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verai-marcel · 2 months

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Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 24 of 28)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

AO3 Link is here, my sweet.

Word Count: 4,380

Act III, Chapter 3 - The Torment

The next morning started off like any other. However, you were surprised when Wyll, Karlach, and Jaheira came back in the late afternoon with a tall, muscular, and bald man with a small rodent on his shoulder. Karlach and Wyll were following the other two with expressions of awe.

I wonder if he’s an associate of Jaheira’s… that would explain why Karlach and Wyll are fawning so hard.

The man saw you and grinned broadly, waving cheerfully at you. Your seal pulsed strongly in return.

Who exactly is this man?

Coming up to the group, you smiled warmly. “Welcome back, everyone. Who’s our new friend?”

“I am Minsc!” Then he held out his hand for the little rodent to hop onto his palm and held him out to you. “And this is Boo, the mighty miniature giant space hamster.”

When the hamster looked at you, your seal pulsed again, sending heat waves through your blood. You looked back up at Minsc, and the power ebbed away.

What. No way. It was the hamster that is the powerful one here?

Boo chittered, and while everyone else was looking at the creature, you noticed that Minsc was listening intently as if he understood every little squeak.

“Oh, yes, of course,” he mumbled. Then he gingerly brought Boo back to his shoulder. “Boo is looking forward to sampling your fine dishes and to hear your singing. Karlach and Wyll have been praising your talents!”

You blinked. “Um, alright, I’ll do my best,” you said, directing your reply to the little hamster. Looking into its eyes, you suspected you saw understanding, and even more, satisfaction.

Welp, that was strange.

You learned from the others that the underground guild in the city and Jaheira had made a deal: she got help finding Minsc, and in exchange, they had chased the Zhentarim out of the city. You breathed a sigh of relief.

So I didn’t need to worry about them after all. Thank the gods. Or rather, thank Jaheira.

Karlach patted your back. “I’m relieved. One crime group is enough for this city, hah!”

You laughed, hiding your nerves. “Yup, good riddance.” And now they’ll never know.

Leading the others to the campfire, you served them some drinks and some snacks and listened to them regaling you with their adventure, which had taken them all across the city, even to the deepest bank vaults. They had even found Mol and a couple other tiefling children in the Guild, running their business, and doing quite well for themselves.

“Oh good, I’d like to go back to the other tiefling children and let them know Mol is safe,” you said.

“I can do it,” Karlach said with a smile. “I’m sure Wyll would want to see them again too.”

Wyll nodded, and you caught his soft look as he watched Karlach.

Oh ho, his love grows.

After their story, you rooted around through the pile of loot for any extra bedrolls or fabric to make a tent for the newcomer. Just as you had managed to find enough rags to weave together, you heard the alarm bells on your belt chime softly.

Turning toward the entrance, the others had arrived looking a bit worn out. As they joined the group at the campfire, Shadowheart relayed what had happened.

“We literally went to hell and back. But now Lae’zel has a way to free Orpheus.”

The githyanki nodded with a slight smirk. Oh, she’s quite pleased.

“And we may have a change of accommodations,” Gale said. “The Elfsong has an upper floor penthouse available if we wish to use it, for a discounted fee.”

“Are there enough beds for everyone?” you asked, sweeping your hand towards everyone, including Shadowheart’s parents, Isobel, and Aylin, who were hanging back, listening in.

“Plenty of beds,” Gale replied.

“And why the discount?” you questioned. Inns don’t give discounts unless…

“There might have been a murder on that floor, and that might be scaring off the guests.”

Everyone looked at Gale.

“Look, just because one person died there doesn’t mean we should stay out in the open for the remainder of our time here.”

After some thought, the group began to mumble agreement.

Wait. Then that means…

“So you won’t be needing me any further,” you quietly said.

All eyes turned to you.

“Well, of course we need you, darling.” Astarion walked up to you and patted your head. “You still have to feed me.” He gestured towards everyone else. “And these fools couldn’t clean worth a damn.”

You glanced at everyone else, who were mostly shrugging sheepishly.

“And who’s going to take care of the giant pile of souvenirs that Karlach and Astarion keep pilfering?” Wyll joked.

“Some of those are from you too!” Karlach shot back, lightly shoving Wyll, who only laughed.

“The point is, you’re part of the team,” Gale said softly. “We need you just as much as anyone else.”

You turned back to Astarion, who nodded and took your hand, holding it gently, his thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles. Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “Besides, you promised you would stay with me, didn’t you?”

You nodded.

“Good girl,” he murmured before pulling back. Turning to everyone else, he shot them all a triumphant grin. “So, shall we upgrade our accommodations?”

***

By the time you all had finished packing and moving everyone’s things out of the harbor and to the Elfsong, the sun had just dipped below the horizon. Yet the tavern was already loud and lively, full of music and drinkers. Gale went to the front desk and paid for the new lodgings, holding up a key triumphantly to everyone before leading the group upstairs.

“Probably best if I keep a low profile. They used to know me all too well in here,” Astarion muttered to you as he helped take the packs up the stairs, attempting to blend in with the others. You watched his back as he went up the stairs, walking closely to the floating disc as it hovered behind Gale. Your eyes wandered down the line of Astarion’s body, down his back, his hips, his—

Gods, what am I doing?

You shook your head and re-focused on the back of his head, but he had already caught you staring, as he looked back at you with a knowing smirk.

“Admire all you like, darling.”

You immediately looked away and huffed.

His sly grin stayed on his face throughout the rest of the unpacking.

***

Since you didn’t need to cast warming cantrips any longer, you could spend your time sorting the loot pile and going out to the market to sell whatever you could, and buying fresh groceries. You were actually excited to see what kind of fresh vegetables and herbs you could get, now that you were in a large city.

“You’re sounding happy,” Shadowheart said as she approached, kneeling down next to you while you polished some of the tarnished jewelry with a rag.

You stopped humming and smiled up at her. “Well, I can finally catch up on some inventory management,” you said, pointing at the rather large pile of knick knacks and herbs. “You lot seem to have sticky fingers.”

“It’s how I grew up,” Karlach said as she joined the two of you, sitting cross legged on the other side of you. “Take everything of value and sort it out later for pocket change.”

You nodded. “That’s fair. I just haven’t had much of a chance to go through it all lately, and it seems like everyday you come back with more.”

Gale suddenly came up and tapped Shadowheart’s shoulder. With one look, her eyebrows furrowed and she got up.

“We’re going to plan our next trip into the Undercity. We’ll probably need to split up if we want to stop the murders and find where Orin is hiding.”

You nodded and watched as everyone gathered around the table in the main sitting room on the upper level. Remaining in the lower area near the fireplace, you continued to sort through everything, catching bits and pieces of their conversation.

“...have to find where the Bhaalspawn…”

“...Orin’s base might be…”

You finished sorting what you could, and pulled together all the random coins you had found. There was a significant amount, so you didn’t feel bad about ordering room service tonight.

“I’m going downstairs to order us a meal to be brought up, are there any requests?”

***

As you came downstairs with a long piece of paper full of meal requests, you ran into a familiar face.

“Lakrissa!” you said with a bright smile.

She called your name excitedly and gave you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“We got a room upstairs, at a discounted rate.”

“Oh, the murder room. Well, I suppose that wouldn’t bother your group much, would it?”

You laughed. “Nope, not after what they’ve seen. Oh, I need to put their supper order in.”

Lakrissa smiled and took your order for you, telling you to wait by the stairs for her while she gave it to the kitchen. When she returned, she gave you a wide grin.

“Follow me,” she said quietly as she nodded toward the back staircase.

She snuck you up to the rooftop, where you heard a soft lute and a familiar voice.

You smiled, afraid to stop Alfira’s singing. She was swaying softly to her song, her back to you and Lakrissa, the gibbous moon shining brightly above her head. The two of you enjoyed her song until the end, applauding her just as she turned around.

The bard smiled, pleasantly surprised to see you. You hugged, and the three of you caught up on each other’s lives since the Last Light Inn.

“Would you join me for a song?” Alfira asked. “If you have time, that is.”

You turned to Lakrissa. She nodded. “You’ll have time. With the amount of orders you put in, you could sing out here for a half hour and it wouldn’t be done.”

The two of you figured out a song you both knew, and while she played and sang harmony, you took the lead, letting your voice carry on the rooftop, and letting the tingling feeling on your spine travel through your body, through your lungs, through your throat. You felt almost as if you could layer your voice if you pushed your power through yourself hard enough.

On the last lyric, you let your vibrato go longer and harder than you ever had, leaving just enough breath to end the song on a delicate sigh.

A raucous applause startled you, and you turned to see all of your companions standing behind Lakrissa, who was wearing a sly grin.

“You cheeky woman!” Alfira said to her as Lakrissa came up and placed her hand on the small of her back.

You were distracted from their cute banter by everyone else’s compliments. You shyly bowed.

“Boo says that was a most wonderful performance, rivaling the great opera singers from Waterdeep!”

You flinched involuntarily at the mention of Waterdeep, but you acted as if you didn’t. “You’re too kind,” you said with a smile.

Lakrissa tapped your shoulder. “I can go check if your food is ready, but would you all want to eat up here? It’s a beautiful moonlit night!”

You turned to everyone else, who seemed to be enjoying themselves, catching up with Alfira and admiring the view.

“That sounds lovely.”

As she went downstairs, you spotted some tables and chairs scattered around the rooftop and had an idea. You took a deep breath and began to hum, walking to the furniture and tapping them lightly. As if they suddenly gained sentience, they hopped and began to follow you, arranging themselves into a nice group formation.

Everyone had gone silent, watching you work. You paid them no mind, singing a song about faerie lights, touching the leaves and vines around the area, making them glow orange and pink and purple. Lost in the sensation of the magic and the music flowing through your body, you spun around and swayed your arms, letting the lights glow brighter as your power pulsed against your skin.

Suddenly Astarion was standing next to you, his hand on the small of your back, pressing on your seal. He kissed your cheek and pulled you close, interrupting your song.

“I couldn’t help myself darling,” he said a bit too loudly as he dragged you away from everyone else. Karlach tried to peek, but Shadowheart shooed her and the other onlookers back to the tables to wait for their food.

Away from the crowd, Astarion whispered into your ear. “Your seal was glowing brightly through your clothes.” His hand pressed harder against your back. “Be careful.”

You looked up at him, surprised at his look of concern. “Oh. Thank you,” you murmured. It didn’t feel like burning this time, though. It felt… powerful.

He guided you back to the tables just in time for Lakrissa and another worker to bring the trays of food for everyone. Using your party as an excuse, she stayed behind and ate with you, along with Alfira, who entertained you all with music through the rest of dinner.

It was a wonderful evening, and you treasured it.

***

The next morning, the others left, but came back within an hour to talk to Dame Aylin. You overheard something about a tower and a wizard who had put a price on her head, and she immediately charged out the doors. Isobel followed the group out to follow her.

You turned to Shadowheart’s parents. “Erm, well, I was about to go out and get groceries. I should be back soon.”

They nodded and told you that they would let the others know if they came back before you did.

Out in the city, you felt relatively safe, anonymous in the large crowds. You walked over to a jeweler and bartered away some of the found gems and trinkets for a great price, adding to your coin pouch. Heading down to the marketplace, you managed to get an excellent cut of venison from the butcher and some fresh herbs and vegetables. Holding the bag in your arms, you headed back to the Elfsong.

Halfway there, your seal pulsed. You immediately looked around.

A man, with a patch over his eye and a large sword at his side, scratched his arm, his sleeve lifting up to reveal a tattoo of a legless dragon in flight. It was a tattoo you recognized with ease.

A Zhent!

You quickly began to walk away, turning a corner beyond the Elfsong, unwilling to make the mistake of leading someone straight to your home base. Instead, you walked through the graveyard, then past the tombmaker’s shop. Just as you were rounding the corner to make a loop back home, you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

Turning around, you were met with Gale, smiling and waving his hand to you.

“Can you follow me for a moment? I have something to show you,” he said, gesturing for you to follow.

Your seal pulsed with a stinging heat.

“Um, let me put these groceries away first.”

“We haven’t the time,” he insisted, coming closer to you.

Gale would have offered to carry my groceries for me by now. This isn’t him!

Without another word, you turned to run.

The doppelganger grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled hard, choking you. Dropping your bag of groceries, you pulled at your collar, trying to get some air, but they were strong. One arm wrapped around your mouth.

“You’ve got wits, but no power. Pity,” a woman’s voice hissed in your ear.

You felt a sharp pain to your temple, and then you felt nothing at all as everything went black.

***

Astarion and the others returned to their room in the Elfsong, ready for a long rest. Upon entering the room, however, he smelled something distinctly… vile.

“Welcome back,” said the creature posing as his hearth witch. Though she looked like her, she definitely didn’t sound like her. The soothing warm tone of her voice could not be replicated by any other.

“You’re not her.” Astarion glared at the shapeshifter, disgusted that she would take the form of his beloved.

Orin pouted. “How could you tell so quickly?”

“I could smell your stench a mile away.”

Everyone looked on in horror as a crazed, maniacal grin grew on their hearth witch’s face. And when she twisted back to her usual form, everyone felt a fear and anger that they could not swallow down.

“If you want your precious friend, then kill Gortash for me and bring me his netherstone.” She disappeared in a burst of pink petals, her insane laughter bleeding away.

Astarion could barely contain his rage. “We don’t have time, we have to find her now,” he snarled.

The others agreed.

“Don’t worry Astarion, we’ll find her,” Wyll said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Orin won’t get away with this.”

He nodded as he tried to keep a level head. But it was so, so hard.

If Orin touches her… she’ll feel her madness. She’ll feel everything.

***

You woke up to a world of pain, your entire body feeling as if it was on fire. You shifted and gasped in agony.

Then your memories of the last 24 hours returned, and you nearly vomited. You had so, so many cuts across your body. Your clothes had been sliced to shreds, and your skin along with it.

The crazed cackle of your captor drew your attention. Orin licked her knife with glee. “Your blood is the sweetest,” she murmured.

And then she wrapped her hand around your neck. You let out a hoarse cry of agony as her madness seeped into you. No amount of mental guarding could keep out the intensity of her insanity.

c̵̝̽u̵̩͌t̵͇͛ ̷̗̕c̵͉͌ṵ̵͝t̴̝̓ ̵̫͋m̸͙̚a̶̧̾i̴͈͋m̴̱̀ ̷̳̔m̸͇͛a̸̢͝i̸̗͗m̴͎͝ ̴̡̒m̷͍̈́ṵ̶͗r̵̝̾d̷̜̄e̸̤͋r̵̹͝ ̷̮̓m̸̳̊ủ̵͚r̸̖͑d̷͈̿e̴̞̐r̸̻͋k̶̜̋i̷̪͊l̶̝̔l̸͚̀k̴̫̃i̶͈̓l̴͇̀ĺ̶͙K̴͉̍Ȋ̶͜L̸͈͛L̵̫͌ ̴̢̀K̸̯̈I̸͍̿L̸̘̍Ľ̶̪ ̶̘̈K̴͇͘I̴̬͐L̶͚̀L̶̤̓—̸̟̀ ̵͉̏

You squeezed your eyes shut to drown out the voices in your head.

“Who knew you would be so sensitive to just my mere touch! Such a delight to torture.”

You could barely hear her words beyond the pounding of blood in your ears. Is this what she constantly felt? Wave after wave of darkness, followed by an alternating current of rage, a frenzied, frenetic need to hurt, to kill.

It was so dissonant from your usual emotions that you were having a physical reaction. Your blood pumped harder, spilling more from your wounds. You were weakening, your limbs feeling heavier with each passing moment.

“Let go of me!” you cried, your hands wet with your blood as you tugged weakly at Orin's arm.

She only laughed. “Why should I? Your agony is the sweetest candy on my tongue.” Grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully, she brought the inside of your arm to her mouth. While she stared at you with her crazed glare, she licked your blood, savoring it, smearing it all over her lips.

“No!” You shrieked, trying to jerk your arm away. It was a useless endeavor; she was far stronger than you could ever be. “That blood is not for you!”

You tugged harder, the blood making your skin slippery. Her grip tightened until you felt your bones begin to yield, the pain making you keen.

“You make the most lovely sounds when in pain,” she murmured, letting go of your wrist and your throat. Placing the tip of her knife at your collarbone, she grinned maniacally. The sharp tip pierced your skin, the slow, burning sting making you whimper in pain.

“Let me hear you sing in agony once more—“

“My lady!”

Orin immediately grabbed the servant by the throat. “How. Dare. You. Interrupt me!”

“There…. are… intruders…” the servant gurgled.

You looked up, grateful for any distraction that kept Orin’s knife away from your collarbone. In the distance, you could see your companions as they charged down the stairs. A sense of relief flooded you.

Your friends. They were here. Thank the gods.

All of the stress and the injuries suddenly overwhelmed you, and your vision blurred. Did Orin just transform into a beastly creature? The party threw themselves into the fray, fighting off the other cultists while Karlach and Lae'zel focused on Orin.

The last thing you saw was Astarion rushing past the beast towards you, calling out your name.

***

It had been a hell of a battle, and Astarion barely remembered it. Once he had secured his beloved in a safe corner, he had lashed out, stabbing Orin until she screamed in agony. Then he sprinted back, picked up his little hearth witch in his arms and brought her to Shadowheart, who immediately healed her wounds. Her clothes were shredded to tatters, and even after her wounds had closed, she was still out cold.

“She may be mentally overwhelmed,” Shadowheart said.

He only nodded before setting off at a hurried pace to get back to the Elfsong, cradling her closely.

After they got out of the Undercity, she finally spoke to him again. “I'm surprised by how far you've come, Astarion. I didn't think you'd ever care so deeply about anyone.”

“I didn’t think so either,” he replied carefully. “But she managed to weasel her way in.”

“It's funny how the little things do so much. A warm meal, a soft touch, a gentle smile. She's brought us all out of our shells, made us feel safe.”

“Yes…” He looked down at his love. “She feels like home.”

Shadowheart didn’t miss the softness in his eyes as he spoke, gazing at his witch.

***

“Seems strange, doesn't it?” Shadowheart mused while she sat with the other around the communal table, snacking on some cheese.

“Well, they're lovers now, right? I wouldn't let anyone touch you either.”

Shadowheart frowned, even though she felt a bit tickled by Gale's protective comment. “That's fair. But he barely let me finish healing her before snatching her away.”

Gale shrugged. “Some people go a little crazy when they fall in love. I certainly don't blame him for acting this way. She's been kidnapped twice now, right under our noses.”

Nodding, Shadowheart grew quiet for a moment. “What do you think he meant when he said her skin was sensitive?”

Karlach suddenly lifted her head. “I asked her about why she wore gloves all the time and she said it was a secret. Maybe she just has super sensitive skin!”

The others just accepted that conclusion and moved on to other topics, but Shadowheart kept chewing on the thought.

What if…?

***

You regained consciousness as Astarion was lifting you in his arms. You felt his worry for you through your bare skin before you realized that he had taken his shirt off, and you were fully naked.

“What’s going on?” you mumbled.

“We rescued you,” he answered, his voice soft. “And now I’m giving you a bath. You’re covered in blood.”

“Oh.”

Astarion slowly lowered you into the tub, the water immediately turning red as the dried blood on your skin was washed away. The warmth was soothing against your freshly healed body and you started to relax. But the moment Astarion let go of you, the pain from before came rolling back. When Orin had held you down, her madness had borne down on you, unrelenting, and it returned now in ripples of mania.

You struggled to stay alert, but you could feel your mind slowly dissociating. Your consciousness faded as you battled the memories.

b̸̫̅͆ͅl̴̛̼̳̎ǒ̶̭́͜o̵̢̔ḋ̵̘̈́ ̷̢̬͌͘b̸̮͖̔l̸̙̬͘o̷͕̩̿̊o̸̬̐d̶̛͉ ̷̙̰̔c̷̢̩̈́ų̵̰͝t̶̖̲͆̿ ̷̭̬͝c̴̬̙̃u̴̱͋́t̶͆̆ͅ

“Darling?”

s̷̖̍l̵͕͋i̵̗͒̾c̴̻̫̔̀ē̶̝ ̴͉͝͝s̵̝̋̅l̸̠̏́i̴̳̚c̷͚̎̒e̸̜̜̒ ̵̹͂̎ͅh̵̤̋̐ư̶̥͌r̵̖͚̆t̶̡̬̋ ̸̤͓̌h̵̗͑̓ų̵̙̾͊r̸͖̍̀t̶̼̎͘ ̸̙̐̍m̷͈͝a̷̘͎͗̊i̵̩̦̊̌m̷̳̗̿̈ ̵̞̂m̶͚͍͒͠a̵̠͚̚i̴̭͋̏m̶̹͖͊̓

Suddenly your mind went blank as Astarion pulled you out of the tub and into his embrace. You wanted to chide him about getting his pants dirty with the bloody water, that you were naked, that this was wholly inappropriate…

But when you felt the overwhelming feeling of love and protection around you, it silenced everything else. The echoes of Orin's insanity, the screams of your own mental state, everything.

All you felt was Astarion's love for you, and it brought you back to the present.

And you cried.

“I've got you, my sweet. I've got you,” he murmured as you shook uncontrollably.

“I hate this!” you cried. “I…I'm weak. I'm helpless. I didn't… I didn't want to be a burden!”

Astarion hushed you gently, nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. “What's that irritating thing that Gale always says about burdens?”

It took you a moment to remember. “A burden shared is a burden halved?”

“Yes. That.” He guided your chin up to look at him. “We both have our share of burdens. I accept yours, just as you accepted mine.”

“So you can say nice things,” you teased through your tears. “You won't abandon me?” you asked quietly.

“You're the heart I thought I had lost,” he quietly confessed. “So don't even think for a moment that I'd ever let you go.” He held you tighter. “You're mine, burdens and all.”

He coaxed you back into the tub, and kept at least one hand on your skin as he helped you get clean. While you knew you were healed, you sometimes saw the cuts that Orin had inflicted as an afterimage on your skin. You had to shake your head and force the vision away from your mind.

While you were fighting the demons in your head, Astarion bathed you, dried you off, and took you to bed, wrapping you up in his arms, against his bare chest.

“Will you be alright?” he asked softly, his gaze full of concern.

You took a deep breath. Would you? Orin did a hell of a number on you. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and you had seen some strange things in Waterdeep. Hells, you had faced a vampire lord and survived.

And yet…

“I’ll be alright,” you finally said.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I really will,” you insisted. “It may take some time, but you’ll be here to help, won’t you?”

His eyes softened. “Of course, darling.”

It wasn’t until you were mostly asleep that you realized that you were still naked, skin against skin with Astarion.

And yet, it was the most comfortable you had ever been with him, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

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

Act III, Chapter 3 End notes: Sorry for the lateness, had to work double digit hours every day this week at work, but finally got some time to edit and post this chapter! I’m really leaning into that hurt/comfort trope here and I regret nothing. But I think this will be about as much as I can write in terms of injuries, because honestly, our dear little witch needs to catch a break.

Also a bit of behind the scenes here: I absolutely killed that Zhentarim plotline, because it wasn’t working for me and it does get conveniently taken care of by Jaheira in the game. And I was thinking that HW was being a bit paranoid; she hasn’t seen a Zhent in years since the last time she was in the Gate. Also, the masked lord has basically forgotten about her, but she doesn’t know that.

Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter!

Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

#bg3 #astarion #astarion x f!reader #baldur's gate 3 #writing #bg3 fanfic #female reader #bg3 spoilers #your hearth is my home #cw: blood #cw: injury

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oftenwantedafton · 3 months

Text

Vent - Steve Raglan/William Afton/Springtrap x Female Reader

Chapters 25-27

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content and blood kink

Also available on AO3 Chapters 25 | 26 | 27

Chapter 25 ~ kindred ~

The yellow rabbit has returned.

Not fully; not actually physically there, but his voice is present once again, his image now adorning the shining surface of a butcher knife. Through the sliver of steel one lamp eye regards the new mark upon William, seeing right through the layers of his clothing. Eventually it will be another scar to add to the collection of mementos and keepsakes that map across his body.

Afton stares at the rabbit’s reflection in the blade now lying next to the cutting board, the vegetables he’s been chopping already forgotten.

“You’re going to have to let me out sooner or later.”

William knows this. It’s how it’s always been. He only kills when he’s in the costume. It’s part of the ritual. He has to be inside the mascot suit for it to work. But it’s risky. He doesn’t want to lose control again; doesn’t want to give his alter ego the chance to warn you away again. To poison you against him.

“I don’t have to do anything,” he says, but the lie is heavy on his tongue and they both know it.

In truth, the former killer craves the feeling of being enshrouded within the suit. Surrounded by matted, fading fur and corroding metal and overloaded circuits and frayed wires. The two of them aligned. Moving as one. The rabbit’s body and his mind. Opening the gateway, steel meeting flesh. Harvesting. Transference. Pushing through, material to immaterial. Transcendance. An accidental discovery that he’d gotten addicted to. He still doesn’t understand all the details of it, only knows the procedure.

“You’re starving,” the rabbit observes, startling William from his musings. He’d nearly forgotten the other was there. His assessment is correct. The hunger gnaws at him constantly. Not for sustenance in any traditional sense of the word; rather, an incessant drive for the other, darker things. He reaches for the laceration you’ve created together. Imagines you carving another. Taking you apart and putting you back together again. Filling up the empty space. Sated. “You’ve tried that before. A wife and three children and it still wasn’t enough to fill that void.”

William frowns at the rabbit. “It’s different this time. She’s different. Special. We’re kindred.”

“What if it’s still not enough? What if she can’t give you what you need?”

Silence. He does not want to think about the implications of that failure.

“You can’t keep me away forever. I always come back.”

Of course he does. Crawling through the vents, oozing around like a cell though a vessel. Hidden deep where no one will see, concealed beneath the shiny new layers of the restaurant, fresh paint and replaced flooring masking what lies inside, at the heart of the establishment.

William grits his teeth. A bead of perspiration forms on his brow. “Not yet.”

He wipes the knife clean and puts it back in the block on the kitchen counter.

Chapter 26 ~ symbiosis ~

You stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

At the cut William’s inflicted, visible now that you’ve peeled away the gauze and showered. It’s a clean scabbed line, near surgical precision. As if he’s had practice.

You don’t want to think about that.

You don’t want to think about how it had felt, being cut and slicing him in return; how terrified you were, yet how exhilarating it was at the same time. The intimacy of him tasting your blood; of his own upon your lips. It was sick, twisted, depraved, you know it, but there’s always been something off about the older man and you’ve grown to tolerate it. No, far more than tolerate it. Be honest now.

There’s always been something off about you, too. Ever since…ever since…

You almost have it, the memory skittering around at the far reaches of your mind.

What had happened at the pizzeria that day nearly nine years ago now?

You think about your friend saying how much he needs you, how special you are. His only. And…

Your cheeks flush. You wonder if it’s always going to be like this now, or just when the mood strikes him. There’s a new light in his eyes now that the restaurant has reopened. As if he’s more alive; as if something has awakened inside of him.

You glance at the bathroom clock. He’ll be there soon. A long day ahead of you. A longer night.

You finish dressing and return to him.

***

No candy today. Just William sitting in his sedan, waiting. The air is dry and hot. It will be the start of a stretch of arid days, the state you live in notorious for receiving the least amount of precipitation.

He’s watching you intently. Waiting for you to speak. Perhaps he’s uncertain about what happened the other night.

“Hi,” you greet him softly.

“How are you?”

Such a loaded question and he doesn’t even know it. Floodgates open and you recount everything that had happened since he’d dropped you off two nights ago. “I had a fight with my parents when I got home the other night. Both complaining about me coming in so late. All of a sudden they’re talking about a curfew. They want money for rent since I’m working so much. My stepmother opened one of my acceptance letters. No congratulations for getting in, of course. She’s already complaining about the expense, as if financial aid and scholarships don’t exist. I haven’t even decided where I’m going yet.”

William frowns. “Suddenly parenting and in all the wrong ways,” he mutters. “I’m sorry. I can speak to them if you want.”

You shake your head at the offer. “No. It would probably just make things worse. I hate living here.” You haven’t vented this much since…well, maybe since the yellow rabbit.

The yellow rabbit.

William. You should avoid him at all costs.

Avoid the only person who’s ever really acknowledged you even exist? Who helps you and cares for you and…

…and likes the taste of your blood. Is far too familiar with a blade. Wants you to be his protégé. He needs it. It wasn’t too much to ask, was it, considering all he’s done for you? When he fills you up so full of that feeling of being wanted and desired, makes you feel smart and pretty, full of purpose, belonging. A symbiotic relationship where you both feed off of each other, provide for the needs in one another. Mutually beneficial.

“You don’t have to stay. You’re almost nineteen. You can move into a dormitory at college, depending on where you decide to go, or…perhaps in the future you could stay with me.”

“What, you mean move in with you?” You blink, surprised, focusing back on the conversation. You try to wrap your head around the thought of what he’s offering. What it would be like to wake up in his arms every morning. Your kitchen daydream returns. Going to work together, coming home together, sharing a meal, he’ll help you with your college coursework and you’ll read to him in the library and then, and then…

“It’s certainly an option.”

There’s an ache in your chest. “You really want me to live with you?”

“The idea of it isn’t unpleasant.” He rewards you with one of those secret smiles of his and that fluttering feeling in your stomach returns. “Not to trivialize these other matters, but I want to know how you feel about…this.” He reaches out, tracing the cut through your tshirt.

Your pulse quickens. “It looks okay.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m…I’m not sure. It scared me. But I also liked it,” you admit quietly. You lick your lips, determined to plow your way forward before you lose your resolve. You want to hear him say it again. You want to say it yourself. What’s stopping you? “Did you mean what you said about…am I…do you really feel that way about me?”

“Would I have offered to have you move in with me if I didn’t?”

“I don’t know. I mean…”

“You should know how I feel by now. We’re already together almost daily anyway. We’ll just be filling in the rest of the time now, too.” He leans over and kisses you. “You really liked it? You’re not just saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear?”

“No. I would never do that.”

“Good. Best friends shouldn’t lie to one another. And yes, before you mention it, I did lie about my name, but those were very specific circumstances and I would have told you the truth in time. Even still, I’m sorry I had to do it, for your sake.” His face moves to kiss over your wound. You touch his hair and close your eyes, focusing on the feel of his warm breath through the thin fabric of the shirt. He wanted you. You were his. You had something to look forward to now. A future with him.

Did anything else really matter?

Chapter 27 ~ dorian gray ~

High school graduation draws closer.

Hurricane’s community steadily expands. New residents, new employees, new visitors. And there, at the center of all of it, the pizzeria with its enigmatic owner and you, the dutiful assistant.

William sets a hot fudge sundae down in the center of the table. His sleeves are rolled up now that there are no prying eyes. Only one spoon is tucked into the dessert. He scoops some of the chocolate and whipped cream and feeds it to you. Bends and licks the remains off your lips. You both want more.

You’re pressed against the side of his car. Pressed down into the nearby field scattered with new flowers. The air is filled with the scent of grass and the hum of insects, the epitome of an early summer evening. His kisses are fire. He sears you inside and out. You kiss the healing mark you’ve made on him and he says your name and you come undone beneath the open sky.

***

It’s senior skip day. The perfect excuse to spend more time with your best friend.

You’re seated in the recliner tucked into the corner of William’s study. He sits across from you and watches you with hungry eyes as you read aloud The Picture of Dorian Gray. Your sketchbook lies open on the table nearby, your latest drawing of your lover’s face nearly finished. You enjoy drawing him from memory, but there’s something special about having him pose for you in person, so still and quiet, watching you with those ravenous eyes.

You finish the last page, glancing up at the older man.

“What do you think? Would you do it, if you could? Sell your soul in exchange for being young forever? Letting something else-or someone else-bear the burden of aging, of sin?”

He unfolds from the couch-there’s no other way to explain how that long, lean frame of his moves-tugging the book gently from your fingers. Kneels before you. You touch his cheek, stroke over the hairs of his beard, mulling over the questions. “I don’t think the trade off would be worth it in the end. I’d rather keep my soul.”

“Would you?” He murmurs, turning his face to kiss the inside of your wrist. The morning sunlight filtering through the window nearby rests in a warm band across the exposed springlock scars on his bare forearm, the fine hairs surrounding the taut skin lit with gold.

“I’d give it to you if you asked.”

He smiles, stroking the inside of one thigh, most of which is exposed since you’re wearing shorts today. Your core tingles in anticipation, your legs parting. He traces the line of the prominent adductor muscle before it disappears beneath the hem. “I know you would. I want to taste you,” he says, lidded eyes meeting yours, and you know he’s not just talking about the liquid arousal flowing from your entrance.

Your breath stutters and you nod slowly. It has been a couple of weeks since the day of your induction into this new part of your relationship. You’ve wondered when he’d ask again; been too afraid to inquire about it for yourself.

“Take these off. I’ll be back.” He pats one thigh, pushing off of the arm rest of the plush chair to stand. You unbutton and unzip the denim shorts and shrug out of them, your panties following suit, the clothing lying in a rumpled pile on the hardwood floor. You try to relax, to calm your breathing, but your anticipation is building.

Why did you like it so much?

William returns. You catch a flash of silver from a single edge razor blade tucked between his fingers. He kneels again, one calloused hand wedging between your legs and you spread them wide for him, one leg hooked over each arm rest. He licks a stripe from one knee all the way to your groin. A soft kiss is planted there. Another. So gentle. So at odds with what you know is coming. A lick between your folds. A circle drawn over your clit. You arch against him and his tongue drives inside of you. Your fingers knot in his hair. He pulls your sex into his mouth and sucks. You whimper.

“Are you ready?” His eyes are black. A pure bottomless void to drown in. You want to succumb, let it wash over you.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

You feel the slight weight of the sharp metal resting against your inner thigh. Another place no one will ever see. You can’t stop staring, waiting for the bloom of crimson.

A sharp hot pain and the deed is done. Precise once more, a clean line. He pulls the soft flesh into his mouth and you moan. He thrusts a finger inside of you, his thumb caressing your cluster of nerves. Adds another, his palm slapping roughly against the curve between your legs. You’re soaking wet, aching inside and out. You grasp his forearm and squeeze, grinding yourself against him. You feel his teeth sink into the skin he’s suckling, biting around the wound, bruising you. More pain but it’s lost in the pleasure. The coil within loosens and you gush over his thrusting fingers, crying out his name.

He lets you choose where to cut him, deciding you want to mark him along the winged crest of one hip. You do better this time, not needing his hand to guide you or lend you strength. You see his cock twitch when you make the mark. The taste of metal fills your mouth. Then soap from the morning’s shower. The musk of the honeyed early spill, clear precum leaking onto your tongue. You don’t need guidance for this either anymore. You’re no longer a novice. Your mouth engulfs him and you shove him down your throat. Pause only long enough to have another taste from the laceration before you’re back to choking on his erection. He’s making those needy sounds you’ve come to love.

Love. That’s what this feeling is, isn’t it? He’s yours and you’re his. You’ve given your body; he owns your soul. He is your mirror, your own portrait.

You drink his blood and his cum and crush your mouth against his, letting him taste everything you’ve gathered.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #william afton #fnaf movie #fnaf fanfic #steve raglan #springtrap

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bluemidnightmelody · 10 months

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lover/fighter - Chapter index

Since this work will be very long, I've decided that it's too complicated to post everything directly on tumblr. Instead, I will link all currently available chapters to the ao3 version (warnings are in the tags on ao3).

Summary: Rhea Lafey has big plans. After a difficult childhood as part of the Capitol's poorer population, she plans to make a difference on her own. After earning her position in the higher circles of society as a practicing doctor with her own practice, it's time for her to spring into action. But what she has planned for a long time threatens to go wrong the very next day. Without knowing it, she has fallen in with far more powerful people than she first realized, and when she is forced into a unforeseen work arrangement, she fears the worst. What awaits her is an insufferable playboy named Finnick Odair. What he's actually up to she doesn't know yet, but she's about to find out. Or how Finnick Odair meets someone in the hated Capitol who could change his life forever. word count by now: 376k

Chapter 1 - Him

Chapter 2 - Her

Chapter 3 - Lost at sea

Chapter 4 - Swimming against the current

Chapter 5 - Dark waters

Chapter 6 - How waves meet the shore

Chapter 7 - After the storm

Chapter 8 - Sad like the ocean

Chapter 9 - The color of the unknown

Chapter 10- A spoonful of sugar against the pain

Chapter 11 - Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

Chapter 12 - The young, the bright, the fair

Chapter 13 - Matters of the heart

Chapter 14 - Swimming in the frozen sky

Chapter 15 - Beneath the surface

Chapter 16 - Cold snow, warm memories

Chapter 17 - Just a game

Chapter 18 - Sea-weary soul

Chapter 19 - Message in a bottle

Chapter 20 - Green and Blue and White

Chapter 21 - Two gentle souls

Chapter 22 - Of pirates and wallflowers

Chapter 23 - He who strides on the waves

Chapter 24 - At the bottom

Chapter 25 - Victory and Defeat

Chapter 26 - Lighthouse

Chapter 27 - Spring and new beginnings

Chapter 28 - Present for you

Chapter 29 - Girls' Talk

Chapter 30 - Painting secrets in the sand

Chapter 31 - The Fischer's Boy

Chapter 32 - The art of healing

Chapter 33 - Fun in the sun and one shocking realization

Chapter 34 - Salty but sweet

Chapter 35 - I love him, I love him not

Chapter 36 - Pride, honor and sacrifice

Chapter 37 - The world of a victor

Chapter 38 - What's in a name?

Chapter 39 - And so it begins

Chapter 40 - A dangerous darkness

Chapter 41 - The face behind the mirror

Chapter 42 - Cloudburst

Chapter 43 - My crying hero

Chapter 44 - Neptune in 4th house

Chapter 45 - Over at last

Chapter 46 - A wild night out

Chapter 47 - Awakening

Chapter 48 - To the sea, to the night, to happiness, to death.

Chapter 49 - Walking over glass

Chapter 50 - Love is a tough business

Chapter 51 - Rules, and those who break them

I will add to the list whenever I finish new chapters.

~~~

Image source for my dividers: freepik

#finnick odair #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #the hunger games #hunger games #the hunger games x oc #hunger games fanfiction #finnick x oc #finnick odair x reader #thg finnick #ao3 fanfiction #ao3 writer #thg fanfiction #fanfic

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planets-and-prose · 7 months

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Summary: As many of those who've attended one know, college campuses are some sort of insular world of their own. They're tiny communities, full of burnout, existential crisis...and, well, in the case of a mid-sized private college known for its environmental studies and biology programs, there are...things beyond human understanding.

In a series of short stories, follow five individuals in various stages of their own journeys as they band together to keep their community safe from any forces that choose to harm it, and attempt to better understand this new world that they've been thrust into. And...also, try to maybe not die in the process. That's important too.

Genre: NA...Urban Fantasy

Themes: Found Family (if I ever don't put that, please assume I've been replaced), the American college system, stages of life, personal growth, marginalization, lgbt+ relationships, community.

General Triggers: mentions of discrimination, probable violence, definite body horror (transformations specifically), general trauma, language, more will be added as discovered and all excerpts will be tagged appropriately.

Characters:

Dr. Semira Adams, a sweet 46 year old Southern environmental studies professor/monster hunter specializing in the...unique biological features of the surrounding forest and how it's shifting to adapt to them.

Briar Rackham, a 28 year old TA and graduate student for Dr. Adams. They're a model grad student--straight A's, volunteering with nature camps for kids in the nearby cities, working on an excellent dissertation, LGBTQ+ rights advocate...and a recently turned werewolf.

Also: Worldbuilding re: werewolves!

Achaemenes (Kay), a 24 year old super-super-super senior in pre-med who's delaying his studies as long as humanly possible. Because graduation means there's no excuse to keep away from his hometown, a tiny rural community that's a well-hidden cult, half-populated by fae.

Also: Worldbuilding re: fey!

Dawn Solace, a...well, her body is 21 but her actual age is 39. So let's go with 39-year-old vampire who continues to work with music and theater at this college that she now calls her home.

Also: Worldbuilding re: vampires!

Masumi Yoshida, a 26-year-old whose whole life is a lie. According to her family, she's working on two very intense double majors and holding down an excellent internship on the side. In reality, she works at the chain burger joint on campus, telling her coworkers that she had to drop out due to a family tragedy and is just saving to enroll next semester when that's the last thing on her mind.

Deborah McCaen, a 20 year old junior, dual majoring in history and anthropology, with a focus on oral tradition and mythology. After being homeschooled her whole life, she moved away to college and found a love in understanding the "demonic creatures" told of in the fantasy books she wasn't allowed to read as a child.

Writing:

Full chapters available here on AO3!

#continuing ed sots #wip intro #new wip #paranormal #supernatural #supernatural elements #werewolves #no vampires yet #yet #fey #fae #urban fantasy #fantasy #continuing ed: sots

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celestiall0tus · 3 months

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Miraculous AU Table of Contents

I need this. The search function is absolute trash and I'm not about to search through my posts to find this AU that's buried under months of other shit.

Sixteen-year olds, Marinette and Adrien, are chosen to assist the kwamis of creation and destruction in their mission. The kwami of transformation has fallen into the hands of a twisted, cruel heart. This man rises as Papillon and unleashes chaos on Paris. To stem the tide of madness, Marinette becomes Ladybug and Adrien becomes Chat Noir. Together, they battle Papillon's creations with the aid of their friends. But not everyone is quick to embrace the new superhero team and it isn't long until they have to face more than just Papillon.

WARNING: This is intended for an older audience containing mentions of trauma and abuse with a darker, realistic tone.

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 || Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || Chapter 21 || Chapter 22 || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 || Chapter 25 || Chapter 26 || Chapter 27 || Chapter 28 || Chapter 29 || Chapter 30 || Chapter 31 || Chapter 32 || Chapter 33 || Chapter 34 || Chapter 35 || Chapter 36 || Chapter 37 || Chapter 38 || Chapter 39 || Chapter 40 || Chapter 41 || Chapter 42 || Chapter 43 || Chapter 44 || Chapter 45 || Chapter 46 || Chapter 47 || Chapter 48 || Chapter 49 || Chapter 50 || Chapter 51 || Chapter 52 || Chapter 53 || Chapter 54 || Chapter 55 || Chapter 56 || Chapter 57 || Chapter 58 || Chapter 59 || Chapter 60 || Chapter 61 || Chapter 62 || Chapter 63 || Chapter 64 || Chapter 65 || Chapter 66 || Chapter 67 || Chapter 68 || Chapter 69 || Chapter 70 || Chapter 71 || Chapter 72 || Chapter 73 || Chapter 74 || Chapter 75 || Chapter 76 || Chapter 77 || Chapter 78 || Chapter 79 || Chapter 80 || Chapter 81 || Chapter 82 || Chapter 83 || Chapter 84 || Chapter 85

Also available on Ao3:

Miraculous - Chapter 1 - CelestialL0tus - Miraculous Ladybug [Archive of Our Own]

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #au #miraculous au #alternate universe #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #table of contents #chapter list

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afreakingdork · 10 months

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Weak Spot Chapter 26

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Chapter artwork by @grievouslygreat ! They have ever so kindly offered to do these and you all should send that love right back!

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Intercrural Sex

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Last warning for the 🍋 under the cut. Minors DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: High heels, two dresses written in detail, panties plotted similarly, talk about having hair done, and expert make-up application described twice.

Fussing with your posture, you again changed how your butt was pressed against the couch’s arm. Unsatisfied, you looked towards the door with pursed lips as you stood up straight and turned to glare down at the offensive settee. It was the right height for a lean, but it didn’t feel luxurious enough. You needed this to be a show. You only had one shot and you wanted to make it count.

You wished there was a mirror by the door you were standing in full view of.

Clicking on heels that you were sure to regret, you did another turn and resisted running your fingers through your hair. You had spent an inordinate amount of time getting it done to mess it up. Even now the lingering scent of a hair salon and trademarked spray wafted down whenever you moved just so. It was made all the worse by how your face was also currently off limits. Several times now, particles had gotten into your nose and, not only were you afraid of sneezing itself, but any aftermath involving a tissue was lethal as a near equal amount of time had been spent seated while your roommate did your make-up.

Not a professional by any means, your roommate had gone all out on your behalf. It wasn’t something either of you had put into words, but there was a shift occurring in your friendship. It was like you both could sense how serious your relationship with Donatello was getting. With moving in the next logical step that meant you and your roommate would be separated. However real, it felt all the more silly considering you still heated at the mere thought of living with Donatello. His earlier estimation of how you split your time evenly between his and yours was rapidly shifting to just his. Already, in passing, you would see your roommate and the catch-up conversation never felt like enough. Someone always had to go and you’d inevitably be left grumbling about some titular fact you hadn’t shared. There was still texting, but it paled in comparison to hearing her tone aloud.

It had made your day of preparations especially nice when she’d cleared her schedule to join you for it. Your roommate made the hours at the salon easier by parking herself right at your side and rifling through the stylists cubicle whenever they weren’t looking. She’d then acted as a terrible body guard for your hair alone on the way back to the apartment where she had then asked how you were going to do your make-up. She’d allowed you a single syllable before interrupting to declare herself your artist. Soon the entire living room was covered in both your combined products. Laughing led to touch-ups, but overall when she’d ushered you into the bathroom you nearly cried at your reflection.

Her scolding had been severe, but it was the delicate touch she’d exerted otherwise that highlighted just how much she cared. Her own style was garish colors done however she pleased. You, yourself, had been planning to do a quintessential night out look, but she’d subverted it all. You’d found your features highlighted in an understated way that screamed high class chic. It was effortless while accentuating your features and spoke to how she saw you. She knew your colors and contours to a T. You’d ignored her screeching protests to hug her. Still deafening one of your ear drums, you couldn’t help but feel how strongly she squeezed you back.

It almost felt like a goodbye.

Not lingering on it, she’d even inserted herself into your changing process. This time, instead of interrupting, she simply gleamed at your choice. She only needed to help you put on your longest winter coat in an attempt to stave off what was surely going to be a hellish trip over to apartment four. It had ended with little pretext as she walked you down to a cab and slammed the door as hard as she could while pretending to sob like a mother sending her child away. You saw her laughing in the rearview as you’d driven off.

All of which had brought you to Donnie’s apartment, where you were still primping for his eye. With all the time you’d spent getting ready, you’d still managed to get to four before he arrived. According to his texts he’d been having an issue picking up his tux and you had a feeling he’d been roped into something by the old woman at the cleaners. Responding to him to say hi for you, he basically confirmed it with the passive nature of the thumbs up attached to the message. Squirming, you tugged on your hem and gave up your spot as anxiety begged you to check a mirror. There was a nagging feeling that, even though nothing had happened, you felt like a secret bucket of water had ruined the carefully crafted look.

The mirror said otherwise and a flood of pride hit you. Giving into it you surveyed what wasn’t clipped by the counter; the dress you’d chosen was probably meant to be worn as a top. Its hemline sat exactly over your crotch without even a single centimeter to spare. It was a nerve-wracking piece without question as every step was a chance flashing waiting to happen. You’d only barely circumvented the act by putting on your most lavish pair of underwear. If you were going to give them a show, then you figured you might as well go all out.

From what you could see in the mirror, your neckline sat dangerously loose with only a single tantalizing string holding the affair around your neck. The fabric slinked and bagged into two vague chunky triangles that gave cleavage from all angles. Unable to wear any sort of bra with it, you gave a turn to find you especially liked the side boob and decided to engineer it into your pose. Leaving the bathroom to implement, the evening stream of orange light bounced off the silvery sheen on your dress. You were pleased with how it clung as you moved and left near nothing to the imagination.

Donnie had said the event was black tie, but he also impressed upon you that this was going to be your reveal.

You had prepared him one of his own.

Having dressed up three times that of either of your first dates, you relished in the many possibilities of his reaction.

Settling with one butt cheek to the couch’s arm, you bent your knees and sent them off to one side. It gave a rebellious amount of thigh and a hem about to pop. Adjusting your upper body to arch without making it too obvious you were going for allure, you heard the lock click. The sudden rush of excitement at your boyfriend coming home made you forget whatever you meant to do with your torso as you bobbed with a giant smile.

The door opened and he shuffled in with his head down. “What an irritating delay.”

“Yeah?” You tilted your head cutely.

He juggled bulky plastic of what was clearly a suit with one arm and a near reflective pair of black oxfords pinched in his other. “I’ve adjusted our timetable and, if I change in the next five minutes, we should keep-” His head raised up and he glimpsed you out of the corner of his eye as he hung the dry cleaning hanger on the coat rack. “-our…sche…” He slowly lifted out of his hunch to go razor straight and gawk at you openly. “…dule…”

“Five minutes, you say?” You tried with every fiber of your being not to giggle. A mischievous grin wrinkled your lips.

“What are you…?” You watched his gaze drop and he raked up every inch of you following a line from your heels to your face.

“Oh this?” You looked down at yourself. “I dressed up! Too much?”

He reached you before his shoes hit the floor. The clatter of them echoed as the lightning maneuver was greatly contrasted by the hesitation he had in taking your face. You dropped your cheek into his palm and his gaze nearly scalded you with its intensity.

“Do you like it?” You lowered your lids in a flutter. “I spent all day getting ready.”

Dropping from what must have been him searing this version of you into his memory, he looked down with his new vantage point to where you could feel the fabric barely covering your erect nipples at his attention.

“I wanted to stand out at the soiree.”

You watched the last word strike him like lightning and the next time he was able to wrench his gaze back up to your face, there was a palpable anger there. “You jest.”

“That good then?” You hated how the sex appeal you were trying to maintain was undercut by tail-wagging excitement.

A single stunted laugh left him and he seemed to forget whatever care he’d been exerting towards maintaining your image. The hand at your cheek turned into a harsh palm gripping your jaw to set your attention squarely on him. His other hand traced over your bare arm, up the bulb of your shoulder, and along the blade until it hooked the string holding your top up. “Charming.”

“Hm?” He squeezed and you winced around the dueling emotions he gave off.

“That you think…”

The twine of your top snapped and you felt the fabric cascade down your breasts.

“I would ever allow…”

His nose nearly brushed yours as he snatched up a fallen triangle. You gasped as the dress pulled taunt on one side of your body before an audible cry of fabric became a backdrop.

“Even a single being to see you like this…”

The hand left your face and you felt him toss something to the side. Unsheathed, you imagined the rags of your dress as Donnie closed the little space between you so fast that the couch squealed against hardwood as it was shoved back at least a foot. Your body teetered on the arm and the flat of one of his palms pressed warm into the small of your back to keep you upright.

“And live…”

You bit your lip against the hot puff of air from his last syllable before his lips crashed into yours. Shuddering as he encircled you, you did your best to reciprocate by wrapping your arms around his head. His tongue drank you in and, in a tilt, he poured himself over you. In a tug, you yanked his mask clean off which sent his glasses flying. He gave a growl that drowned out the sound of them landing and involuntarily bucked which caused the couch to screech again.

The noise must have annoyed him further because he yanked away from your lips with an audible pop. With a scowl, he stepped back before dragging both your hips and the couch flush to him again. Newly in place, an arm snuck between you where he hooked one of his digits into the crotch of your underwear. Thinking he meant to push them aside, you spread your legs only for another audible rip to occur as he painlessly snapped them free from you like they were made of tissue paper.

“H-hey!” The top was one thing, a piece you’d never worn before, but the underwear were special.

“I’ll buy you another.” His lips caught yours once more and you swam as he dominated the exchange.

Unable to respond there in a way you wanted, you turned your attention to shoving his coat.

He smiled against your lips and broke contact to string kisses down your jaw. His grip loosened and with another push the outer layer left him. You felt him kick back, presumably pushing the fabric away, before he returned to you. You caught him by the throat and he nipped at your ear curious as you jerked on the collar of his turtleneck. The cloth gave with a popping whine that said you had stretched it out beyond repair and he pulled back to give up an impressed look that shot straight down to your bare core.

“More like…” Maintaining eye contact, he reached up to cover one of your hands. He then curled his fingers over yours and used them to tear the sweater straight down from top to bottom. “This.”

It was your turn to slam your lips into his and he leaned back from your sudden force. In a jostle, the residual shreds of his top came away. With your heels already scraping his slacks, you both fought to get his belt off between bites and licks to available skin. As soon as the bundle of his pants hit the floor, the tip of his cock was pressing into you. You let out a small moan as he introduced an entirely new wetness outside of what you’d built up. Wondering if it was pre-cum, and turned on by the thought, you rolled your hips forward off the arm. He caught you as he sheathed himself and you both panted there, foreheads pressed together, before he nosed for your attention.

What you saw in his gaze screamed ‘love’ which caused both your heart and nethers to clench. This time when he returned for another kiss, it was slow as if he savored every millisecond. You mewled at the change as his hips rocked a shallow motion against you. Full and stimulated, he shifted the angle until your lower back sat on the arm and he could cascade over you in a nimble bend to suck hickies into your collar.

“D-Donnie!”

“For my eyes only.” There was a gravel to his voice, but the intent was clear.

His cock scrubbed inside of you, switching angles only a millimeter at a time.

“I’m going to make you reek.” Rubbing his face against your chest, your back bent and your head tipped until the top brushed a couch cushion.

“I-I-” You wrapped your legs around him and squeezed tightly, unsure of what you were trying to communicate.

“You’ll smell only of me.” He was in motion and you had to cling to him as he crawled over the arm, onto the couch, all while keeping his sex flush to yours.

A contented high note was coaxed from you as he took the utmost care in laying you out comfortably.

“Every yokai and mutant with even an inkling of hyperosmia will know who you belong to.” His lips pressed in a similar way that his knees sank into the couch cushions. His thighs created a slant seat which he sat your ass on for the first short thrust. Your cries were muffled as he stole kisses. You recouped what you could in between rolls of his hips.

Unsure of why, he slowed further, turning the otherwise bright scorch into a lingering coal that glowed. The type with heat that would persist for hours, he turned what had started out as a sudden fucking to intimate lovemaking. It made each movement all the more acute as in an affectionate drag, he brushed his thumbs over your cheeks and smoothed out your hair. Now breathing easily beneath him, you were flooded with love as you mimicked his trail in return. Only a few months since the grand reveal and Donnie still preferred to wear the mask and wraps over not. Seeing him openly like this compounded the swell of your heart and you greedily drank in his visage.

Something about your attentiveness caused him to smile and you couldn’t help but mirror it. His grin spreading, he went to bump his snout to your nose during a comfortable thrust, but the movement disrupted his journey. He nudged your cheek as if he hadn’t missed his target and you laughed. The sound was a bright tinkling and you heard the soft sounds of him giving his own. You quieted to listen in and it must have been too obvious because he stopped to give you a scorned look. The giggles overtook you and he laughed openly. Staring on with wide eyes, he then came down to peck your cheek. Overwhelmed by the perfection of the moment, you rolled your hips into his to keep him from noticing the happy tears building in your eyes.

Cradling you close, he met your strides while supporting your neck in a move further up the couch. With the top of head nearing the other arm, you surveyed as he shifted into missionary. Legs reeling him back in from where he’d come away to adjust, he scolded you with a quick kiss before gently brushing the head of his cock into your g-spot. Without the usual rapid pistoning, you could feel the flat side of his glans building up pressure where your heart was already bursting at the seams. Slipping your fingers over his shoulders, you barely brushed the upper rim of his carapace. Instead of the hesitation you expected, he simply captured your lips and leaned into your touch. Imagining the metaphorical cherry drop onto this instance’s saccharine pie, your digits curled over the edge.

What you found there was coarse leather with barely sharp bubbling. Not one to jeopardize what you’d been offered, you spread your fingers out instead of holding on. Donnie rewarded the gentle move by speeding up the tiniest amount and you bite your lip against the friction. Finding rhythm, the couch made light noises of complaint in opposition to the act it wasn’t sanctioned for. Precipice coming, you held onto each other through a kiss which sent you over when lips renewed it. The knot soon swelled and chased your first spasm, carrying you through. Similar to the tonal shift, your orgasm’s intensity wasn’t one to rank, but its length seemed to stretch on as if trying to match the many languid pumps of semen coming from your partner.

You were both still twitching when he began to pull away.

“Please let me say it…” You whispered, pouring endearment into your expression.

Almost reluctant, Donnie dipped down and nuzzled the side of your neck while shaking his head.

“Donnie…” You whined, a protest with no heat.

“I know.” He mouthed over your skin before looking you in the eye. There was clear hesitation there. “I hear it without you giving it voice.”

“You too…” You mumbled and stroked where your fingers were still hanging onto his shell.

He gave a faint nod that he tried to hide under another scrub against your throat.

You smiled and thought about how, with your chests together, close your hearts were.

Eventually, he made the barest noise of annoyance before he sat up. Your arms fell back to your chest in a lazy heap as you watched him. He was markedly careful with your hips, keeping himself buried, as he surveyed you. He then cracked a sleepy smile which you returned.

“I have gifts.”

Lids heavy, your eyes snapped open like a cord pulled too fast on a set of blinds. “Wait, what?”

He ignored your question and held out a hand. You took it curiously and he was methodical in pulling you up. Clearly doing his usual work of keeping you full of his cum, you leaned into him, catching on that he wanted to relocate. “We’re heading to the bathroom.”

You nodded and tried to keep your limp legs locked as he made the quick transport. He was softening in the journey and with the first dribble, his super speed kicked in. In a blink, you were perched on the sink’s counter with a towel underneath to keep you from its cold. With your hips tilted up to prevent further leakage, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Donnie, what-?”

“I’ve been working on this for half a year.” He juggled keeping you hoisted with one hand and used the other to open a drawer below. “My measurements were accurate, obviously, but I needed to perfect the expansion mechanism for your comfort.” As he went on, you watched as he got distracted for a moment by what must have been a blob of white leaking from your cunt. His gaze snapped to your face as if it would focus him. “May I present…” Between his thumb and first finger sat a thin purple pill shaped cylinder several inches long. “…what I am simply referring to as the plug.”

“Plug…” You repeated and he brought it for you to see.

“Self explanatory as you may have guessed to prevent the dreaded waste we both detest.”

“We?” You teased.

He made a hum of agreement that spoke of how serious he was. “If I may demonstrate…” He flicked his gaze down to your core before struggling to return it to you.

You rolled your eyes into a nod.

Leaning forward to give you a kiss on the cheek, you felt the object probe your entrance. Swollen and sensitive, he pumped in gently against you until it slipped in. “High grade silicone…” He murmured into your ear before something seemed to activate. Your hands flew out, one grabbing the rim of the sink and the other him as it began to expand. “Ever adjusting; it will ensure not a drop is spilled.”

“Half a year?” You eyed him, body adjusting to the odd pressure.

He nodded, righting himself and studying the plug. “We’ll test it for a few hours tonight, but I’m keen on you wearing this to work.”

You involuntarily clenched and felt the toy move inside.

You hated the small moan it elicited.

His grin verged on wickedness. “I’m already working on a vibrational upgrade.”

“Mad scientist.” You put a hand to his plastron and he helped you sit up all while that researcher’s attention was trained between your legs.

“Why thank you. Shall I go into detail about how I created a mechanism to keep the seal water tight under an ever changing environment?”

“Maybe later, it’s been a long five minutes.” You joked.

He seemed surprised.

“Forget?”

He had the faintest tinge of nerves about him. “No, however…” His hands went to your shoulders.

“What?” The question popped out as he coaxed you to turn. With the mirror at your back, it only took seconds before you glimpsed what he was anxious about. Your coiffe was no longer set in an effortless tease and was instead the reality of what sex hair really looked. Those happy tears must have been shed because mascara openly streaked your cheeks. It was along those lines that your foundation caked and gave way to a smear of whatever lip tint had been applied. Your heart sank as you lifted a hand to touch the mess and came away with some on your fingers.

Donnie had started speaking, but the sound wasn’t reaching your ears.

He pulled you from the glass, but you continued to stare at the black smear on your pads. You saw all the time you spent with your roommate slipping away in similar streaks and rubbed the little blotch under your thumb. When your boyfriend’s existence only returned when a brush hit your scalp.

“I also…” He presented a spray bottle and you jarred away from him, unconsciously. He gave you room and you looked around to find a myriad of beauty products surrounding you on the counter.

“What…?”

“When I duplicated the stock in your bathroom, it wasn’t quite clear what was yours or your roommates.”

You looked up at him with widening eyes.

“I stored the surplus.” He adjusted his grip on the brush. “It won’t be exact, but may I?”

You gave a hesitant nod. “How do you know how?”

“With hair, I have little experience, but I understand the gist.” He cupped the hand with the brush over your face as he sprayed whatever was in the bottle on your head. “I’m adept with make-up.”

“How is that?” You wondered as he ran the brush through and worked out tangles.

“Cover up, disguise, accenting.” With you relaxing, he sped up his styling.

“It never occurred to me…” You mumbled quietly as his ministrations were comforting.

“They don’t exactly sell my shade at the drugstore.”

You gave a little laugh and he switched from repair to tailoring your hair.

“The residual hairspray should allow it to hold.” He gave a nod before rummaging through what was on the counter. He came up with what you identified as a makeup wipe and you closed your eyes. You could feel the affection radiating off of him as he tenderly wiped your skin clean. He then applied a primer with careful swipes before comparing several bottles of foundation to you.

“This is-” You caught your tongue to keep from saying the L-word.

He gave a nod of understanding as he applied a base coat. You watched him work with expert ease, only being forced to look away when he did your eyes. Beneath the orange shade of your lids, his dark figure moved and you imagined this is probably what he looked like when he was building one of his machines. That mechanic fantasy quickly asserted itself and the plug in you adjusted as you squirmed slightly on the counter. “Stay still…” He tutted.

“Yes, sir.” You crooned and set your jaw.

A brush momentarily paused at your cheek before continuing its glide.

“Was that something?” You wanted to crack an eye open, but he hadn’t given you the go ahead.

“We can explore it later.”

“Was it the authority or something else…?” You hummed.

“Y/N.” His scolding seemed amused. “You can open your eyes.”

You did so right away but found he was still in working mode and only checked how whatever he had done sat before moving to take the very tip of your chin.

“Lips, last touch.”

You parted them slightly for him as he brought up a reddish tinted stick. “You’re doing so good.”

He had to stop himself from the application and take a moment before he tried to get the make up to your lips again.

“Praise?” You guessed, resisting a smile.

“Later, I beseech you or you will not leave our bed until morning.” He swiped over your bottom lip, dotted your top, and mimed rubbing his lips together.

Shot with cupid’s arrow over his possessive pronoun, you followed his example with a hooded gaze. You then made an audible pop and showed him your lips before speaking. “Do we really need to go to whatever this is?”

“Yes.” He gave an affirming nod. “Look.” He gestured over your shoulder with his chin.

In a turn, you slowed at your reflection. It contrasted what your roommate had done, but it was work of a similar caliber. As if speaking to each of their personalities, Donnie’s style had you suited with more highlighting and a smokier mystique. “Donnie… Wow… I don’t know what to say!” You fondled for him and found nothing there. Turning, he was gone and you leaned forward to look at the bathroom door. “Donnie?”

“Second present!” He called back, seemingly around the corner at what you imagined was the closet. He then appeared from that direction with a small flat box the size of a slice of bread in hand.

“So the one inside me is one thing, but this looks like something else… You haven’t explained why?”

“The end of my illness.”

Combing through the insanity of that day, your gaze flew to his as you matched the box to the memory.

“The end is all I remember, though not why. I’m compelled to follow through, for whatever inane reason.” He held up the box and opened it in your direction. Inside, on a satin pillow, was a dainty chain that led to a simple locket. “In this case, it was less a foolish item and more one I wish I had considered myself.”

With him having held it out for an inordinate time as you stared, you animated to carefully slip your fingers under the silver. You lifted it and Donnie adjusted so it would easily come away from its packaging. You held it gingerly as if it would disappear and went to run a finger over what sat in your palm. A little purple light scan occurred there, reminiscent of his computer, and it popped open. “Hey… I said-!”

“Nothing advanced; it only opens for you.”

You gave an annoyed bob of your head, unable to reprimand him and only frowned on what you found inside. “It’s empty.”

Donnie had a reserved quality. “You’re…” Hitching with difficulty, he cleared his throat. “…the ‘presumptuous’ one…”

“A picture of us, please.” You snapped the locket shut and looked up to him expectantly.

There was a nod of happiness that he smoothed out quickly. He then reached and you passed him the necklace so he could put it on you. Latched in seconds, you were amazed he accomplished so quickly with his thick fingers. He then traced the chain and righted the pendant. He lingered there and you watched the fond expression on his face before he remembered himself. He righted his posture. “In an effort to not amend my earlier number, I have a few more things for you that I will not consider gifts, but instead necessity.”

“Donnie…” You huffed as he held out his hand. You took it and he steadied you as you hopped off the counter. Standing made the toy shift where you had all but forgotten it. Taking a cautious step, you could sort of feel it, but sensed you would lose track of it again.

He was monitoring and you gave him a reassuring nod.

“It’s alright. Getting used to it, but back to all this stuff… I don’t know how comfortable I feel about the gifts.”

He stepped backwards out of the bathroom and you followed to where something purple was laid out on the bed. “If it helps, the purchases were not done all at once. I don’t always intend to give them. They exist if a case ever arises.”

You tipped your head side to side thinking over whether that was okay. “Don’t make it a habit?”

“Amenable.” In several long strides, he reached the objects and pulled up a hunk of purple fabric. “If you don’t mind my color?”

“You consider that your color and not black?” You mused and approached.

He feigned consideration before offering you the piece.

“It looks kinda…” It seemed to be nothing more than a mess of ruffles with a boxy shape.

He made an amused noise before passing you a second piece of fabric. It took some adjusting with your arms full of whatever he had given you first, but you found them to be matching purple panties. From the center, they resembled a regular cotton pair, but the sides were an intricate and fine lace. It then had a detached waistband that was hooked with clasps giving it a garter belt appearance. “These are cute!”

“Strapless bra.” He noted before leaving.

“Where are you…?” You left the question hanging to instead headed towards the dresser and the drawer marked off for you.

“Tux!” He called and you heard the crinkling of plastic.

Shaking your head, you refreshed your deodorant before getting your underwear on. Donnie soon joined you putting his trousers on while you did a little turn in an attempt to glimpse the panties without a mirror. You could feel him leering and did a little pose that he made a satisfied grumble to before he cinched his belt loudly as if to cap off the affair. You picked up the fabric ball he’d originally given you curiously before he appeared beside you. Passing it off, he parted the ruffles with ease and held it up for you to enter. Sensing it was a dress, you bought your hands up and he slipped the piece down over you.

Feeling the fabric settled, you were surprised by the cut. The center was sewed in a sort of form fitting style that flared in a flattering way and seemed to be cut to your exact measurements. The ruffles now followed the hem comfortably and moved up through the sleeves giving them a dripping bell shape over your forearms. The actual neckline sat in a sweetheart, but there was a faux secondary one which was a latticing of fabric strips from your shoulders to your neck. Your locket cutely peaked through a hole as if that slat was created for that purpose.

“Donnie…” Your voice was watery as you rushed over to the bathroom to get a proper look. “This is gorgeous! What?!” You popped your head out to find your boyfriend only half way done with the buttons on his crisp white shirt.

He’d been watching you.

You gave a honeyed smile and came over to him with intent. He removed his hands and you did the rest of the buttons with ease. He then adjusted the sleeve cuffs and you fiddled with his collar. “Tie?” You asked with a tip of your head.

He gave a little nod and gestured to the pile from the dry cleaner’s he’d left on the bed. There you found a swatch of purple identical to your dress. You held it up as a match for him to see while staring at him dully.

“There was… a chance I would have overridden your decision.”

“Uh huh.” You responded, unconvinced and wrangled him with the rope.

“You know how to tie?”

“Yes.” You responded with a little ego as you quickly knotted it and adjusted the bulb comfortably at this throat before bringing his collar down around it.

He seemed to bounce into the fit before he dropped down and gave you a quick peck before rushing to get to his jacket.

Giving a few light chuckles, you smoothed your dress and caught sight of the shoes that no longer matched. Trading them out for a more sensible pair, you returned to find Donnie staunchly pressed and checking his gauntlet. “Is it uncomfortable?” You gestured to his throat as you drank in the black tie vision of him.

“Extremely, I despise the confines.”

“Why not say fuck ’em?”

He gave you his patented look and you shifted uncomfortably as you noted the wounded edge to it.

The scars.

You gave a sad nod. “So, tell me about tonight. I’ve got: black tie party and Grand Nexus Hotel.”

“We’ll be fashionably late though I loathe the concept.”

Still a little downtrodden, you resisted a laugh.

“A meeting of my… colleagues, to put it simply.”

Your eyes went wide. “It’s a work thing?”

“A transactional event for networking.”

Inside, you were leaping around the room. “And the Italian?”

“The preferred menu of the event. Chefs are flown in.”

“Cool.” You were decidedly not, but tried to play it off.

“There’s one last accessory you’ll need.”

You touched your gauntlet and necklace before looking to him curiously.

“I have a certain level of… clout… in my field.” He moved over to the closet. “By being my date you will be untouchable and can move around freely.” Opening a door, he gathered up something wrapped in a worn cloth. “However, I prefer precaution.”

You stared in amazement, not at what he brought over as he approached, but at the tidbits information you had long been starved of.

He unfurled the wrapping for you and in his hand lay two clear cut purple gems. The first of which was a long thin rectangle and the second was a small square bauble.

They reminded you of his markings.

“In actuality these are glow stones.” He touched the rectangle and it gave off a soft purple light. When he let go, it lingered until slowly fading away. “Touch activated, but that’s not how it will be perceived.”

You touched the stone to see it glow again before looking at him expectantly.

“You were left in the dark for legal ramifications.”

You nodded.

“Consider this diplomatic immunity.” He grabbed the square gem and, though there were no visible attachments, the rectangle came with. It dangled like an earring. Finding that to be purposeful, he then reached for your left side and the square bauble snapped to your ear as if magnetized.

There was no pain, but you still ran your fingers over it curiously. You felt the open space between the two gems and could tell when it glowed because a sort of hum came off of it that you could only tell with the new proximity. “How so?”

Donnie took a deep breath as if preparing himself. “This looks analogous to a common mind control gem all the way down to the light. If you are amenable you may play dumb if anyone asks you anything probing and the attendants will chalk it up to hypnotism.”

Your wonder turned to an adjacent flavor of dismay. “…Common?”

His gaze lowered. “The Hidden City is very similar to its above ground counterpart. In this case, they differ in how they openly flaunt their distasteful practices.”

You touched the earring again and the sound from it was sort of comforting. “They wouldn’t be surprised to see you do something like… that?”

Donnie softened. “I imagine they will be more perplexed regarding me having a date to begin with.”

You blinked up at him.

He kissed your forehead. “I’ll be throwing you into the metaphorical deep end tonight. Is this-” He touched your fingers over the earring. “-alright?”

You nodded quietly.

“Last chance to back out, though, unfortunately, I’m required to attend.”

“No, I’m ready… as much as I can for whatever it is I don’t know.” You gave a little shrug. “I’ll be safe-”

He gave a sharp nod. “Perfectly. I would say more so than on the New York streets.”

You put a hand to his plastron. “You’ll be safe?”

At first you thought he jokingly thought it over, but, as the point of comedy passed, you pressed harder. “In a similar vein, I’m trying to decide if I’m better off on the streets.”

“Donnie…”

“They know what’ll happen if they try to cross me.” He dipped down and added a sultry note to what you had a feeling was a very real threat.

You gave him a wary eye before sharing a small kiss.

“Shall we?” He offered you an arm and you steeled yourself before taking it.

Stepping out of Donnie’s car was like walking a red carpet event where the only thing missing were the paparazzi. An actual red rug rolled out to the street and what seemed like a never ending stream of identical human hotel employees buzzed about while serving every little whim. They took the car away and, while you gawked, Donnie didn’t even look at them during an exchanging of keys. With your arm hooked in his, he gave you a little tug just before you both reached the door and brought a hand up to adjust his glasses. “A little less conspicuous. You’re meant to be my captive.”

Glancing up at him, you saw how the move hid his lips. You gave a simple nod and wondered how you should act. Landing on a listless façade, the double doors opened and you reigned in darting your gaze around the warm red lobby. Workers took your coats and you kept your marvel to a minimum. You’d only walked through these sorts of hotels on the way to eat at their fancy restaurants a handful of times. Otherwise, this was all new as a veritable army of bellhops gestured towards an elevator. Donnie’s hand squeezed reassuringly over yours as you entered. A giant white form with sad eyes and an evening gown squeezed in with you. You tried to identify them out of the corner of your eye and could see Donnie trying not to smile at your plight. You pinched his arm and the corner of his mouth closest to you turned up.

His free hand came around as if to pet your hand but it was just a cover up as he started signing.

You leaned into him to watch and nodded when you picked it up.

R-a-d-i-s-h.

A little incredulous noise escaped you which Donnie whisked you away from right as the elevator bell dinged. Exiting in front of the radish yokai, you stalled at the expansive grand ballroom. A bar sat off to one side and many round clothed tables laid in a formidable formation. Music played as a melodic background from a live band, but it was the sheer number of otherworldly beings that had your eyes blown wide. Not sure which were mutants and which were yokai, you at first grouped them by what you knew. There were clear animal species dotted about in more or less humanoid forms. From there, the attendants either meandered in shapes of things you couldn’t understand or like humans with very slight tweaks such as unique skin colors.

In a sweeping move, you were ushered towards the tables where your enamored scan halted amongst the papale reaction to Donatello. You heard blatantly obvious whispers about you along with murmurs that seemed stunned to even be in a room with him. Fear being in a common element, it sent your gaze up to your boyfriend. He refused your gaze, but you felt a reminding pressure from his arm as acknowledgement. Jogged memory of the role you had to play, you relegated to an even stare as if you were disinterested. Trying to drown out the infuriating rabble, you studied the glowing green pillars lining the room.

“Well if it isn’t the Mauve Marauder!”

Making sure to slowly swivel your head, you were greeted by a hippopotamus in a sharp purple suit with red accents. His hair was slicked back and his beaming smile showed beneath his well trimmed facial hair.

“Ron.” Donnie addressed him.

“I always tell you Hypno is fine, eh Donatello?” The hippo chuckled before catching sight of you. “Why who’s this lovely creature on your arm?”

“My date.” Donnie tipped his head with a smug air.

Hypno’s eyes didn’t move from where he offered you a hand.

Thinking better of it, you idly reached up and touched your earring which glowed.

“Oh, I see! Wouldya look at that?” Hypno’s head tilted to one side where you watched him with what you hoped was a dull expression. “Isn’t one of mine. Have you been outsourcing?” He rose up and mimed elbowing Donnie though he didn’t make contact. “Whoever is undercutting me will soon be sliced in half, eh?!”

“Nothing like that.” The laugh Donnie gave was calculated and foreign.

“As long as my work is still your go to! Speaking of…! How were the streetlamps?” Hypno adjusted his posture along with his lapels, oozing pride. “Quite a lot that one. A real nightmare-!”

Donnie loomed with a dread inducing expression you hadn’t seen in months.

For what a large man he was, Hypno was suddenly dwarfed. “Q-quite! You dislike discussing business in public! My mistake!”

“How’s your husband?” Donnie changed the subject, tendrils of irritation still wafting off of him.

“Still not invited I’m afraid.” Hypno jumped on the offering and gave a heady sigh. “He’s a bit of a menace, but that’s why I adore him.”

“Could he not attend as your plus one?” The ease at which Donnie held the conversation was strange.

Hypno rolled his eyes over to Donnie as if he were sharing his woes. “It would be that easy, but he feels slighted if the invitation isn’t direct.”

“Warren Stone is a textbook narcissist.” Donnie made a non-committal noise.

That name sounded familiar.

Hypno stared Donnie down to the point where your nerves started to show. Then he burst out laughing and clamped onto Donnie’s shoulder. The sound penetrated your brain and, while you were grappling with how your boyfriend willingly allowed someone to touch him, you saw a newsreel run behind your eyes. It was one you glimpsed months ago at some bar, running footage of a heist committed by two mutants earlier that day.

“Hypno-Potamus.” The name came off your lips and Donnie dropped his gaze to you in surprise.

“You’ve heard of me?” Hypno preened.

One of Donnie’s brows raised minutely. “I suppose so.”

“Well that’s a good thing then!” Hypno released Donnie and smoothed his jacket.

“You aren’t in the market for an assistant.” Donnie loomed even though he was clearly taller than him.

“O-of course not.” Hypno shrank away and you looked between the two slyly. “I meant that we’re table mates.” With a large gloved hand, he pointed towards a table.

You tracked it to find that at each finely crafted place seating had a little name card on it with intricate gold cursive.

“Will they call upon you?” Donnie didn’t look and instead kept lauding whatever power he seemed to have over the hippo.

“Only the bigwigs tonight.” Hypno recovered a little. “Such as yourse-”

“My date has a modicum of free will.”

“Oh?” Hypno eyed you again.

Donnie’s arm came away from yours and he stepped into Hypno’s space. The hippo once again tried to make himself smaller as Donnie whispered something to him. A rapid fire nod came as a response before Donnie took to you.

“We must continue the mingling charade.” Donnie threw the icy line over his shoulder.

“Of course.” You saw Hypno lower his head as you left. “We’ll chat more over the first course, yeah?”

Donnie’s cold shoulder was read bitterly as you moved from mutant to yokai. The veneer he put on was one that reminded you of your upper management at year end parties. They liked to pretend like their offices didn’t encompass entire floors and their by-second pay rate didn’t nearly exceed your yearly salary. It was a class chasm that they traversed with a businessman’s bland exterior. They’d ask about your shoes without looking down and tell you how nice they were while mentally calculating how much of your labor would get them their next yacht.

Having trouble imagining Donnie as one of those balding white men, you tuned out the plastic conversation for the real undercurrent lurking around every bend. If you could hear it than surely Donnie could. It meant some sort of strange decorum was being held. Donnie had mentioned something about other yokai and mutant scenting so you assumed their ears were also similarly fine tuned. It made no sense then why they played these parts if, by the second they parted, they’d do nothing but shit talk each other in ear shot.

“Donatello with a date?”

“That monster?”

“Did you see the earring?”

“Ah, that must be it.”

“Mind control.”

“The smell of them…”

“Of course!”

“A true fiend.”

“Makes sense.”

“How else-?”

“It’s the only way-!”

“Otherwise why in the hell would someone agree to go with him?”

Fifteen schmoozes deep and you were pulling Donnie away in a fury. He easily made the maneuver seem like his idea as he led you over to what was clearly a comically placed fire extinguisher on the wall.

You had seen a yokai fill his entire party’s glasses with water he pulled straight from the air.

Codes and regulations meant nothing here.

Standing in front of your boyfriend, stewing, you reached up and eased your grip as you latched onto his shoulders. He leaned down close to you and you massaged the muscles there, playing your part.

“Problem?”

“Why do you let them talk about you like that?” Through your anger, you despised the watery quality your eyes had taken on.

He reached up fiddling with your earring, but you could tell it was another move to disguise his lips. “Because they aren’t wrong.”

“Don-!”

“I’ve never once attended with a date and I don’t have a pleasant disposition.”

“But you’re still acting!” You complained and stepped a little closer.

He smoothed a hair on the nape of your neck. “I’m showing face as necessary. It’s an asinine social contract that I must enter once or twice a year. It’s a necessity to maintain my lifestyle.”

“I’ll pummel each and every one of them…” You grumbled, very much wanting to hug him.

“I’d like to see that.” He gave an amused chuff and you could tell from his eyes he wanted to do something similar. “We just got here. By my calculations, we need to make it through a few courses, approximately three dances, and then we can leave.”

“Dances?” You chanced a look at the room and, besides seeing red at a few mutants blatantly staring back, there didn’t seem like enough room.

“In front of the band, those tables are simply for show. Once dinner is started, if you pay attention, you’ll see waiters removing them in what they believe is a covert maneuver. It’s all quite amateur.”

You couldn’t help but soften at his description. It spoke of the many times he must have repeated the same process. “You find these real tedious, don’t you?”

“I would rather chew my remaining foot off than listen to Hypno prattle on about his worm.”

You bit down on a laugh and a clear sound of a bell cut straight through the chatter. The crowd moved in a leisurely manner towards their places. “A literal dinner bell?”

Donnie gave you an amused look as you released him. He then allowed you an open turn as you headed back to the table with him in tow. Seated straight across Hypno, two other yokai were already craned backwards to talk to their friends at the table adjacent. It left the hippo all alone and you couldn’t help but feel a tug in your chest at his solemn expression.

“I saw…” You checked with Donnie who was laying his napkin into his lap. He gave you a sly glance and continued preparing his place seating which you took as a go-ahead. “... you on the news, actually.”

It took Hypno a moment to realize you were talking to him. He then perked right up and his eyes nearly sparkled. “Did they get my good side?”

“It was some blurry clips of the robbery…”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s what I was afraid of. If you were to have a front row seat then you would see the showmanship! Maybe it’s a holdover from my previous profession, but I see villainy as so much more than evil acts!”

“Villainy.” You repeated and tried to glance at Donnie, but a set of waiters rounded you. They were very unlike the human clones you’d seen in the lobby and each seemed to be a unique type of yokai. They set an antipasto plate in front of you which Hypno crooned over.

“Yes, you see it’s very much like the balance of this meal.” He swept a gloved hand over his dish. “You start with light fare and the palate in mind whilst preventing a premature filling of the tum!” You watched as a dish of olives disappeared from his plate and then with a wide gesture, they appeared in his open hand. “In the same way as one would go about a break in. You don’t jump directly to your grand finale!”

You nodded and nibbled on finger foods as Hypno went on to explain nefarious deeds, perform stage magic, and eat all at the same time. You were oddly entranced though hung up on how unsettling it was that he openly admitted to all his wrong-doings. It was further emboldened by the fact that your tablemates, however distracted, weren’t sharing your sentiment. You had to really think, but you sort of remembered having seen Hypno off and on over the years. It was mind boggling that he’d never been captured. The more you thought about it, the more you realized you’d never seen any mutant imprisoned. No matter where they fell in the penal system, you doubted they were just chalked up to an oddity of New York after the alien invasion. Not with the amount of property damage they caused.

Otherwise, Donnie glowed to your right where he was basking in a reprieve in conversation. You couldn’t deny that Hypno had an endearing quality to him. He asked about your work and Donnie didn’t seem put off when you described your office job. Hypno seemed to pity you and mentioned his human cousin did something similar as a consulate worker for New Zealand. You then shyly asked about Hypno’s own time as a human after placing him as a mutant. He was pensive for a moment and you were almost afraid you’d overstepped some unseen line. Instead, Hypno softened up as the next course was brought out.

“I can’t remember the last time someone genuinely asked.” Leaning over his plate, you saw a faraway smile.

You sort of wished you could pat the hippo’s hand.

“They never cared for magic, typical story. They wished I’d at least channel my theatrics into something marketable, but that wasn’t for me. I ended up coming to the States to make it and, wouldn’t you know it, it was troublingly easy to pick up an exotic animal for shows.”

Spooning from a cute cup of chicken risotto as the primo piatto, you watched attentively.

“Funny to think a piece of Doug will always be with me.” He pressed a hand to his chest fondly.

“Is that-?”

“The hippo, yes.” He nodded and shot you a bright smile.

“Do you miss New Zealand?”

“Sometimes.” His shoulders came up. “I’ve built a life here. The love of my life is here. I perform horrific impromptu shows of magic that are both staged and real… I’m… happy…” It almost seemed like he’d spouted the realization before it sunk in. Confirming his feelings moved him and he cleared his throat. “Enough about me!” Hypno waved a hand at you. “How did you two meet?”

Donnie shot a palpable glare across the table so severe the two yokai who weren’t even paying attention shrank away from the air alone.

“Sore subject, right.” Hypno played off the anger, sweat dotting his brow.

“Over sandwiches.” You said simply, finishing off your second dish.

“Oh?” Hypno shot Donnie a look that was impressed with your deviousness.

“That…” Donnie reached out and touched your earring with a weighty gaze. “…isn’t up for discussion.”

“Lunch?” You asked back, pretending to be dumb.

Donnie’s lip curled.

“A feisty one!” Hypno chuckled. “That suits you.”

Donnie had a bitter remark ready, but he was caught because by all accounts Hypno wasn’t wrong.

You sipped some water to keep from smirking.

A round of waiters came to clear the plates and Hypno mourned the loss as, in his reminiscing, his untouched plate was carted away. The secondo piatto came along with an extra employee who stood at Donnie’s side. Still in a foul mood, your boyfriend glowered at the yokai. “Now? Really? We’ve just been served the main meat course!”

The owl-man didn’t say anything and kept his chin raised in a professional manner.

Donnie wadded his napkin and threw it to the table before craning into your space with a harsh whisper. “I’m being summoned. I will not be long. Hypno will attend to you, but don’t you dare tell him a damned thing about me. I’m the one who will have to deal with him going forward and I prefer to keep that relationship professional at best. Otherwise, you have free run, just remember…” He tapped your earring and you could just hear the hum.

You gave a nod and Donnie leaned down like he was going to murmur even quieter commands into your ear as he cupped your head. You tried not to react when he snuck a kiss instead before righting himself with a bitter ice. You watched on as he followed the employee straight out of the room.

Hypno turned back in his chair where he’d done something similar. “I can’t help but ask and, you clearly may not be able to respond, but is there more there than he lets on?”

You didn’t say anything and cut into a braised beef that was fork tender.

“I assume he’s recording, but let’s throw a little caution to the wind shall we?” Hypno nearly giggled.

You tempered a sour glance.

It was frustrating to hear that “professional relationship” Hypno knew what you’d barely found out a month ago.

“He’s been a bit of a zombie to use such a garish term.” With a wiggle of his fingers you caught that Hypno felt there was a better word for it, but he couldn’t find it. “A ghost, perhaps…?” He thought it over before dumping his entire plate into his mouth and chewing with ease.

You reigned in your surprise into another bite.

“Either way!” He dropped his saucer down and dabbed his face with a napkin. “He was a husk before, but now there’s something in his eye! A twinkle? Maybe!”

It was getting harder and harder not to ask questions.

How long had Hypno known Donnie?

How was Hypno being a self-proclaimed villain related to Donnie’s work?

What was he a supplier for?

Was everyone here criminals?

Was Donnie-?

“I’m not sure, but I do know one thing!” Hypno’s voice brought you back and he had that warmth to him again. “You’re special.”

You sat back and stared at your plate as Hypno went on to describe how he knew Warren was ‘special’ too. A tiny part of you felt bad that his words weren’t penetrating your mind, but at the same time, everything felt a little off kilter.

Pushing to stand, Hypno’s voice finally reached your ears. “Something wrong? Is it the food? The green beans were a bit dicey! Should I call a waiter?”

“I need a drink.” You slapped your hands to the table to stop him before pushing off.

“W-would you like me to accompany you? Dessert should be on its way shortly! We can get one of those fellows to get us something. After that is dancing! I may take up space, but that just means I have more room to shake it!”

“No.” You rounded the table and felt the two other yokai’s eyes on you as you approached Hypno.

The hippo froze up at your proximity and you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Did Don-atello, tell you to watch me?”

“S-sort… of?” Hypno glanced down at your hand as if you could kill him with a tap. “He… um well he…”

You tightened your grip a little and you thought Hypno might actually pass out.

“I’m at your beck and call!” He choked out.

You released and gave a small pat. “I’m going to get that drink. You stay here and save me my dessert?”

“C-certainly!”

“Thank you.” You left the hippo and the many whispers that chased you straight over to the bar. It was empty as everyone else was having their drinks brought to their tables and you sank into a stool with little grace. Folding your arms under your head and leaning on the pristine surface, you saw the back of the bartender who was shaking a drink.

“One moment!” He chirped before pouring said liquid into a glass with extra flourish.

A little chill ran up your spine.

He placed the drink on a tray with a receipt and you took note of his green hand.

Slowly raising up in your seat with thoughts of running, your lip quivered as he seemed to turn around in slow motion.

“What’ll it be?” Mikey had a gleaming smile and put his elbow to the bar before he caught sight of you. His anchor point gave out and he fell straight out of your sight. He came back up with a bolt and an accusatory finger. “IT’S YOU!!!”

Calm.

You had to stay calm.

Surely everyone in the room was staring.

Not like they hadn’t already.

He’d been so loud.

Regardless.

This would be a make or break it moment.

His fumble had given you just enough time to tuck your expression. Channeling all your will, you kept your expression neutral and stared at him evenly. “It’s who?”

Mikey’s arm didn’t lower, but his finger fell. He was dressed in a Grand Nexus waiter uniform with the typical additions a bartender might have. His hair wasn’t up in a bun and instead was curled to sit around his head in a protective layer. From any other angle it’d be hard to place him, but from the front, with his facial scar, he was unmistakable. “But you… huh!?”

“I’m sorry.” You reached up and brushed your earring.

Mikey’s eyes went straight to the shiny object and you watched his pupils enlarge like an excited cat’s. “Oh, you’re definitely who I think you are…”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping for.

Trying not to falter, you lowered your gaze with disinterest. “Do you have a menu?”

“Oh man, oh man, what do I do now…?” Scrambling in place for a moment, you glimpsed a bright orange cloth sticking out of Mikey’s apron as if it were a napkin.

They had to put their color calling cards somewhere, you guessed.

“No.” He stuck both his arms out and took a deep calming breath that pulled them back in. “Okay, so the Grape Gangster moved from kidnapping to brainwashing. That doesn’t change anything. There’s just a civilian to save now.”

“Is there a house special?”

As if by muscle memory, this seemed to throw Mikey off and a pad appeared in his hand. “Yes! We have a signature cocktail designed this evening by our boastful host-HEY!”

You looked up at him and put on blank curiosity.

“Look.” He slammed a hand down in front of you and it took all your willpower to not jump. “I’ve seen enough brainwashings to know that you’re still in there! I don’t… know if I’m…” He grimaced. “I’m definitely not the one with good vibes to reach you, but it doesn’t matter! Just… get outta here.” He leaned in close. “Soon! Like, real soon. Fourth song in fact!”

“Will they play something good?” You forced a question out.

Mikey was utterly crestfallen. “Okay!” In a twirl, he whipped up what seemed like a vodka stinger and placed it right in front of you. “If you’re really not in there, then you wouldn’t be suspicious at all and would totally take a sip of this!”

You stared down at the white concoction and internally paled.

He was absolutely right.

Even though you’d seen him make the thing from start to finish, there was no way in hell you were going to drink anything made by him.

It was already taking enough willpower not to out him to the room.

If they were all criminals, they’d probably all have beef with his bozo.

It’d be a nice confirmation.

Donnie would probably like your action as well.

Still, was that what someone under mind control would know to do?

Your cover was of the utmost importance.

Trapped, you lazily took the drink up in your hand.

Bringing the glass up, your mind flew with a thousand possibilities until it neared your lips.

There you froze when something hit you.

You could have cried.

You would have rather thrown the drink in Mikey’s face.

“Thank you.” You gave a little nod and scooted off your seat. I don’t really understand what you meant, but I bet this will go great with green beans.” You then turned without seeing his reaction and did your best saunter back to the table.

You could feel Hypno staring as you sank into your seat and set the drink down.

“Is that the signature cocktail?” He eyed it while licking his lips.

“Don’t drink it. Bartenders an asshole.” You looked down to see your plates cleared. “No dessert?”

“There’s a slight delay.” Hypno tipped his head back and you looked past him to see they were clearing out the dance floor.

“Can I be honest?” You looked over to the hippo feeling exhausted.

There was clearly a sting operation.

You decidedly did not have the energy to deal with it.

The only saving grace was Donnie wasn’t here to get wrapped up in it.

At least, you hoped that was the case.

Hypno bobbed in his chair which made a little noise of protest. “Why of course.”

“I zoned out when you were talking about Warren. Could you repeat it?”

A huge smile broke out on Hypno’s face and, it was so infectious, you let a little one leak onto yours. He began a tale that made the two other yokai groan about how colleagues became roommates and then more. Ricotta pear stacks were brought out and you marveled at how striking they were. Their tastes matched and you enjoyed Hypno’s version of a show in his grand tale of romance. Dolce soon wrapped and jaunty music started to fill the rooms for those not done with their cappuccinos.

You bobbed lightly to the beat and Hypno made a cute face as he looked between you and the dance floor with obvious intent. You laughed and got up while he excitedly hopped on the tips of his toes. He became surprisingly suave as he suddenly swung you out on the dance floor and through the first two songs you had fun. You’d have more with your actual date and it was only in spins that you check for him. Donnie had yet to return. A small lull came with the third song and Hypno dabbed his brow with a red kerchief.

“I’m parched, I’m going to see if I can get an alternative bartender to make us appropriate drinks! What do you say?”

“Sounds good.” You nodded, barely reigning in your joy where you’d been letting it leak out too openly.

Hypno seemed to catch the shift and gave a wave as he headed off. “I’ll be right back with bevs!”

You nodded and started to move out of the way of the other dancers when a tridactyl hand caught yours. Heart soaring, it being very much like Donnie to surprise you. He had impeccable timing as always with Mikey’s deadline looming for you two to leave. You wondered how you could covertly warn Hypno with the many ears as you allowed yourself to be spun until you pressed to plastron. Immediately caught by how there seemed to be two separate projections from the pectoral region, you blinked into a blue tie before your gaze shot straight up. With his arm around you and a top hat failing to conceal, Leo stared down with a wicked smile. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

You frowned before tucking it away by turning your head.

You had to keep cool.

Brainwashed.

You were brainwashed.

You weren’t going to grab the nearest chair and turn this dance floor into a wrestling arena.

You weren’t going to shove his stupid hat straight down his throat.

You were a doll with diplomatic immunity.

“You must be mistaken.” You returned with your calculated stoicism. “I don’t believe I know you.”

“Oh yeah…” He feigned realization before narrowing his smarmy gaze. “Mikey mentioned this.” In a swift sway that fell right in time with the music, Leo began to lead a dance.

You hated this.

You wanted to spit in his face.

Knowing what little you did about him, he was probably into that.

“Who?” You asked as the room spun around you.

“Riiiiiight.” Leo dragged the word out. “Play all you want. That’s a glow stone on your head. I didn’t spend years hanging out with an ex-pirate who makes great pizza for nothing.”

In a flourishing turn, you could sense how the other dancers were picking up on how expertly Leo moved.

A crowd was forming.

Cocky show off.

“I have a date.” You responded with a bit more venom than you intended.

“Yeah, that’s the other tell.” Leo visibly gagged. “It’s easy for Mikey to miss, what with the traumatic brain injury and all.” Leo’s jovial spirit dropped for a moment and grew hateful. “Ask your date about that, by the way.” He then spun you again and when you returned to him, he had reclaimed his conceited air. “Basically, he lost his sense of taste, totally tied into smell if you don’t know, which you might not care about because you’re apparently a big fan of ignorance in exchange for bliss, buuuut I don’t have that problem. Taste, smell, same coin, different sides. I’m rambling but-”

In a whip, your head jostled and when you came back the aftereffects made you a little dizzy.

“You reek of him, sex, and spunk.” With another gag, it seemed like Leo might release you.

You pulled to get away, but his grip grew tighter.

“Tut, tut!” He clicked his tongue in your face. “Mazel, by the way. Last time we met, you just smelled like him. Congrats! You’re dating one of the worst villains in the city, but at least you got laid, huh! Win all around!”

You lost the fight with impartiality and openly glared.

“There it is. Doesn’t that feel better?”

“Fuck you.”

“Not me. No thanks! Those aren’t even just sloppy seconds; you’re basically radioactive. I’d have to bathe in hand sanitizer.”

You yanked and, while it was useless against his strength, it diverted his attention so you could covertly kick into the knee you had once seen the brace on.

He made a face of sudden pain, but swiftly spun you out again in a dizzying move that had the crowd tittering. “I’m…” He choked.

You had never been more thankful for your observation skills.

“Look.” He pulled you flush to him and loomed overhead. “I’m going to give you one last benefit of the doubt. I can’t imagine anyone staying who knows the full picture and I know for damn sure that schmuck is keeping you in the dark.”

You dug your nails into his hand in an attempt to break free.

“Case, point.” Leo glanced at your cojoined hands before coming in impossibly close. “How about a body count, definitely not the good kind, and, let me remind you, this is just the small portion that we know of.”

You looked away bitterly.

“We can date one of his firsts to a kid, a girl, 16. Kendra Byerly. She had her throat ripped out.”

You shrank a little and Leo started the dance back up, but far slower than before.

“From there, it didn’t matter who. Young, old, they’d die gruesome deaths. As he advanced his tech, he’d test it out on those who crossed him or would be advantageous to eliminate.”

Looking down, you felt your pupils quake.

“Oh, how could I forget?!” Leo leaned back as if he was going to laugh before going ice cold. “Celebrity chef, Rupert Swaggart. Strangled with sausage casings.”

Your eyes shot to his.

There had been rumors and a circulated video when he’d mutated.

After that it was hard to believe any media on the matter.

The internet had never been the safest.

There was always a chance you’d come across snuff.

You could just hope it was faked.

“I’ve memorized each of them.” He did a gentle turn for once. “They’re a list of my-er-our failings. Failures to stop him. I had to… I had to make sure their names were burned into my memory.” He stopped dead and you stared at him wide eyed. “And these are just the murders. Not the trafficking, weapons sales, drug ring, political discourse, or any of the laundry list of shit he’s done.”

You pulled and Leo released one of your hands, but an arm was still around your back.

“They won’t mean anything to you, obviously, except one. I can imagine. I have one name I’ll to tell you, last thing, and then you can go. Run back to him, run away if you think you can, but I’m not going to remember your name. Guilty by association. Ruined by blissful ignorance.” He tilted his head menacingly.

“How can I believe-?”

Where had your voice been all this time?

“Wendell Creighton.”

You stepped back and it didn’t even register that you were able to.

“Thrown off his office building, made to look like a suicide.”

You tripped slightly and put about a foot of distance between you and Leo.

Reeling and seeing a phantom of Donatello knelt beside a bench, you looked up to see Leo staring at you evenly.

His gaze was pointed.

He knew that you believed.

His eerie silence furthered his point.

You were moving.

The exit was the other way.

There were a cacophony of whispers.

You covered your ears.

Glass shielding a dark sky approached fast.

Nearing it you felt your cheeks boiling.

Scrubbing at them hopelessly and feeling slick threads of liquid, you spied a door.

Running to it, you caught the handle and it opened easily.

Stepping out, you saw the blurred image of a swanky outdoor lounge.

Stumbling, you moved out of sight, passed the glass, and collapsed into the first sunlounger you reached.

You faintly heard a fourth song start before sheer chaos erupted inside.

Curling into yourself, you saw the blue tarp over and over again.

You saw Donnie in the rain, holding his umbrella.

Which was it?

I even lied to the cops today.

It’s too many unknowns.

“Y/N!”

Blinking for the first time in what felt like hours, you turned to find Donnie standing beside you in pristine condition.

“You’re…! Not… okay…”

Beyond him, you saw an orange chain glimmer within the window as it wrapped around a yokai and pulled them away from the glass. A huge glob of what looked like spider silk then covered that exact spot before more shots of the sticky substance started to cloak the interior.

Donnie dropped to his knees beside you, his gaze scanning nervously. “Y/N?”

“You killed my boss.” Your voice was hoarse.

It wasn’t a question.

You knew.

Donnie looked pale in the moonlight.

He didn’t deny it.

He didn’t say anything.

He knew it as well.

He’d always known.

You sat your chin on your knees hugged tightly to your chest.

“Blue bastard.” Donnie growled, his nostril flaring as he presumably picked up the scent.

He really wasn’t going to even try to deny it.

“Does it matter who told me?” You turned on him with an expression you could feel was manic.

He stared back with a flat one in return.

You barely knew the man beside you.

“Y/N.”

“I’m done, Donnie.”

His shoulders dropped on contact so sharply that his hands slapped to the concrete below.

“I can’t… stay in the dark any longer…” You looked out at the irony of the sky.

“I’ll tell you.”

You were slow to blink and when your lids dropped, you lowered your gaze. “Donnie, it’ toos-”

“If it’s too late, then I accept that, but I’m going to tell you everything. If you’ll listen.” He rose with a stagger and barely made it behind you. “You deserve that much.”

The sunlounger tipped from the poor weight distribution and you shifted away from him to right it.

“You are free to leave, as well.” A shaky hand pointed. “There’s a fire escape by that ledge.”

You stared where he’d lead and could just barely make out the hooks of the ladder.

“It makes more sense for you to take my flight shell. You shouldn’t have to climb down from here.” He prattled absentmindedly. “Also the car. I can arrange that. I just need…”

You pulled your arms tighter.

“Right.” He seemed to realize himself. “Not the point of one about to commit self-immolation. I just want to make it clear… you have a choice. You always have.”

You could sense him turn to you as you continued to refuse him.

Donnie was quiet for a long moment, with his hands in his lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see they were just touching at the fingertips and his palms were open to him as if their lines actually read the tale of his life. “I don’t remember either of my so-called births…”

Y'all know I gots to shout out my lovely betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83!

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