“Why?” He asks, a grin slicing his face. “It’s named after you, love.” 

Your mouth twitches but you don’t smile. You give a short hum and turn without another word, stepping into darkness and vanishing. Your crew of sea wraiths go with you, some jumping over the side of the ship or melting into the floor like they had never existed in the first place.

Seungcheol watches as The Dark Tide begins to sail again. It drifts atop the ocean's surface for a few feet before vanishing into the dark once more. Around him, the crew breaks out into murmurs. Seungcheol stares after the ship, chest aching. His neck feels lighter without the locket settled on his chest, right over his beating heart. 

“What was that?” Chan whispers. 

Turning, Seungcheol realizes Jeonghan has appeared from the officer’s quarters, half dressed with one eye open, yawning. “Didn’t anyone tell you?” He asks Chan with a yawn. “Our captain is in a relationship with the God of the Underworld and Tide’s favorite child.” 

“That was the daughter of Tethrakkos?” 

“Aye. And it appears we will be hunting for her heart once more.” 

“Ready for sail,” Seungcheol tells Mingyu, spinning to grin at Jeonghan and Chan, who looks mystified. “We have the heart of the sea to catch.” 

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn@thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @thepoopdokyeomtouched@eoieopda @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery @iamawkwardandshy@gyuguys @codeinebelle @ateez-atiny380 @bultaereume@yoongznme @kaitieskidmore97 @coffee-addict-kitten @gyubakeries@archivistworld @asyre @kaepjjangiya @fancypeacepersonaa @beckyloveshannie @imujings @do-you-remember-summer-127 @jbluen@mingumis @kimsaerom @imlonelydontsendhelp @eunyi@smiileflower @gyuhao365 @thefrozeneternity @heechwe

[melancholyswayafterdark]

TMNT 2007!Raphael x Fem!Reader: Make Me (NSFW 18+)

Anonymous asked: This is kind of weird but would you be able to write 2007!Raph x reader where Raph is trying to dominant and gets shy when he finds out y/n is more experienced?

ya'll im such an idiot and I accidentally deleted the anon request who had asked for this. Luckily, I keep all the reqs in a google doc when writing lol. Here goes nothing! Let me know if you enjoyed this :)

NOTE: this is my after dark blog, and you're going to find smut here. 2007 is a more mature version of the turtles, and they are around their early/mid 20s. MINORS DNI. WARNINGS : dirty talk, doggystyle, and missionary

Imagine Raphael getting thrown for a loop the first time you have sex with each other

It’s honestly so sudden, neither of you expecting it to happen the way it did.

Now, Raph has had his fair share of sex. If the turtles had to take a guess, Raph would have the highest body count out of the four of them (Donnie takes the cake for last place, he’s a scaredy-cat).

He vividly remembers women practically throwing themselves onto him while he was The Nightwatcher long ago

I mean, could you blame him? A mysterious man in metal armor with a sexy accent who protects the city?

He felt invisible, being able to be himself and enjoy life the way it was supposed to be lived

In short, Raph here is no stranger to women- he knows what’s got to be done. 

When you first met the turtles, it was thanks to a clumsy Mikey during patrol one night who came crashing into your bedroom window.

With some panicked explanations, promises to keep a secret, and to fix a window, bonds were made. Friendship blossomed. 

Feelings blossomed. 

You seemed to get along well with each and every turtle, however, something about the smug-looking golden-eyed one who didn’t speak much at first had grabbed your attention. 

As you began to come down to their home often, you found yourself having more opportunities to interact with the second oldest brother: Raphael. He had this bad-boy aura that had you hooked. 

However, it wasn’t what you thought it was.

Raphael constantly teased you, and you constantly did the same back. He had no malicious intent, and neither did you. You had simply piqued each other's interest. 

“Hey shorty,” Raph snickers at you trying to reach for something on a high shelf.

“Hey hothead,” You tease back, “How about you use those big muscles of yours to help me instead of standing there and enjoying the show?” His eyes watched your breasts bounce in your shirt as you struggled to reach what you needed. 

Oh, and he loved it. That you noticed what his game was, and that you were more than happy to play. 

His non stop picking had been his fun way of flirting with you, to which you did the same back. As it went on, a friendly yet flirtatious connection had been made. 

Only, a cloud of sexual tension seemed to follow you around every time you interacted with the turtle in red. 

There was something about Raphael that got your panties in a twist. As time went on, you found yourself fantasizing about how you’d make your move on him. It seemed that your sexual appetite grew hungrier with each and every scenario you imagined in your head. 

You wondered just how Raph was able to get you going. 

Unbeknownst to you, Raphael’s reptilian instincts give him a heightened sense of smell. 

AKA, you didn’t have to tell him, he knew- no- he could smell how down bad you were for him.

Luckily for him, your human senses weren’t as strong. 

He remembered how he tested the waters a bit, trying to see if he was the cause of the smell of arousal coming from your sex. He had to make sure you were actually thinking of him in that way. 

Long story short, he was right. One day, he placed his hands on your waist during training, only for his nostrils to be hugged with your excitement in between your legs. 

And thus, the more he flirted with you, the more he wanted- no- needed you. 

It seemed the feeling was mutual, yet you both went about your days as normal. 

Until one day, you said two words that sent Raph over the edge.

Brace yourself, Y/n.

-------

“Ya ain’t gonna take me down that easily, shorty.” Your eyes follow Raph’s figure, watching as he circles you around the dojo. Since the streets have been getting pretty bad, Raphael took it upon himself to teach you a few things just in case. 

You could almost feel your heart pounding out of your chest. Being pushed to your limits, you weren’t giving up so quickly, either. You could see Raph looking you up and down, his amber eyes stopping right at your chest. You made a good choice to wear a tight tank top today, huh?

Quickly, his eyes shoot back up to look at your own, and suddenly, he’s studying you to see what his next move could be.

“I bet money you can’t take me down this time.” You smirk, albeit you were talking out of your ass; seeing Raph’s devious smile got you going. 

“Oh, so now we’re delusional?” The turtle chuckles as he gets in a fighting stance, “Looks cute on ya, Y/n.” Raph closes the space between you both inch by inch, and suddenly, his fists are flying toward you. 

He was ready to see if you remembered what you practiced. 

You quickly dodge his first hit, brushing the loose hair out of your eyes, “I told you,” Your knees bend, and Raphs last punches don’t connect, giving you the upper hand while he’s distracted. “I pay,” with a sweep of your left leg, you were able to catch Raph off balance. “Attention!” To finish, you hop on his shell from behind, touching the pressure point on his neck with two fingers (thanks, Master Splinter!) He easily topples over, and you pin his arm behind him as you straddle the back of his rough shell. 

Okay, maybe Raphael underestimated you a bit. He had no idea where you’d learn pressure points from, he didn’t teach you those. 

Seemingly defeated, the turtle under you sighs, his breathing becoming regular and less shallow as his heart rate goes down. 

“Did Leo teach ya that?” He huffs, straining under your control. A prideful smile is formed with your lips. 

“Nope, Master Splinter did.” Why would Leo teach you something like that, anyway? I mean, it wasn’t like he trained you alone. It was always as a group with their sensei. Leonardo taught you safer tricks that didn’t require you to get so close to your opponent.

You were enjoying your little victory, and what kind of victory would it be if you didn’t rub it in Raph’s face? 

“Did I really beat Mister Hothead?” You teased the turtle under you, whose annoyed eyes seemed to burn into your skin for you to set him free.

“Aigh’t, ya got me, now, get off.” Raphael’s rough accent was music to your ears, and you couldn’t imagine letting this opportunity go to show him what you were made of. Your grip on his arm becomes tighter, and you lower your lips to his exposed neck. 

What’s the point of teasing the big teddy bear if some flirting isn’t involved, right?

“Make me.” 

Suddenly, Raphael stops struggling and falls silent. You follow suit, alleviating the pressure you put on his body while on top, letting your guard down in confusion. Before you can ask what was going on, you feel yourself being flipped over, with your back hitting the hardwood floor and Raph’s face centimeters away from your own. Your arms are pinned at the top of your head by one of his hands, while the other is placed under your chin. 

“Come again?” He purrs, eyes scanning for any sign of you wanting him to stop. But, you don’t. In fact, you wanted him to keep going. 

“I said, ‘Make me.” You could feel the heat between your legs begin to rise, and your heart practically beating out of your chest. You watched as golden eyes behind a red mask looked into your own before his free hand moved toward your bra strap.

“Ya think ya so innocent, dontcha?” You could almost jump out of your skin from the feeling of butterflies invading your stomach. It felt electrifying with every touch the turtle gave you. 

“Ya think I don’ know?” His face dives into your neck, taking a slow lick before suckling in a spot that causes your body to shiver in desire. “I can smell ya, I know that ya been wantin’ this.” You wished he would let go of your hands to give you free will, eager to take the lead and surprise him. 

It wasn’t long until your soft whimpers caused a throbbing erection to emerge, and when his hand let go of your wrists bound at the top of your head, your fingers found their way to his biceps, giving them a light squeeze. 

“Like you haven’t been wanting it, too” You challenged, trying to keep all composure. Raph comes up from working on your neck, his eyes darting to your lips that continue to tease him even though he has the upper hand. He couldn’t wait to shut you up. 

He did just that. Before you could think of something slick to say, his green lips crashed on yours, not coming up for air once. It seemed all the pent-up sexual frustration was being let out in this very moment in the middle of the dojo. 

Speaking of, it’s amazing how nobody came in by now. 

“I’ll take you right here,” You knew he would. Name a time or place and Raph would be down. You could feel tingles up and down your body from the friction, your nipples hardening from the arousal, and Raph's tongue intertwining with your own. 

It was a long time coming, and before you know it, Raph’s three-pronged hand moves one of your thighs over, only for them to rub circles around your clothed clit. Now sensitive, you wondered just how you could get Raph crumbling beneath you. “You’d like that, won’t ya?” Oh, he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. Every sentence he said in between kisses drove you up the wall, the strong desire to ride him until the wheels fell off seemed to take over, and you knew you had to prove yourself. Raphael has no idea who he’s messing with. 

His fingers then move to the hem of your leggings, dropping the hint he wants them off.

“Make sure it's locked, big guy.” Your voice hoarse from a dry throat. Looking at you one last time, Raph makes the conscious decision to listen to you. Sure, he could take you to his room and get it on, but he couldn’t wait. He wanted you now. As he makes his way to lock the dojo, you undress behind him, tank and bottoms discarded in a pile off to the side. Your red bra teasing the red-banded turtle, almost begging him to snap it off you. But before he could even think about doing so, he watched you motion for him to come over sitting on the workout bench by the dumbbells. 

“My turn,” Your body naturally gravitates toward Raphael’s sweet spots when he sits beside you. Before he can take control, you straddle his waist before he can go anywhere. Arms around his neck, your back arches in pleasure as his hands go up and down your exposed sides, heating you up as he does so. Now, Raphael didn’t expect you to take control of him that easily. If anything, he didn’t think he had it in you. But, here you were, caressing his body and grinding yourself on his throbbing cock, a wave of sinful thoughts making up his mind as he felt the pre-cum leaking onto his thigh. You must’ve noticed, because you dip a finger in the sticky substance, placing it in your mouth as the turtle’s cheeks heated up from watching you taste him. 

“Sweet,” You teased, giggling at the sight of a shy yet enticed Raphael.

You really knew what you were doing.

But, shyness aside from not being the only experienced one, he’s ready to show you just what you’re in for. With the help from you, his erection springs up after a swift movement of his lower plastron. His dick stood up with pride, begging for warmth as it throbbed once exposed to the cold air. Once in your sight, it had your own sex wanting to welcome it home. Raphael could smell it, how your pussy soaked your panties, and he couldn’t wait to take them off and make you his. 

Picking you up and laying you on the hardwood floor, you unclip your bra as Raph’s fingers find the band of your panties, throwing them to God knows where in the dojo. You’ll get them later. They didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the way Raph admired your excitement, watching you let out a submissive moan as he dipped his head in to taste you. 

“Sweet,” He comments huskily, words vibrating your cunt that sends a signal to your brain to ask for more. You didn’t just want his tongue, you wanted him inside of you.

“Stop teasing~” You murmur, your chest heaving after each and every lick your sensitive bud takes. It was enough to get your cavern dripping, and Raphael wasted no time in flipping you over onto your stomach and getting your ass up in the air, arching your back as his hands gripped your hips. You could feel his tip pressing against your tight hole, and as he took your wrists to hold them behind your back, he slowly inserted himself, your pussy squeezing him tight as he stretched you out to the max. He wanted to go crazy, but he knew he needed you to adjust before doing so. 

Your body aching for more decides to meet him halfway, your ass coming into contact with his plastron in an instant, swallowing him whole. He was so big, and he knew it, too. Your loud moan after taking him all in caused Raph to hesitate. 

“Not too loud, pretty.” His hand then frees your arms, and almost immediately you clasp a hand onto your mouth, muffling all sounds you were making. Once Raph got into the swing, his wild side came out. Before he knew it, he was thrusting in and out of you at an animalistic speed. He was a rough lover, and you loved every second of it. His praises on how good you felt and how wet you were caused shivers throughout your body and mind. The sound of skin slapping against skin was enough for you to be in a trance. You could feel how his curved dick hit you in the right spot deep in your cavern, pressing against your G-spot. How his hands continuously guided your hips and ass to back up against his plastron, and he smirked as he observed you crumble beneath him. You were practically biting your lip to keep yourself from shrieking in pleasure. The last thing you needed was anyone knocking and destroying your high. 

“You’ve always wanted me, huh?” “Fuck, you’re so tight,” All of his remarks whispered into your ear as his hand moved toward your neck, choking you lightly. Your hands went over his own, begging for his grip to tighten. He stopped for a moment, then gave into your noiseless demand. 

“Didn’t take ya as a freak, Y/n,” He chuckles, watching you turn around to face him. If the sound wasn’t enough, your flushed, fucked-out face was enough to drive him wild. 

He was close, but he couldn’t finish like this. He needed to see all of you. He needed you facing him, tits bouncing with every thrust. His hand around your windpipe and your eyes rolling back into your skull. 

So as he unexpectedly stops, your legs begin to shake. “W-wha?” You strain your back, trying to get relief. It isn’t until Raph uses his strength to flip you over as if you weighed nothing that you knew what was about to happen. 

He wasn’t done, he was just getting started. 

“I wanna see ya beggin’ fa me, got it?” Raph grips his member, placing it in between your wet folds as he churrs, locking eyes with you to make sure you understood the assignment. 

“Y-yes.” You were hypnotized by Raph. How his girth was enough to stretch you out, and was long enough to hit places you didn’t think were possible. A smirk plays along his lips, and you feel his tip at your entrance once again. He leans in, lips crashing into yours before you feel him fill you up once more. Only this time, he was hitting your sweet spot even better. You felt yourself nearing the top of the hill, waiting for just the right thrust to send you over the top and back down again. 

“Tell me how much ya wanted me, baby,” You see Raph’s focused look as his hands gripped your cupped breasts, ripping them clean off before tossing them to the side. He plays with your hardened bud, alternating from the left and the right. 

“Shit.. a-a lot! I wanted this so bad, Raph~” Your sweet voice had created the music he wanted to hear, and you felt him slam into you harder. It wasn’t until his hand left your breasts and moved down to your swollen clit. Looking up at you, then back down at your sex, he gives you a smirk before getting to work. “Oh! Fuck, Raph!” His finger quickly flicking your clit like it was a bell, making it ring in ways that caused you to reach the top of the hill. 

“Fuck, please,” Your breathy moans became uneven, and your body came millimeters away from your well-needed orgasm, “Don’t fucking stop,” Your words became slurred and sloppy, and Raphael wouldn’t want to have it any other way. “You’re doing so good, Raph, fuck.” You were copping pleas, just like he wanted. Your sweet voice interrupted by unsolicited wonton moans caused Raph to fuck you like there was no tomorrow. He studies your face, and your half-lidded eyes watch as beads of sweat litter his emerald skin, the sweet sinful smell of sex filling the air as you finally come to your senses. “Think you could fill me up?” You had asked so innocently despite the obvious whine in your voice. You sounded so needy and sexy, that Raphael couldn’t hold it in any longer. All of his senses were being simulated, and the sight of you was the cherry on top. He had you exactly where he wanted you: crumbled, fucked-out face, rosy cheeks, and begging for him to cum.

You tightened around him, a wave of pure euphoria taking over you as you came to the squelching sound of you finishing all over Raph’s member. Your body shakes as he doesn’t stop, moments go by before he slows down, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. You lean up to lock lips, and his thrusts quicken before he groans huskily into the sloppy kiss. He had reached the top of his own hill, and he couldn’t wait to fill you up and paint your insides white. 

When he’s finally ready, he puts his forehead on yours, and you watch as he becomes weak at the knees, bucking his hips to meet your pelvis one last time before you feel something warm shoot through you. The thought of Raph’s cum filling you up alone caused you to moan in ecstasy, never mind the feeling of it.

Raph shifts his weight, holding himself up with his reserved strength. It wasn’t like he was finished. No, Raph’s libido was so high and mighty, this was just the pregame. 

“I kind of feel bad…” You trail off. You felt Raph’s cum leak from your pulsating cunt, pooling onto the floor under you. Droplets of sweat littered the hardwood, “We made a mess.” But before you could get up, Raph lets out a throaty chuckle, “Ya think so? We could do bettah than this.” His accented voice teases a new idea. Maybe he was right, you guys could make an even bigger mess.

The smell of sex wasn’t leaving the dojo anytime soon, and with the way you went uninterrupted for what seemed like hours, what made you think you’d be stopping here? You sit up on your knees, pushing Raphael back onto his shell. Straddling his waist, his member jumped in response. Once again, he was ready to give it to you. As he watched you grab it at the base and align it with your sex, cum still dripping from the previous activity, you sat down on it slowly until your pelvis met his own. 

It was your turn to fuck his brains out, and you were ready to do just that. 

// Taglist:

@fjfjdjd

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[ledgendweaver]

Hello, welcome to the Onryo Au!

This is my kinda rough synopsis and summary of the AU, both because the Masterpost is on hold till I either make a replacement banner, or Tech support gets back to me, and for @tmntaucompetition 2025

Questions, asks, art, reblogs are all welcome and wanted!

Synopsis: The Onryo AU is a cannon-divergent 2012 AU set years after the shows finale. It is partly inspired by Rise, other turtles media, and something else which can't reveal know for fear of spoiling the plot.

Only a few weeks after the boys 20th mutation day, they found themselves facing a monstrous undead Shredder, beyond anything they've ever seen. Only sealed away after Raphael's sacrifice, the family has slowly fallen apart in the years that followed, in their inability to save Raphael, or even know if hes still alive. The main meat of the story happens when the turtles are around 25, and Raph has been gone for five years. With one brother lost, and the family falling apart, new and old foe rise from the shadows, threatening to tear them apart for good. The tomb is empty, the seal broken, and the mysterious masked Onryo, an unnatural and twisted being has been tearing through the ninja clans that were gifted the pieces of Shredders armor. And as it slaughters and burns temples to the ground, seemingly unstoppable, with every piece it gathers it grows in power.

The timeline is broken in different eras, explored and shown in the "Pictures on the wall series" shown above. The linked compilation post also has poems for each post that adds more depth to them.

The Eras can be found on tags on posts, to help place them on the timeline. Kinda buggy, so not everything tagged pops up. Try searching by tag name rather than hashtag

-What Was Before- Cannon, it's divergence, up to the 20th mutation day. If they look young or happy, it's probably in here. -How it Happened- The "Incident" -What Came After- Everything between previous to main story. -Not Without You- Our main story

Images come from these plot relevant posts that hold designs and more tidbits: Raph Is Alone, The Future, Pictures On The Wall

Snapshots - Leo - The Onryo

comp stuff

There are more pieces and art on my account!

Despite the concept focusing on Raphael, I made very sure that every turtle gets their chance to shine, with plenty of development, attention, fights, and cool moments. From Nightwatcher Donnie, Mystic Warrior Leo, and Michelangelo who has his own thing going on, there is plenty to see. While the story is dark, bloody, deals with death, loss, and some gore, I can promise it has a happy ending!

[urinarythreatinfection]

Is This Love?

Luffy x Male Reader. Angst and fluff. I said slowburn but this is more average burn, my bad. 2235 words. Small allusion to Whole Cake Island. Part one, Part two, Part four

Desc: Sanji reminisces on his conversation with Luffy with you and then other stuff happens.

Sanji flicks at his lighter, finally lighting his cigarette and taking a breath as he looks onto the night sea. He’s on nightwatch. ‘Well, I was going to be awake in 2 hours anyway.’ He tells himself, considering he wakes up at 5am. ‘Wonder how Luffy’s holding up.’ He remembers that the captain was restless before, he hopes that wasn’t enough to make him fall asleep on duty. ‘I’ll check up on him.’ He turns and walks over to Luffy’s side of the ship, seeing the rubber man laying down on the Sunny’s head. ‘Is he seriously asleep!?’ The chef runs up to the head. “Luffy! Hey!” No answer, but when Sanji hops onto the figurehead to scold him he finds his friend with his eyes open. Awake, just… silent. “What’s up with you?” He’s confused.

“Sanji, can you-”

‘He’s going to ask me to make him something, isn't he.’ It clicks in Sanji’s mind, however..

“-tell me about romantic love.” it isn’t that at all. Sanji’s eyes widen and he almost chokes on his cigarette. Love? Romantic love? And this question is from Luffy!? “...Is this… about (Y/n)?” He asks cautiously and Luffy nods. That explains it. “So this is why you were restless.” He sighs, not knowing whether to be anxious or relieved that this is the reason his captain’s been acting off. “You don’t have to force yourself to learn about it, Luffy. (Y/n) isn’t the type of guy to need that out of you.” A cloud of smoke is let out into the night air. “He’s probably already moving on from it.” Instead of a hum or answer Sanji sees a frown on Luffy’s face. ‘What’s with that look?’

“He’s moving on so easy? He said he was in love with me, but he’s already getting over it?” There’s an upset tone in his voice.

“Why are you complaining about it?” Sanji’s confused, he knows Luffy to be bratty and selfish at times but like this? “Were you planning to just lead him on?” Luffy looks up at the chef.

“Lead him on?” He tilts his head.

“Yeah, string him along. Keep him always loving you even if you don’t feel the same, just because it makes you feel better about yourself. Not caring if it hurts them.” This is disappointing, he’d thought the rubber man’s selfishness would at least not harm his crewmate’s emotions like this. Even if he’s harsh to you due to your status as a man, Sanji still cares for you. However, Luffy scrambles to get up and latches onto the chef, gripping his shoulders.

“Is that what I’m doing!?” He’s panicked, freaking Sanji out a bit.

“If you don’t love someone and just use them to feel better that’s exactly what you’re doing.” Still, he answers. In response to that Luffy slowly lowers himself onto his feet, looking down.

“Using him… Hurting him.” That’s not.. what he wants at all, but he doesn’t want you to stop loving him either. Sanji looks down at his captain and realizes that his face is turning red. He’s using his brain too much.

“Hey you don’t have to think so hard about it.” It’s starting to worry him, what if he overheats or something? “Just don’t lead on someone you don’t love back.”

“But I do love him!” He shouts. “I just don’t know about the whole—in love thing. I don’t like that he doesn’t smile at me like before and that he doesn’t pick me up! He doesn’t even..” Luffy pauses, putting a hand on his head as he speaks in a quieter voice. “He doesn’t even pet my hair anymore. (Y/n) used to do it all the time but it’s been a week since he did it. Even when I did good stuff while keeping my hat off he doesn’t do anything.” The chef goes silent, Luffy eventually continuing. “He said all that stuff about loving me then just.. left me alone.” After a few moments Sanji reaches up and pets the captain’s hair, but the captain puts his straw hat on his head in response.

“Felt different?” The blonde asks and Luffy nods. “Then maybe (Y/n)’s different.” Sanji isn’t a love expert either, but he has felt romantic love before; and had his heart hurt because of it. “It feels different, love like that.”

“Is there something wrong… with me?” Luffy clutches the rim of his hat, stressed. He seems so small like this, so vulnerable with insecurity. It reminds Sanji of his own insecurities, and how this boy, so bright and carefree, accepted all of it. He can’t leave his friend, his captain like this. The blonde puts out his cigarette and takes a deep breath, speaking.

“I’m not going to stand here and pretend like you have no faults or that there’s nothing different about you. You rush into things, hate doing anything you find even a little boring, and do everything you can to empty our fridge. It’s annoying.” He thinks about their journey so far. “But you’ve been my captain and friend for over two years and I know for sure that your faults are a part of you; they don’t make you ‘wrong’. And if it does, then everyone on this ship is the same, because we’re here with you. Including (Y/n).” Sanji’s done bad things to Luffy, to the rest of the crew, and in his opinion he’s the one with the most faults; but Luffy accepted him. “You told me my faults make me who I am, that they’re somehow all the things good about me, so it’s the same for you. You rush in to help people, work hard on things that you love,” The chef looks away. “and, well, in a way breaking into the fridge has made the crew smarter about safety.” He says with a sigh before looking back at the smaller man. “So if you insult yourself like this then you’re insulting all of us, Captain.” Luffy looks up at Sanji, eyes twinkling with the light inside him that had been clouded with insecurity.

____________________

“DID HE CRY!? WAS HE CRYING!?” You grip onto Sanji’s shoulders, shaking him before getting a hard kick to the stomach and falling to your knees.

“Calm down.” The chef says, annoyed. “No, he didn’t cry.” Despite the pain in your gut, that gives you solstice. “He went silent for a bit before smiling and almost suffocating me with a hug.”

“I still made him stressed, though…” Horrible, bad friend, bad crewmate.

“Stop focusing on only that part. I told you this because of what he said, what he did. Luffy is acting differently not because he thinks you’re some sort of creep that confessed to him. It’s because you’re different to him, yet left him alone.” He puts a foot on your head, talking through gritted teeth “You should know by now that leaving him alone is the worst thing you could do to him. He already hates it when anyone does it but now you do it?” It stings but not as much as your mistake.

“I didn’t know I was acting that different, I was just trying to get my mind off of it and let him forget about it too.” The faster you moved on the faster things could go back to normal. You sigh, you can’t believe you’re getting emotional advice from Sanji. He takes his foot off of your head and you stand up. Still, even if you’re different to Luffy it doesn’t mean it’s necessarily love. It could just be a special care, but that could be Luffy’s form of love. Sigh, maybe you’re just making things too complicated. You just don’t want to force him into something he doesn’t feel, making him confuse his platonic feelings for romantic ones because you gain from it. You’re not underestimating him enough to think of him as some sort of clueless baby, he’s got emotional maturity, but the things that Luffy doesn’t know about he really doesn’t know about. You have this knowledge now, about how he feels, but what now? You don’t want to force him, accidentally or not, but you also don’t know if you can just pretend you didn’t hear this. Especially when you know now how stressed it made your captain and love.

“Did you already move on?” You break from your thoughts at the sound of Sanji’s voice.

“No.. I’ve been trying to but I’ve just gotten more used to keeping myself calm around him, trying to be as platonic as I can.” However much you can be with Luffy, anyway. He’s always touchy but trying to endure that adorable behavior is too much for you to handle right now. “Thanks, Sanji.”

“You’re welcome,” He smiles. “I’ll put away the dishes so go think or something.” It immediately fades as the chef puts out his cigarette and makes a shooing motion before turning to the dishes.

‘I’m different, huh?’ You think to yourself as you leave the kitchen. While pondering you spot Luffy and Usopp fishing. On cue, the rubber man moves his hat from on his head to resting around his neck. It reminds you of what Sanji told you, about Luffy keeping his hair uncovered so you can pet it. He must’ve used his haki to check if it was you when he heard the door open. You walk over and Luffy not-so-subtly pushes his bucket of fish where you can see. Usopp, in return, pulls his bucket to be more hidden so you focus on his friend’s. What a bro. You know how he feels now, but you still end up nervous. “Nice catches, Luf.” When you speak he perks up, then looks back at you with shiny eyes. You talked to him!

“They’ll be tasty too!” He says proudly, though he looks strangely tense. You hesitate for a moment before reaching your hand down and petting the rubber man’s head. His eyes sparkle and his smile brightens as he lets out a happy “shi shi shi”, his body untensing. He doesn’t pull away, look uncomfortable, or stare at you weird. You didn’t mess up. You continue to pet him for an unknown amount of time, the both of you relishing in the feeling, before his line starts to move, pulling so hard he almost falls over the railing. You catch him by the back of his shirt, allowing him to plant his feet on the ground and start pulling.

“How huge is this thing!?” Usopp yells as he tries to help Luffy but is stopped.

“I don’t need help, I can do this!” The rubber man tells him, determined as he pulls harder. The fish struggles and struggles but is pulled up and forced out of the sea. It’s giant! The shadow looms over all over you before it flops hard onto the ship’s deck, flopping around before Luffy punches it in the head, finishing off his big catch. The star fisherman hops up onto the fish and yells with his arms in the air. “I dedicate this catch to (Y/n)!”

“To—To me!?” You point at yourself while Luffy laughs, music to your ears. This is why he was trying so hard, why he was determined to do it on his own. It was all for you. His eyes meet yours, bright and joyful as your heart thumps out of your chest. Is he courting you!? Is this courting!?

“I don’t think (Y/n) can eat all of this before it goes bad.” Chopper points out with a hoof on the fish’s scales. Sanji comes out of the kitchen and spots the fish.

“That was the rocking, I’ll have to get working on this.” He says while studying the new ingredient, but the captain shakes his head.

“I’ll do it.” He states, still determined.

“As if! You’d ruin the whole thing!”

“But I caught it for (Y/n)!” Luffy whines and Sanji looks at you.

“For him?” He puts together what’s going on and sighs. “Idiot, how do you expect him to eat it if you make it inedible. Just let me cook it.”

“No! I’ll do it!” He really isn’t relenting.

“Luffy I can’t eat this whole thing, and Sanji can cook it for everyone.” The captain still pouts. “I’ll eat most of it,” You climb up onto the fish and reach your arms out, pulling Luffy into a hug and his eyes widen. “Thank you for catching it for me, I love it.” The captain’s eyes widen and something starts to happen, his face gets hot and he can feel his heart thumping. When you pull away to talk to Sanji about the catch he still feels weird.

“???” “?” He’s dizzy, looking at his hands while confusion fills his head. What’s going on? Did pulling the fish make him tired?? Is it poisonous? But neither Sanji nor Chopper said anything about it. Weird weird weird! You feel a rush of wind as Luffy runs past you, bursting into the ship and past Robin who notices his red face before he’s gone.

“Oh my.” She says with a giggle as she walks out onto the deck.

“Whuh?” You stand there confused. Did he have to piss or something? Robin looks at you, a knowing smile on her face. It seems she doesn’t have to worry so much after all.

There you go chat, pretty gangster right? I was p stumped on it at first after getting the Sanji part done but then got some spark and kept writing. The captain's cute, right? Leave a comment about how adorable the Lufster is if you agree.

Next

[oozedninjas]

Snap call

Summary: You send him nudes while he is on patrol, and Raph isn't quite happy about it.

A/N: I've been working on this for a couple of days! Hope you like it :) To that person who's been asking for Nightwatcher smut, wink, wink

Warnings: 18+ /NDNI / Breeding / sending nudes / Nightwatcher!Raph / Raph is around his early 30's / super brief ass-eating / dirty talking/dom!Raph

It is past midnight when he slips through the narrow window of your apartment’s room, still wearing his vigilante armor. His labored breaths rumble within the helmet, delivering them with a metallic tint that makes you tingle.

"Do you think you're funny, sending dirty pics all night while I'm on patrol?" He says, his voice raw as he approaches. It only takes him a few swift strides to stand beside you. The metallic clang of his boots on the floor sends a shiver down your spine, building anticipation. “Strip, now.”

A grin threatens to arise at the sight of him in this state, burning for you, but you bite it back, ditching the thin fabric of your pajamas in a heartbeat. The moment the last strand of clothing falls off your body, Raphael grips your arms, forcing you to turn around, back to his front. He closes the space between you. The icy metal of the Nightwatcher’s armor to your bare skin makes you gasp.

The cool of his gloves scrapes against your heated skin as his palms trail a path from your shoulders to your arms to dance lower, dipping across your abdomen and up from there. His grip tightened around your breasts. You catch your breath. 

Expert fingers pinch your nipples, pulling, rolling them just enough for a soft moan to leave your lips. Raphael growls, enjoying the sound. His voice echoes through the metal helmet.

"Look at my little whore, too desperate to have me filling you up that you can't even wait for me to finish patrol?" he teases, as he keeps playing with them.

"I've been wanting this the whole evening..." you mutter, voice trembling.

"And you're not even sorry! Fucking cheeky of you," he chuckles, it's dark and sexy. "Let's fix that."

Raphael lifts the helmet from his head, placing it carefully on the bedside table. Under the room's dim illumination, the metal surface becomes a hazy, distorted mirror. He pushes you to the bed, barely giving you time to adjust on all fours before he licks a strip from your cunt to your ass. Your mouth gapes, and a whine puffs off.

"Mmm, so fucking tasty," 

His voice makes your blood run hot. Raphael sinks his face into you with not even a hint of shame as he starts fucking you with his tongue, wet and warm, impossibly soft against your pussy. He'd slide it over your clit from time to time, granting it the tiniest of attention.

You whine, pushing yourself to him, but Raph bites the inside of your thigh adequately hard to make you yelp. His hand fists your hair, pulling just enough to tingle your scalp. "Don't be greedy," he murmurs in your ear from behind. You can make out the scene of the reflection on the helmet.

 "Tell me, what do you want?"

His hot breath tickles your ear. Everything he'd just done left your pussy a complete mess. You could feel the dampness dripping. God, you wanted him to fuck you stupid, nothing more. But the fear of another bite from a direct answer keeps your lips sealed.

"What’s the matter? Can't my doll think straight?" Raphael says, pushing a metal finger inside your cunt, dreadfully slow. 

"Please— " your voice weak and desperate.

He smirks. "Yeah, that's more like it. But, please what?" he says, rubbing the tip of his finger on that sweet spot inside as he keeps you still by the hair. "Please stop?" 

"No!" it came out so desperate you cringed. His soft chuckle soothed you a bit. "Please fuck me," 

He withdraws, emptying you. You want to jerk back to chase the delicious feeling of being full, but he halts you. 

"Yeah? How bad do you want it?" 

"Very— please," you whisper. His grip on your hair burns so fine, "Please, I'll be good... I'll be good."

"Fuck yes, you will," Raphael says, thrusting inside in one motion. It janks your breath off. He reaches deep, just the right spot. You can't help the lewd moan that follows.

"Look at that drunk-like smile," he tells you, letting go of your hair as he brings you up to embrace you against him. This shift has you on your knees, back resisting against his torso. The cold armor soothes the fire of your skin. Raph holds your face toward the reflection on the helmet, forcing you to watch your blissful expression. "You're such a good little slut for me. Gonna make you feel good, you want that?" 

"Yes," you breathe, desperately holding his hands where they rest over your body,  clenching and unclenching around his shaft.

He mutters praise in your ear, but you can't make it out as he starts pounding in and out, rhythmically, building a pace that makes your head fall back, mouth gaping while loud moans along with the filth of skin slapping fill the air.

He curses under his breath, you're tight, he says. You feel good, he's going crazy. "Touch yourself, let me see you," Raph takes your hand to drive it down to your front. You reach your clit, not losing detail of his dark gaze reflecting on the helmet, absorbing the whole scene.

It takes you a few seconds to pair his thrust with the circles over your soft nub, but once you do, it feels fucking heavenly. You make it last for as long as you can, right there where pleasure lingers strongly right before the peak. Your orgasm crashes over you, numbing everything. 

"Fuck, yes, just like that- t- that's a good fucking girl," 

The pulsations of your high around his cock trigger his own, and he comes loud and long. The hot loads filling you up weaken your knees.

He holds your ground before gently placing you on the mattress, allowing his weight over you as he rests. 

"Remind me to send you nudes more often," you say, once you catch your breath.

A raspy laugh pours into your ear, tickling. 

[cosmerelists]

Randomly Assembled Cosmere Roommates: How Will They Fare?

[Note: This post contains major WAT spoilers!]

@truthwatcherblog created a poll (which should still be going on, if I've gotten my dates right?) wherein you spin a picker wheel to randomly assign yourself three Stormlight roommates. With OP's permission, I'm going to use their picker wheel not to give myself roommates, but to create trios of Stormlight characters who now must room together. Let's see how it goes!

[I faithfully adhered to the picker wheel except for skipping repeats. Lin Davar came up THREE times!]

1. Lopen, the Nightwatcher, Cord

The Nightwatcher would stay holed up in her room all day, leaving mostly just Lopen & Cord, who did travel together during Dawnshard...a story in which we learned that Lopen has a huge crush on Cord. Hopefully they'd sort that out pretty quick so that it doesn't turn into a Wayne/Ranette situation. 

Cord: And this is my girlfriend, Rysn. Lopen: Well okay, but I'm not gonna stop trying to impress you with my jokes and manly ways! Cord: ...To try to win me over? Lopen: No, I mostly just like making people laugh and and I like being complimented. For my manly ways. Cord: I can live with that. Nightwatcher: [Through the closed door and the ten million blankets that she shrouds herself in] Can someone please bring me ice cream? 

2. Moash, Lin Davar [Shallan's dad], Syl

[sing-song voice] Someone is getting muuuurdered!

Lin: Are you stupid as well as blind, dark-eyes? I SAID to pour me wine! Moash: [already drawing his sword] Syl: In this house, we stan some extrajudicial killings. 

3. Lezian, Masha-daughter-Shaliv [Szeth's wife], Maya

This household is never at peace.

Lezian: I CAN'T do the dishes, I'm busy STALKING and KILLING people! Maya: [arms folded] A good soldier doesn't shy away from unglamorous work. Maya: You can be a "killing slut" later. Lezian: STOP CALLING ME THAT Masha (busy writing): Hey guys, what's a synonym for "bald"?

4. Skar, Rock, Kmakl [Queen Fen's husband]

It all works out great once they set some boundaries.

Skar: No more sex with your wife in the living room without warning us first. Kmarkl: Fiiiiine. Skar: We all love your stew, Rock, but sometimes other people want to use the big pot, too. Rock: Fair enough, fair enough! Rock: And you, Skar, need to stop throwing our stuff out the window just because we leave them lying around! Kmarkl: I couldn't find my lucky socks for two weeks! Skar: ... Skar: Wow, living together really is about compromise. 

5. Roshone, Huio, Taravangian

Mostly, I feel sorry for Huio.

Roshone: Can't believe my wife kicked me out. Can't belive I have to have roommates. Taravangian: Nobody go into the basement, okay? I'm using it to store my...stuff. Roshone: Why does your "stuff" require so much sound-proofing, anyway? Taravangian: It's, uh, a playroom for my...noisy grandchildren? Roshone: Sure, that feels right. Huio: [in the kitchen making soup] Huio: (muttering to himself in Herdazian): I'm NEVER telling them I can understand Alethi. 

6. Szeth, Rlain, Drehy

This is going to be SO good for Szeth's mental health! Drehy's gonna be working overtime helping both of his roommates, though.

Rlain: So, uh... Drehy: Yes, you may ask me all of your "gay" questions. Rlain: I really appreciate that! Szeth: Kaladin says that I must "ask other people" if I have a thought that "does not quite seem right." Szeth: I pose this to you both: if you burn a dinner you were really looking forward to, is death the answer? Rlain: No! Drehy: I'll order pizza.

7. Gezamal [Yanagawn's guard], Ishnah [Lightweaver], Testament [dead-eyed cryptic]

Testament is really the glue that holds this household together.

Gezamal: Ishnah, let's have dinner together tonight and talk. Ishnah: What, why? Gezamal: Testament and I share a bond since she is a dead-eye and I am Unoathed. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: You and Testament share a bond because you are a Ligthweaver and she is a Cryptic. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: For household solidarity, you and I should now figure out what we have in common. Ishnah: ...What's that big book you have? Gezamal: I pre-drafted a list of things we might have in common. Gezamal: For example, as a member of the Unseen Court, were you ever punished with lavatory duty? That happened to me once. Ishnah: Oh, this conversation is gonna be rough.

8. Elid [Szeth's sister], Kalak [herald], Wyndle

Kalak, scared as he is of humans, much prefers one of his two roommates...

Wyndle: Oh, I'm so glad you like this! "How It's Made" is one of my FAVORITE shows, but the  mistress says it's "boring." Kalak: It's great! I've never felt so calm! Elid: Yo, what are we watching? Kalak: Eep! Elid: ... Elid: The Almighty Herald is hiding behind a cushion again, huh? Wyndle: I-I'm sure he doesn't mean to offend you!

9. Wit, Aladar [highprince], Renarin

It's like Christmas came early for Wit--he likes to make fun of both of them!

Wit: [eyes glinting] Aladar: W-We should make an alliance now, Renarin! Aladar: Together we can stand up even to this man! Renarin: Oh,  uh... Renarin: I actually already made an alliance with Wit this morning, when he asked. Aladar: NOOOOO

10. Abidi the Monarch, the Thrill, Tanavast

Okay, I'm sure your mind went immediately to "sheer destruction," but what if...?

Tanavast: Abidi! It's YOUR turn to walk the Thrill! The Thrill: [bouncing excitedly at the word "walk"] Abidi: Not now, you fool! There are people being wrong on the internet, and I must bathe in their blood! [sitcom laugh track] Abidi: And I keep telling you to call me Abidi the Monarch! Tanavast (muttering): More like Abidi the Moron. The Thrill: Arf! Arft! [sitcom laugh track] [Theme song starts playing, revealing the sitcom title: 3 Old Gods]

[just-some-user-hunny]

More cha hyun su headcanons...

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

~ just thinking of touch-starved hyun su :(

He's far too hesitant and shy to take the initiative, his painful past having moulded him like clay into a lonely and reserved person who keeps to themselves. Hyun su doesn't ask for help, he doesn't search for guiding hands or soothing words, because all he's known is that it won't be there. They are not options.

Until he met you.

You'll have to be gentle when initiating things. Every touch and embrace will have to be softly approached, giving him freedom and wiggle room to move away or reject if he so pleases- but the moment you offer him a hug, he's looking at you softly and inquisitively, before hesitatanly shuffling into your embrace. You'll feel the tall man immediately slump into you, almost pleadingly.

He's ached for this for so long, and he can't let you go so easily. Please don't let him go so easily.

~ sticking your hand through the gated door that separates the isolation room as you take the nightwatch so you can be with him, and just gently embraces your hand with his and holds it firmly as he looks at you softly :(

He's hurt, and there is very little you can offer other than comfort- which he'll hesitate to take, but will take nonetheless. Uttering a soft mumbled thanks, his body sore but his mind finally at ease.

You watch as Hyun-su allows his eyes to close tiredly and rest his head against the gate, and you do the same so that your heads are briefly leant together. To your relief, he sleeps soundly now, but it pains you to leave from your shift as he unconsciously holds onto your hand as you attempt to move :( a soft pained sound leaving him as you slip your hand from his eventually, and all you can do is watch sadly as he grasps at nothing and his expression stirs.

~ ok but him always trying to sit with you at mealtimes. Regardless if it's at the table or the floor, you'll have this soft-spoken man practically glued to your hip. He'll also try and sneak more of his food into your portion, but with a soft wack of a spoon against his, he'll jump a little and look at you bashfully- looking away in embarrassment when you lightly scold him. If you don't, this man will end up feeding you everything on his plate 💀

~ if you ever need to reach something, he's your guy. The moment he notices you struggling to grab something from a high shelf, he's immediately at your side and reaching for whatever you need. He's so sweet when he does it as well :( softly mumbling if he's got the right thing, and noticeably perking up when you nod happily and thank him.

~ often the deep pit of loneliness will creep back and clutch its claws into him again, and Hyun Su will fall silent and reclusive again- like a door closing in your face, or a webcam shutting off. He will inevitably fall into the pattern of isolation, so please be patient and offer your attention and care for him.

Just sit with him when he slumps alone in a corner somewhere, watching you converse with the other survivors with insecurity and sadness I'm his expression- his head and hands slumped in his lap like a weightless puppet. He hates feeling this way. He despises it. This voice that creeps into his mind and hisses poison like a snake, and at this point he's not sure if it's his depression or the monster that dwells inside him anymore. All he knows is that it is there. It's inside him, and he's snatched tightly in its grip.

The moment you settle close against his side eventually snaps him out of it, and he only realises the trickle of blood dribbling down his face is when you dab lightly at his upper lip with a tissue.

"it's alright, you're ok" you hush softly to him, turning your body to face him as he anxiously swallows and nods.

The warmth of your hand eclipsing his palm draws him back to you, and with a staggering breath he settles himself. The inky blackness in his eyes dispel, and what's left is his dark doe eyes.

"Th-...thank you..." you barely hear him above the distant clatter of voices in the distance, but the way he looks at you hesitantly before squeezing your hand back is all you need to know he's grateful :(

~ Initially, he's very against himself falling for you. You spark all these warm safe feelings in him and it admittedly frightens him a little- he was ready to end his life not too long ago with nothing to change his mind, but now you've wiggled your way into his heart and mind and he's scared of getting hurt if it were somehow a whole ploy or trick.

However, over time, your genuine kindness slowly warms him up to you. He goes from brief hesitant glances towards you, to holding your hand as he idles close to your side like a second shadow.

~ he's very doting whenever you're frightened or hurt. He'll try his best to make you comfortable and safe, and keep as close as he can if that makes you feel at ease.

(Perhaps he finds you struggling to sleep because you keep having nightmares of the monsters, and he's off to grab you another blanket because you're shivering but is held back by you grabbing his hand and uttering a small plea for him to stay :(

He gets so overwhelmed by that simple little word, and just slumps by your side as you hide into him- his hand gently petting your back as you doze off, and all he can think of is you asking him to stay :( all I can say is good luck trying to get him off your back after that, he's going to be hovering and doting either close-up or far away.

[thaltro]

Hi I recently came across your nightwatch au, and I just wanted to say I love all of their designs and your art is so cool, your rendering is fantastic by the way.

Anyhow, I was wondering if your nightwatch au was justing posted about here, or if you are writing a fic or comic of any kind?

No it’s going to be a comic and I’ve been working on it forever.

My main issue is finishing commissions but after I’m done a few more I’m going to push through it. Also my art takes awhile but yes.

It’s no traditional comic it’s more like a picture book with text. But I’ll post it here and probably on other platforms.

Planning on doing a cringey self comic dub on YouTube so it’s accessible for the iPad artists who listen while they draw.

Im posting it here, probably on Ao3 and I’ll try to make an external website I can link to my TikTok and twitter.

I’m surprised people are interested in reading it by the pictures alone. I really like getting asks about the lore and people saying they are “nightwatch fans”. It’s sweet getting asks like this so thank you

[nevertheless-moving]

unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.

Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.

and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.

(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)

Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self. 

Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.

The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?

Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!

Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and— 

Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—

You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...

What—when did you lose—

I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...

So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.

And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.

When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.

Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.

It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.

Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.

Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??

the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.

Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.

FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?

“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.

Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)

And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.

Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic,  being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.

Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life. 

Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.

Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.

Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.

It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal. 

Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.

What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.

I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.

So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.

Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.

Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—

well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—

and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?

i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”

Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).

But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.

Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.

And then the partners change again, the moment ended.

Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.

Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.

Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.

Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.

needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.

Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.

Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )

Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?

And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?

Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer

[pooks]

there is something funny about Ichiji remaining with the Straw Hats, after Ace leaves him in Luffy's care and sets off to chase Blackbeard (now with a clear conscience that his husband won't get hurt)

first of all, Sanji and Ichiji needed to clear the tension between them and it took a while to get enough privacy for them to talk. there were a lot of tears (angry tears in Sanji's case and remorseful tears for Ichiji) involved. there's too much trauma to be resolved, but they both acknowledge that they're victims, in one way or another. both of them cry tears of joy when they embrace each other for the first time as brothers.

Luffy is ridiculously clingy and happy about Ichiji, and Sanji by proxy, being officially part of his family. Ichiji has a calmer temper than Sanji and just takes it in stride. after a while, he gets used to Luffy wrapping long rubber arms around him and it's somehow comfortable, it makes him feel safe. he also yells Ichiji's pirate name every single hour. Ichiji just sits and watches his latest antics with amusement. he absolutely didn't try when Luffy pushed his straw hat on his head (yes, he did. zoro, nami, usopp and chopper are witnesses. he's never been happier.)

Zoro wasn't really suspicious of him, he just found the dynamic between the cook and his older brother...odd and tense, compared to Luffy and Ace's open, cheerful bond. Ichiji confided in him, during a nightwatch, that he hasn't been a good older brother to Sanji and he wishes to atone for past sins. since he hasn't given Zoro any reason to doubt his words, he just accepts it. doesn't stop Ichiji from teasing Zoro a little since he is NOT subtle whenever he stares at Sanji's behind.

Nami has tried to swindle money from Ichiji, that's how she welcomes him. it didn't work because Ichiji is always a step ahead and managed to swindle Nami. he gave the money back, cause it could be put to better use (aka food for the crew). otherwise, they get along just fine. he is the only man allowed in Nami's room because he is a married man and he's gay. (she practice braiding on his hair, so she can do make perfect braids on Vivi's hair).

Usopp finds another big brother figure in Ichiji, probably more than in Zoro or Sanji. Ichiji is actually the one who tells him that it's okay to be afraid in dangerous situations, because if there is no fear, then there's no courage because courage only exists in spite of fear. he doesn't always believe all Usopp's tall tales, but appreciates his storytelling. he's the first one Ichiji tells about his dream; to write the true chronicles of the next pirate king. they bond a lot over this, being artistic souls.

Chopper sees him as a cool big brother figure, but in the calm and collected way (Zoro is the strong, invincible one while Sanji is kind, nurturing one). someone who always has a plan...with at least two backup plans. Ichiji likes Chopper in turn, finding him cute and takes this as a chance to feel like an actual big brother.

and now, post-alabasta

Robin finds Ichiji just as interesting as Sanji. Ichiji's trust was very hard earned, since he was just as suspicious as Zoro. when Robin detects his North Blue accent and correctly assumes that he and Sanji hails from there, Ichiji successfully evades any further questioning by pointing out that he recognizes a South Blue accent in her voice. and that's just the end of the discussion. both of them has pasts they don't want to talk about and respects each other's boundaries. it's not until Enies Lobby that Robin understands how far Ichiji will go for the sake of friendship (he would murder and dismantle world government, if she asked)

Ichiji was hard to win for Franky. Ichiji was pissed af during Water 7. he was civil, but cold during Enies Lobby. after they left, Ichiji got accidently triggered when Franky talked about how "super" his overpowered abilities (like Sparking Red) was and nearly lashed out. he let it slip out that he was an unwilling subject for human experimentation. they did bury the hatchet after that, especially when Franky bawled about it and Ichiji just awkwardly patted his shoulder. he found it odd that he took it more personally than what he did.

Ichiji is a bit unphased about Brook, a living skeleton is hardly the oddest thing he's seen in the grand line. after Thriller Bark, Ichiji always thinks of Ace and Brook is a good confidante to speak to. he often accompany Brook whenever he plays violin or piano, both of them create a couple of new songs which Ichiji sings (he has a very beautiful song voice).

bonus:

Vivi did eventually figure out Ichiji's original identity (and by default, Sanji), but it's a secret kept between her and Ichiji. both of them understand what will happen if the secret gets out and it will put not only Ichiji's life in danger, but also Sanji's. not to mention that they have already met once before.

(context: Germa, as a recognized kingdom by WG, attended the same Reverie when child!Vivi encountered Wapol. only Ichiji was allowed to accompany Judge since he was his heir)

[alicesivory]

Old Habits Die Hard [4/13]

Previous Chapter // Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: ex-Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond

WC: 3370

Summary: Aemond ventures beyond the Wall.

“Your hair looks nicer when it’s braided now.”

It seemed that the she-wildling could not keep her mouth shut. Rolling his eyes, Aemond changed the subject quickly, “How long ‘til we reach your people’s camp?” Aemond asked. “Just keep the horse in a steady pace up ahead and we’ll reach them in no time,” she answered him whilst comfortably sitting in front of him, between his arms that held the reins of the stallion. The reins were relaxed, and the stallion responded effortlessly to his light guidance through the cold and dark forest. The forest stands in eerie silence, its dense canopy casting a perpetual twilight over the twisted, gnarled trees. Shadows dance menacingly across the forest floor, where fallen leaves and branches lie in disarray, as if disturbed by some unseen force. The trees themselves seem alive, their bark scarred and contorted into grotesque shapes, carrying with it the faintest whisper of forgotten secrets, and the occasional creak or groan of the wood echoes through the stillness, adding to the sense of foreboding. 

No wonder they call this the haunted forest. 

“What lies in these woods?” Aemond asked once again. “Wild animals, mostly. But we don’t really hunt at night. It's a bad omen,” she replied. “Sometimes we see them at night, that’s where they emerge.” Her words made Aemond wonder, “Who do you speak of?”

“What do you think the walls were made for?”

Aemond thought for a moment. 

“To keep your kind away from entering the realm,” he said, hesitantly. Not quite confident with his answer. For he knew that the wall’s purpose was more than just keeping a few wildlings out of Westeros but, he does not know what. “It wasn’t even built because of us. My people were separated from yours because we were unlucky enough to live beyond the wall when it was built,” she explained. “It was the others that they were afraid of.”

“Others? Other tribes?”

“No. The undead.”

Chills ran down from Aemond’s spine.

The White Walkers. 

He has read countless books about the white walkers and the long night. How the battle for the dawn unfolded, yet all he knew was that it was all a myth. A fairytale. Stories to scare your child so they would sleep for the night. He recalled how the White Walkers were first written and mentioned during the Age of Heroes. Born of powerful and untested magic, they were created to protect the Children of the Forest during their war with the First Men. What once used to be puppets and soldiers for the Children of the Forest, the magic within the white walkers took a turn and rebelled against their creators and brought nothing but destruction to the realm. 

“But they were nothing but old stories. Fiction, even,” Aemond protested. 

“They are far from fiction, snow-hair.” 

The wildling looked back to him, surprisingly close since they were cramped at horseback. 

“What did they call you back there? I couldn’t recall. Was it Almond?”

“Aemond,” he grunts. 

She chuckled, “I like snow-hair better.”

“And what of you?” Slowly speaking her name which seemed foreign to his tongue. 

“Close enough,” she shrugged with a smirk, looking back into the road. Aemond wondered once again of the undead she mentioned. Were they lurking behind the old trees of this very forest? Were their lives at stake when they stepped their foot to this forest. “They took my brother,” she said, capturing Aemond’s attention. “The undead?” She nodded at his question. “He seemed to forget about time that day. But what kind of child remembers time, really? They wanted to play all day. So he did, running inside the woods without me or my mother’s attention, wanting to become a great hunter who enters the forest with no fear like my father. And he never came back.” 

He felt sorry for the girl, for he himself had felt the same kind of grief when he heard of Aegon’s death. Especially when they could’ve done something to prevent their deaths. “Sometimes I wonder if they buried him at all. If they did, I wonder where they buried him,” she said, spacing off into the distance. “There is no sympathy from the dead. Nor do they care for the living,” he said to her. “I know. But I’d like to think they did. He was just a child.” 

The whole ride quickly became gloomy and sour as the pair battled their grief as bad memories and remorse overcome their thoughts. “Does that stop you from hunting in the forest?” Aemond asked, trying to bring peace to her. “No, not really. I think I became eager to hunt here. Maybe one day I can find him well and just…cleverly hiding between trees,” she said with a bitter chuckle, sensing her denial of her brother’s disappearance. A sense of protectiveness washed over Aemond, knowing what it felt like to see light in the midst of darkness. Denying the truth to comfort yourself. He knew of that feeling. 

“Maybe one day you would. One day.”

Crack. Swish. 

“What was that?” 

Crack. Crack. Crack. 

“A wild beast?” Aemond asked. 

A figure emerging slowly behind the tree as they pass. “That is no beast,” the wildling alarmingly said, taking over the reins and snapped it making their horse gallop through the dark forest. “I would’ve preferred it to be a wild beast so we can take it home, yet you and I know that is no beast, snow hair,” she spoke as the harsh winds of the north hits their faces. Aemond looked back, seeing two..three...four figures catching up onto them. 

“How do we escape them?” He asked. 

“Hold on tight.” 

She took a turn in a swift motion, galloping off the road going between trees. In hopes for them to stop gaining on them. The wildling kept snapping the reins ordering the horse to go faster with only the moon being their source of light. “C’mon…c’mon…,” he heard her grunting as she took a glance behind and saw some still following their tracks. Galloping between trees, their horse finally took them to safety at the edge of the forest, to a clear opening. 

Making Aemond have a clear vision of the undead. 

Their skins were pale, almost blue. 

They look like humans yet they were not at the same time. 

The creatures frightened him more than anything else, but as they neared the edge of the forest, the White Walkers ceased their pursuit and vanished behind the trees. Aemond exhaled deeply, relieved that they had escaped the forest unharmed. Suddenly the horse neighed, abruptly stopping. Making both of them grunt in pain when they nearly fell. “What’s wrong?” The wildling asked the horse before an arrow striked a tree behind them. They looked around, trying to find any signs of life. 

“What are you doing?” Aemond hissed when she stepped down from the horse. “Where’s my dagger?” She whispered, ignoring his previous question. Aemond sighed, tossing her the dagger beneath his black cloak. Catching it with ease, she spoke into the air,

“It’s only me! Gruff? Yuri?” Aemond was curious about those people she called out. Were they one of her people? Who were they?

“Blimey kid, you scared the shit out of us!” 

A loud booming voice suddenly said, emerging from the snowy ecosystem. Their thick fur coats also seemed to be efficient for camouflage. Aemond saw how his peculiar she wildling smiled brightly when she spotted her friend, running towards the tall red haired man giving him a tight hug making them both laugh as he picked her up in his arms. 

Aemond rolled his eye.

“Thought you were gone for! We saw those creepy dead people- thank the gods!” The red haired wildling said, ruffling her hair. “Oww! No! Do you think that low of me, old man?!” She asked with a laugh, shoving the man away from her. “Oi, I'm not that old, young lady.” Locking her head once again with his arm. “Yuri! Look who just came back from the dead!” The red haired shouted, now another wildling emerged from the opening. His hair was blonde, almost as light as the hair of the Lannisters. “We really thought you were dead, kid,” Yuri said, patting her shoulder. 

Who were they? Why were they awfully close with her? 

From what he witnessed, a young woman could only interact like this with the opposite gender if they were siblings or wedded. Even he never saw any of his wedded acquaintances interacting this way. Were they her siblings? They don’t seem to resemble one another, were they bastards? Did they came from different mothers?

Aemond cleared his throat, stepping down from his horse, interrupting their reunion. 

“Ah yes- Gruff, Yuri, this is ehm..Aemond Targaryen. The man that I spoke of to the both of you,” she said. The red haired, who was named Gruff looked Aemond from head to toe. “Gruff and Yuri are my hunting friends. We’ve been hunting together since we were children and fun fact, we have the same grandsire.”

Gruff slowly approached the one eyed prine, keeping an eye on him. Aemond straightened his back to appear taller, gripping the handle of his sword, preparing himself. Once Gruff stopped in front of him, their noses bumping into each other, he spoke, 

“Did your mum fucked a snowman?”

“I beg your pardon–,” Aemond stepped closer, ready to draw his sword out.

“–Alright that’s enough!” She quickly stepped between the two men. “What Gruff was trying to say was, how is your hair silver?” She asked. "My father, my grandsire, my great-grandsire—all of them had silver hair," Aemond hissed, his gaze fixed on the red-haired wildling. "How did they end up with silver hair?" the red-haired wildling asked, crossing his arms. Aemond couldn't believe how absurd this conversation had become. Frustrated, he let his hands drop. "We're from old Valyria," Aemond explained with resignation. "It's simply a trait we have—silver hair is just part of who we are."

“Valyria? What’s that?” The blonde wildling asked curiously. “It's a place far from the north, Yuri– Now come on! We must bring him to the Chief.” Walking past them, she held the horse’s reins and started walking ahead. Gruff purposely bumped Aemond’s shoulder as he passed through the one eyed prince. Aemond rolled his eyes again, resigned to the childish behavior of these people, before catching up and walking alongside her. Compared to the two wildlings, he found her more tolerable. At least she didn’t ask pointless questions.s. “I have told our Chief about you,” she said. “I am sure he will take it easy on you,” she said.

 “Does he takes it easy with anyone else?”

“No, not really. He’s quite rude if you ask me.”

“As rude as your friend there?” Aemond chuckled bitterly.

“You’re in for a ride,” she chuckled, patting Aemond’s shoulder. 

As much as Aemond would like to worry, he could not as he knew that she was the one who brought him to her people. For her people needed him, not the other way around. He hoped that this agreement would be the means for her to fulfill her promise and return him to Westeros once and for all. Additionally, he couldn’t help but notice her diminutive stature compared to his own—she barely reached his shoulder, smaller than any lady from Westeros yet possessing a fierceness and demeanor that defied conventional femininity. A smirk tugged at his lips.. 

And there he saw it. In the vast expanse of snow-covered terrain, a tribe lives a nomadic life, their existence marked by resilience and adaptability. Their tents, typically made of sturdy animal hides or woven materials, scattered across the field. The tents are insulated with layers of fur and cloth, designed to withstand the biting cold. The camp itself is a lively hub of activity despite the harsh environment. Smoke curls up from several central hearths, where fires are kept burning to provide warmth and to cook meals. The scent of roasting meat and simmering stews mingled with the crisp, cold air when he stepped closer to them.

Like when he first entered Winterfell, all eyes fell upon him, following him as he walked side by side with her. “It seems you have captured the people’s attention,” she teased with a cocky smile. “Why is it because of my hair or my eye?” He asked. “Neither. It’s your attire.” Aemond looked down to his clothing. Of course, he’s still dressed like a member of the night’s watch.

“We hate the crows in here, so it’s better for you to strip those clothes after you meet our Chief,” she said, giving him a wink. Before he could protest, a snow hit his cloak, making him flinch. Turning around, he saw a couple of children running around, even snickering at his presence. “Careful now boys!” She chuckled, greeting some of those children. “Never seen a crow, huh?” She crouched down, talking to the children surrounding her. 

“He only has one eye!” One of the children tried to whisper to her. “Scary, isn’t he? Tell you what, I’ll let you pick on him when I’m not around,” she said to the kids, making them snicker and giggle in excitement. 

She was really good with children. 

Throughout his life, he rarely sees his mother or even his sister being this natural with children. It makes him wonder if she has one. 

“For the meantime, can all of you keep an eye on our horse?” Offering the rein to the children, in which they eagerly accepted before taking the horse away. Aemond curiously kept his eye on the horse as the children led it away. “Don’t worry, they are very gentle with horses. They know their purpose,” she reassured him before she started to walk once more. 

Approaching one of the biggest tents in the area, the spearwife stops beside him, “If the Chief likes you, you’ll live another day.” Before smiling mischievously stepping inside the tent. Slightly on edge, he hesitated to follow them inside. But he would not cower in fear and enter anyways. Reminding himself to keep himself in check if he wants to go home. He stepped inside, his eye falling onto a man sitting in his chair as his companions surrounded him, whispering to each other. 

“Chief, I would like you to meet the crow I spoke of. This is Aemond Targaryen,” she introduced him. Aemond nodded with respect to their chief, an older wildling who carefully inspected Aemond, standing up from his seat. “Targaryen,” he said. “A peculiar tribe. Was it true that your family had power over dragons?” The Chief asked in which Aemond instantly nodded, “Yes, my Lord.”

All of them chuckled humorously. 

“Lord? I’m flattered to be called a Lord,” the chief said in humour. 

“So, where is your dragon now?”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Aemond spoke. 

“She was killed at war.” A sense of bitterness, trying to mask his grief and sadness for Vhagar’s death. 

“A shame,” the Chief said. 

A pregnant pause.

“I want everybody out of this tent.” Aemond’s eyes widened. Was he going to be murdered? Did he not fulfil the Chief’s expectations? 

“But Chief–,” 

“–Especially you, girl. I shall talk to you when I’m done with this crow.”

Aemond instantly locked his eye with hers. Even her expression was unreadable as she hesitantly turned around to exit the tent. She gave him a nod, giving him support before leaving him alone with the Chief. Aemond turned his gaze back to the Chief who was crossing his arms inspecting Aemond from head to toe. 

“The girl likes you,” the Chief chuckles. “If it wasn’t for her you’d probably be dead by now. Killed by those crows.” Aemond kept his expression stoic as he brushed off the Chief’s words. “Speaking of crows, she told me you were forced to be one. Was that true?”

Aemond nodded.

“Yes, Chief.”

“What was your crime?”

“I was called a traitor to the Starks. Yet I beg to differ, for it was them who were traitors,” Aemond bravely said. 

“Traitors to whom?”

“The Throne. My brother.”

“Your brother? Your brother sat on a throne?”

“Yes, Chief.”

“That makes you a prince, then.”

A title he deeply missed. Aemond stood proudly, straightened his back as he kept his chin up high. 

“I am–,”

“You were.” 

“For you are currently not in Westeros, my boy. You are beyond the wall. Everyone beyond the wall fights for survival. For nature does not care if you’re a king or a criminal. And so far as I know, you stand before me,” the Chief said, telling Aemond to abandon his title as prince. “Where does your loyalty lie, boy?” The Chief asked, stepping closer to the one eyed prince. “To the crows?–”

“–No,” Aemond spoke with no hesitation. 

“The Starks?”

“Never.”

The Chief hummed in agreement. “The girl told me you wished to be rewarded. To go back to your family.” Aemond nodded, wishing nothing more than that. “So you’re loyal to your family,” he pointed out.

Aemond nodded. 

“Good. A man should always stay loyal to his family.”

He poured his drink onto his cup, “But will you stay loyal to us as you serve my tribe? And lead us to victory?” Aemond looked down, seeing the cup lent to him. Offering a friendship– an alliance– trust. Trusting a wildling. It seemed impossible for him, but he recalled simple questions by those wildlings about his hair. They were a simple tribe, living out of the complicated politics of Westeros. He could outsmart them easily and they’re offering him friendship. 

She paced back and forth in front of the Chief’s tent, waiting for the Targaryen to exit the tent unharmed. “You seemed stressed, kid,” Gruffed snickered, crossing his arms as he took notice on worried expression. “Of course, I am,” she said, stopping her steps abruptly. “May I know why?” He chuckled.

 “Is it because of the crow?–”

“–He is not a crow. He loathes the crows as much as we do.”

Gruff chuckled amusingly. 

“And? I bet Chief will tolerate him–,”

“–What if he doesn't? What if he beheaded that man and puts him on a spike?!–”

“–So what? What if he were beheaded? You should not care for that outsider—,”

“–I don’t care about him! I-I-I just want what’s best for our people–,”

“–You like him,” Gruff points at her with a mocking laugh. “I don’t! You pig!” She shouted defensively, quickly slapping Gruff’s arm repeatedly. “You do! You like that snow haired boy!” Gruff kept pointing at her as he teased her. The young she wildling grunts in frustration as he denies her feelings for the Targaryen. “If you speak of this one more time, I will kill you in your sleep, Gruff.” 

“Oooh you’ll kill me in my sleep, eh? Right, sure you don’t like that boy, surely if he one day betrays us will you kill him in his sleep?”

“I will. And I’ll cut off his cock and hang it in front of your tent,” she speaks bluntly. 

“Right, you sure you won’t use that for anything else?”

Her face turned red before she threw a hard punch across the red haired’s face. Groaning in pain, Gruff still laughed at her being so flustered with his words. “Why do you like him anyways? Is it because of his hair? His eye? Ooh his other eye, the sapphire?” Gruff asked, sitting up curiously looking at his friend. “For the last time, I do not like our new comer,” she repeated herself. “Keep telling that to yourself, kid. If I see silver haired babies one day–.”

The tent opened, Aemond stepping out of the tent.

Unharmed. 

“Ah, so he gave you a chance to live another day,” she said quickly, changing her once worried demeanour into the confident young wildling she is. Aemond could only nod, towering over her. “I shall, and I will.” 

His purple eye fixed on hers, “Where can I find new clothes?”

a/n: stay tuned for the next chapter and I apologize if this is not my best work but😊✨

[melancholyswayafterdark]

hi! Im the anon that you just responded to hehe, so i have an idea!

so 2007 raphael comes home from doing his nightwatcher duty, hes kinda exhausted but its better when he comes home to you <3 You offer to give him some shoulder massages and it turns into a heated make out session which leads to... you know~

anyway, its just an idea! Hope you have a great night/day <3

we are so back. lmk if yall want a part 2~ I KNOW 2007 RAPH HATES TO SEE ME COMING FR-

NOTE: this is my after dark blog, and you're going to find smut here. 2007 is a more mature version of the turtles, and they are around their early/mid 20s. MINORS DNI. WARNINGS : Giving/Receiving, facefucking

TMNT 2007!Raphael x Reader: Unwind (NSFW 18+)

Imagine Raphael paying you a visit after a night out being the Nightwatcher.

He’s exhausted and wants to see you- and could use a relaxing shower.

He wonders if you’re awake- he looks at the night sky; it had to be past midnight by now. Maybe 2 AM?

But, who was he kidding? You were always awake; waiting for him, wanting him. 

That particular thought made a heat rise in between his thighs, and he looked in the direction of your apartment. 

The most sinful thoughts run through his mind, and he can’t help but reminisce about the last time you were both intimate. How you screamed his name and pleasured him in ways he couldn’t by himself. How good your tight pussy felt around his throbbing cock. Oh yeah, he needed you right now. 

So when he calls you and says he’s coming over, you hop out of bed and head over to the bathroom to set it up for him like you always do

A fresh towel, a washcloth, the whole nine. 

By the time Raphael arrives, his Nightwatcher helmet is off, revealing the face you’ve come to love. He’s sweating, and panting, yet still has the strength to sweep you off your feet and kiss you as a greeting.

It’s the same routine you and the red terrapin have become accustomed to. You wait until he gets out of the shower, you make out, and then he fucks your brains out.

Just the way you liked it.

However this time, Raphael appears to be more fatigued than he usually is. Normally, he comes over and he’s ready to get to work, but right now, as he comes out of the steaming shower, his muscles are sore.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask, watching as Raphael tries to get the knots out of the sides of his neck. He could really, really use a massage right now.

“Uh, yeah, I’m good.” He replies, but you know him all too well. 

You motion for him to come to you, and he obliges. However, instead of going in for a kiss like you usually do, you place your hands on his shoulders and place some pressure on those spots that seem to be bothering him the most. 

=~*~*~=

“Not that I’m complainin’, but what are ya doin'?” The turtle’s golden eyes look into yours as he turns his head to face you. Smiling while sitting behind him, you kiss his cheek.

“I figured you needed a massage. It looks like those muscles need some TLC.” You knew more than anyone that Raphael put much effort into being The Nightwatcher. It meant being able to put in 100% effort every time he put his suit on. With Leonardo currently training abroad, Raphael became accustomed to sneaking out and playing vigilante. It was rewarding, more so now since he gets to see you every night. You took care of him, in more ways than one.

“Ya always know what I need, dontcha princess?” You could hear the playfulness in Raphael’s gruff voice, and that alone started to get you going. If his tone wasn’t enough, him calling you princess was. Raphael viewed you like a goddess, and he placed you so high on a pedestal that he made it a rule for himself to treat you like one. You weren��t just some fuck buddy, you were his, and that’s how he liked it.

“Don’t start,” you nudge him softly, warning the smug turtle not to go there yet; you wanted to finish massaging his perfectly sculpted muscles. 

You had begun to hit all the right spots that were bothering him, and Raphael couldn’t be more appreciative of you than right now. He wondered what he could do to repay you.

Raphael turns his head to you, and he thinks about all the ways he could satisfy you. By this point, you had both come to understand how each other’s bodies worked; what you liked and what you didn’t like. Raphael knew what spots to hit, what places to bite, and what places to suck. 

He watches you hungrily, watching how your pretty face seems fixated on his body, yet you don’t seem to notice how his amber eyes stick to you like glue. He smirked at how oblivious you were at this moment. 

 He thought about- oh! How fun it was last time to eat you out. He wanted to do that again. Or how about that time he came in your mouth just from head? Or even when- you know what? Fuck it. Raphael couldn’t take it anymore. His sexual urges were beginning to take over, and he was ready to devour you like his prey.

“Princess,” He had enough.

“Hmm?” You hum absentmindedly in response. Looking up at him, you could tell what was coming next. The gaze he was giving you, how his voice became gruff and hoarse. Oh, he was ready; and so were you. 

“C’mere-” Grabbing you by your waist, Raphael maneuvers you to where you’re straddling his lap, making sure you can feel the erection against your exposed thigh from your shorts. Getting on top, you wrap your arms around the turtle’s neck, going in for the first kiss. This one would set the tone for the rest of the night. When the first kiss is gentle, Raphael lets you take the lead (which wasn’t often). If the kiss is anything but, he’s usually the one who makes you his and gets you begging for him. You were about to find out how the night would play out. 

“Mmm,” You giggle softly into the kiss, feeling as Raph pulls you closer and places a hand on your neck, placing pressure on the opposite ends of it with two out of three fingers. If that didn’t indicate how the rest of the moment would play out, the way he crashed his lips onto yours and beat you to the punch sure did. His tongue explored your mouth, looking for its partner in crime to dance with. Once your tongues connected, they began battling it out for dominance. Who would reign on top?

Spoiler: it’s Raphael. 

You couldn’t predict him giving your ass a tight squeeze which caused you to moan and put your guard down. Smirking into the kiss, Raphael begins tugging at your shorts, requesting-- no -- demanding that they come off immediately.

When you don’t comply and decide to tease him by slowly reaching for the hem, he takes matters into his own hands.

“Raph!” You roll your eyes at the terrapin, watching as your torn bottoms hit the floor. You felt the air hit your rear as it was now exposed- only a red pair of panties covering you now. “Those were my favorite shorts.”

It seemed this comment didn’t phase Raphael- his fingers found their way toward your waistline and soon your thighs to feel the heat pooling between them. He rubbed his fingers in a circular motion on your sex, feeling your clit swell with excitement for what was about to happen. Raphael’s mind was running wild, he wondered how quickly he could make you cum from just his tongue alone. However, you had other plans. You peel your black tee from your body, feeling the sweat accumulating from the heated moment get wicked away from your skin. You had planned this very moment- and suddenly, Raphael’s attention was on your red bra. You smiled as you got down from straddling his waist on the bed, standing confidently in your own skin as your lover stared you up and down. From head to toe, top to bottom, Raphael loved it when you wore his favorite color. 

He couldn’t wait to devour you.

You watch as his hands wrap around you to unclip the article of clothing from your body, not caring where he threw it once it became undone. He picks you up, plopping you down on the bed. Raphael was ready to eat. Getting on his knees in front of you, he puts his hands together, jokingly thanking you for the meal. He starts with spreading your legs, getting a fantastic view of his feast. He sucks on your clit, watching as you immediately twitch in excitement in response to his mouth on your sex. His wide tongue flicking and sucking in all the right places. Your thighs grip both sides of Raph’s head, making sure his face isn’t going anywhere but in your dripping cunt. As your legs shake from sensitivity, your mutant boyfriend teases you by placing a thick finger by your entrance, ready to prepare you for the real thing. Making sure you really want this, Raph’s face comes from between your legs, looking at your half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks for confirmation to continue. You whine in annoyance, locking your eyes with Raph. His sensual golden ones look up at you from your sex, juices from your entrance all over his lips. Quickly wiping his mouth, he takes a breath before diving back in after your nod of approval. 

“Please,” You manage to breathe out, lustful eyes staring hungrily at the red-banded turtle in front of you. You could almost taste the moan about to erupt from your throat as Raph teased your slippery entrance with his index. The way he had you right where he wanted you seemed to arouse him even more. 

“More,” He flicks his finger, going a mere 2 centimeters inside before retreating outside; the tip of his digit glistening from your arousal. “Beg fa me.” Oh, Raph knew just how to get you under his spell. He’s watching your facial expressions and furrowed brows, trying to focus on your climax, and it seemed to quicken when he asked you to beg. 

“Ya want it?” He teases, removing his finger completely. “Yes,” He knew your answer. However, the smirk on Raph’s face tells you that you’re going to have to do more than just say a simple yes. 

“Not good enough,” The hothead comments, “Try again.” His head lifts from your thighs and moves to your neck, teeth grabbing onto your warm skin softly. He knows exactly which place gets you going, and when he gets there, you can’t help but let out a whimper of satisfaction. 

“P-please, Raph,” You strain, the feeling of Raph suckling on your skin almost sending you into overdrive. “I want it.” 

However, the turtle doesn’t stop, and his thumb somehow finds your enlarged clit, flicking it every which way at a speed that would get you to finish in an instant. You grip his shoulders, throwing your head back until Raph pushes your back onto the bed. He lifts your left leg up, licking his lips to reminisce about just how sweet you tasted. He wanted to go back for seconds. 

Your mind began imagining the most sinful thoughts you could even create. What didn’t help was that Raph’s finger suddenly went inside you, causing your hole to stretch out from how big his finger was. Your body jolts from surprise, causing a moan to escape from your lips. You tightened around the turtle’s finger, feeling his “come here” motion that brushed over your G-spot. 

As the turtle in red did this, you noticed the large bulge from the side of his plastron by his muscular thighs.

Now, Raph knew he had a big cock. He was quite smug about it. The only part that made him anxious was putting it inside you. He didn’t want to hurt you from his size. 

Suddenly, you had an idea, and your mouth seemed to water from the thought of Raph’s green member inside it. 

“W-wait,” Your hands placed on his plastron, and Raph looks up immediately with a concerned look on his face. 

“Sorry, did I hurt ya?” He asks. It’s quite comical how Raph’s tone can switch. He was just eating you out, having you at his mercy, and now he’s back to big teddy bear Raph. 

“No…just…” You sit up, your hair now messy from the sexual activity. Loose strands sticking to your face from the sweat littering your skin. Skin warm to the touch and mouth slightly open to regulate your breathing. You were a beautiful mess. You watch Raph’s hungry eyes, seemingly fucking you with his gaze alone. 

“Lay down.” You command with a silvery voice. Raphael, unsure of what you were doing complies. Did you want to cuddle? Were you tired? Did you need a second to breathe? He was unsure. 

He’s still unsure as his cranium hits the pillow, your bed’s headboard moving slightly. His point of view encapsulates his obvious boner, and you are off to the side of him, looking up with your innocent doe eyes. Your hand caresses the “issue” between his legs, feeling how big it is, and how it twitches in response.

Raph’s face is stunning. Beads of sweat on his forehead and his throaty voice scrambling for words to say as you move his plastron to the side. In an instant, Raph’s member springs out, precum dripping from the tip. His emerald member stands tall and hard, with deep green veins going down from the base to the head.

You eye his sex, almost drooling from how nice it looked with the moon’s light seeping through your window. Your thumb circles Raph’s tip, watching as more precum emerges and a deep churr from Raph’s throat. “Are…are ya sure?” The red-clad turtle asks in a smoky tone. 

You silently nod, determined to take him in your mouth. Albeit a little overwhelming from his size, but, your sexual urges overcome this. You grab Raph at his base, wrapping your hand around him. Your head dipping into his lap and mouth gaping to welcome his dick in your warm cavern. Your mouth becomes stretched and tears emerge from the inner corner of both your half-opened eyes. Purring in satisfaction, you ball your fists to remove any gag reflex. As you go deeper, Raph’s gruff voice groans in delight, and you feel his hand grab a fistful of your hair to hold onto. 

“Princess…ya…yer doin' it so good,” Raph could die right now and be satisfied. His point of view now watching as your swollen moist lips seem to kiss and engulf more than half of his full size. “Keep goin’, jus like dat.” Raph watched as you looked up at him, seeing as your tear-stained cheeks flushed from testing your limits on his girth. He tests the waters a bit, and he gently guides your head to go at a steady pace, bobbing up and down his shaft. 

Now, Raph isn’t known to moan. He tries to hide them by covering his mouth or biting his lip if he has to. But, he knew you liked his noise. His deep moans were music to your little ears. 

As you hummed and the vibrations went down to his base, you caressed his balls before pulling your lips away from his wet tip, a string of saliva connecting you to it. 

“Mmm, come on, Raph,” You tease, leaning towards him and planting a kiss on his neck. “Let me take care of you.” Your hand makes its way from the sack back to the shaft, slightly squeezing as you stroke up and down. 

“F-fuck, Y/n…ya gonna make me cum like this.” You can see Raph’s eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure, his heightened sense of smell taking in the aroma of your sweet sultry scent. Your mouth takes in half of Raph’s member, the lower half being stroked by your hand. You were putting in the work needed to satisfy this turtle, and he was so appreciative of you. Your hair still tangled in his fist, and after some time, you could feel his member begin to twitch. He loved the feeling of you choking on him, and he couldn’t help but move your head down a little after each stroke and penetration into your mouth, feeling your tongue lick around his head in the process. There were just so many sensations going on for him, that Raph’s breath began to get uneven; the volume of his churrs increased to an astronomical level. Raphael wasn’t a quiet lover, no, he wanted everyone to know what was going on. 

“Y/n,” Raph managed to say your name, to which you continued sucking and deepthroating, his noises fueling your desire to make him cum. He watched as his dick was covered in your saliva, the hand wrapped around his base squelching as it stroked up and down in sync with your mouth on his top half. It was just so much that…

“F…fuck! I’m…” You were maxing out your speed, ignoring your sore mouth and cramped hand for the satisfaction of Raph crumbling from your touch. He was under your spell; and you knew it, too.

‘He’s gonna cum’ Your lips curl into a devious smile as they continuously go along his long shaft. Soon enough, you switch up your approach for the final stretch. You remove your hand from Raph’s sex, taking in his whole member as tears prick the ends of your eyes. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, and the feeling alone caused you to clamp your thighs together, feeling as your own excitement dripped onto the sheets. 

“Y-yer so…fuckin’ good…fuck,” Raph swore like a sailor every time you were intimate. The more he swore, the closer he was to finishing. However, before he can finish, he gets an idea in that clouded head of his. 

“Get up.” He says. You comply, and he guides you to the floor as you get on your knees, his form towering over you. Looking up at him with lustful eyes, he knew this was what he wanted to see as he came. You could only see his plastron and his bulging muscles, his member poking your cheek. Guiding it to your mouth, his hand grabbing your hair. He looks at you for approval, to which your soft voice sends him over the edge. 

‘Mm…use me, Raph,” You knew exactly what you were doing to him, didn’t you? Those words were music to his ears. When you felt his grip on your hair tighten and he held your head, you knew you were in for a wild ride. 

Bucking his hips forward, he thrust into your mouth. Your hands gripping both thighs for support, feeling his tip once again knocking on your throat’s door asking if it could be invited in any deeper. 

“Ya like that, don’t ya?” Raph’s shakily teases you. Your watery eyes look up at his golden ones, your nod and vibrations on his cock indicating just how satisfied you were. When you couldn’t take it anymore, one of your hands left his thighs and went down into your own sex. Your fingers spread your pussy and rub your enlarged clit. You moaned on your boyfriend’s dick, his deep groans causing your body to shiver in desire for him to be inside you.

Raphael’s eyes watch as his length disappears in your mouth, only for it to reappear with every thrust. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, the thought of stretching you out giving him just the push he needed to reach his climax. 

“F…fuck, ya gonna make me…fuck!” Raph’s thrusts into your mouth now had an irregular tempo from just a few moments ago. With one final thrust, you felt as if the inside of your throat had been painted with Raph. You could feel ropes of cum shooting and hitting the back of your throat. Your walls seemed to clench with anticipation for what was to come next, and as usual, Raph’s erection inside your mouth didn’t falter, and the grip your lips had on his member didn’t seem to falter, either. Raphael’s cum is on the salty side, with subtle hints of sweetness in the aftertaste. Nevertheless and with pleasure, you swallow it all. As Raph slowly pulls his member from your moist cavern, he watches your tongue stick out, to show him your cum-free mouth; an indicator that he tastes as good as he looks. 

His eyes look at you in satisfaction as his voice materializes from his dry throat, “I love ya. Yer such a good girl,” Raph’s tired smirk dances on his lips as he cups your cheeks, helping you up from the floor as your knees are weak. Your tired mouth forms an “I love you, too,” before it collides with his as you both share a sloppy kiss. As you did so, you don’t even notice his hands wrap around your waist to pick you up. You giggled as your legs snaked around him. Once he gets toward the bed, he places you down, the softness of the mattress comforting your lower lumbar. 

He wanted to reward you for doing so well. He knew your facial muscles were exhausted from pleasuring him, that all he wanted to do now was take care of you down there. Raphael’s sex drive is as high as anyone’s can be, and he was ready to go round for round with you. He was ready to have the neighbors know his name from the way you screamed it.

And here, dear readers, the question is posed: Ready for round 2?

//

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[starcleere]

Randumb headcanons

1. Nebarra teaches Secunda how to fight when camping. He says it's because her melee style is so pathetic it makes an old elf cry, but it's really because he cares, and the last time Secunda ran out of magicka mid-battle...

2. Lucien likes to read every book they pick up on their adventures. Eris doesn't read due to her lack of vision, but she stands by Lucien's tent to overhear him read the books out loud (as he does by habit). Lucien, realizing this, begins to leave his tent open and 'not notice' Eris standing right outside.

3. When Lucien moved into Dumzbthar for a bit, Remiel insisted on coming along. The only reason why she wasn't able to is because everyone else can imagine what horrors would come from leaving Remiel and Lucien in a dwemer ruin unsupervised.

4. Remiel and the Knight of the Void are both insomniacs, and chances are, they're sharing nightwatch duty. The Knight finds the clicking and clacking of Remiel's machines to be relaxing, while Remiel walks her through her invention of the evening. Turns out, the Knight is a good sounding board for upgrade ideas.

5. Auri often listens to the trees, a rare silent moment when she closes her eyes and feels the breeze pass through the leaves. Caryalind once asked Auri about this, and now, they listen to the trees together, hanging at the back of the group and feeling the sunlight on their skin

6. Taliesin sees Remiel as a little sister. A troublesome, constantly distracted, little sister. While he won't let her try her hand at enchanting Berwhale, he is more than happy to show her how to do powerful enchantments for Scrap.

7. Inigo is a very honest person, in an innocent kind of way. He is often the therapist of the gang, and his earnest and patient nature has made him Gore's best buddy, especially when Gore feels heavy from his past.

8. Kaidan regularly drills the gang for the next fight, flanked by Inigo and Auri. He's surprisingly protective of everyone and makes absolutely share they're all at their best and brightest, even if it means sore muscles and liquid bones by morning.

9. Xelzaz cooks, but there's a rotation on who gathers ingredients and hunts. Everyone fights for the spot because the assigned gatherer gets to have extra helpings.

10. All the archers have shooting contests. It always escalates. They never settle on a winner.