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littlejuicebox · 2 months

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Dadstarion prompt (sorry if I missed the boat on this!) - insecure postpartum Tav, struggling with their new body. Maybe some body worship from Astarion 👀? (Personal experience - I really struggled postpartum with adjusting to my new body, it changed in ways I never even imagined). Thank you and just want to say I love your Astarion 🥰

Adore You

Thanks for your request! Not 100% sure this is what you were looking for, but I already had a mostly finished piece I was working on that definitely fits the body-worship and Tav struggling with her body parts of this prompt. It's smut, though, and when the smut gods bless, I cannot deny their gifts.

Glad you love my Astarion! I adore him. And he adores his Tav. ;)

Summary: You are struggling with your post-partum body. Astarion is here to remind you that he still adores you.

This follows my Dadstarion section of my AstarionxReader series. But no worries, you can read it as a OneShot. Here’s the gist: Astarion is mortal and you have three children together. Gale, named after the Wizard of Waterdeep and the twins. That’s about all you need to know! See my other fics for more info and storylines.

Tags/Warnings: smut with a plot, body image issues, angst w/ comfort, PiV, fingering, oral, light overstim, light daddy kink, breast milk, breast milk drinking, all the depravity i'm generally known for tbh, light creampie kinda?

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: I'm an unhinged degenerate and no I won't apologize. Also women’s bodies are amazing and can produce life and are beautiful and my Astarion appreciates that about his Tav okay?

“Thank the gods for the nanny,” Astarion says with a dramatic sigh as he enters the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him, “Gale was about to make me read ‘P is for Peacock’ a third time and I was close to ripping my hair out, darling.”

You chuckle softly as your husband greets you from where you’re seated at the vanity with a brief kiss and then moves to the small table in the corner of your bedroom to pour himself a goblet of wine.

“And the twins?” He asks as his eyes watch the red liquid fall into the cup beneath it. He takes a few sips as you speak before setting the cup back down on the table.

“I’ve just fed them not too long ago and now they’re both asleep. Having Winifred to help me get them on the same schedule has been wonderful.” You respond as your husband nods and prepares a second, smaller goblet of wine, which he brings to you.

He settles himself beside you while you finish braiding your hair for bed and hums contentedly, “Perfect.”

Astarion’s hands wrap around your midsection and before you can stop yourself, you feel your body tense under his touch. The silver-haired elf pauses and frowns before retracting his hands, “Do you not want me to touch you, darling? You need only tell me.”

You sigh and shrug as you finish off the half-portioned goblet in one long drink, mostly to avoid your husband’s gaze, “It’s not that, it’s— it’s stupid.”

“Look at me, little love.” He whispers, his fingers coming under your chin as they gently coax you to face him and meet his gaze. He moves forward and presses a soft kiss against your lips before continuing, “I love you. More than anything. You know this. Now, won’t you tell me whatever is the matter so that I can help?”

Your husband waits as you gather your thoughts. It’s complicated, it’s embarrassing. You know it’s silly, and vain, and yet you can’t help yourself. And you aren’t quite sure how to verbalize it all.

“I hate my body.” You finally say, your voice cracking as you speak, and something about finally saying that evil little thought aloud causes tears to spring in your eyes.

Astarion’s mouth falls open in surprise and then he furrows his brows and quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, not knowing what to say or do apart from physically enveloping you in his love.

You continue on, speaking into his neck, sniffling as a few more tears run down your cheeks, “After Gale, I quickly returned to my previous weight. I hadn’t had any stretch marks. But carrying the twins— it’s different, Astarion. And I was expecting it to an extent but I just— I hate my body and I hate the way I look.”

There is a moment of silence as your husband simply holds you against him, allowing space for your tears. When he speaks, his voice is a soft murmur into your hair, “Not that you should care what I think, but I adore your body, darling. And I love everything about the way you look.”

You scoff and withdraw from your husband with teary, reddened eyes narrowed at him, “You have to say that.”

“I do not have to do anything,” He retorts, arching his eyebrow in a challenge, “Weren’t you the one that taught me that?”

When you don’t respond, Astarion continues on, knowing he’s won. He takes your hand in his, gently lifting it to press a kiss against your knuckle.

“I adore your hands. Which have both slain monsters and soothed our children,” He whispers before trailing kisses up your arm and to your neck where he presses another reverent kiss against those little fang scars.

“I adore your neck, which once provided me with sustenance I hadn’t known in centuries.”

Your face is beginning to grow hot under his devoted attention and compliments, and you move to shrink away from your husband, but he gently grabs you by the waist. He leans into you and brushes his nose at the meeting point between your ear and neck as he inhales the smell of your skin.

“Why are you trying to hide from me, darling?” He asks with a little sulky pout, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I’m not, I—“ You begin, but Astarion quickly shushes you.

“Then just be quiet and let me adore you, hm?” He asks before running his tongue against those fang marks, making you shiver.

You nod slightly and your husband grins, “Good girl. Now, come here.”

Astarion pats his lap and you slide to sit upon his thighs, forgetting your finished goblet on the floor underneath your vanity stool. He rests his chin upon your shoulder as the two of you gaze in the mirror together.

“Do you remember when I used to do this all the time?” Astarion asks, not truly waiting for a response before his long fingers trace down the side of your neck, brush along your collarbone, and then wander toward your waist, aiming to untie your dressing gown. He moves slowly and watches your expression in the mirror, waiting for you to give him any indication to stop.

But you didn’t want him to stop. Despite your feelings about your body, you still deeply crave your husband’s comforting touch.

The silky fabric slips down your shoulders and pools around your waist, baring you before his adoring eyes. The elf smiles and presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, still watching the two of you in the mirror.

“Beautiful,” He whispers as he peppers a few kisses up your shoulder and the back of your neck, igniting a trail of goosebumps across your skin.

Astarion slowly drifts his hands up your sides before moving to cup a heavy, milk-stretched tit in each hand. The sensation causes you to wriggle.

His tone is reverent, almost a whisper as he turns his head just slightly and flashes a toothy grin, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, “I adore your breasts, which have fed our eldest and now feed our twins.”

He chuckles salaciously before saying the next part, “And which, on more than one delicious occasion, have also fed me.”

Your husband lightly teases circles around your nipples as he finishes the line that he knows will cause you to blush and then gently nips at your ear lobe, earning him a gasp. You feel Astarion’s arousal pressing into your backside as he continues to caress your breasts and uses two fingers from each hand to tease and stimulate your nipples. You arch into his touch and your thighs press together as you feel a growing slickness between your legs from his attentions.

One of your breasts begins to leak milk, and when your husband feels the warm liquid dripping onto his fingers he hums and brings the digits to his lips. You watch in the mirror as Astarion dips the two fingers into his own mouth and licks them clean while continuing to tease your other breast.

It isn’t long before that one begins leaking, too, and your lover chuckles in delight as he watches the liquid gold trail down the bottom of your breast and languidly drip down your stomach.

The elf brings two fingers to slowly swipe up the stream of white liquid. Then he brings those same fingers to your lips, prompting you to open your mouth.

“Good girl,” He purrs before pressing those two digits against your tongue. Astarion lingers for a moment and you shut your eyes as you eagerly wrap your lips around his slender fingers and suck. You hear a little hum by your ear and feel your lover’s cock twitch in delight underneath you as he observes the scene.

“You are a vision, love.” He murmurs, as he slides his hand away from your lips, “Now, let me take care of you the way you deserve.”

The elf gestures for you to stand, causing your robe to completely slide off your body into a pool on the floor, before he quickly spins you and then hoists you onto the vanity desk. The smallest flicker of that arrogant rogue dances across his face as Astarion moves forward to dip his tongue into your mouth. He unhurriedly teases your tongue against his as he roams his hands up and down your torso until you're panting and moaning softly into his mouth.

When he retracts, his pupils are filled with lust. His hands come to quickly pull his shirt over his head and then undo the laces of his trousers. Before long he’s standing in front of you in only his small clothes.

Astarion grabs your hand and guides it to the bulge straining between his legs as he asks, “Do you feel what that divine body of yours does to me, little love?”

“Yes– my love, I want–” You begin as you eagerly try to delve your hand inside your husband’s undergarments, desperate to free his gorgeous cock. But he catches your wrist and stops you with a soft tut and a playful glint in his eyes.

“Soon. But not yet, darling. I haven’t quite finished adoring you yet. And I’ve got the best seat in the house.” He teases, before settling himself back onto the vanity bench and grinning mischievously up at you, “Now, be a good girl and open those beautiful, plush thighs of yours for me, won’t you?”

You oblige, and Astarion takes a moment to admire you, fully barren to him and already soaked with arousal. His arms come under your knees, spreading you wider for him, as he grips your thighs with his hands. Then he turns and begins pressing tender kisses up your thigh. He makes slow work of the task, humming contentedly on his journey toward your sex and always lingering longer in the spots where you’ve developed stretch marks.

By the time his face is right in front of your mound, you’re positively leaking for Astarion and he groans appreciatively at the sight.

“Beautiful. I will never tire of seeing that gorgeous cunt dripping for me, darling,” He murmurs and before you can respond, your husband is delving his tongue between your folds and eagerly feasting upon your juices.

You moan in delight when Astarion brings his tongue to trace around your clit, so familiar with your preferences that it doesn’t take long for him to coax you toward your peak. His tongue dances expertly around the swollen nub, each pass causing your pleasure to build. Two of his long, pale fingers slide into you, meeting no resistance, and he slowly pumps the digits in and out of your walls.

You grasp onto Astarion’s curls and whine when he adds a third finger, and he knows you’re close, so he continues his ministrations and adds more pressure as he curls his fingers just so. His other hand comes up to find your nipple and tease it between his fingers as you climb the final steps toward your climax.

A final flick of Astarion’s tongue, a final stroke of his fingers, and you burst with pleasure, whining in delight as your thighs tremble on either side of his head. Your walls spasm and send another gush of arousal onto the elf’s face. You begin leaking breast milk once again.

“Delicious,” Your husband murmurs as he pulls back slightly to admire the glistening of your sex and then presses forward and takes one more lap of your sensitive folds, causing you to buck into his mouth as he chuckles against you. Astarion languidly runs his tongue up to your stomach, lapping at the thin rivulets of milk running down your torso and covering his face in a shiny layer of your juices and breast milk.

Then he stands to his full height and finally— finally— steps out of his small clothes. His pale cock springs proudly from its confinement, dripping thin strings of pre-come from the reddened tip, just for you.

“Get over here, Astarion,” You eagerly demand, voice hoarse from your cries as you hook your legs around his torso and pull him against you.

“Anything for my little love,” Your husband responds, voice full of gravel as he runs the underside of his cock against your slit, using it to lubricate his length.

And then the head of his cock presses into you and your mouth falls open as Astarion buries himself to the hilt. His thumb comes to lightly tease your still-tender clit as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. He’s watching your face intently as he thumbs circles around that needy, engorged bundle of nerves.

You use your legs to pull the elf deeper and he grins before lowering his head so that it’s right by your ear. He takes the lobe in his mouth and suckles gently, causing you to whimper.

“You’ll do one more for me, won’t you darling? You always look so gorgeous when you do.” He coaxes, his mouth so close to your ear his breath tickles the sensitive flesh. And then he’s pitching his hips just slightly, aiming to hit your favorite spot with the tip of his cock. He’s gasping and grunting now as his own need for release starts to overpower him.

You’re almost there. You’re keening with each thrust from Astarion and your walls are clenching tighter and tighter around his cock.

He moans in response at the sensation before pressing his thumb harder against your clit and rubbing it with single-minded intensity, working you toward release. You begin to relentlessly whimper again and Astarion smiles, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches your face contort in the feeling of immense pleasure.

“There you go, little love. Let go for daddy.” He whispers, bringing his other hand to palm the ample flesh of your ass.

And gods, you do.

The second orgasm ripples through you harder than the first, and you have to clasp your hand around your mouth to stifle your moan. Your walls are pulsing around your lover’s cock as you ride the wave of ecstasy.

You go almost slack and before long Astarion is ripping your hand away from your face and pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss as he begins to rut wildly into you, shaking the vanity with every thrust.

“Gods, the things your body does to me,” He growls as he pulls away from your lips, snapping his hips at a punishing pace as he chases his own release. Astarion’s hand is clutching firmly into your bottom, gripping so tightly there’s sure to be bruising tomorrow. His curls fall in front of his face and his ears begin to turn red as he continues to fuck you into oblivion.

Your husband is trying with every fiber of his being to hold on, to stretch out the delicious sensation of his cock plunging in and out of your walls, but every stroke into your tightness is pushing him further and further towards his peak. He snaps his eyes shut, shaking with the effort it’s taking him to restrain himself, to continue enjoying the feeling of your flesh gripping around his.

You are so thoroughly fucked that you cannot do anything but hold onto your lover and keen underneath him as he continues pounding into you.

“Darling— hells — my love, you’re so tight, I can’t— I’m—“

And then with a sudden, sharp inhale of breath, Astarion is burying his thick length inside your walls and trembling as his cock twitches, relentlessly releasing its spend. He gasps into your ear as he slows his hips, but continues to rut, using his still-hard length to press his seed deeper into you.

His praises come out in an incoherent string as he continues to languidly rock his hips back and forth. You cup his face in your hands as you kiss him, and Astarion smiles into the kiss, finally stilling his hips as his cock softens between you two.

“Come here, little love.” He whispers, hooking his arms underneath you. You intuitively wrap your legs around your husband’s torso and he easily carries you to the bathroom. When he finally places you down, he brushes a few strands of hair from your face and then places a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He says, turning to start the tap before tossing a glance over his shoulder and chuckling lightly, “And then I have to fix your braid, dear… I’m sorry to tell you that I ruined it.”

“I think you might have also bruised my ass,” You respond, turning to flash your bottom at Astarion.

He drops down on his knees to examine the curve of your ass, one nimble finger brushing against the blooming blue marks. You let out a little whine in response, the flesh still tender.

Astarion presses his lips onto the bruise and lingers for a moment. Then he pulls away and frowns slightly, eyes glossing across the marks before he looks up at you and says, “I’m sorry, darling.”

“It’s okay,” You respond, glancing back to grin over your shoulder. You see your husband peering up at you, the picture of devotion, “I enjoyed it.”

“Did you, now?” He asks with an amused smirk, his eyebrow cocking in that signature arrogant way of his.

You nod just slightly as he places another kiss against those little bruises. His hands travel up your thighs, brushing against the wetness dripping from your sex and onto your legs. Two fingers tenderly stroke between your drenched slit.

“Hmm, and what do we have here, little love? Is this something else that needs cleaning? Won’t you let me take a look?”

You blush but oblige anyway, leaning forward over the counter and exposing your sex, leaking with Astarion’s seed and your arousal.

He grins and licks a long strip between your folds, causing you to buck slightly and whimper at the stimulation on your still-sensitive cunt.

“Too sensitive? Want me to stop?” He asks gently from behind you, one hand wrapped around your thigh.

“No, keep going.” You urge him, bending forward to further reveal yourself to him, eager to feel his skilled tongue pressed into you once more.

A small groan of appreciation from your husband is all you hear before he delves his tongue back between your legs, working to clean up the mess he made.

The bathtub overflows and spills water onto the floor before he’s done adoring you. At least for tonight.

#astarion fanfic #baulders gate astarion #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion smut #smut #bg3 smut #romantic smut #soft astarion #soft dom astarion #dadstarion #dadstarion fic #astarion reader insert

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underdark-dreams · 5 months

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Hello my dear! Prompt for you, what Rolan and Dammon are like drunk, what kind of night they had at the tiefling party on their own, how they are with an interested Tav that night (Rolan x Tav, Dammon x Tav, how they are with an interested each other (dammon x rolan), and how they are with a poly for the celebration (dammon x Tav x rolan) long one I know but damn you feed us well

[bangs metal pots together] Rolan x Dammon polycule lovers, come collect your horny boys!

Please be aware this turned to shameless filth at the end. I cannot be trusted with either of them, and especially not both. 👀 Credits to @turquoiseoverthesea for the lap sitting mischief!

Rolan & Dammon drunk at the Tiefling party: solo + poly HCs with Tav

(Tav is gender-neutral) - (NSFW under the cut)

Rolan solo:

Rolan wasn’t even sure he wanted to come tonight…but he found himself in a generous mood and decided to bestow his company on these rubes

Plus he doesn’t trust Cal to moderate himself or Lia to keep Cal reined in (oldest siblings have to do everything around here)

Ends up tipsier than either of them, though he’s decent at hiding it

You can tell by the way his hand gestures get more and more animated throughout the night

When he’s drunk: actually loosens up a lot in general, smiles and laughs more freely

Drunk Rolan is somehow even more self-assured and cocky than usual, yet simultaneously much more charming about it

Doesn’t realize how handsome he looks when he’s genuinely enjoying himself

Also gets more free with his spellwork once you get a few glasses of wine in him

Fends off Cal and Lia’s requests for him to conjure a whole menagerie of animal illusions, but if Tav asks, he won’t be able to say no

Conjures an owlbear and a tiger and maybe even a dragon if he feels like really showing off to impress Tav, much to the delight of any Tiefling kids who might be sneaking around the party

Even if he spends the night on his own, Rolan ends up having a much nicer time than he wants to admit. He’s a pessimistic worrywort at heart—taking an evening to unwind is honestly good for this poor guy’s stress levels

Cal and Lia are having a great time, too, and that makes Rolan truly happy. Just to see them both enjoying themselves for a change

If Rolan can work up the courage to approach Gale, he’d talk to him for hours about the Weave and spellcasting over a bottle of wine

Takes delight in finding such a highly educated magical mind here in the middle of this godforsaken nowhere (tries to play it cool for the sake of his ego though)

Dammon solo:

Dammon didn’t plan to go but changed his mind at the last minute when it sank in that Tav would be there

Before the party, he definitely sneaks off to wash up in the nearby river. The smell of smoke and iron dust in his clothes is pretty permanent at this point, but he’d rather make a tidy impression tonight if possible

Arrives with his hair still damp but pulled back into its neat topknot

A bit like Zevlor, Dammon tends to hover around the edges holding his drink at first, just taking in everyone else’s good mood tonight

His drinks of choice are at the opposite ends of the spectrum: prefers a very fine brandy or a common ale, nothing in between

Would politely accept a glass of wine if it’s offered but only sips it

When he’s drunk: gets very sincere and kind of intense

He’s the type to sit down to share a bottle and have a long, intimate conversation with someone for several hours, preferably Tav or Rolan. Both is ideal

You can tell Dammon has had a few when he makes really sustained eye contact while you’re talking. Sits a bit closer than usual to show you’re his sole focus right now. Combined with his striking eyes, it’s kinda hot

Also when he’s drunk the tips of Dammon’s ears flush a bright, ruddy pink

Dammon spending the night on his own—I can imagine it going a few ways, depending on his mood

If he’s feeling more cheery and sociable, Dammon might sit near the campfire to hear Alfira’s music and listen to his fellow Tieflings talk about their plans when they reach the city, adding encouraging comments here and there

I could also see him taking his drink and heading out for a quieter spot near the water

Dammon’s a bit of a loner with this group, always seems to keep himself apart from the rest of his fellow travelers. Maybe he enjoys working with infernal iron a little too much to mention in mixed company

Rolan x Tav:

Maybe if Rolan was sober he’d pick up on Tav’s flirting faster

Then again, maybe he’s so wrapped up in trying to impress them with his accomplishments that he doesn’t realize how well it’s actually working

Rolan’s probably out of practice with romance, or pretty inexperienced, or some combination of the two

Dropping hints is just not enough for this guy. He enjoys the banter with Tav a lot more than he wants to admit, but he’s got a mental block against taking it further

It will definitely take something physical from Tav

Making an excuse to touch his hands, or “accidentally” bumping hips or shoulders several times

Then there’s the direct route of “is this seat taken?”

Rolan will look up in surprise but gesture to the bench next to him. Then Tav plops down directly on his lap, and Rolan’s surprise turns into actual panic

Kind of holds his hands hovering frozen out to either side for a second, not sure where to put them even though Tav’s hips are currently snuggled up on his thighs

Torn between everyone here including his siblings seeing this blatant display of public flirtation, and the feeling of how nice Tav’s weight in on top of his legs

When Tav leans in to curl an arm around his shoulders, Rolan’s done for. Any thoughts of shifting them off his lap go out the window and he clasps his hands politely around the side of their leg

Rolan will try to maintain the conversation, but his responses get short and distracted. All he can concentrate on is Tav’s scent and voice and their face so close to his

He’ll accept a few kisses while Tav’s on his lap, but only the shortest, softest lip touches

If they introduce the slightest hint of tongue, Rolan will pull them away and clear his throat maroon-faced and ask which tent is Tav’s, and demand that they both please go there right now

Rolan follows them while studiously avoiding eye contact with anyone he knows

If he realizes Tav is instead leading him farther away from camp, the implication makes his tail flick with excitement

He’d love nothing more than to find a nice soft patch of grass and make out with Tav for an hour

Rolan’s kisses are eager and a bit sloppy at first. But he’s very teachable, both a devoted student and a quick learner

With a little guidance, before long Rolan’s got Tav making some soft and breathless sounds of their own

Tav sitting with their legs straddling Rolan’s thighs would really test his patience—if Rolan wasn’t hard from them on his lap before, he’s definitely hard now

Might get so excited he doesn’t ask before sliding his tail up their hips or wrapping it around their waist

Once he realizes Tav’s equally worked up, Rolan would encourage them to grind down on his thigh however makes them feel good

Adores getting to see the hero of the night pleasuring themself on his leg while his tail squeezes and caresses around their middle

Dammon x Tav:

Dammon is difficult to pin down for a conversation at first, let alone anything more

He keeps circling along the perimeter of the party, chatting politely here and there but never settling for long

He catches Tav’s eye several times but needs some time to work up the courage to approach them—the last thing he wants to do is monopolize someone so popular (even though that’s exactly what he wants to do)

But after Tav returns his looks enough times across the campfire, Dammon has no problem making the first move

He’ll probably lead with a question (enjoying the evening, need another drink, etc)

It’s a polite move but also to gauge Tav’s interest. Dammon knows he’s into them at this point, but he’s still trying to suss out their exact feelings

Once Tav starts dropping a flirtatious remark here or there in conversation, sparks are flying

Dammon can be so smooth when he puts his mind to it, and it’s not long before he and Tav are touching in some way

When he rests a hand on the small of Tav’s back and asks if they’d like to get some air, it’s fucking on

Dammon knows the area pretty well by this point—leads them to a nice secluded clearing that he stumbled on last week and mentally filed away for this exact purpose

Once they’re alone, calloused hands on Tav’s hips are guiding them gently back against the nearest tree trunk and Dammon’s lips are on theirs

He’s a very deliberate kisser, slow and tender but hot at the same time

If it seems like Dammon’s lips are following a predetermined roadmap down Tav’s jaw and neck, that’s because they are

Man has a notoriously healthy imagination and has been thinking about where he’d like to kiss them for a while

He waits for Tav to do anything below the belt first, but once Dammon feels their hands graze there he’s pinning Tav into the tree behind them with his hips

Grinds into them while he sucks on Tav’s neck, drawing as many delicious sounds from their lips as he can

All the kissing and heavy petting is perfectly delightful on its own, but if Tav asked him to take them up against that tree, Dammon would in a heartbeat

Dammon x Rolan

It’s no coincidence that Rolan and his siblings end up lingering near Dammon’s tent back at the Grove

Dammon comes across as the strong silent type, and as the loud not-so-strong type, Rolan finds that very attractive

But Rolan’s also trying hard to keep to himself and not stare. He only stares maybe once every few minutes, and only because Dammon’s toned forearms flexing and the way he grunts with each hammer blow are very difficult to ignore

For Dammon’s part, he’s fascinated and a little impressed by Rolan. Sure he’s got a lot of bluster, but Dammon’s seen what he can do with the Weave, and it’s definitely made an impression

At the party—Dammon will 100% be the one who approaches first

Not afraid of making his intentions known, Dammon gets Lia’s advice on what wine to bring and takes a bottle with him to break the ice

If there’s one thing Rolan’s good at, it’s conversation

But he keeps talking around things—though Dammon appreciates the clever whirrings of Rolan’s mind, right now he’s more interested in his mouth for other reasons

Dammon shoots his shot by brushing a “hair” from Rolan’s cheekbone with his thumb

There’s nothing there, but Rolan is too dumbstruck at the contact to realize. It actually shuts him up for a moment as they both stare at each other

To Dammon’s surprise, maybe spurred on by the liquid courage, Rolan is the one who suggests they take a walk along the river

They’re both buzzing with too much anticipation to say more than a few short words to each other as they walk. When they settle near the river bank, they’re stretched out side by side with hands braced on the ground just inches from each other

Unable to bear the awkward silence, Rolan opens lips to say something just as Dammon tilts his head over to kiss him

The result is that they’re tongue kissing almost immediately

Rolan groans and shivers so hard Dammon has to gently grip his jaw with a hand, keeping Rolan’s mouth where he can explore it

Before long their tails are tangled up behind them, twining and tugging back and forth in a way that has them both panting into the kiss

Dammon x Rolan x Tav

At some point in the night, Rolan and Tav got into a debate about one of those little things that seems so goddamn important when you’re tipsy. Dammon walked past and was immediately dragged in as a neutral party

But Dammon had a separate third opinion, which only made Rolan turn his arguments on the other man with much wild gesticulating of his free hand

Tav burst into laughter between them, and Rolan and Dammon both found themselves too charmed by the sight to care about anything else

From there the wine and conversation both flowed freely

Little, casual touches followed: fingers brushing together over a passed bottle, Dammon clapping Rolan’s back with a friendly comment—a move that turned more than friendly as Dammon’s hand trailed down slightly, causing Rolan to glance his direction with a flush in his cheeks

Eventually Rolan got bold and tried his own luck, sliding an arm around Tav’s waist while they were grinning at something he said. Dammon’s eyes flicked to the gesture immediately

After a trio of shared glances, Dammon broke the rather excited silence by announcing that he knows a place where they could find a little privacy

As the three of them enter the forest clearing, any remaining hesitance melts when Dammon grabs the collar of Rolan’s robes to pull him into a kiss that traps Tav firmly in the middle

Being abruptly sandwiched between their chests pushes a gasp from Tav’s throat, which turns to an approving hum at the sight and sounds of Rolan and Dammon devouring each others’ mouths over their shoulder

Tav’s arms snake around the wizard in front, while behind they feel Dammon’s palms smoothing over the curves of their waist and hips

Dammon breaks the kiss before guiding Rolan’s chin gently toward Tav, and Rolan needs no more encouragement to capture their lips eagerly

Meanwhile, Dammon bends to place soft kisses at the juncture where Tav’s neck meets their shoulder. Dextrous fingers pull their shirt laces looser to expose more kissable skin

Periodically he’ll surface behind their ear to praise how lovely Tav looks between him and Rolan like this, and how good they’re going to make Tav feel. It sets off a chorus of moans passing from Tav to Rolan and back again as their lips slide together

Once Tav decides the wizard’s had more than his share, they break the wet kiss and tilt their head back to meet Dammon’s mouth. Rolan is panting and wiping saliva from his chin, instantly greedy for more

Dammon chuckles against Tav’s lips and suggests there are other ways Rolan can put his mouth to use—and doesn’t Tav deserve some gratitude after everything they’ve done for the two of them?

It wouldn’t work coming from anyone else, but at Dammon’s sultry baritone, Rolan doesn’t hesitate as he slips to place a trail of kisses down Tav’s belly to their waist and lands on his knees in front of them

He impatiently works off Tav’s shoes and pants, tugging with such enthusiasm that only Dammon’s firm grip over their torso keeps Tav balanced. Then Rolan’s mouth abruptly closes between Tav’s legs, licking and sucking as if he intends to make up for every thank you left unspoken

Thankfully Dammon’s mouth stops up their moans, or Tav might worry about the sounds carrying back to camp. Instead only the filthy, wet sounds of Rolan’s mouth against their sex fills the clearing

Dammon’s hands guide Tav’s to each of Rolan’s curving horns, encouraging Tav to ride his face. Rolan moans between their legs at the new sensation of Tav’s grip tugging him, the vibration sending a shudder up their spine

At that Dammon pulls out of the kiss with a groan. One of his hands leaves their hip to tug the linen shirt up and over Tav’s head, leaving them standing completely bare in the dark woods between the two Tieflings. There’s another rustling movement before Dammon’s hard length unfurls against the small of Tav’s back

He’s hot and ridged, and before Tav can release one of Rolan’s horns to reach back for him, Dammon is grinding with a low grunt into the bare skin of their back

Each rhythmic roll of his hips pushes Tav harder against Rolan’s mouth. As if the increased pressure wasn't enough, a tail Tav suspects belongs to Dammon coils firmly up their leg to force their stance plenty open for Rolan’s mouth

As pleasure rapidly coils in their belly, Tav manages to glance down to see Rolan frantically palming himself through his trousers, his other hand joining his lips at working Tav’s orgasm from between their legs

The sight pushes Tav over the edge—just in time, a calloused hand closes over their mouth to catch the loud, keening sounds of their climax

Tav grinds out the waves against Rolan’s mouth, gripping his horns desperately, feeling him whimper and shake between their legs as he himself releases against his own hand

Just a few seconds later, Dammon’s teeth close bluntly over Tav’s shoulder—and in the next moment, hot liquid spurts in trailing paths over the skin of their back

Dammon goes down first on wobbling legs; the tail still wrapped around Tav’s own leg drags them down after him

The three of them lie in a panting pile on the mossy forest floor. Tav’s clothes are somewhere around here, but in the meantime two sets of limbs lay sprawled from either side across Tav’s body, with two ridged tails caressing over Tav’s bare skin as if in loving praise

And that’s just the beginning of the night

#spicy #bg3 smut #rolan x tav #dammon x tav #rolan x dammon #dammon x rolan #rolan x dammon x tav #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #rolan bg3 #dammon bg3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic

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bloodandoranges · 6 months

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Feel completely free to ignore if uncomfortable but...Im starved of NSFW Gale headcanons \ oneshots...and your writing is ✨Great✨ so uhhh do with this as you will.

✨Gale/Fem!Tav NSFW Headcanons✨

waahh thank you for this prompt, I love doing headcanons! Hopefully will have an one shot out soon 👀 also…should I add more?

— Gale wasn’t lying when he said he had a practiced tongue. He loves to go down on Tav, her thighs clenched around his head, toes digging into his back as he loses himself in her, as he drinks her in. She feels the Weave dance around her skin as he devours her, caressing her where he can’t reach. He seeks her out constantly, settling to his knees in front of her.

— If there’s one thing that will always set Gale off? It’s Tavs scent. A new perfume, and he’s all over her, complimenting her and pressing his nose to her neck, breathing in the sweet aroma. But of course, he prefers her natural scent. When they’ve had a hard day of battle or training; or rather, days…when she’s covered in blood and sweat is when it really sets him off. He’s all over her, hands squeezing at her hips as he breathes her in, as he moves into her…nose nuzzled tightly against her collarbone all the while.

— Of course, while he enjoys taking her wherever he can? His favourite place will always be in the Astral Planes, amongst the Weave… He holds her tight, multiple sets of arms around her as he fucks her, gasping out her name like a prayer. Their bodies, their souls, perfectly intertwined. There was nothing, nothing that could be better than this.

— As any good gentlemen should, he enjoys cuddling after sex…and in general, really. Curled up on his sofa with Tav settled in his lap while he read a book, her arms wound around his neck while she laid her head on his chest. Or the two of them wrapped in a naked embrace, limbs tangled together as he gently strokes her face - thinking on how truly lucky he was that the Gods had blessed him with her.

— Bonus: He loves being praised. He loves when she tells him how good his been, how wells he’s down…he becomes putty in her hands.

#bg3 #fic #baldurs gate tav #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x reader #gale x tav #headcanon #Gale has a scent kink #I mean it’s sort of implied-ish in game #phew #bg3 fic #ask

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creepy-friday · 1 year

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Ok ok hear me out 👀

What if, instead of fem! Proxy, we got a fem! Human maid 👀👀👀

Like the Slenderman chose her to take care of the mansions needs such as: cleanliness, general functioning (like electrical management, house repair, etc...), food management, etc...

But she isn't a demon nor proxy, but a human dragged into this life (The Operator is a cruel silly guy)

The Proxies have to watch over her so other residents don't mess with her, and also so she doesn't run away.

THE POWER DYNAMIC WOULD BE THROUGH THE ROOF 😭

YOU'RE BACK<3 this prompt is interesting ngl👀👀 I included more characters for the spice

Creepypasta x Maid!Reader

Characters Included: Proxy focused

Warnings: suggestive/NSFW themes,non-con/dub-con mentions,violence,misogyny,drugs and mental illness references

The difference between the power dynamics between you and the other residents are catastrophically huge

Once Slenderman took you in,he made sure that you understand what your role is from the start.It was a cruel time for him to make the decision to bring an innocent human in a manor full of deranged people,but in his mind he took the right decision

The first sick people who viewed you as a fuck toy would be Masky and Jeff

Since you're in the care of proxies,you are somwhat lucky,the others would mostly keep their hands to themselves

Maybe except Ben who has no restrictions by being a literal ghost,so I can totally see him messing with you for a while

The fact that you are a maid might give the others the opportunity to discover a new kink btw

Masky would slap your ass as you clean the windows "good job,get that body moving"

He's a whiny little bitch.He would scream at you if you missed a spot,if you were late to cook dinner by a minute or if he simply needs your assistance with whatever bullshit he makes up

He even called you to prepare him a bath and harassed you in the bathroom,even threating to drown you for his sick entertainment

The way you look up to him makes his dick hard,he doesn't care if the others find gross that he gets off on the power imbalance,he feels good about it

The only good thing he does is not letting the others fuck with you it doesn't apply to Hoodie

Sure,he might threaten to punish you by letting Jeff has his way with you,but we all know his pride won't let him to let you get fucked by another man yeah,once more,it doesn't apply to Hoodie

Right after a bloody mission he would bring you to his room and make you suck him off "How's it feel to have the dirty work done?Right where you belong"

Washing the blood off of their clothes it's a nightmare.Sometimes,the white masked man would try to scare you by saying all the messed up things he did to get them this red

Toby was happy he can look after a girl ngl.After seeing how scared and lost you are,he decided to make himself your safe space

But even then,he saw you as an opportunity to break himself into,it was a selfish tought,but he really craved to be your "knight in shining armor"

He actually started to stand his ground whenever Masky would start to harass him in front of you,and even if he would get beat up and would shame retreat in his shell for a few days,this boy doesn't give up

I can see him letting you escape in the forest if you pull the right strings,but the fear of what Slenderman would do to both yourself and him made Toby to get you back crying

INSTEAD,he goes on walks with you in the forest whenever you are free,just to give you that false sense of freedom

Even if it's just your job to clean,cook and do household chores,he views them as more intimate and might get romantic feelings towards you he has no self respect

Hoodie would play a lot of mind games with you,sometimes he would make you think he's your ally,sometimes he would give the impression that he's just another wolf from the hungry pack

He actually let you run free in the forest for a few minutes and waited for you to get your hopes up until he would show up from behind and get you back

"Gothca" he said,tackling you to the ground as one of his hands rested on your waist and the other one on the back of your head "let's get you back,shall we?awwwh,don't cry now,you know I wouldn't hurt you!Now I can't say the same about the others if they knew you got this far..so let's keep this between the two of us,what do ya' say?"

The son of a bitch would also blackmail you into having sex with him so that he can "protect you" or so that "he wouldn't snitch about your plans of running away"

Even if your plans would be top tier,he would know about them and would make sure to tear them down as slow as the light in your eyes fade away

If you're feisty he wouldn't feel the need to fight with you,but would rather keep him interested into bringing you down

But if you're on the docile side he would still take it as a challenge to himself,to see in how much time he can make you his loyal puppy

The manor is huge,four floors with large windows where a lot of dust piles up,especially on the inhibited last floor where The Operator works

I can see Masky making you work naked at a busy hour of the day, just for his fucked up entertainment,throwing some nasty comments while burning cigarette buts on your soft skin

EJ would watch from a distance,mercy and guilt piling up in his chest.Altough he doesn't see you as prey,he would certainly think of you as a safe resort to call when his heats/bloodlust appears

Jane would nod her head and advert her eyes,often even asking you if you're okay,just trying to make you feel..a little cared for

Natalie would argue a lot about you with Masky,but after all she's just a resident and Tim is still a proxy at the end of the day.She can't do anything about it.

All in all,your life in the mansion would be assured to be a long one,and depending on your behaviour you can make it a less traumatizing pressuring experience

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta #headcanons #y/n #tim wright #tim wright x reader #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #brian x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #toby x reader #marble hornets #jeff the killer #jane the killer #clockwork #ben drowned #creepypasta scenarios

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nerdieforpedro · 21 days

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Her smile was worth it

Pero Tovar (modern AU) x plus size female reader (La jefa)

Word Count: 1882

Warnings: DARK FIC, mobs and their enforcers, mentions of general violence and graphic violence, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of injuries, solving problems Tovar style, comfort food and tea

Summary: Pero Tovar only has a few people he chooses to interact with willingly. The bookstore owner is one of them. Someone made a very stupid mistake, Tovar will handle it and still have his tea.

Notes: This was written for @iamasaddie ‘s writing challenge 2.0. My color was Mob Enforcer and the prompt was “Hurt/Comfort” and “Who did this to you?” We're longer than a Drabble again, we dribbled quite a bit. Such is Nerdie.

I may have leaned too hard into the ‘hurt portion’ but we’ll see. 👀

Main Masterlist/ Pero Tovar Masterlist/ Writing Challenges

The only good thing about doing collections, was that most of the time, Pero wasn’t using violence. Just intimidation. The shopkeepers knew why he was here and knew the amount they needed to pay to The Family. It’s been the same amount for the past six months, in was raised temporarily for some needed repairs on the club the Valentino family owned. The actual story was that a few of the younger members had been ordered to torture a few members of a rival family and went overboard. The walls, floors and everything needed to be scrubbed.

Tovar’s been with the Valentino family for fifteen years and as one of their premier enforcers for the last seven working his way up from errand boy. His height and broad frame discourage crossing him, and even if someone is dumb enough to do so, they find themselves bloodied, battered and with at least one thing broken.

Today’s last stop for collections was planned and one that Pero normally did by himself. The bookstore owner also functions as the town’s librarian since the town doesn’t have one. It’s a smaller town and to get to a library you must drive two towns over. She normally offers him tea and some type of baked goodies. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’s grown to have a slight sweet tooth. Maybe. Really, he could care less about the sweets, he usually chats up the owner and barrows books. Considering he is collecting money from her, he felt he should pay but she always said no. He got the sense it wasn’t out of fear, she liked knowing his thoughts on different books. At first, he didn’t like the idea of discussing them. The enforcer wasn’t sure if he could really talk about different themes, symbols, characters and the like he often heard people talk about when discussing these books.

La jefa (the boss) as he often greeted her didn’t judge him on his answers or lack of them. He’d talk the best he could about what he read, even if he didn’t understand it all. She listens and sips her tea, then asks him questions to draw more answers out of him. It fustrated him at first. But he grew to enjoy the bi-weekly sit downs with her.

The chime of the bell goes off as he opens the door. The sun is at Pero’s back as he enters the bookstore. He comes early in the afternoon around two. She’s not at the counter, though the shop is listed as open. Calling out for her, she doesn’t answer, and he sucks his teeth. It isn’t like her at all. There’s no tea out either. There are no books that appear out of place and making his way behind the counter, nothing appears to be wrong with the register.

The enforcer goes into the back of the shop, he only knew where the bathroom was back here. He was looking for anything that resembled an office, as he walked down the hallway, there was a sniffle. As he kept going, they got louder. Taking a breath while he stood in front of a door that was slightly ajar, he tried to prepare himself. Maybe it was a bad day, maybe she got a papercut or was reading a sad book or something. Tovar instantly knew none of those were the case when he opened the door.

Sitting behind the desk, her shoulders were slumped, and her hands were covering her face. He saw the scabs on the back of her hands, defensive marks. “Jefa dejame ver. (Boss, let me have a look).” Her sniffles stop for a moment as she shakes her head, turning her body away from him in the swivel chair. His eyes widen at the mark on her neck he spies it when she turns, it looks like it could be from a palm. Moving to her side, Pero places a hand on her shoulder, “I need to see cariño (sweetheart) or just give me a name. Who did this to you?” She finally drops her hands, but she turns her face away.

“I don’t want you to see. The envelope is on the desk Pero. Please.” It is on the table, and he’ll put it in his jacket shortly - it is why he came here in the first place, but he can’t just leave like this. On top of her being one of a small number of people who he wants to be around, it could get around that the protection money the shops pay isn’t worth a damn because you could get beat in your own shop, and nothing will happen to whoever did it.

“Then tell me a name.” It’s sterner this time, but he’s released her shoulder and instead picked up her hand, his thumb tracing the scabs on her knuckles. She’d tried to fight back at least. She’s biting her lips when she finally looks at him, most of the discoloration is on the left side of her face though there’s a cut on her chin and one on her bottom lip. A large bruise is on her chest across her right clavicle, partly covered by her shirt. Pero’s able to keep his face motionless. “Por favor cariño (please sweetheart).” He doesn’t recognize the name she says, but he kisses her forehead and wraps an arm around her. “Gracias (thank you). I’ll be back princesa (princess).”

Pero puts the envelope in his jacket pocket and heads out of the office. “Close the shop now and have the tea ready when I come back. Between eight and nine tonight.” He’s going to be quick about dropping the money off and he’s texted one of his associates with the name she gave. Within fifteen minutes, Pero has a picture to go with the name and a location. Marcello talks way too much, but he’s the best Tovar knows at tracking people.

Pero finds this man himself and tells Marcello to tell the higher ups that he needs to demonstrate a lesson in messaging with the family. He’ll need the basement and he’ll keep the clean up to a minimum. It’s not that there wouldn’t be blood. There might be too much blood so the powers at be approve the basement use but ask that Marcello and a second enforcer be there so that the man isn’t killed. There’s only murder when necessary and it wasn’t they viewed in this case. Pero sucked his teeth for the second time today but would make sure the man in question lives. Just not with all functioning limbs.

After the submission of the money and subsequent torture was complete, the man’s body was bandaged by one of their doctors on the payroll and dropped off at his home, during a time they knew his family would be home with the message, “The Valentino family suffers no fools.” Pero carved it into his back to emphasize the point. He was still alive but would not be the same. Not after, as Tovar saw it, he’s violated one of his favorite places.

La jefa has long closed her shop and made herself dinner. Now that she thought about it, she’s never made Pero any of her food, just cookies, brownies and the like. Since he said he was coming back, she would make extra. The worst that would happen would be that he would say he didn't want any. It also dawned on her that she has not made a book recommendation today. She should pick one out before he comes, straightening out her mint green dress. Turning off the stove, she went downstairs to look for a book and saw Pero standing at the door ready to knock. It was a quarter after eight, he was glad he’d taken the extra time to shower. He didn’t want to be late, but he didn’t want to be dirty either.

“Ah! Mi princesa del librios es bonita (My Princess of books is pretty). You have our tea ready tonight?” His question follows the chime of the bell above the door as she unlocks it and lets him in. She then locks it again and nods.

“I have tea and I made some extra for dinner. I didn’t pick out a book for you yet.” She seems a bit brighter than this afternoon but still trying to make sure she was facing him with her right side. Pero takes her left hand and tugs it a little, not hard, just enough so she faces him fully.

“Hermosa (gorgeous) you don’t have a bad side. Don’t worry about the book. I haven’t finished with the other one yet. I want my tea and I want to see what you made for dinner.” The corners of her mouth curve and finally she smiles, squeezing his hand and leading him up the stairs. Pero watches her walk up and into her living area. It’s cozy as it has books scattered about as well.

“I don’t know if you like stew, but I made that and heated up some rolls. There’s butter too. I have water, apple juice, coke, and some rum.” The last option surprised him as he didn’t picture her drinking at all. Maybe she had a glass or two when she sat up here before bed. She poured herself a glass of water as Pero pointed to her glass and held up an empty bowel on the table. She filled both and they sat down across from each other. “I hope you enjoy Pero.”

“I don’t doubt that I will cariño.” The food went quickly as they ate, and she asked what other kind of foods he liked. Pero felt he might be getting greedy. Perhaps he’s been gluttonous of her attention each time he comes here. She gives it so willingly.

Tonight’s tea is mint like her dress which makes Tovar chuckle as he takes up half of her loveseat sitting down. She takes up the other and they sip tea, speaking of past books they’ve read and things he may want to read.

Even if he got an urgent call, he’ll ignore it because he’s having his tea. Pero Tovar doesn’t feel like an enforcer or a conduit for violence. He just has an arm around one of his favorite people as she places her head on his shoulder. The tough pads of his fingers touch the injured side of her face while he tells her that it’s been taken care of. He won’t tell her details. Tovar figures she can put it together. If he can just have moments like these where he’s just a man with someone he cares for, Pero can use that to sleep. He prays she can rest without crying or being scared.

The loveseat has his feet hanging off outside of the blanket he found on the back of it. So far, he hasn’t heard her sniffle again. Pero carried her to bed after she fell asleep in his arms. The faint scent of mint mingling with the earthy smell of the books lulls him to sleep. He had blood on his hands again today, but it was fine. It was for her sake, and she hasn’t cried again.

It was worth it.

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pero tovar #iamasaddie game #iamasaddie writing challenge 2.0 #hurt/comfort #dark fic #trigger warning for violence #pero tovar x reader #mob enforcer #modern pero tovar #writing challenge 2.0

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verycharismaticdragon · 8 months

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@mandlien: Op where is the essay 👀 @latitudeoctopus: An essay I would like to see 🙏

Glad u asked! <-guy who was totally angling for someone to ask

OG post this continues from, for those just tuning in now:

actually SQQ's first encounter with LQG perfectly illustrates which of SY's idiosyncrasies perfectly converged to make him absolutely obsessed with Binghe, in this essay i will

So, to start with, the explanation for why I think this scene in particular is more illuminating than all of SQQ's interactions with actual LBH.

That's because there's not a single scene in the novel where his interactions with LBH-the-person are not colored by pre-existing bias of already being obsessed with LBH-the-character. Like, consider the scene where he appraises Shen Qingqiu's looks, and finishes it off with:

He still couldn’t compare to Luo Binghe. (vol.1, ch.1)

despite not having seen Luo Binghe in person yet. But no, he's already convinced his beloved blorbo is of course The Handsomest Ever!

Simply speaking, we never encounter Shen Yuan pre-Binghe Syndrome (when instead of brain there's binghe). So it's difficult to tell whether any particular way he thinks or feels in Binghe’s presence is the standard for him, or owed to the fact that he already likes Binghe in at least one way.

But the same can not be said of Liu Qingge: while SY did have some interest in his character, he didn’t really think of him before encountering him in Lingxi Caves. Plus, unlike Binghe who seems to have fully aligned with SQQ’s expectations of him, LQG had given him a little shock — which prompted some re-evaluation of his prev thoughts on SQQ's part.

(cont. under cut)

Now is a good time to mention that I arrived at thinking about this scene while considering Shen Yuan's relationship with toxic masculinity — and remembering I jotted down 'Shen Yuan's fascination with masculinity' in my reread notes for this scene.

[Bai Zhan Peak] was the most warlike of Cang Qiong Mountain's branches, as well as the branch with the greatest martial ability. Every single generation's Bai Zhan Peak Lord was a world-class swordmaster, a victor of countless battles, an undefeated legend. How hot-blooded—how dashing! Male readers always fervently admired strong characters. Even though Liu Qingge never officially debuted on page, he hadn't lacked for fans, and Shen Yuan had been especially fascinated with him. In his headcanon, Liu Qingge had been a sharp and manly man, powerful and magnificent. A war god, right?! (vol.1, ch.2)

So, Shen Yuan’s fascination with Liu Qingge’s character — or rather his headcanon version of it — is about Liu Qingge being someone who (in SY’s mind) embodies masculine qualities. And what qualities are those? From this section, being “strong” (has to be physically powerful) and “undefeated” (can’t be a loser) — yeah, pretty standard toxic masc starting kit.

And something of interest here: though SQQ describes it mostly as his own feelings, even in this excerpt, he slips in a “male readers always [...] admired” — which, when considering everything else we know about his relationship to masculinity, kind of gives off an insecurity vibe. He seems to be either trying to justify his own feelings (i.e., ‘other men feel the same way, i’m in-group not out-group, i’m not failing at being a man by feeling this way [admiring another man]’), or else emulating other male fans and trying to convince himself he relates to the story the same way they do (i.e., ‘male readers admire strong characters and im a man therefore i definitely also admire the same things’).

Speaking of emulating other male fans, there’s another quality that SY seems to associate with masculinity, this one not very related to Liu Qingge — though SQQ does make a mental detour into it in the same scene, when talking about other Peaks.

Yeah, when he mentions Xian Shu, and the fact that the popularity of self-insert erotic/lewd fics about Xian Shu "compared to that of the original work” in PIDW fandom, or possibly even in general on ‘Zhongdian’ (since afaik you can publish fanfiction on Chinese webnovel sites alongside original works, you just have to tag it as such). In other words, among male fans.

But we know SY doesn’t like sex scenes, right? Hell, his favorite wife is Liu Mingyan at least in part because she doesn’t have sex scenes:

There was one more appeal factor. Liu Mingyan was the only female character for whom Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky didn't write detailed sex scenes. (vol.1, ch.2)

Of course… that’s what SQQ says in his head where nobody can hear him. We actually have evidence of him singing a different tune when among other fans:

Most of the female protagonists are stupid sexy lamps, and the male lead doesn't even bed Liu Mingyan, the only breath of fresh air? He doesn't bed the rightful empress? Are you fucking kidding me? (vol.4, ch.26, part 1)

(speaking of, this is why ‘peerless cucumber is SY’s true self’ takes baffle me. his toxicmascsona is his true self, really?)

So SY has another qualifier for ‘manly man’ in his head: being sexual (of course, in a straight way). Which is not something that comes naturally to him, as evidenced by him cringing away from any actual action even when he tries to emulate the thought pattern, e.g.:

Qi Qingqi? She was indeed slightly junior to him, and their first meeting...he'd long forgotten how it went. "Often together" wasn't quite right, though. Perhaps he at times dared to think about going to Xian Shu Peak so they could be "often together," but while he had the wicked intentions, he lacked the courage required to follow through—and he could never commit an act as depraved as stalking. (vol.4, ch.23)

Riiiight, SQQ, you totally have those 'wicked intentions' that you merely can't follow through on because you just invented reasons not to.

But that does give us an image of SY’s ideal of masculinity. Extremely powerful, undefeatable, and hypersexual… yeah no points for guessing who. I’m pretty sure SQQ even directly equates Bing-ge with masculinity somewhere, I just can’t remember the exact spot. And he also believes that any man should definitely want to be in Bing-ge’s place, like for example here:

Every man dreamed of being caught between an angel and a devil. To watch them jealously vie with each other over him one moment, then risk life and limb for his sake in the next—that was the highest, most sacred, perverted fantasy of every male organism. (vol.1, ch.2)

…though I must note, once again, “every man”, “every male organism” — but does SQQ actually feel the same way? I think that the answer is he thinks that he should, and is trying to convince himself that he does.

Which must be difficult considering he finds men more attractive than women, returning back to that scene with Liu Qingge.

In any other state, Shen Qingqiu might have declared, "What a beautiful man!" (vol.1, ch.2)

Really bestie? You would've declared it? Because I don't see you show the same enthusiasm about women. In fact, you usually jump right into how they were described in the novel, as if you don't have your own opinion.

Now, I must note that I personally don’t think finding someone attractive equals actually being attracted to them. But this does imply which way SQQ's tastes veer. In fact, we can even see that he has a type. First, he describes LQG's face as "as beautiful as a fine woman's"; then adds:

This was clearly the face of a charming young master who arranged flowers and plucked farewell willow branches! (vol.1, ch.2)

Of course, if we are talking about charming young masters with feminine looks, their bearing that of a classic Chinese gentleman (warrior-scholar ideal who’d ‘pluck farewell willow branches’)...

That firm yet humble countenance, demonstrating his noble and unyielding spirit. That pencil-straight back and stance, evincing a proud core that would rather break than bend! (vol.1, ch.1)

[SQQ] saw a glimpse of the future Luo Binghe's unique grace, that of "eyes like cold stars, a soft and radiant smile, with muted words and quiet laughter." (vol.1, ch.1)

In truth, deep down, Bing-ge's fair and clean pretty-boy type didn't really suit the tastes of "Great Master" Airplane Flying Towards the Sky. He had only assigned this sort of configuration to the protagonist to meet his stallion hardware specifications. The art of growing stallions was grounded in science, and the research was clear: women preferred men who looked cultured, pretty, and even a bit soft and feminine. (vol.4, ch.26, part 2)

…there’s no question who is superlative in SQQ’s heart. To boot, he doesn’t even realize that he’s biased about LBH’s attractiveness, as we can see from Airplane-bro’s musings above. So that’s Cucumber-bro’s type: cultured, pretty, a bit feminine.

See, a fun little discrepancy here: what SQQ sees as a masculine ideal and therefore can admire plainly — again, powerful, undefeatable, and hypersexual, — and what he finds attractive in a man, under all those layers of denial, are two pretty different things.

Liu Qingge, despite his appearance unveiling a side of both to us, doesn’t actually fully embody either type: on the masculinity side, he is missing the hypersexuality, on the attractiveness side, his looks fit but his bearing doesn’t match.

But you know who hits all of SY’s qualifications on both counts?.. yeah, once again no points for guessing, it stars with "Bing" and ends with "ge".

So: the source of Shen Yuan’s obsession with LBH-the-character is the intersection of those two factors. Like you know that old wlw joke “I can’t tell if I wanna be her or date her”? Thats Shen Yuan with Luo Binghe, but, yknow, unconsciously. He admires LBH as an epitome of masculinity, an image of a Perfect Male to strive for; he also very much finds him attractive in a gay way.

In fact, I would even say that an important component of Binghe brainrot is that he is an acceptable target for admiration. How can SY be accused of being gay over liking a horny stallion novel? So it’s totally normal that he thinks of Binghe a lot, obviously that’s just because he looks up to him! Because Binghe is such a perfect iteration of a male stallion protagonist! Who wouldn’t want to be in his place, thinks Shen Yuan, never ever having imagined being in Binghe’s place even once. Ofc that’s only because Binghe got insane game though! Shen Yuan couldn’t hope to compare. LBH is just so admirable and sexy,, for the wives of course, the wives find him sexy, not Shen Yuan, Shen Yuan is just stating facts— etcetcetc.

Point is, LBH is a man that Shen Yuan can like without shame, because he has a whole bag of above-the-board reasons to prove that he's not liking him the wrong way. A perfect target of convergence for Shen Yuan’s conscious and unconscious thoughts (and desires).

And this is how SY ended up with the years-long hyperfix we see in the beginning of the novel.

#shen qingqiu #shen yuan #bingqiu #svsss #svsss meta #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain's self-saving system #mxtx #danmei novels

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spiteless-xo · 9 months

Note

for the NSFW prompt: Jean + 7 👀

yay, my first jean request!! thank you!! 🥰

sorry, i got really carried away with this one, also the "plot" is all over the place 🙏

list of prompts

╰┈➤ smut prompts - 7. “Can you guys just fuck already?”

ft. jean/fem!reader cw. unedited, not proofread, explicit sexual content (dirty talk, vaginal sex, jean's got a big dick), explicit language. 2,509 words.

you hate jean kirstein.

you absolutely cannot stand him. between his stupid smug grin and his stupid fucking mullet and all of his stupid little quips -- you don't see a world where you and jean could ever be friends.

especially not when each time he rattles your nerves, you start to feel an aching need between your thighs.

that's why it's particularly frustrating when your best friend starts dating his best friend.

"come on," mikasa urges, practically dragging you up the stairs to eren and jean's shared apartment. "it'll be fun, i promise!"

"mika, i still don't understand why i have to come. you know jean and i don't get along."

"catan is a four-player game," she sighs. "and besides, he likes you"

"he likes me?" you repeat incredulously. "do you hear what you're saying right now?"

she just smiles at you before rapping her knuckles softly on the door to their apartment. "he does," she insists. "you don't see what he's like when you're not around."

the door swings open and mikasa is snatched from the space in front of you. she squeals in delight as eren pulls her into his chest, spinning her around the small entryway to his apartment.

"hi, eren," you say, smiling politely as he litters mikasa's face with kisses.

"hey squirt," he teases, burying his face into mikasa's neck as he looks over her shoulder at you. "ready to play some games?"

mikasa and eren are in that annoying stage of their relationship where they can't seem to keep their hands off of each other. even as you follow them into the apartment, shutting the door behind you, eren keeps one hand firmly grasping her ass while she presses her cheek into his bicep.

a loud groan from the dining room interrupts your thoughts. "you didn't tell me she was coming," jean huffs.

"trust me, i didn't want to," you hiss through clenched teeth, following the lovebirds toward the dining room table where the boys have set up the game.

you settle into an open seat next to jean, scootching your chair a bit away from him and toward mikasa, who's practically sitting on eren's lap. jean casts you a dark look, taking a long sip from his beer, and you avoid his gaze by looking down at the board.

eren quickly explains the game and you begin playing. it's relatively simple, as far as boardgames go: collect resources, build roads and settlements, and collect points -- easy.

the most difficult part of the game proves to be trading resources with your fellow players. mikasa will give you anything you ask for if she has it (but she rarely does), eren haggles you to get a better deal for himself, and jean completely denies any of your requests -- which is a problem, because he's the only player that can generate brick.

"i'll give you two sheep for a brick," you offer, desperate.

"nah, i don't think so," he tsks, tapping his cards on the table as he grins at you.

frowning, you look back down at your deck. "what about a sheep, a rock, and wheat -- that's a development card."

"i know what it is," jean says, "and i'm not interested."

you huff, annoyed, and press at your temple with your fingers. "what can i give you to get you to trade me a brick?"

you see something flash across his face and just as he's opening his mouth to speak, you cut him off. "don't be gross."

"i wasn't gonna," he protests, but he's smirking at you. "i was just gonna say, that's a pretty shit deal for you -- what if i give you my wood, too?"

"ew, jean, i said, don't be gross," you hiss and he breaks out into laughter.

"how is that gross?"

"you know exactly what i mean! you're talking about your dick!"

"why are you thinking about my dick?"

"i'm not!"

mikasa sighs from beside you, hand wrapped around eren's shoulders as she plays with the tufts on hair on the nape of his neck. "you guys are making it hard to play."

"yeah, no kidding," eren sighs, looking over at you with a smirk. "do you want us to leave you two alone? if you guys fuck out all of this frustration, maybe we can actually play the game."

your eyes widen comically at eren's comment and you feel your face burning in embarrassment. "we're not going to -- i don't want to --"

you stumble around your words, panicked, as eren and mikasa give you the same look.

in your desperation, you glance over to jean. he has his cheek sucked into his mouth, jaw tight and face flushed as he looks down at the game board. why is he blushing?

"yeah, let's leave," eren decides, kissing mikasa quickly on the cheek before standing up from his seat. he helps mikasa up from hers before the two of them escape out the front door, leaving you and jean alone in the dining room.

you shake you head in confusion, still gaping in shock. "what the fuck are they thinking?" you wonder out loud, pushing your chair further away from where jean's seated. "we're not going to do that."

jean, uncharacteristically, stays quiet. he nods to himself, eyes still focused on the board before he stands up from his seat and walks over to the living room.

"they probably just wanted to go fuck," he calls from the other room. "i saw mikasa grabbing his dick under the table."

you grimace at the thought.

"come watch tv if you wanna, they won't be back for a while."

you tap your nails on the table in thought, glancing between the front door and the doorway where jean disappeared into the living room. with a heavy sigh, you get up from your seat and go to join him -- what could be the harm in that?

and of course, jean's sitting in the centre of the couch, legs sprawled open as he slumps against the seat. with a huff, you squish yourself into the far end of the couch, your knee lightly brushing against his as you do so.

"can you stop manspreading?" you hiss, and he just spreads his legs open further. "holy fuck."

"what's your problem?" he snaps.

"what's my problem?" you repeat, looking over at him incredulously. "what does that mean?"

"i mean, you're always acting like you can't fucking stand me."

"i can't."

"well, why not?"

your eyebrows raise in amusement at the opportunity to finally air your grievances to the man that's been a solid thorn in your side since you first met. you twist in your seat, facing him completely with your back against the armrest of the couch and begin to count off your fingers.

"you're always making fun of me, you always --"

"shit," he hisses, cutting you off, "i didn't think you had a list."

he almost looks hurt, so you snap your mouth shut. you lower your hands back down to your lap, suddenly feeling awkward as he looks over at you carefully.

"you really don't like me?" this time, he sounds vulnerable.

"i just think that you can be kind of mean to me, sometimes," you say quietly.

"i'm flirting with you -- you know that, right?"

you look up at him in confusion, brows furrowed, and you catch that same look on his face after eren's comment at the table: cheek sucked into his mouth with a faint blush across his cheeks.

"no, you're not."

"yes, i am," he insists with a laugh.

"well, then why are you so rude?"

"i'm not very good at flirting, i guess," he sighs, clasping his hands together behind his head as he looks over at you. "i think you're cute."

you look away quickly, feeling the burn of embarrassment on your cheeks. "uh, thanks... i think you're cute, too," you stammer, cringing from how awkward you sound.

thankfully, he laughs. "even though i'm mean to you?"

and now you feel heat flooding between your legs as you admit something that you've been keeping to yourself, all this time.

"especially, because you're mean to me."

your eyes dart up to gauge his expression and you catch his eyebrows raising into his hairline and his mouth falling open.

"well, shit, i guess i'm not that bad at flirting, after all."

you hum in response, fidgeting as jean inches closer. he wraps one arm around the back of your seat while the other presses into the armrest behind you, caging you into the couch between his long, sturdy arms.

"so what are we gonna do about it?" he asks, rolling his tongue across his lip as he looks at you.

"do about what?"

"your little crush," he teases and you roll your eyes in annoyance. "oh, come on. eren and mikasa are going to be gone for a while -- why don't you let me be mean to you a little bit more."

you swallow thickly. "what do you mean?"

"why don't you let me --" he leans in until his cheek is pressed against yours, breathing hot air against the shell of your ear as chills run down your spine. "-- bully that pretty little pussy open with my big, mean cock."

"you're always talking about your dick," you grumble, but it's half-hearted and weak.

he laughs, sliding his warm palms down your arms to your hips, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings as you squirm.

"how long have you wanted this?" he asks, eyes glinting in delight as you lift you hips up off the couch, allowing him space to slide your leggings down and off of your legs.

you offer a strangled whimper in response, embarrassed as jean holds your thighs open, looking down between your legs at your already glistening pussy.

"wow, you're so wet already," he grins. he rubs small circles with his thumb on your inner thigh as his other hand moves to his belt, undoing it deftly as he watches you squirm below him.

"a-are you sure they're not going to come back?" you ask, glancing nervously behind him at the closed door.

"maybe they will," he shrugs, and your eyes dart back in time to watch him slip a hand into his briefs. your breath catches in your throat as he pulls his thick cock out from the top of the elastic waistband and your thighs squeeze around his hips in need.

"you like that?" he laughs, stroking his length with one hand while he pushes your thighs open with the other. "god, who knew all i needed was a few minutes alone with you to get what i wanted?"

you frown up at him, but you dissolve into gasping moans when you feel the heavy weight of his cock slapping against your clit.

"think you can take me?" he coos, and you swallow thickly.

"let's find out."

jean rolls his tongue against his cheek, looking at you in amusement as he nods. "yeah, let's find out."

he slides the head of his cock against your folds, smearing a mix of your arousal and his precum as he groans.

"shit, you're so fucking wet. you really do like it when i'm mean to you, huh?"

you reach forward, grabbing jean's biceps and feeling them flex against your palms. "you're so hot," you babble mindlessly and he laughs.

"you're cute," he says, clicking his tongue as he lines the head of his cock up against your entrance. "so fucking cute."

you feel the ache of your pussy stretching around the thick head of his cock -- it's a lot -- almost too much -- but he stills inside of you, shushing you softly.

"relax," he says, his voice dipping down to just a whisper. he rocks his hips gently, nudging himself into you a bit more each time and you whimper at the feeling.

"you're so fucking tight," he groans, head dropping forward onto your shoulder as he pushes into you. he breathes hard above you, still fully clothed as you lay half-naked on the couch beneath him.

you shift your hands from his arms to his back, grabbing tight fistfuls of his shirt as he rocks his hips against you.

"more," you beg softly, just a whisper into his ear. "please."

he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, holding himself up with his forearms as he sinks a little further into you. you cry out from the stretch, legs squeezing against his hips as his cock pushes against the tight walls of your cunt.

"i'm gonna fuck this little pussy open for me," he grunts, picking up speed as he thrusts into you. "make it mine."

he slides into you completely, hips pressed flush against yours, and he pauses. your pussy clenches around his length, desperate for him to make good on his promise and you can feel him twitching inside of you in response.

"fuck," he hisses, lifting his head off of your shoulder to look down at you. "you ready?"

you blink up at him, uncertain, and he leans down to press a soft kiss into your mouth. you whimper into the kiss, hands trailing up from his back to tangle in the long strands of his stupid fucking mullet.

he takes that as a yes and you start to feel him move his hips. a slow drag backward that makes your toes curl and your back arch off the couch, before slamming forward and causing you to cry out.

"you like that?" he grunts, keeping that same pace, fucking you open the way he told you he would.

the room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the slick squelching of his cock pushing into you. you claw hard at his back, trying to ground yourself as each thrust knocks the air from your lungs.

his hands slide from your waist down to your thighs, pressing them up against your chest and folding you in half so he can fuck you even deeper.

you can't breathe -- you can hardly speak -- you can feel drool running down your chin from the way your mouth is hung open -- you're in absolute bliss.

you can feel the tightening in your gut as jean's cock hits that sensitive spot inside your cunt. you rake your nails into his back, babbling out his name incoherently in some sort of warning for your quickly-approaching orgasm.

"gonna cum?" he coos, and that's what does it for you.

with a breathless cry, you cum around his cock. your pussy clenches around him rhythmically as he keeps forcing himself into you, pounding his hips against your thighs as his balls slap against your ass.

"holy shit," he hisses, clenching his eyes shut and throwing his head back. "you're squeezing me so tight --"

with a strangled groan, he presses his hips flush against your thighs, and in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you can feel his cock twitching inside of you -- spilling hot cum against the swollen walls of your cunt as you pulse around him.

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houserautha · 9 days

Note

Feyd and 69 👀

Yes or no?

Yessssssssss

Just in a general gn!reader situation, Feyd loves giving oral pleasure. Loves being between reader’s thighs. And if he gets oral pleasure in return??? He’s definitely on board.

As kinky as Feyd is, I think the reader would suggest it first. And Feyd would eagerly scramble to align himself with you, your bodies writhing together with poorly restrained desire. Your mouth would clamp down on his cock, feel his swollen head push up against the back of your throat, and your subsequent groan would prompt him to start his own lavishing between your legs. He would fervently work to bring you to orgasm, keeping your rolling hips in place in order to keep his mouth squarely focused on you.

Also, love bites?? He would nip and bite and suck and laugh when you yip in surprise

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd smut

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muffinsin · 3 months

Note

instead of the gp sisters fucking their girlfriend in a feral way, how about the sisters make love to her in a gentle and loving way? What do you think? Would the sisters be into that at the beginning and later of if the relationship?

That’s such a sweet prompt! Very interesting too👀 let’s get into it! :)

Masterlists

Bela

She holds back a lot as it comes to giving into her desires, and as it comes to her sex life in general

Really, she barely even has one outside of a relationship

She’s an extreme workaholic and usually deems sex with a random servant or so either not worth her time, beneath her, or a distraction from working

That’s the reason she will likely only sleep with you when you’re her partner

And with this comes often sweet love. Because she does not just find herself in a relationship with anyone

She cares about you, deeply, and this is portrayed in all her actions

She is definitely willing to have sweet, passionate lovemaking early on in the relationship. Even more than this, she sees it as a requirement on both parts

It’s rare for her to have sex. While arousing to her at times, Bela wants to feel worshipped and loved during sex at many times, especially early on

The first time consists of sensual, careful and sweet lovemaking

Sex means something to her. It isn’t something she randomly has, or something she is easy to dismiss

She doesn’t, or barely, screws random maids to satisfy her urges, and rather ignores these for as long as she can

With you, she doesn’t need to ignore them, but rather embraces them

She likes to be gentle and loving with you, and to be treated the same way in return

To give and receive meaningful kisses, loving touches that are almost worshipping even

Of course, she is still entirely capable of being rough, mean even, later on

But, there are times, often, when she needs the reassurance and love that comes with gentle, loving sex with you

You just mean so much to her

In the beginning of the relationship, it is mainly sweet lovemaking

The reason for this is of course, shared love and attraction, but also her desire to keep you safe and out of harm’s way

She knows she can be very strong and rough if she isn’t careful around you

And she knows, if she didn’t adjust her grip, she could snap your wrist like it’s nothing. Not that it ever happened. She is simply aware of the strength she possesses due to the cadou infection nestled inside of her

Because of this she strays from rough sex for quite a while into the relationship. She would never forgive herself if she hurt you

She isn’t entirely too comfortable with the thought of it yet, worried she’ll accidentally hurt you if she is too feral

After a lot of reassurance and tryouts, she’s willing to be rougher too, however

And in time, she learns she can be quite rough with you in her own ways

Still, lovemaking remains, and is yet one of her favorite forms of sex with you

Later on in the relationship, the type of sex you have depends entirely on the setting and mood

Some days, she will be loving, sensual and caring

On others, Bela is well tempted to ruin you

And on some other days, she might just settle for a mix of both

Cassandra

Oh, only rough sex in the beginning

Anything else would seem like a silly proposition to her

Cassandra has a lot of sex, frankly put. There’s really no way of talking around it

However, she has very little meaningful sex

She often opts for taking a servant willing to be with her into her chambers, to use, then throw aside

A tool to satisfy the urge and the ache between her legs

It’s always rough, and can be quite painful even. She doesn’t care all that much if her partner enjoys it, they’re usually expendable to her

It’s a way to keep her heart safe. She doesn’t want anyone to hurt her again, and is worried sweet, loving sex might get someone too close to her

Too close to her heart

Close enough to hurt this heart of hers

When you come around, she knows she has use of you. She opts not to kill you, unlike her usual playthings

And when a relationship blooms between the two of you, the sex doesn’t change

She will show affection, when she can, but still remain as demanding and feral in bed, ruining and bruising at every opportunity

It’s hard at first, for her to realize you’re her partner, in a relationship, and to adjust her actions accordingly

When you ask her for lovemaking at first, she nearly scoffs. She isn’t weak! And she doesn’t want to appear weak by being soft, even in bed

She doesn’t hear you out, either, no matter how much she cares for you

It’s only the beginning of the relationship, and trust has not been built just yet. Additional to this, her trust is hard to earn

At this time, with no trust and loyalty proven or built just yet, she doesn’t think you have the right asking that of her

She still can’t be sure you won’t betray her or hurt her, after all

When you ask again a little while into the relationship, when trust secures both of you and her worries, she’s open to it

However, she is incredibly confused

Isn’t that what she had been doing, too? Loving sex?

Sure, it was rough, but passionate. And you were her lover, and she tended to you and your wounds

Didn’t that make it loving sex?

She isn’t even sure how to be loving at sex, it’s been so long to her. She doesn’t really know how to express this love and softness like that

When you show her by cupping her cheeks and pressing a kiss to her lips- loving and careful, a deep and meaningful kiss that leaves her flustered- she begins to understand what you mean

She adjusts, and while she feels a little odd being gentle at first, she gets the hang of it fast

She allows gentle, sensual sex instead of feral one. She enjoys it sometimes, even

While Cassandra prefers rough, fast, feral one to get off fast, she is more than willing to switch it up as well

To praise and kiss, to take in your body in an almost worshipping fashion and kiss each part of you

To mark, lovingly, and place her marks with thought

To allow you to mark, to kiss, to hold her. To touch her

Daniela

She doesn’t mind either at all, at any point in the relationship

Whether in the beginning or long into the relationship, her preferences barely change, save for new kinks or techniques she might have discovered and taking a liking to

Daniela is very experimental, and kinky. She loves to explore new kinks, new positions, techniques, outfits and toys, for example. This much is clear and obvious incredibly early on

However, she’s also so very in love. Very. Fast.

She falls quickly, and hard, and is convinced from the moment she asks you out/you ask her out, you must love her equally immediately

Therefore she doesn’t only not mind, but relishes in sweet lovemaking, loving and caring touches, meaningful, deep kisses, roses and scents and dim lights

With her it is promised to you: she will enjoy both, to give and receive

However, Daniela is very much the type of person where the phrase “reap what you sow” applies. Treat her with love, and you will receive it in return. Hurt her, and she will do the same- only a tenfold worse

She loves to spoil you and treat you lovingly. When you show her gentleness and lovemaking at your turn in bed, she will return the same for you at her turn

With gentle kissing, feather light touches, praises and dim lights, comfortable sheets and a beautiful scene just for you

She likes to impress you when it comes to lovemaking, and go about it as romantic as she can

Like with Bela, it is very mood dependent what kind of sex you’re having with her

Should she feel naughty and desperate, she will nearly always ask for kinky sex. Often demand a little bit of degrading, even

Is she feeling needy and affection starved, she will often prefer long lovemaking sessions

She’s very flexible, though, and can quickly switch to loving sex in the midst of ruining you (or adapt to lovemaking just after being the one that was taken rough), or switch to harder, more feral movements just after sweet and loving ones

Daniela relishes in both, really

She generally prefers kinkier sex. This doesn’t mean it has to be rough at all, though

One of Daniela’s favorite aspects of sex is when it’s a mix of being dirty and naughty and loving

To keep her tied up while you take good care of her, for example

It makes her feel so loved and lightheaded at the same time

She enjoys sensuality and teasing, and likes to worship you even when she brings you to your limits, and vise versa

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil village

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plothooksinc · 6 months

Note

As promised, I have arrived with a prompt for NRFTW extra-content. I would loooooove to see the Hamato family come over to meet April's parents over dinner. 👀😎

this was less written and more 'the characters stuffed the author in the trunk and drove the plot themselves, but at least they gave the author popcorn'

WARNING: THIS IS A 30 PAGE STORY, IT IS THE UNDERDARK OF FAMILY DINNERS--

“Okay, so remember what I said about Raph.”

“He’s big. Don’t stare.”

“Great. I mean yeah, he’s huge, but he’s a big softie—”

“I get it. Stop being so worried.”

“Oh, and keep the gravy separate—”

“I got it!”

“—for Donnie, he has—”

“April.”

“...sensory issues?”

“So does your dad. Business as usual. You remember we’ve had this conversation three times already, right?”

“Sorry, mom. I’m just, uh…”

“You’re sitting down with friends you’ve known for years, not going to prom with a flock of mean girls. Stop pacing, for Pete’s sake. Look, get the potatoes out of the oven for me.”

“You got it.”

“How is… Leo? Is it Leo?”

“Yeah. He’s coming. AOPBA.”

“I have no clue what that means.”

“He has over-protective brothers.”

“Well, great, two birds with one stone. Go make up the couch so I don’t have to look at your face. Green is a better look on your turtle friends, baby, just sayin’.”

“Thanks so much.”

---------

There was really no good reason to be nervous. Donnie had already met her parents in less than stellar circumstances, and it had put Mom in a good mood for the rest of the evening. The ice had been broken; the guys had wanted to meet her family for ages, and she knew now it would be okay.

It didn’t stop the low level jitters as April padded the couch out generously with pillows and a comforter or two. It was like elation and terror had decided to go clubbing together somewhere in her rib cage. In the end, it came down to this being new. Something life-changing. The status quo forever being overturned. It was a good thing.

(It was damn terrifying, was what it was.)

The living room floor was generously covered in rugs and loose carpeting—both new and borrowed—because they weren’t made of money and the floor was still in the process of being repaired. Her dad had made fretful noises about inviting guests over in such conditions, and it was Carol that had reminded him, dryly, that “Honey, those kids live in a sewer. I don’t think they’re gonna judge us.”

“They live in an old subway station now,” April had said helpfully, and August had perked up with some interest and asked about logistical details, because her dad was a nerd like that and enjoyed his boats and trains, and his nerves about the floor were long forgotten. Nobody mentioned the fact that the guys already knew her apartment had been half destroyed in the little Krang’s attack. It was a fact that, by unspoken agreement, they had all decided to sweep under the rug.

Literally.

Hah.

Anyway, given Carol had slung a whole bunch of rapid-fire questions her way about the boys’ dietary requirements and August was fretting about being judged, April was reasonably sure her parents had come to terms with the fact her four best friends were giant walking turtles with comparative ease. It probably helped they’d been thrown into the deep end of things, even if it had led to super uncomfortable conversations and her parents staring at her as if they were expecting her to don a cape and go fight crime or some dumb stunt. It probably also helped that they knew Donnie and Mikey had come to bail her out, and that they were literally, y’know, responsible for saving the city.

Most of April’s nerves weren’t about the turtle aspect. It was whether her two families would like each other. Which was hilariously one of the most mundane things to worry about, considering literally everything else.

Story of her life, honestly.

She’d just finished squishing a pile of pillows into the corner of the couch when she heard her phone buzz, and fished it out.

Donnie: >> We’re here. Wardrobe check? Puppy eyes face.

Dumbonardo: >> Donnie has no class. 🥺

Donnie: >> Leo has no brain, but you already knew this.

She snorted. Then April glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Carol was busy with the oven and sidled toward the front door, slipping through as quietly as she could.

They were waiting there for her in the hallway. Splinter stood slightly apart from the boys, arms folded and looking sulky, but his fur was neatly washed and combed through and he was wearing a nice shirt which… was more flattering than some things she’d seen on him. April could be that generous. Donnie was wearing his sweater vest combo and standing ramrod straight like someone was about to push him onto a stage—no surprise there—and Mikey was wearing some nice slacks and an orange turtle-neck and beaming widely, carrying a casserole dish.

“Hiii, April,” he whispered. “We clean up good, right?”

“Puttin’ the rest of us to shame, Mikey,” she said with a grin, and gave him a fist bump.

“Speak for yourself,” Leo said lazily, draped over Raph’s shoulder like a blue and green fur stole. He was wearing one of his over-large hoodies; comfort over style, and April was relieved, to be honest. “I think Raph gives him a run for his money.”

April turned to take him in, and-- “Damn, son.” She gave a low whistle at Raph’s white suit and pink shirt, hanging on him pretty stylishly for all that his spikes had already done a number on his elbows. “You go shopping for that? Tell me you didn’t just have that hidden in your room this whole time.”

Raph preened a little before glancing down at the carpeted floor, pushing his fingers together bashfully. “We had to find something nice for Casey to wear anyway, so Raph thought—”

“Raph thought right.” April gave him a double thumbs up. And then frowned. She couldn’t see the last invited guest. “Is he not here?”

“Oh, he’s here,” Leo said quietly, a small helpless smile on his face. “He’s just shy.”

And Raph and Donnie separated so she could peer down the hallway; at Casey, who was literally lurking in the gloomy corner by the entrance to the stairwell, hunched as if trying to make himself small.

April frowned.

“Be nice, April,” Mikey whispered. “He’s, uh…”

“I get it.”

April made her way past them all, coming to a stop in front of Casey. He cleaned up pretty nicely, actually; she wasn’t sure who’d dressed him, but dress jeans and a nice jacket over a dark T-shirt nearly made him look like a different person. His hair was tamed and in a neat braid, and he looked up and gave her the shyest of smiles. “Hi, April. Sorry, uh…”

“Not used to the idea of family dinner?”

“Not really a thing where I come from, no.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing some of the strands to come loose, and she hid a grin. “But it’s not that. Um… are you sure I’m... welcome? I’m not really—”

“You think these guys would take you for a fashion montage if you weren’t?” she said drily. “Mom and Dad know you’re coming, trust me. They’ve made some simpler food just to make sure you can stomach it okay, and they’re looking forward to meeting all of this extended family. Which you are a part of.”

“Tooold youuu,” Leo sing-songed down the hall.

“Shut it, Nardo.”

“You can’t talk to me like that, I’m walking wounded—”

“Who’s walking?”

There was some general cackling. Casey’s next smile was more relaxed, and he let April tug him back down the hallway.

...and then they all jumped as the door to April’s apartment was flung open suddenly and her mother leaned casually in the open frame, tugging her oven mitts off, meeting their deer-in-headlights stares with a wry look of her own.

“Hi—um, that—um--” Donnie pushed forward and saluted her mother, and April clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh. “Hello, Mrs O’Neil! As you can see, I am a sweater vest—I mean—”

Leo made a strangled sound and flopped limply over Raph’s shoulder; he’d have slid down if Raph hadn’t reached out to steady him with a tired move that said he was very used to this happening. “Oh pizza supreme, don’t make me laugh, you know I’m fragile—”

Mikey slapped a hand over Leo’s mouth, smile bright and eyes a little too wide. “Hi, Mrs O’Neil!” he chirped. “It’s nice to meet you, we brought casserole!”

Said casserole was snatched out of his hands a moment later by Splinter, coughing dramatically before he gave a dramatic bow that meant he was mostly addressing Carol’s knees. “I brought casserole, in fact! It’s my traditional green bean casserole, handed down through generations, made for one of my biggest fans!”

Carol raised an eyebrow.

“Dad, we talked about this,” Donnie muttered.

“No, you talked about this,” Splinter huffed. “I was going to come dressed in style, until you rudely tackled me to the ground and took my clothes.”

Carol’s raised eyebrow took on a level of alarm, and April sidled up to her mother with a quick hiss. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“No, we did in fact do that,” Donnie said flatly. “Trust me, it was necessary.”

“...okay, it is as bad as it sounds—”

“My own sons,” Splinter grumbled. Then he straightened, beaming at Carol. “Children, am I right? Full of well-meaning hypocrisy. Sure, my son gets to dress as that hack Don Johnson, but when I try to dress as—”

“Yeah, Raph still doesn’t know who that is.”

Splinter wilted. To April’s delight, Carol seemed to wilt right along with him. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Well,” her mom said, dry as the desert. “If you’re done making us feel old as dirt, won’t you come in? Unless you want to spend the evening in my hallway doing more fashion checks. I could always bring you a mirror. But if you’ll take my word for it, I think you all look just fine.”

She stepped aside and they filed past, shuffling into the living room more bashfully than April had ever seen them, which was altogether kind of endearing. Carol paused long enough for April to close in with Casey still in hand, and gave him a warm smile that made him relax just a little more.

Then she hissed quietly to April, “Biggest fan?”

Eugh boy. “Yeah, you uh…” April trailed off, wondering if she could just deflect that question with a shrug as if to say she had no clue. But she knew Splinter; he would keep making comments, so better forewarned, right? “You know how you started watching Lou Jitsu movies with me? And, uh, how much you like them? To the point Dad threatened divorce if you mentioned Lou’s tight pants one more time?” Which was an empty threat, given Dad watched those movies almost as closely as her mom did, and April suspected it was for the same reasons. It had been a running joke for a while.

“Yes…?”

“Great! Get ready to be emotionally scarred.”

“...what?”

---------

They introduced themselves properly once they were all inside, and to her credit Carol was still smiling, even if April could see the faintly wild look in her eyes. At least she’d never told Splinter just how much her mom liked him-- enough to say she was a huge fan, nothing more.

“August will be here in a moment,” she said cheerfully. “He’s just finishing up with the roast, and then we’ll serve. You can call us Mr and Mrs O’Neil, or you can call us Carol and August. We don’t mind. It’s lovely to meet you at last. Donatello, your sweater vest looks great.”

Donnie jerked ramrod straight again, voice high-pitched. “Thank you!”

Bless her mom for throwing him a bone. April grinned. “So, this is Splinter, or Hamato Yoshi—”

“You can call me Lou,” Splinter said with a small bow, taking the casserole from his hands with his tail and depositing it onto the table with a flourish. April had never seen him like this. It was hilarious and painful, but the mortified looks on the guys’ faces made it worth it. (Casey just looked clueless. Lucky kid.)

“Nice to meet you, Lou,” Carol said, politely and as if April hadn’t upended her world not thirty seconds ago. Damn, but her mom was good. “And Donnie I’ve already met. Hmm, can I guess the others?”

“Oh, go ahead,” Leo said cheerfully, waving at her from his perch, and her smile softened considerably as she glanced up at him, taking in the curve of bandages just visible through the over-large neck of his hoodie.

“You would be Leo, then. You doing okay, sweetie?”

Leo blinked. “Uh… yes? I mean, of course! I mean—” He darted a look at April, eye ridges raised.

“She knows,” April assured him. “It’s okay.”

Leo grinned in response, letting himself flop loosely in Raph’s grip to finger gun with both hands, and April grinned as Raph obligingly kept hold of him and rolled his eyes. “I may be a little bruised, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs O! I also rock a mean sweater vest, but my brothers would only let me travel casual.”

“You’re lucky we let you come at all,” Donnie muttered.

“You’re just jealous because I, unlike some brothers I could mention, did not make my first impression in—”

Then he yelped as Splinter smacked him in the side of the head with his tail. A light smack, April noted with amusement, as Donnie flicked him from the other side. Clearly Leo was slowly losing all his coddling rights.

“Well, a little bruised or not, it’s nice to meet you too,” Carol said easily. “April did tell me you’ve been laid up until just recently, so we’ve made up the couch for you, okay? There’s no shame in tapping out early if you get tired.”

Leo blinked at her, looking taken aback. And then his answering smile was a faintly relieved, hesitant thing as he held out a hand for her to shake, voice small.

“Deal. Thanks, mom.”

You could have heard a pin drop.

“Mom?” Mikey said slyly.

Leo promptly went as red as his stripes and planted his face on Raph’s jacket. But he kept his hand out until Carol shook it—gently, holding back a laugh—and then went full limp noodle. “Case,” he whined. “Help me out here?”

Casey helpfully reached out to tug the hood over his head. Leo gave him a thumbs up.

April dissolved into cackling as Carol turned a carefully blank face on Raph. “April’s told me just enough about all of you, really. You must be Raph. And this sweet little man here must be Mikey?”

She was expecting a clap back from Mikey about being little, so April was very surprised when he just dimpled sweetly and gave her his best I-am-an-innocent-child impression. His cheeks were faintly flushed, and for the first time she wondered if she should be recording this for posterity. That was like… three blushes, so far.

“That’s right! Raph’s all gentle giant and I am just the sweetest little package, baby.”

“I’m sure,” Carol said, straight-faced. And then lastly she turned to Casey, and her smile was warm. “And you’re Casey Jones. Are you nervous?”

“A little,” he admitted, tugging at his braid but he smiled back. “But it’s so nice to meet you again. I mean—sorry, the first time, I’ve just heard a lot about you—”

April blinked, mouth open as she considered that particular insinuation. And wasn’t surprised when Leo’s head suddenly shot up, all sign of embarrassment gone and with a blinding smile. “Yeah, I gotta say April has told us so much about you guys that it does kind of feel like we’ve met you already!”

“Well, then,” Carol said lightly. “You’ll have to tell me all about yourselves to make us even. April’s told us a little this week, but it seems we might have years to catch up on.”

“We would be more than happy to regale you with tales of our exploits,” Splinter beamed back. “And in turn perhaps you could tell me your—”

“And we should all sit down because Dad’s probably almost done,” April said loudly. “Save the talking for after dinner! I’m starved.”

“I should help August bring the dishes out anyway.” Carol gave April a pointed look. “Hon? Would you give me a hand? The rest of you, table’s just through here…”

---------

“What do you mean that’s Lou Jitsu?” August hissed, handing April the cauliflower bake. “He’s a rat. Lou Jitsu isn’t a rat.”

“He is now, babe,” Carol said blandly.

“A rat with four turtle children?”

“And a human child.”

“How does that even—”

“Remember asking about the skeleton, sweet pea?”

“...okay, fine,” he muttered, nose wrinkling. “I’ll be good.”

April eyed them both. “Look at it this way, dad. The longstanding threat to your happy marriage has been removed.”

“April—”

“—O’Neil!”

She burst into giggles and skipped out of the kitchen, balancing the cauliflower and potatoes and the jug of gravy, and wasn’t surprised to find Mikey just outside the kitchen door, making grabby hands for her dishes. April cheerfully palmed them off and returned for more, grinning sunnily at the twin glares of her parents. “Anyway, Casey’s… uh, adopted? That’s the simplest way of explaining him.”

“Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting the one I find the strangest to be a normal human boy,” Carol mused. She frowned. “Is he the one from the, uh. Future?”

“The future,” her dad repeated back mechanically.

“Shush, dear.”

“Yeah.” And April had both a burning curiosity of how Casey knew her mother in the future and a dread to find out, because she was pretty sure none of them got happy endings where Casey came from. “Best to leave that well alone. Too heavy for a dinner topic.”

“Right. Future discussions are off the table,” August said, with a weary tone that said sure, fine, this might as well happen. “The invasion too, obviously. Anything else we haven’t already covered?”

“No. But just so you know,” April said mildly, “Rats have excellent hearing.”

She nudged aside her suddenly frozen parents, scooped up the roast tray, and sailed back out to the table.

Mikey took that from her, too, apparently intent on setting the table with a certain amount of flare, and April let him, more than happy to watch him handling pans that he might have had difficulty holding a week ago. She knew his arms were still bandaged under the sweater-- and knew also why he was wearing an actual turtleneck, no pun intended. The scarring up to his chin was still fading, but they’d stopped hurting days ago, leaving him with full range of movement.

(“Unless I’m really tired,” he’d said, giving her jazz hands at their last movie night. “So I’m still being careful.”

“Yes,” Draxum had said flatly. “It’s amazing how fast one heals when one actually pays attention to a mystic’s expert advice.” Mikey had thrown a pillow at him, end of discussion.

...which reminded her--)

“Hey, Mikey. Barry knows he’s invited, right?”

That earned her a predictable snort from Leo, who had been settled into a chair by Raph. “I’m not sure Draxum does family dinners.”

“You’d be surprised,” Mikey muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said what a surprise.” He twirled the roast tray once and settled it down on the table with flare. “He’ll be here. Just in time for dessert, he said! He’s looking forward to it.”

“Uh huh.” Donnie eyed him. “You threatened him, didn’t you?”

“I would never.” Mikey waved a finger at them, planting his other hand on his hip. “I merely pointed out it would be sad if he wasn’t included in this family get-together, given he is now family, unless he wants to deny any such attachment, and shunning a family dinner isn’t the proper or the neighbourly thing to do—”

“Oh, my apologies. You emotionally blackmailed him.”

“That’s better.”

“Why dessert?” April wanted to know.

“He’s, uh…” Mikey trailed off. “Well, it. Takes a while to bake brownies.”

Raph squinted. “Draxum is baking. Brownies.”

They all paused to take in that mental image.

“Oh, that’s not going to be edible,” Donnie muttered. “The guy can make a sandwich. Barely.”

“He can make a mean gruel, though,” April said wryly. “I mean. Literally.”

“I left him a recipe!” Mikey defended, though the way his shoulders hunched told April it was more out of loyalty than any actual belief in Barry’s capabilities. She frowned.

“Shoulda just told him store bought was fine, Mikes. Then he’d be here for dinner.”

Mikey gasped theatrically. “First of all, how dare you.” Leo gave a snort at his little brother’s affront and reached out for the gravy boat, flinching back when Mikey slapped his hand away without even looking. “Second! He wanted to try. You don’t want to hurt the nice goat scientist’s feelings, do you?”

“You want an honest answer?” Leo muttered. Mikey yanked his hood violently down over his face.

“Letting him try is just fine,” Splinter said with great generosity, leaning back in his chair. He’d been sporting the same cheesy grin since April walked back in from the kitchen, and that promised to be entertaining. But later. “When he fails, we can point and laugh—”

The way Mikey just teleported right in there to tower over his dad was impressive, and April reached out automatically to grab the back of Splinter’s chair before he could tip it all the way backwards in sheer terror. “We are not doing that.”

“No, we are not,” Raph said comfortingly, hands up as it to forestall a tiny mystic warrior explosion. “I know some will hate to hear it, but Draxum really pulled through for us. We should support him! In his, uh… domestic endeavours.”

“And his mad science endeavours.”

“Donnie.”

“What? I have my interests.”

“I do hate to hear it,” Leo said slowly, and they all turned to look at him as he peered out from his hood like some evil alternate Kermit!Leo. “Buuut you know. There’s petty, and then there’s mean. If he’s trying to be nice, let him try.”

There was silence at the table for a second time.

Then Donnie stood and pointed dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done with our brother?”

“Wow, Leo, that’s very mature of you,” Raph said suspiciously.

“I know, right?” Mikey wiped away a fake tear. “He’s come so far.”

“I am the very model of maturely letting my grudges go,” Leo said, stifling a yawn. “And if he accidentally poisons us all, I can hold it over you for at least a month.”

Oh. That was more like it.

---------

It took her parents longer than strictly necessary to bring out the rest of the food, and April was pretty sure they’d just been schooling their expressions into the most poker-faced they could, mortified by the knowledge that Splinter had probably overheard every word-- and honestly, given that Splinter occasionally gave a small muffled snort into his hand and tried to look innocent every time his sons stared at him, Carol and August were. Probably still talking about him. She was kind of glad she couldn’t hear them. April shoved his chair with a foot as she sat down and levelled him with mock glare over the rim of her glasses.

“Be nice,” she whispered severely.

Splinter leaned towards her to whisper back. “April, such little faith. I am already having the time of my life at this dinner. Why would I do anything to spoil the mood? I know how to act around fans.”

“These aren’t just fans, these are my parents.”

“Well, I know how to act around parents, too,” he said, waggling his eyebrows and outright leering, oh god. “I was a teenager, once, and dating was—”

“Please stop talking,” she hissed.

Splinter gave her a wide and mischievous grin, and that’s when it occurred to her he was being a little shit on purpose. But his smile faded, and he folded his hands delicately on the table in front of him. “Trust me. I know this is important.”

She breathed out. Yeah, okay. She did, after all, trust him, and he had dressed nicely for dinner. If he was truly set on arriving dressed as his eighties-Lou-Jitsu persona, April was pretty sure the guys wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

“What’s important?” Mikey said from the other side of the table, and she glanced up to find the others looking at them with curiosity.

“Good table manners,” Splinter said mildly. “Which means you should all stop leaning on the tablecloth like that. Elbows off!”

They all immediately pulled back and sat primly at the table, looking various shades of guilty—except for Casey, who flinched back from the tablecloth as if it might bite him. Poor guy had no reference for things like this, did he?

“Surprised you know decent table manners,” Donnie muttered.

“If it is such a surprise to you, I have failed as a father and we shall practice them more often at home.”

“Don’t you—”

“Leo,” April interrupted, watching Leo list faintly to the side. “You’re hurt. Nobody’s gonna care if you keep leaning.”

“Thank you,” he said fervently, and promptly flopped forward again, just as the kitchen door swung open.

Oh, good. Her parents had gotten over their crisis and were ready to feed the hungry. Carol hip-checked the door with her arms full of dishes and Mikey immediately jumped to his feet to help, and she shook her head at him, smiling gratefully. “I’m okay. But if you could help August with the glasses—”

“On it!” he said cheerfully and caught the door for her, holding it until she was clear before vanishing inside.

Carol smiled widely at the table and the guys smiled back, some smiles more natural than others—Donnie still looked like he was trying to get A Good Grade In Family Dinner—and she slid her burden of plates easily onto the table around the roast platter.

“Okay, so it’s a bit more buffet style than a usual roast dinner, but I thought that would be better, given I don’t know what you’d prefer. Casey, hon?” She favoured him with a warm look, and Casey straightened even more. “I’ve got both seasoned and steamed vegetables here, and a few alternatives in case the meat is too much for you to handle. The seasoned ones are on the spicy side. April tells me you’re still getting used to richer food?”

“Oh…” Casey blinked, darting a look at April that was both surprised and faintly grateful, and she huffed. She’d told him this already. Did he think she’d lied to him? “That’s—yes, that’s right, ma’am. I appreciate it, I’m sorry you had to go to so much effort—”

“None of that.” She handed him a plate. “This is a dinner for all of us. I’d feel like a lousy host if you couldn’t enjoy it. Pick and choose as you like, take it slowly. No one’s gonna judge. That includes the rest of you, just FYI.”

“No judgement!” Raph saluted, eyes darting to Donnie. “We appreciate it, Mrs O.”

“Thank you,” Donnie muttered quietly, eyes on the tablecloth.

“You’re very welcome.”

Mikey exited the kitchen with a tray of glasses and August trailed behind him with a collection of bottles-- soda and juice, and something that distinctly looked like the wine from the top of the fridge, and April squinted at it before raising an eyebrow at her dad.

“None for minors,” he whispered back. “Liquid courage.”

She snorted. “You’ll be fine.”

“But will your mom?”

“I heard that.” Carol snatched the wine away and deposited it by Splinter, whose eyes lit up. “Anyway. We’re sorry to keep you all waiting. Dig in! Don’t wait on us, there’s plenty for everyone.”

Leo put his hand up. “I admire your optimism, but I still vote Raph goes last. He’ll inhale everything here if he gets the chance—”

“Leo!” Raph sounded scandalised.

“What?” Donnie said, finally looking up with a more natural smirk on his face. “You know he’s right.”

“There’s a lot of me!” The poor guy was going as red as his mask, and April hid a grin. “You know Raph’s still a growing boy!”

“Raph can have as much food as he likes,” Carol said firmly, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder. God, April loved her mom so much. She was just rolling with this table of lunatics. “I honestly wasn’t sure how much to cook, so we’ve got plenty extra even if you do somehow inhale everything here. Just try not to inhale the dishes.”

“I would never,” Raph said, sounding horrified. “Turtle’s honour—”

April burst into giggles. “She’s joking, Raph, chill.”

“Oh.” Raph blinked. He met Carol’s gaze, who stared unflinchingly back and held up a hand.

Raph blinked again. Then he hesitantly gave her a high five, watched Carol’s smile grow, and finally grinned, the tension going right out of his shoulders.

April loved to see it.

“Aight, everyone,” she said, clapping her hands. “No more picking on Raph unless you want me to poke fun at you fussy eaters to make it even. Dig in, and don’t you dare insult my mama’s cooking.”

“We would never!” came the chorus.

Yeah. This should’ve happened years ago.

---------

The meal passed with some minor chatter—mostly complimenting the chef and asking for plates of food to be passed around. Mikey helped Casey pick out some simpler fare for his plate and he ate sparingly, but the expression on his face said he savoured every moment of it. Donnie was similarly picky for Donnie reasons, and looked faintly apologetic about the whole thing until April kicked him gently under the table and sent him a text.

April: >> Dad has sensory issues >> dw abt it

He relaxed a little after that, flashed her a small relieved smile, and even unwound from his stage fright enough to engage in conversation with her dad about the subway station and its abandoned trains. Mikey and Raph ate with their usual flare, though Mikey paused on each individual dish to gleefully exchange cooking tips with her mom. Splinter was surprisingly well-mannered, given April had seen him more than enough times with cake crumbs all throughout his fur.

Leo was being uncharacteristically picky, but he’d only come off a simple diet himself not so long ago, and the painkillers would be doing a number on his appetite. Raph and Donnie were both piling his favourites on his plate and he was clearly enjoying the food, but April had never seen him eating so slowly before, still balancing one arm on the table to support himself. Poor guy.

She wasn’t the only one to notice. Carol watched him waver and frowned. “You doing okay, Leo?”

He promptly flashed a peace sign at her, beaming. “Oh, for sure! I’m just a little low on energy. Kinda want a little bit of everything here, but—“

“Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak?”

“Hah…” His grin became rueful, and he lowered the fork to his plate. “Not weak enough to stop me eating your delicious food! Tragically, I have no devoted servant to feed me lovingly by hand, so I’ll make do.”

“Um—”

“That was absolutely a joke, Case, don’t you dare.”

April grinned at Casey as he wilted back into his own seat. But okay, yeah, she could read the signs—from Leo’s slouch, growing worse by the minute, and the glances from his brothers that probably weren’t as surreptitious as they hoped. April nudged her mother quietly and made a meaningful gesture toward the living room, and Carol gave her a thumbs up and kept smiling pleasantly as if nothing had happened. “Well, I’m glad my delicious food has such a draw to it. I heard Barry is gracing us with a visit and dessert, is that right?”

Donnie visibly shuddered, but Mikey beamed as if she’d complimented his six year old son’s bronze swimming medal. “Yeah! He’s making brownies! He assures me they’ll be edible.”

“Consider me assured,” Carol said dryly. “I must say I’ve never tried Barry’s cooking before this in any form. We invited him for dinner a few times but he always refused. I guess I know why, now.”

Splinter peered at her. “You do?”

“Well, uh…” She looked sheepish. “I never really saw him out of his robe. He seemed like such a shut-in at the time, but… I guess dressing for dinner might have given away a few things.”

“Ah yes, that sounds like Draxum,” Splinter muttered. “Shut-in, barely bothers dressing—”

“Sounds like someone else we know,” Leo said sweetly, and Splinter choked.

“Leo defended Barry,” Mikey whispered in awe, and Leo pointed his fork at him.

“Leo saw low hanging fruit and went for it,” he corrected. “Besides, something about houses and stones? Isn’t that how it goes? Don’t throw glass at a stone house, it’s pointless and makes a mess?”

“Nardo, that is not how it goes and you know it--”

Carol coughed politely. “If you’re done being mean to your elders…” They all shut up and tried to look innocent—save Splinter, who merely stared back at his sons mournfully as if he could not believe the wrong they’d done him. “It seems there might be a pause between dinner and dessert, so I was going to suggest you kids go pile up in the living room after and go through our movie collection. August and I can continue to pick on your dad in your absence.”

“You can?” Splinter said warily.

“In a manner of speaking.” Her smile was warm, and maybe only April saw the sharpness around its edges this time, and she swallowed. But… again, she knew this was coming, too. “A parent to parent talk, as it were. Nothing too serious, I promise.”

And it gave them a good reason to transfer Leo to the couch without him feeling like he was ruining anything. April grinned to see his eyes light up at the idea.

“Oh, are you roasting our dad, too? That seems so fitting given the spread—”

“I dunno, Leo, a roast followed by a roast seems a bit overkill,” Mikey said thoughtfully.

“There’s no such thing as too much delicious roast.” Leo leaned forward. Which also had the effect that he could support his weight entirely on the table, April noted. “We’d be more than happy to clear out of your amazing hair until the totally safe brownies arrive.”

Carol transferred her smile back to him, the sharpness gone. “You can take your plate with you, if you like. I don’t want you to feel you have to rush through eating. April, could you find him one of our TV trays?”

“I’m sure that’s doable.” Actually, at this point she had no idea if those had survived the home invasion, but there was one way to find out. “Is everyone else done? I could help clear the plates—”

“No, that’s fine, hon. Your dad and I will clear the table.” Carol gave her a peck on the cheek and a small, meaningful squeeze to her shoulder. “You stay with your friends. August?”

August blinked up at her, startled, half a potato still speared on his fork. “Oh, now? But I just-- okay.” And he shoved the potato into his mouth, fork and all, to gather up empty dishes.

Leo watched him do it, and smiled lazily.

Then there was a sudden quiet after both of them vanished into the kitchen, and he slumped forward.

“That was… an attempt at subtlety, right?”

April grinned. “Dad doesn’t do subtle too well, that’s for sure. But they’re parents, Leo. They’re just worried about you.”

“They only just met me,” he grumbled, resting his head on his arm. “They’re really nice, but—”

“My mom probably decided you were adoptable at about the point Donnie made high-pitched noises in her general direction, my guy. Just accept her concern and move on.”

“Oh. So good to know my humiliation had some kind of strategic effect,” Donnie muttered, reaching across the table to snag Leo’s plate. “You want any more while we’re here?”

“...I’m fine.”

“Well, Raph wouldn’t mind a bit more beef,” Raph said comfortably, sharing a glance with Casey over his head. “And some potatoes! We can just use Leo’s plate for that.”

“Blue?” Splinter was quiet and out of his chair, patting his knee, and Leo lifted his head to peer at him. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

“Man, all this fuss.” Leo grinned faintly. “I promise I’m fine--”

Mikey loomed on his other side, not saying a word.

“—okay, maaaybe I wasn’t quite ready for sitting upright at a table for so long.” He made a face. “But I refuse to be banned from the O’Neil family dinner! You know how long we’ve waited for this—”

“Well, congrats, achievement unlocked,” April said, holding out her fist, and he obligingly bumped it with his own. “Now go curl up on our couch and quit your whining.”

“I wasn’t whining!”

Donnie raised an eyebrow. “He whined, whiningly.”

“Raaaph, they’re picking on me!” Leo whined.

Raph raised an eyebrow. “You wanna complain about it some more or do you want the comfy couch?”

“...couch, please.”

---------

Splinter stayed at the table, waving them off dramatically with a napkin, but the smile he gave April as she left was reassuring. It settled her nerves a little—she wasn’t stupid, she knew what was coming—and so she trailed after Raph as he carted Leo into the living room and settled him on the couch, burying him in comforters.

The sigh of relief Leo made as he sank into the cushions was more than enough to convince her that the move was well timed. “Heaven. I think everyone at family dinners should laze on a couch, honestly.”

“We’d need more couches for that.”

“That could be arranged,” Donnie said, passing a bottle to Casey and then… dropping to his hands and knees to investigate the carpet. What. April folded her arms and watched him.

“I think they’d need more room for the couches,” Casey said, opening the bottle—and oh, those were Leo’s painkillers.

“That could also be—”

“Donnie.” She scowled at him. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the damage,” he said absently, finally finding the edge of the carpet section and peeling it back, scowling at the torn up flooring beneath. “Huh. Bishop really refused to help pay for this?”

“Yeah, well. Bishop also didn’t arrest me for, I dunno, cavorting with evil yokai or whatever, so. I’ll take it.”

“This balance doesn’t add up,” Leo said mildly, taking his pills from Casey and his glass of juice. “Mr Edgelord also put you in danger in the first place. And your parents. Who we are adopting, by the way.”

“I don’t think it works that way—”

“It does, I don’t make the rules. Donnie, verdict?”

“Huh?” Donnie peered up at him. “Oh yeah, yeah, I guess we can adopt.”

“I meant the floor. But okay! Duly noted.”

Mikey started cackling as April threw her hands up and went on a hunt for the TV trays. Donnie blinked at Leo for a moment, then turned back to run his hands over the damage, flicking his goggles down. “I’m not much of a handyman type, but it looks like the structural integrity is intact. It’s just cosmetic and not particularly safe to walk on in the dark. Though that… is an understatement. The Krang did this?”

“Barry did, actually.” The TV trays had survived after all. April fished one out from its hiding place and passed it over to Raph. “But if he hadn’t, I’d probably be kind of torn to pieces, so--” She broke off to smile softly at Raph as he full-body flinched, and then stumbled as Mikey latched onto her like a koala. “Sorry. Anyway, I figure I’d give him a pass on that one.”

Leo slow blinked at her, resting his chin on the back of the couch, and his smile was an oddly cold one. “Yeah. Seems fair. Donnie, you still got a back door into Bishop’s stuff and things?”

Donnie hadn’t looked up, and his voice was very flat. “First of all, stuff and things is like literally the lamest way you could explain a black ops infrastructure, and second of all, why is it you just assume I would still be in his systems now that we’re—”

“Dee.”

“He’s upgraded his security in the past week. I’m doing the digital equivalent of eating popcorn and sidestepping his laughable experts.”

“Good to know. I s’pose getting on his nerves wouldn’t be the smart thing to do right now.”

“It is the opposite of smart. But the EPF is already footing the bill for the O’Neil hotel stay, I don’t see why they can’t shell out for the floor as well.” Donnie finally sat up, flicking his goggles back, and frowned at the scratched walls. “New paint job all round, actually.”

Leo nodded in satisfaction and settled into his nest of comforters, taking the tray from Raph who was surprisingly… not seeming even slightly upset about the whole idea of stealing money from a bunch of amoral secret agents.

April opened her mouth and shut it. “Uh—”

Donnie finally smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“Seriously, he deserves it.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about!” she snapped, and she waved an arm at Donnie as aggressively as she could with Mikey still limpet-clinging to her from behind. “You guys are on thin ice with him as it is—”

“So?” Leo said, eyes drifting shut. “He’s also on thin ice with us.”

“April.” Donnie finally got to his feet to regard her intently, leaning on the edge of the couch and deftly avoiding Leo’s attempt to nudge him with a foot. “I see you’re worried, but please give me some credit for basic money laundering tactics. The man’s never going to notice where the money actually went, if he even notices it’s gone at all. He’s got bigger fish to fry and it’s not as if we took millions.”

“You know, it says a lot when you say ‘basic money laundering tactics’ and everyone just rolls with it,” she said wryly, but her hackles settled a little. Bishop did deserve a little payback. She just didn’t want them painting even more of a target on their backs. “Raph? You sure you’re okay with this?” He was quiet and looked a little troubled, so--

“Well, see, the thing you gotta remember is…” Raph paused, clasping his hands together in front of him for a moment, and then exhaled gustily.

“...Raph only got to hit him once.”

There was a brief pause.

Leo burst into laughter, then hissed an ow and sank out of sight onto the couch, which caused Raph to dive for him with a panicked look. April wasn’t particularly concerned, given she could see Donnie rolling his eyes. She huffed a faint laugh herself, finally relaxing, and was rewarded with a squeeze of her shoulders and a full hug from behind.

“He messes with family, we mess with him!” Mikey said cheerfully in her ear. “Just go with it, April. You know Donnie covers his tracks.”

“Hmm.” But she smiled anyway, reaching up to pat his head. “Okay. Not gonna complain, as long as I can find a way to explain to my parents. But seriously—don’t go getting arrested or dissected or whatever on my account.”

“Depends on if we get a sequel or not,” Leo wheezed from the couch, resurfacing as Raph helped him sit back up.

“You sure you’re okay?” Raph said, still fretting.

“Oh, peachy. I can’t believe you punched a government agent and I didn’t get to see it.”

“Skill issue,” Donnie said, sounding bored. “Don’t get kidnapped next time, idiot.”

“Wow, rude. Raph, throw a pillow at him for me.”

“Yeah, Raph’s not doing that. Eat your dinner.”

“Aw, c’mon--”

A cushion sailed across the room and clipped Donnie in the face, sending him reeling backward, and Mikey caught it on the rebound, hollering. “For Leo’s honour!”

“You got kidnapped too, you know—”

“For my honour! For everyone’s honour except yours!”

“GASP!”

And the room promptly descended into chaos, which honestly she’d been expecting sooner than this. April just grinned, clicking her phone camera on to record Mikey’s subsequent attempted pillow beat-down of a hissing Donatello. Raph alternated between snorted laughter, half-hearted attempts at lectures, and trying to keep Leo’s tray of food balanced while Leo picked roast potato daintily off the plate with his fingers like popcorn, observing the proceedings with glee. He caught April’s filming and nearly choked, before sinking back out of sight on the couch again with a wave of his greasy fingers as April giggled.

It took her a few moments to realise that Casey had vanished from the room.

---------

“They sound like they’re having fun,” Carol noted.

“They’re probably destroying your living room,” Splinter replied glumly, taking the glass of wine August offered him. “Boys.”

“I’m sorry. Have you seen our child?”

“...teenagers.”

“Better.” Carol grinned and offered her own glass for a toast. “Here’s to new friendships?”

“Very traditional!” But he beamed anyway, clinking against her glass and then August’s. “To new friends and old fans. Aaand awkward conversations.”

Ah. “Kind of obvious, isn’t it?”

“A little.” His smile faded, showing a seriousness that seemed somehow out of place. “But you are good parents and April thinks the world of you. If we did not have this conversation, I would be a little concerned.”

August took his seat again, sitting far more relaxed now that the kids had gone, and tapped the rim of his own glass. “Your boy, Leo. How did he get so hurt?”

Something flickered through Splinter’s eyes that she couldn’t quite catch, and he stared down at his wine, mouth twisting. “A very long story. All of my boys were hurt during the invasion, but Blue unfortunately took the brunt of it. I am as proud of them as I was terrified for them.” His voice was far too mild for that statement and all the depth it contained, and Carol bit her lip as he tossed half the glass back.

Then he beamed at them. “But that is not the question you really want to ask.”

No. No, it wasn’t.

Carol needed to know, but she wasn’t sure how to phrase it and found herself hesitating for other reasons besides—so she glanced to August, who had a knack for being terribly blunt at times. He gave her a brief nod, and put his glass down.

“How safe is our daughter?”

Straight to the point. Splinter took a smaller drink, and met his gaze.

“All things being equal, far safer than the average teenager.”

August frowned unhappily, and his voice was flat. “She was involved in an alien invasion. They came to our house. Her nose was broken—”

“Lou,” Carol said softly. “We’re just worried about her. Your boys weren’t just here for the invasion, they fought on the front line. And so did she. Didn’t she?”

“Your daughter,” Splinter said steadily, “Took out one of those aliens with a wrecking ball. She blinded it, one eye at a time.”

“Is that meant to make us feelbetter?” August demanded, and Splinter turned a sober gaze on him. “We know April can look after herself. She shouldn’t have to. How much danger is she in just by associating with your family?”

“August.” Her voice was sharper that time.

“I’m sorry,” her husband said more quietly. “I don’t mean it quite like that—they’re obviously good kids. You should know, the turtle and rat thing is… confusing, but in the end that isn’t what this is about.”

Splinter smiled a little. “What this is about is that you think my boys dragged April into their fight and made her a target. Has April ever told you how long she has known them for?”

August paused, but it was only to calculate the passage of time. They both knew when it was that April had come home talking about the boys she’d met on the roof. Six… seven years ago? Maybe eight? And...ah.

“This is the first time she’s been in trouble,” Carol said, feeling relieved. She understood. After all, holding an alien invasion against Splinter’s family would be extremely rude. April could have been hurt worse if she didn’t know such powerful people--

“Oh no,” Splinter said bluntly. “She’s definitely been in trouble before this.”

“...what?”

“Let’s see…” He sipped his wine. “She’s been captured by your upstairs neighbour at least twice by my count—”

“What.”

“Don’t make those faces, he was nice enough to let her go again. Then there was the fiasco with Big Mama and Shredder, the yokai train, tangling with the Foot clan and fighting at the stadium—”

August stood up. “I’m sorry, she was at the stadium? When that maniac was threatening to wipe out the human race!?”

Splinter raised an eyebrow. “You do know who that maniac was, don’t you?”

---------

April found Casey in her bedroom—or half in, half out, leaning out the window and breathing in the night air. She could hear sharp voices carry over from the kitchen window, and distorted with only a word here or there making it through, but she recognised her mother’s voice all right, shrill with stress, and winced. Splinter had said to trusthim. She was wondering if that had been a bad call.

She sat on the window ledge next to Casey, and he jumped, smacking his head on the window frame before ducking back inside. “Commander—I mean. April. Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“To get some space?” she asked dryly.

“Well…”

Casey rubbed his head for a moment with a wince, then pulled himself inside, and April listened briefly to the yelling before she decided to resist all temptation and closed the window. She didn’t want to hear it, really. It would just make her feel awful and she’d be hearing the fallout soon enough.

“I did come out for space, and to see where the rats, uh. Came in. Or tried to? I felt—felt like it should be looked at,” Casey said awkwardly. “The eavesdropping was unintentional.”

“I believe you,” April said easily. She did. He wasn’t the type—or at least, she didn’t think so. None of them knew him too well, yet. “All quiet on the rat front?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean… evil alien rats, anyway.” He smiled a little. “I think there’s some normal ones further down.”

“Guess we’ll have to live with that.”

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the laughter coming from the living room. Her light was off, but there was enough coming in from outside that she could just catch Casey’s wistful look at the door, and April nudged him gently with a shoulder.

“You wanna go back out?”

“...in a minute. Just… getting my head in order.”

“Too busy? Too loud?” She hesitated. “Weird seeing more people you used to know?”

He jumped a little at that, turning to look at her in the gloom. “How did you—”

“Kind of obvious, Future Boy,” she said dryly. “’Nice to meet you again’?”

“Aheh.” He ducked his head. “Yeah, I guess I’m not so good on the spot. I was… trying to prepare myself for seeing them again, but it was so different once I did.”

“More of a shock than meeting those idiots again?” She gestured toward the living room.

“A little. The turtles—when they grow up, they’re a lot bigger. Sensei is so much taller! And Uncle Raph was huge.” He smiled, looking down at his hands. “And like-- you were an adult. Commander O’Neil. I knew what you would all look like from the photo, and it was kind of like… meeting you all for the first time, even though-- well. It’s complicated.”

He really wasn’t good at it, was he? Not giving things away. Sensei is taller. Raph was huge. It told her so much. It was painful, and a small part of her turned over in grief-- an empathetic grief for the kid next to her, a pang of knowing it could have been so much worse. She was so relieved she could hear Raph through the door. (...yelling “Not the gravy!” which, eugh boy, okay, she would pretend she didn’t hear that.)

Then it occurred to her what Casey was trying to say, and April froze. It didn’t mean anything. They’d avoided the whole apocalypse thing. But--

“My parents… they look the same to you?”

Casey shrugged. “Well, they’re already grown adults. They’re not gonna get another five feet taller or something weird.”

Oh. Oh, that was… she was an idiot. “Hah,” she said after a moment with a small laugh. “For a sec, I thought you meant they like... died young. Or—”

And she felt the silence change, in that dark room.

An idiot twice over—looking at the crystal stillness of Casey’s reaction to her opening her dumbass mouth, April curled up on the seat next to him and knew she’d basically tripped into a minefield. A personal one, because this wasn’t just people Casey had known and grieved.

They’re not dead. They were yelling at Splinter two rooms over, words echoing off the fire escape outside, and she tried to focus on the more rational dread that they were gonna try and stop her from seeing the guys. But…

...she couldn’t stop her stupid brain from picking over the what ifs.

Casey saved her the struggle, touching her arm gently in the dark. “Do you…” He swallowed and tried again. “You wanna hear about them? I’ve probably given you the wrong impression. Well… half of one.”

She found her voice, rough, and forced a smile. “Not if it’s gonna stress you out. Besides—” And this time she stopped herself in time, because saying it’s never gonna happen now, right? to someone who had lived those events was so cheap and awful. It had sure happened for Casey.

“I don’t mind,” he said. “Uh, if you want to know… it might. Actually help.”

Share the grief, huh. Let him not be alone with some of this.

April breathed out. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

---------

“Oh! And there was that one time when she accidentally got a job with an evil ninja organisation, but now that I think about it that was sheer bad luck...”

Carol was getting a headache. She refilled her glass, trying to sort out whether she wanted to laugh or scream or just throw a wine bottle at Lou, which definitely hadn’t featured on her list of Ways To Impress Him before she realised he was now a mutated father of four turtle boys. August had left the room, but the door to the kitchen was open and so she knew he was still listening; he was going through the bottles on the fridge perhaps a touch more violently than he needed to.

“Lou,” she said wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I don’t get you. I would have thought you’d be trying to show us how safe she was with you, not—”

“Not be honest?”

She startled, glancing up to find him watching her shrewdly, and the smile that tucked into the corner of his mouth was an amused one, which made her bristle. Splinter put down his empty glass—his second glass, and he was still very sober in a way she wished she was not—and leaned forward. “Sure! I could have said, ‘Mr and Mrs O’Neil! My boys lead very boring lives! The worst scrape they’ve ever been in was an unfortunate one involving a skateboard and a cat and one too many magnets, and this alien invasion was a complete anomaly! Of course it will never happen again!’ That certainly is one way to lie to your face. I can think of more subtle attempts, but—”

“So you’re making fun of us?” August’s voice wafted from the kitchen, curt, and there was the snap-fizz sound of a fresh can of something being opened. Lord, Carol hoped it was strong and her husband was about to share. “You’re treating this whole situation with such irreverence that—”

“August.” Her voice was too sharp, and she softened it before she continued. “He’s not making fun. Maybe he’s being a bit of an ass, but—”

“I’m being a whole ass, thank you very much,” Splinter said mildly, and she pointed at him, baring her teeth.

“You are not helping. Tell me why.”

He raised his eyebrows at her in genuine curiosity. “Why be honest? Seriously?”

Carol paused, retort dying on the tip of her tongue.

Because. Because while he was telling them in the most irreverent way, it was the truth. Their lives were crazy and chaotic, and he was saying to expect nothing less. That the insanity of their lives had reached out and snagged their daughter at an early age, that—that she’d already been a target before these aliens came along. That Barry wasn’t who he said he was, had been a danger well before this and she’d been trying to introduce him to a daughter he’d apparently already kidnapped twice by that point--

Wait. That didn’t make sense.

“Barry saved April from the zombies,” she said slowly. “And reunited us. Are you saying that’s an act?”

“Good grief, no.” He tapped his empty glass and made a mournful sound, and one ear twitched back. “Much as I hate to give him any credit, Draxum is a changed goat. There is much behind his early motivations that I enthusiastically suggest you ask him about, if for no other reason than that it would be funny! But he just needed to see the bigger picture—that not all humans seek the destruction of anything they don’t understand.” He raised his eyebrows. “I am not sure if he would have come to that conclusion so quickly if it were not for your daughter. She is absolutely his favourite human, you know.”

There was a soft click as August exited the kitchen, shutting the door softly behind him. He came bearing another two bottles of wine and an opened can of Twisted Tea. Carol smiled at him, and he smiled back tiredly, a smile that faded into seriousness as he looked at Splinter. “Do you trust him?”

“With everything but money and my dignity,” Splinter said at once. “He’s a jerk, but he’s our jerk, I suppose.”

“You could have led with that.”

“I could have,” he said agreeably. They waited for him to explain further.

He didn’t.

“Okay,” Carol said finally, accepting the can from her husband and nodding as he refilled glasses all round. “So, what? You gave us a litany of horrific danger that our daughter has been involved with because…”

“Because to lie would have been extremely disrespectful, and you both seem strong enough to take the truth—oh thank you—” To August as his glass was refilled, and he snatched it up. “Of course I do not want you to separate the children. But you are both her parents, and good people, and you deserve to know all the facts so you can make a decision without any of us pretending that anything about this is normal.”

“As if it were as easy as that,” August muttered. “She’s already eighteen.”

“Well, that’s a you problem, I’m afraid.” Splinter sipped his wine. “But I’ve told you all about the disaster situations our children like to land themselves in. That’s only the ones I know of, mind you.”

“That’s so much better, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” He cackled, offering his glass up for a toast. Carol gave him one, half-heartedly, and he favoured her with a softer smile.

“Now, I have a question for you,” he said. “How often has she come home hurt? Upset? Scared?”

August went to retort and then paused, looking thoughtful. Carol glanced between them both and frowned, thinking back. April had been hurt before… there was a sprained ankle she knew had come from an accident at school. A few minor bruises from early scraps with that girl with the purple hair. Nothing she wouldn’t expect from an outspoken teenage girl who picked fights with bullies.

Nothing that had raised alarms, until now. Until April’s poor face, bruising turning her skin even darker, coated in dust with blood in her hair, because aliens had attacked them directly. Because Agent Bishop had set them up as bait, which was a fault that could be laid at his doorstep, not the Hamatos’.

It took an alien invasion.

“I cannot make promises about how safe she will be. How safe any of them will be.” Splinter spoke gently now, drawing circles around the rim of his glass with a claw. He glanced up to meet their gaze. “Chaos magnet teenagers, the lot of them. But I will tell you that she is their big sister, and they would never let anything happen to her. And I will protect my family with everything I have. All of them.” He paused, then flashed a small smile. “It turns out I don’t do too bad a job!”

“All things being equal, you said,” Carol murmured.

“Yes, well. One would hope we don’t have to deal with anything as ridiculous as alien invasions again.” Splinter made a face. “They’re so exhausting! Barring city-destroying events, I truly think your daughter is safer than the average teenage girl. And I swear, large amounts of time go past in which the most exciting thing to happen is we’re late returning a DVD to the store, or the pizza order is wrong.” He paused. “...actually, that second one is generally a cause for alarm—”

Carol snorted in amusement, and she was relieved to see a faint smile on August’s face as well. “So. Family, huh?”

“Er, well. I know she already has a father and all,” Splinter muttered. “Just think of me as, I don’t know, cool wine uncle Randall.”

“Randall?”

“Oh, and while you are considering what to do—” Splinter put his hands together. “Please take into account that we would miss her a great deal. But also, she is the intelligent one. I would appreciate it if you did not remove the brain cell from my boys…?”

Carol grinned outright. “I’m sorry, are you sure you know my daughter that well? Because—”

---------

Carol O’Neil died when Casey was seven.

“There weren’t a lot of kids on base,” he said. “I mean-- there were bunkers, and civilians and their families mostly hid there, all through the cave systems below us… but for kids whose parents were active soldiers and had no one else-- I think there was maybe four of us all up. My mom and yours knew each other pretty well. Mrs O’Neil gave her a lot of advice about kids. I mean, my mom was your age, so…” He paused, staring into the darkness for a long moment with a mild frown. “You guys were friends, too. A long time ago.”

“Your mom and me?” April asked tentatively.

“Yeah. So I got to see you guys a lot as a kid. You worked out in the field more with my mom, and you’d both come back after days on end and mom would demand reports from the playroom and you’d laugh at her.” He grinned at her in the gloom. “But I’d see Mrs O’Neil a lot more because she stayed at base. I think she did a lot of behind the scenes stuff—I was too young to really get it. But I know she looked after us, too, and made sure we ate and got clean and slept safely. Ran drills for us on what to do if we were attacked. Where to run, where to hide. That kinda thing.”

Wonderful way for a kid to grow up. She gave him a small smile. “Mom does like to boss people around. She’s real nice about it, though.”

“Yeah, she is. And she’s, uh. Fierce when threatened.”

And a mama bear through and through. The Krang tried to take out the base while diverting most of the resistance fighters to another location, and they had to run. And Carol had made them go first and put herself between a bunch of scared kids and a pack of Krang war dogs. Casey didn’t see it happen. But he heard it, on the other side of the heavy trap door, too small to really understand what was going on, huddling with three other kids in the corner of the tiny secret basement.

He spared April the details. Her imagination had no problem filling them in for him, and April curled her knees up to her chest, wishing she couldn’t see it so clearly. A sick feeling curled in her gut, and she tried to remind herself her parents were still two rooms over with Splinter, but--

“It was a bad day for… everyone,” he said slowly. “The Krang hit us hard on two fronts, and we lost a lot of people that day. Including—” He broke off, and winced. “Well. Sensei and Master Donatello were the ones that pulled the survivors out, and I don’t remember much following. But I know the base was trashed and we had to move. That… happened, sometimes. Less as time went on.”

So her mom was a casualty among… dozens? Hundreds? More? She had trouble wrapping her head around the numbers and, if she were being honest, April didn’t want to think too hard about it. It was awful enough as it was. There was an odd, terrible relief that her mom hadn’t been singled out somehow. Because she’d seen what the Krang liked to do when they hated someone personally.

It was still a horrible way to die.

(There were no good ways to die in an apocalypse, huh?)

“You okay?”

She blinked, and found Casey much closer than he’d been a moment ago, hovering in concern, and April unclenched her fingers from each other and gave him a wan smile. “Hey, I knew going in it wouldn’t be pretty. I’m more worried about you.”

“You don’t need to be,” he said softly. “This was a long time ago.”

“Time doesn’t magically make things better.”

“I guess not,” he murmured. “But I grew up with this story. This is the first time you’ve heard it.” And he sounded so apologetic about it that she patted his shoulder.

“S’okay, Future Boy. I appreciate knowing. My mom was a total badass to the end, right?”

His smile was hesitant, but there all the same. “Right.”

She took a breath. “So, in for a penny, blah blah blah. If you’re up for it…?”

“...yeah.”

“Dad… did he outlive Mom?”

“By a whole lot.” His smile faded. “I really didn’t know him much until after Mrs O’Neil passed. And then he was kind of everywhere. He threw himself right into intelligence support, and he was so good at it—his strength was logistics and efficiency of movement on a mass scale, and we were still struggling with organisation, so… he and Master Donatello worked together a lot. He wasn’t a fighter, your dad, not like your mom. But he knew his stuff, and I know a lot of his ideas helped keep our home safe and our supply lines going as long as possible. He worked way too much—you came to drag him back to his room so many times.”

Wow. Was it weird to feel proud of her future and now non-existent dad? She hoped he’d never have to go through something similar. August was generally a laid back, quieter guy who enjoyed his trains and ships as hobbies.

That he’d weaponised his knowledge was amazing, but also heartbreaking. April could read between the lines just fine—he buried himself in work because Mom was dead.

“I can’t tell you exactly how he...uh.” Casey bit his lip. “We were always kind of awkward around each other. I think because of Mrs O’Neil. So I kept my distance.”

April frowned. “He can’t possibly have blamed you kids for Mom’s death. I’ll kick his ass. I’ll march right into the kitchen now--”

That surprised a laugh out of him. “No! No, I don’t think he did. But… you know. She died, and we were there. I think… it was just a reminder. And every time I saw him, I’d remember her too, and it just—it was like this presence in the room, I guess. By the time both of us got around to being rational about it, things were just weird. And I wasn’t really a logistics guy and had other places to be, so… we just let things go.”

She wondered what had happened to the other kids. The answer was obvious, given… well, everything. April kept her mouth shut and let Casey tell her the rest: that, actually, her Dad had survived up until the last days before Casey was thrown through Mikey’s time portal. That it was only when they were close to a full rout that he finally fell, along with the rest of the base personnel. That, as far as Casey knew, April had been with him when he died.

And by the clipped, hesitant way he spoke, constantly glancing to her as he paused and searched for words—giving her this heavily edited version, trying not to give her any other information—April could gather that she’d probably died at the same time.

That they all had, maybe. With the base down, and the guys choosing to send Casey back more than twenty years instead of continuing to fight…? That was some Terminator shit right there. Only this time, the good guys were the ones that lost. That wasn’t exactly a surprise; it had been kind of obvious since Casey first arrived. Time travel was a last resort kind of option.

In the future, they all died.

April wished that changing the future would wipe the slate clean for Casey, too. For the rest of them, it was a case of Hooray! Disaster averted! and they could be relieved that none of this would ever happen. But it had, for one of them. She wondered how he was going to cope with that.

“...sorry.”

Annnd he was apologising to her again. April wrinkled her nose—gingerly, it was still healing, stupid Krang—and flicked him on the forehead, smiling grimly at his yelp. “Casey Jones, I’m fine. Is this why you didn’t want to meet my parents?”

Casey blinked at her owlishly in the dark, and then pulled back, looking guilty. “What? N-no, I did, I swear—”

“Lemme put it another way,” she said, taking pity on him. This kid still took everything so seriously. But, you know. Justified and all. “Is this why you were so nervous about it?” More ninja than the guys, hiding in the one gloomy patch of hallway and trying to be invisible. But he could probably have gotten away with not coming for any number of reasons, so the fact that he was willing to try…

“...a little,” he allowed after a moment. “I mean—I know it’s dumb. Your parents—your dad has never met me in this time. But I kept thinking he’d take one look at me and just kind of… know.” He paused, then ran hand through his hair sheepishly. “Not very rational, I guess.”

April smiled. “Nah. But it still makes sense. And you made it through dinner okay, right?”

“Yeah.” He smiled back. “Your parents are really nice. I can tell the guys like them, too.”

“Don’t remind me. They’re threatening to adopt.”

“...does it work that way in the past?”

She couldn’t help the snort of laughter at his genuine confusion. “Oh, man. We so have to give you a crash course in literally everything, don’t we.”

“Probably,” he said wryly. And paused again, before sighing. “Also, I think they finally worked out we’re not in the living room anymore.”

April blinked at him, and then turned toward the door—and yeah, it had gone suspiciously quiet out there. She put a finger to her lips, grinning at Casey, and reached down for her Journalism and Media Studies text book.

Then she threw it at the door hard and burst into laughter at the girlish shriek that came from the other side. Even Casey gave a soft huff of amusement as the door was flung open a moment later by Donnie, Mikey sprawled on the ground behind him.

“See,” Raph grumbled in the distance, “I told you guys—”

“April O’Neil,” Donnie demanded, “Are you throwing books at us?”

“It’s the outdated thing they gave us in class that you found the newer edition of.”

“In that case, carry on.”

“Don’t carry on,” Mikey wheezed, rolling up to his feet. “Books are scary.” And he dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “Also, Leo is asleeep.”

Oh, whoops. April glanced at the sofa, where Leo’s hood and red stripes could just be seen under the comforter, Raph sitting in front of him and polishing off the last of Leo’s food. She lowered her own voice to something more reasonable. “Then you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”

“Of course we were!” Donnie proclaimed, arms folded. Then winced. “--n’t. Weren’t eavesdropping. Don’t be ridiculous, we were merely concerned that you had run into emotional difficulties of some—” Mikey smacked him in the shoulder. “I mean. Eaten by rats. Because rats. Are a thing in these parts. Zombie rats. They could still be here.”

“Uh huh.” She folded her arms. “Casey?”

He honest to god saluted her with a perfectly straight face. “No rats in the apartment, Commander. Could be a liar or two, though.”

Raph snorted, choking on his mouthful of beef as Donnie gaped at them. Mikey planted his face on Donnie’s shell and gave a muffled giggle. “Someone tell Casey the house rules—”

“We have house rules now?” April wanted to know.

“Uhh, something something don’t be funny while people are eating?” Donnie suggested. “You nearly killed Raph.”

Raph pointed in their general direction but said nothing, still coughing.

“That’s not a house rule. That’s something you came up with to get Leo to shut up and eat.”

“In our defense, his puns are very painful,” Donnie noted. “Also, how long has he been Dumbonardo in your phone?”

“My—” She glanced down to see her phone in his hand, and April snatched it back. “Give me that.”

“I was updating it for you.”

“With what?”

“Answer the question and I’ll answer yours.”

She glared, but after poking at her phone to make sure he hadn’t put Yet Another Firewall on it, April gave a shrug. “Since the invasion.”

“Hmm. Some might say I am required to speak in my beloved brother’s defense, but I merely question why you didn’t do it earlier.”

Raph finally found his voice, still pointing. “Don’t use Raph as an excuse. Also Leo went to sleep, like, five minutes ago—you sure you wanna be roasting him like this?”

“It’s a night for roasts,” Mikey said sagely. “Speaking of, d’you think we can stick a fork in Dad and call him done yet?”

“I don’t know,” Splinter said from behind the couch. “Can you?”

They all yelped and jumped away from him—with the exception of Leo, who let out a small snore, and Casey, who just lifted a hand and waved. Splinter beamed at them and continued picking his teeth clean with a nail which, ew. April made a face. “When did you get in here?”

“A good ninja never reveals his secrets.”

“Oh, so you’re going to tell us everything—”

Splinter’s tail cracked into Donnie’s head, and April cackled, flopping into the armchair as he waved a finger. “The O’Neils will be in shortly! I came to warn you in advance so you can repair all the damage you’ve done.”

“Huh?” Raph’s brow furrowed. “What damage? If you’re talking about the gravy, we dealt with that—”

“There was no gravy,” Donnie said swiftly, and April immediately started scanning the cushions and the carpeting with dread. “It’s all in your imagination.”

“Who cares about gravy?” Splinter hissed, flailing his arms in dramatic outrage. “What about what you’ve done to the walls?”

They stared back at him in disbelief.

“Okay, first of all, that wasn’t us,” Donnie said, voice flat. “Second, I admire your faith that we can somehow put the walls back to rights in the moments we have before the O’Neils descend upon us with whatever imagined wrath you think we deserve—”

April raised a hand, sighing. “In light of Leo being asleep, let me be the one to tell you that was totally Draxum, and the walls were like that before you guys arrived.”

“Draxum, you say?” Splinter said gleefully. “I mean—oh no, your poor walls.”

“Hey, he did it saving April!” Mikey defended.

“Yeah, he’s off the hook for that one,” Raph said, ruffling Mikey’s mask tails. “You can blame him for a lot of things, but—”

“I’m sorry,” Draxum drawled, towering behind Raph suddenly. “What am I being blamed for now?”

They all yelped and scrambled in the opposite direction. Except for Casey, who waved again, and Leo, whose snoring took on a more stubborn sound, and April eyed him suspiciously. Draxum loomed over them all, dressed in a surprisingly nice kimono, its stylishness ruined somewhat by the traces of chocolate staining its sleeve, and he was holding a tray that was…

...gurgling. Huh.

Splinter recovered first. “Everything I can possibly get away with, and surprise ninja entrances are my thing! Get your own!”

Draxum raised an eyebrow. “Surprise ninja entrances? I walked through the door. Perhaps your supposed ninja family needs more training in observation.”

April glanced behind him to see that, yes, the door to the kitchen was open, and Carol was leaning against the frame watching them all. She caught April’s stare and grinned, offering her a wink.

And April relaxed. Whatever her parents had talked about with Splinter, it had turned out okay.

Draxum eyed them a moment longer, then gave a disdainful sniff and set the tray down on the coffee table. It was full of brown, bubbling and uneven sludge, and an attempt to slice it into squares had clearly been made before the pieces melted back together again. They surrounded it and eyed it dubiously.

“Brownies,” Draxum said proudly. “I grew them myself.”

Mikey peered at him. “Don’t you mean baked—”

“I said what I said.”

There was silence as they all stared down at what, honestly, looked a little like a horror story. Like a village buried under a sudden mud slide, maybe. The lumpiness did remind April a little of tiny drowning people, and the fact that it was still bubbling didn’t help.

It did smell delicious, though--

“Who would like to try one first?” Draxum asked. “Carol? As host—”

“Oh,” Carol said cheerfully. “As host, I’ll… find you some plates.” And she was gone with a speediness that April envied. She wondered if she could somehow vanish through the same doorway without being noticed.

“I’ll pass,” Casey said, raising a hand, and he looked sincerely apologetic. “I’m still meant to stick to a simple diet, and I think your brownies are too… rich?”

Nice save. April felt a little bad for Draxum as he looked around with confusion and frowned. “I promise you they taste just fine.”

“Did you follow my recipe?” Mikey asked weakly.

“I improved on your recipe—”

“I’ll go first,” Raph said, face dark and slamming a fist into his open palm. “I’ve eaten weirder.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Donnie was on his phone. “I am not eating anything that looks like a crime scene. Tampering with evidence is a no-no.”

Mikey peered at him. “That’s not what you said at the college labs—”

“You’re all babies.” Raph rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, wincing slightly as the holes at his elbows grew a little bigger. “I bet it’ll taste great and you should all give Barry the benefit of the doubt.”

“Thank you,” Draxum said with a sniff. “I tasted them myself and I am in perfectly good health. I don’t know why all of you are such cowards when it comes to yokai cooking.”

“Raph ain’t no coward.” Yet despite this, he hovered over the tray for a long time, fingers wiggling as if he wasn’t sure what to grab, and April watched the drop of sweat roll down his cheek. Everyone watched him in silence. Except for Donnie, who was humming. April thought it might be a dirge of some kind.

Another green hand reached out and stabbed a finger down into the tray, twirling a pile of warm goop around it, and they jumped. Leo stuck it into his mouth, eyes still half closed.

“Uh—”

“Sensei—”

“Nardo, don’t swallow that—”

“Oh, sweet pineapple on pizza,” Leo breathed, eyes flying open. “This is amazing. Who made this?”

There was dead silence. And then everyone pointed to Draxum. Leo blinked at him, wrinkled his snout, and snuggled back into his pile of comforters. “Oh, that’s right. Well, whatever, can’t win ‘em all. Can I have a plate?”

“Wait,” Donnie said, disbelieving. “You’re serious? You’re not just trying to trick us all into food poisoning?”

“You don’t wanna eat any, Dontron, it’s more for me.”

“Well, not that I doubt you...” Donnie squinted at the plate. “But brownies are meant to have a certain internal consistency. If you can twirl it around your finger I feel they should be classified as something more liquid—”

“Save me from picky eaters,” Draxum said, rolling his eyes. “If you wait a little longer I’m sure they’ll set.”

“They’re meant to set before you serve them, Barry—”

Mikey crossed his arms. “Hey, he tried! And therefore nobody should criticise him!”

“Oh, I think we can find plenty to criticise,” Splinter said, dabbing chocolate goop away from his mouth, and April gave a start and wondered when he’d managed that theft. “But I suppose in this case the brownies are exempt. I hate to say it, but they are delicious. In a strangely muddy kind of way.”

“Oh, nobody died?” Carol had reappeared, holding a stack of small plates. “I brought spoons as well, given their… unique texture. We can call it pudding instead of brownies, right?”

“But I made brownies,” Draxum said sulkily.

“Special recipe yokai brownies,” she said with a dry smile. “Clearly we poor humans don’t recognise quality when we see it.”

“Well, seeing as you brought it up—”

April stomped on his foot. Hard. Which probably hurt her more than it hurt him, given he had hooves and he merely gave her a blank look, but it did shut him up.

“Everyone stop arguing about dessert and eat it already,” Leo said, yawning. “Mrs O, dinner was delicious. I don’t know if I said that before, so…”

That prompted a general round of agreement, and she smiled at them, handing out the plates. “You’re very welcome. Maybe when you’re feeling better, we can do this again, huh?”

Splinter perked up. “You mean like a traditional Sunday dinner?”

“Not every Sunday,” August said, finally entering with a tray of glasses. “I’m not sure our poor apartment can take it. I heard something about gravy?”

“There is no gravy.”

“Oh, glad to hear it. Drinks, anyone?”

A chorus of hands shot up.

“I think there’s enough room for all of us,” Carol said, pointedly flopping down on the ground by April’s chair. “You guys haven’t picked a movie out yet. Anything in particular?”

“Do you have any Jupiter Jim?” Leo said, peering over his comforter.

“Who cares about Jupiter Jerkface.” Splinter huffed. “I happen to know they have the entire collection of Lou Jitsu’s hidden 80s gems—”

“We are not watching Lou Jitsu movies.” Draxum paused between serving up his pudding-slash-brownies onto plates to give him a disdainful look. “We already have to look at you enough today.”

“You only just arrived with faulty brownies, you don’t get a say—”

“My delicious brownies. Even the annoying one thinks so.”

“Don’t drag me into this, I’m horribly injured.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Anyway,” Mikey said determinedly, stuffing Leo’s mouth full of chocolate before he could retort, “That’s one vote for Jupiter Jer—Jim and like minus five for Lou Jitsu—”

“How dare you!” Splinter gasped. “The lack of respect!”

“Lou Jitsu’s ‘hidden 80s gems’ are uncut and not for children,” Carol said firmly. “Don’t scar them.”

“What do you mean—” Donnie paused, and then went a fascinating shade of grey as April hid her face. “Oh. Never mind.”

“I haven’t seen much of the Jupiter Jim franchise, actually,” August said thoughtfully. “Are they any good?”

“Actually,” Casey said, raising a hand with a hesitant smile, “I haven’t seen any. For, uh… obvious reasons..?”

There was silence as everyone stared at the two of them.

Then Leo reached out and smacked Donnie in the arm, making garbled sounds through his mouthful of chocolate sludge, and Donnie sighed. “Translating for my dum-dum brother here, I believe he wants me to say ‘Well, now we have to watch them. From the beginning.’”

“We don’t own any of them, though—”

“That is not a problem, believe me.” Donnie produced his tablet from out of thin air. “April? May I borrow your laptop?”

“You got it, Dee.” She wriggled out of the chair and scrambled past them to her room, cackling as Splinter stopped grumbling and snatched up a plate, perching on the far arm of Leo’s sofa. By the time she returned, dad had pulled in a chair from the kitchen to sit on and the rest were mostly lounging on the floor with what spare cushions they had, and Donnie was perched in an unlikely sprawl across the back of the sofa, setting up the connections they’d need.

“Okay!” Donnie straightened up as she handed him her laptop. “Given there are more than eighty films in the franchise we will clearly start with just the one, so let’s go for one of the more iconic for new viewers and take bets on how long it takes Nardo to fall asleep again—”

“Hey,” Leo protested sleepily. “Rude. I wanna watch people watching JJ.”

“Again, skill issue. I suppose we can ask April to throw more text books—”

“I know who I’m gonna throw ‘em at if I do.”

“—but books are sacred and should not be treated that way. I give him five minutes.”

“Eight,” Carol said mildly.

“Mom!”

“Oh no, Raph is not losin’ another Leo bet. I give him three minutes, look at him, he’s already yawnin’—”

“You’re all jerks.”

“Shush, Leo, or I’ll rig the bet in my favour. You will not like my methods.”

“Dad, Donnie’s threatening me again.”

“Be quiet and go to sleep! Preferably after four minutes.”

“You’re all gonna lose,” Mikey sing-songed. “Leo loves these movies. I’ll give him a full half hour.”

“Thank you, Miguel, but also you’re still a jerk.”

“I love you too.”

“Shh, shh-- the movie’s starting.”

“Shh.”

“Ssh!”

April’s phone buzzed as her dad got the lights, and she blinked down at it.

Donnie: >> I updated your panic button. For all your potential home invasion needs. If we can’t answer, it’ll summon a drone. No more zombies. Share it with parents?

Oh… right. The update. April smiled, and offered him a thumbs up in the dark as the movie started. She’d have to break the news to her parents that they were adopted after all.

Her chair hadn’t been stolen, which was nice of them. She settled back into it, and Carol glanced up at her with a small smile.

“Okay?” April whispered.

“More than,” Carol whispered back.

And...okay. Good. Great. Something in her settled into pure warmth and she curled her knees up to her chest, glancing at her dad. He smiled and gave her a quick nod. Two for two.

It was gonna be more than okay. From here, it was gonna be amazing.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #nekotsuki #no rest for the weary #(adjacent)#this probably has terrible pacing THEY WOULD NOT SHUT UP #super long post

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