#Donnie's expressions when he looks at his family one last time are so fuckin good they're so clear
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The List.
Based on the Cass Apocalyptic Series.
The first part of this has been rumbling around in my brain ever since that Super Sad Scene a month ago, but yesterday’s update gave me the other side of the coin, so to speak, and finally pulled it all together.
@somerandomdudelmao thanks for the fuel, friend
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Donatello’s days have become a series of checklists, as of late.
No, that’s not exactly true. His days have always been about lists: what he’s done, what he can delegate to someone else, what still needs doing. But these days he’s been doing less and listing more, piling tasks from the first category onto the second as fast as he can manage, hoping he has enough time to empty the queue.
The full catalog is written out in a series of files, reorganized for accessibility to the layperson and meticulously up-to-date as of yesterday. He meant to run through it again this morning, ensure all the relevant instruction manuals were attached to each item and double check his protocols, but he wasn’t… he couldn’t…
He’s going to die tonight.
It irritates him, his own miscalculation of the timing more than the stark presence of his oncoming demise. The latter has been inevitable for quite some time, long enough that he’s gotten used to the idea. But he thought he had another week or two, and he doesn’t like being proven wrong. He wonders if his brothers know.
Probably not. They know it’s bad now, obviously, because they’ve piled him with pillows and blankets and surrounded him on all sides, and Leo has finally gone quiet. But they trust him, they’ve always trusted him, even when they shouldn’t, so if he swears he’ll last a few more days, they’ll believe him. He thinks. He’s pretty sure. If they knew it was tonight, he doubts they would choose to sleep through it. Donnie thinks about waking them up, but only for a moment. He’d like to say it’s a noble act, to leave them in peace a little bit longer, but the truth is he’s just too fucking tired to move.
There’s something settled bone-deep in his chest, a heaviness that sits on him like a stone, a peine forte et dure pressing him down and down, stopping his voice and his breath and his heart. He wonders if this is what dying usually feels like, or if it’s unique to the Kraang. Raph would know.
He cranes his neck to the right, to catch Raph’s face out of the corner of his eye. Raph’s working eye is half-open, staring down at the floor. Donnie could ask him. (He won’t. Let him fall asleep.) The movement of his head is so slight it doesn’t even catch Raph’s attention. He’s too tired for anything more. He’s so goddamn tired.
His lists are out of reach at the moment, with his physical interfaces back in the lab and his ninpo locked behind a wall of oh-god-it-sounds-too-exhausting-to-even-try, but he memorized them all long ago.
Raphael: Maintenance (delegated to Casey, who has it well in hand). Plans (tucked away in a dedicated folder, long term, but someday they’ll have the materials, and Raph will have a proper body again, someday). Honey (yes, he passed that along last week).
Raph has access to the tracking programs, so he can keep an eye on everyone himself, even when Donnie can’t pull up locations or vitals for him anymore. He has his own space in the base once more, somewhere to close a door when he needs to (he insists he doesn’t, but Donnie isn’t a fool). He has more excuses to spend time with Casey, who’s taking over his upkeep. Donnie hopes it fills in some gaps for both of them.
He runs through the list, double checks each item. It’s his last chance to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything important.
He looks down, finds Mikey.
There’s a stockpile of the anti-aging serum in his safe, the formula in his database, plans for the permanent solution clearly labeled. As long as they have his lab, his systems, Mikey will be as young as his years. He’s walked him through the greenhouse, even if most of it is controlled by the computer system. Mikey misses the world being green; it’ll do him good to spend more time around the plants. He has his tea, his candles. He has Draxum, who by now should have received a — mildly — threatening message warning him not to pull any disappearing acts anytime soon. He has their ancestors, just a short call away.
Donnie’s sure Mikey will call on him soon. He doesn’t plan to stray far.
Up a bit. To the left. Leo.
The arm — Leo knows how to take care of it, as does Casey.
The passwords — reset, something even Leo will be able to remember without resorting to blackmail.
The schedule — reshuffled for the next few days, he’ll have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.
The photos — everything they have, even the embarrassing ones. He even managed a couple of prints, and one precious shot from their pre-apocalypse days, something for Leo to tuck into a pouch and carry with him, when they’re not around.
Raph, Mikey, Leo. He doesn’t think he’s missed anything. Donnie lets his head fall back, too exhausted to hold it up any longer.
Is it enough?
His mind stretches further out. He’s unraveling.
What about April? Her prescription is up to date, they just checked a month ago. She has the latest in his combat tech, which has kept her safe in the field this long, so he has no reason to think it will falter now. He’s leaving her a few extra pieces, since he won’t be able to use them anymore. Leo will find the time for a movie night once in a while, he’s certain, even if his taste in Jupiter Jim movies is horrendous. They still have coffee; he’d die before he let that particular supply run out. He will, actually.
Casey. Fuck, Donnie’s gonna miss his birthday. But he did plan for this, his protocols will kick in. The mask is finished, everything is in place. He’s reconfigured his workstations, fit them for a tiny human instead of a seven-foot turtle. Casey has a better head for mechanics than any of his brothers ever did. Kid likes to be useful, so Donnie’s left him as much use as he can. He’s taught him everything Casey can learn and left instructions for more, when he’s a little older and wiser. His family will take care of him, they’ll make sure he gets there.
The base. It has to hold, to give them somewhere safe. The infrastructure is sound, and they have people to manage repair work. Supplies are decent, the most critical items in stock, everything that can be made renewable is. Their allies — Leo handles interpersonal issues and leadership, but Donnie’s checked the list with a pragmatist’s eye, left notes and rankings for priority. Security is the largest concern, but he’s spent nearly half his time with his assistants since his self-diagnosis (he could have spent it with his family), running them through the programs and adjustments, trying to bring them up to somewhere in the realm of his own expertise (a fool’s errand, but still). They’ve been rigorously instructed, they understand that the little things like sleep are secondary concerns. It has to hold.
Is it enough? For them to be okay?
He’s done everything he can. He can’t do any more. So it has to be enough.
Donnie blinks, and for a moment isn’t certain his eyes will open again at the end of it. But they do. At least one more time, they obey him.
Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home. He rolls back through the list. It’s his last chance. He can’t miss anything.
Mikey’s hand tightens unconsciously around his wrist, fingers meeting easily on either side. Donnie feels only the echo of the pressure.
Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home.
Something bright sparks at the edges of his vision before it fades. The last gasps of a dying brain, he supposes. Synapses firing one last time before they’re snuffed out.
Raph.
Mikey.
Leo.
April.
Casey.
Home.
Light.
There’s light.
It hurts.
He thought dying would stop the pain, but it’s risen to a fever pitch instead. His brother’s arms are gone, but the disease wraps around him in their place, consumes him. It rages like a wildfire, burning through his center until pieces start to flake away like ash.
Oh, this is what it does, what it was built for. The Kraang could have killed him in a lot of different ways. He’d wondered why they chose this one.
He hasn’t planned for it. This is something he didn’t even know to fear.
It’s bright and it hurts but it’s quiet as he crumbles, folds in on himself like a black hole in the utter silence of outer space. It’s quiet enough that the voice that breaks through does so clear as a bell.
His head turns to follow the sound, instinct. He’s lost half his field of vision, but what’s left is enough. He looks, and finds Casey.
Casey looks at him, at him, not the body. Donnie opens his mouth to ask a question — What are you doing here? How? Why? — but something else sloughs out instead. Not blood. He doesn’t have that anymore.
Casey calls his name once more and starts running.
Donnie’s questions fold back into his mind. His mouth clicks shut, he swallows back the putrid rot and pushes himself up. His arms are shattered but they’ll have to hold him. They have to. Because Casey is here and he needs something, which means Donnie missed something, which means he isn’t done.
His spirit disagrees with him, doesn’t see the logic. His arms don’t hold.
Casey reaches to catch him as he falls, and the touch ruptures him instead. He scatters. Into the air and the ground and Casey. For a moment, he’s just pieces, fumbling around and latching onto anything that welcomes them, and Casey does that. They flow into him. They’re him. They’re…
He’s…
Casey, he’s…
Donatello pulls himself back together. Most of himself, anyway. The infection hasn’t followed him but the damage persists. He’s run through with cracks and crevices, shaking bits away into infinity with every movement. But there’s more of him here than not.
Unexpectedly, Donnie is not gone. He’s still dead, but that’s fine, he planned for that one.
Casey has him now. He wraps himself around Donnie in layers, helps hold him together with a kind of sheer will that makes up for any lack of mystic knowledge in spades. Casey asks him to stay, and Donnie takes up the task like Sisyphus sizing up the hill. This time, this time I’ll do it right.
Even better, Casey has taken him to another time, one where all of Donnie’s long-term plans are now completely-fucking-reasonable plans. Casey’s going to fix it, so Donnie can fix everything else. Whatever else needs it. He hasn’t really asked. And he knows he’s missed something, but he doesn’t think too hard about what, not yet.
First thing’s first: he needs a body.
It’s so simple to accomplish that it seems like the universe is mocking him. Just a quick 1-2-3, ticking off the list. It feels almost stupid, like running back through the early levels of a video game after unlocking all the ultimate weapons and burning through enemies and obstacles, laughing, shit, did I used to think this was hard?
In no time at all, his own face has formed in front of him.
In no time at all, he’s gasping.
It’s only been a few hours since he last breathed air, but he’s missed it.
Another thing he’s missed? Functional musculature. Casey slams into him and Donnie is startled to find that it doesn’t knock him over. His arms and legs look like actual limbs again, not fragile little sticks disguising themselves as such. He stands, dragging Casey along without a second thought. The weight barely registers. It’s amazing.
The power trip is heady, but it only lasts a few minutes before reality kicks it in the ass and pulls him back down to earth.
We lost, Casey says.
They’re dead, Casey says.
It wasn’t enough, Casey does not say, but Donnie hears it just as clearly.
All those plans, the preparations, the precautions and protocols, they only borrowed a year or two before they fell apart. He sees the timeline spiral out before him, tighter and tighter until it collapses in on itself, rendered all the more insignificant from his own point of perception. He was alive yesterday. His family is dead today.
Everything he did, it wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t. He was stupid to think otherwise.
(Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Casey’s still here. It was enough for him, at least.)
It cuts at him a little, to have been so wrong. But he’s strong again, now. He can take the wound. More importantly, he has another chance to get it right.
Donnie breathes. His chest expands smoothly, easily. The air doesn’t rattle in his lungs. He’s alive, he’s a genius, he can fix anything.
He pulls up a list.
#rottmnt#cass apocalyptic series#Rise of the TMNT#fic I write#*looks at the word count* haha. anyway. i'm normal.#Donnie's expressions when he looks at his family one last time are so fuckin good they're so clear#I looked at him and I was like 'oh cool I can literally read his mind'#which may or may not be true (you tell me) but holy shit was it effective#(please @god let the formatting of this post hold)
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Big Leo holding Raph and joking around with lil' Leo 🥺💜
RAPHIE!!!! I LOVE MY BIG MAN SM!!!!!! i love him i love him i love him i love him i love himmmmmmm
(v excerpts taken from ch7 v)
Before he responds Leonardo walks into the room. Under his arm is Raph, hanging there limply with a shocked expression.
Leo reels at the sight a little bit. It looks like Raph is too as he jolts up. “Wait, you can actually carry me?”
“I've been waiting for the perfect moment to!” The older turtle chuckles. “And I can do more than carry you, big brother.”
He lets Raph down to the floor and crouches down forward for a piggy back ride. Raph gasps loudly and climbs on his back, locking his ankles together. Leonardo stands up with no struggle and Raph starts to pat excitedly on the older turtle’s shoulders.
His older brother was wiggling, and yes, it’s fucking adorable!
“Leo, Donnie, look!!”
“We see that, bud.”
raph is literally so excited to be picked up, the last time he was picked up was from when april tried and he was like 11. yeah sure hes 17 now but that does NOT make him immune to having an indescribable amount of joy for being carried around like a ragdoll
he kicky his feeties
on the other hand, fleo wanted to return and thank raph in his own way. for protecting him, for taking care of him donnie, and mikey. and also as kind of an apology.
"let me carry the burden you do" is what hes trying to say here. and even to present raph, hes still taking care of fleo. raph cares about his brother so much it doesnt matter if fleo is taller than him now, that hes older with decades on him, that he survived a war.
fleo is his little brother and nothing is going to change that.
onto the leos !!
He sees in his periphery that Leonardo smiles wider. “Awe, you like me.”
“Don’t push it.” Leo rolls his eyes. “It’d be shitty to demote you just because you're not from this timeline. If we did that, we’d have to do it to Case– Junior too. It wouldn’t have been fair.”
“Whatever you say.”
Leo snorts. “That being said, can you stop leering over in the shadows? It's actually terrifying.”
“I can only do so many things in the lair before I’m bored again.”
“And that means giving me a heart attack every time I go into a room? Put away your scary ass stare man, I swear your eyes turn red.”
“I didn’t know you were so faint of heart.”
“I should have kept you sedated.” Leo says, knowing he never once put him under sedation.
my dynamic of leos is very hard for me to describe personally. its not hostile, its just complicated, and even then "complicated" has too negative of a connotation.
leo is a person who latches onto family with his entire heart. he accepted karai as gramgram near immediately and we all know how fucked up about her death was on him and to the rest of the boys.
its different when its a version of yourself.
for me i didnt want immediate hostility(look away from the scalpel incident for one sec), because i saw some fics that go too hard into the "leo hates himself" angle and while not unsounded, it can be played straight and have a good payoff, it was NOT the tone i wanted in wmas. it wouldnt match the kind of complication im trying to give across here
pov leo, hes seeing himself as the pinnacle leader, from how casey described him, hes the Hero, this is the ideal of what he should be striving for.
but the person hes seeing in front of him is just a guy. leo saw him injured, resting on bed in the medbay, he saw him start to cry in raph's arms, he sees a father, he sees a confused and lost man in front of him.
in a way its pity. in a way he pities himself. fleo is tired and leo can clearly see that, cause hell, hes fuckin tired too.
“I should have kept you sedated.” Leo says, knowing he never once put him under sedation.
“That’s called elderly abuse.”
“And you’re how old?”
“Do I really- okay I see that face, alright.” Leonardo moves his hand to cover Leo’s face and shoves him back. “You got me. Whatever, you absolute child.”
Leo cackles.
and fleo's pov on the matter is, well, i kinda already typed it out all the way in chapter 5
The world of this timeline said that Leo will be able to make up for his mistake with the key.
Not him, the world said.
he looks at leo and feels so much pride, but hes scared that leo thinks less of him. leo managed to save the world and he didnt. and now hes here fucking up a perfectly good happy ending that didnt need to include him.
and on a little more selfish level, "why wasnt i good enough" fleo is thinking.
he doesnt think leo as the superior version of the two of them, but the fact still stands. one of them won. the other didnt. and he sometimes wishes he won too. its complicated.
they dont hate each other, not even a little bit. theyre too good of people to hate each other
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In the Land of Gods and Monsters: Part Two
A/N: So I’ve been doing my research, and for the last few days I’ve been doing nothing but binging on mob material. From Donnie Brasco to Mob Wives to a shit ton of documentaries. I really want this story to somehow…embody? That feel. That glamorous, dangerous feel. I’m aiming for you to feel like you’re listening to a Lana Del Rey song when you read this. Which is why at the beginning of every chapter I’m going to be posting a song lyric of hers- set the mood, ya feel?
Word Count: 6k+ you guys know I’m a sucker for these long ass chapters.
Warnings: As with all of my stories there’s a permanent warning of cursing. I have a mouth like a sailor and express myself through the word fuck. Drug Use, Sexual Tension and Pining are all you’ve gotta’ worry about for this chapter. Pretty SFW, no juicy stuff…YET.
Summary: You knew what you were getting yourself into when you met Bucky Barnes. He was a known wise guy. A feared mobster. Everyone in the neighborhood knew his name. Funny, in retrospect, you think that might have been why you couldn’t help but be drawn in like a moth to a flame. This first and foremost, is a love story. Blood stained and littered with bullet holes, but the story of how you fell in love with the man none the less. Mobster!BuckyxPlus Size Reader
Swinging in the back yard, pull up in your fast car, whistling my name. Open up a beer, and you say get over here and play a video game- Lana Del Rey
-Past-
It’s that pretty time of year in New York, your favorite time. The small window where the last tendrils of spring spillover across the beginnings of summer, where the heat hasn’t completely taken over but the sunshine warmed up the city from the inside out. It was also, the most wonderful time of the fucking year, in your humble opinion, because you were nearly out of school for summer break. Funny, in your early twenties and still counting own the days til’ the last day of school. College really was a ball buster.
Only a few more months, you repeated it to yourself like a prayer- like some kind of moral boost. You were set to graduate in December with your Bachelor’s.
Wanda had made it a habit lately, due to the nice weather, to come and pick you up from school. She’d have a pre-rolled waiting, and the two of you would stop and get something to eat on your way back home.
Today it was bagels, you munch happily, and highly on the last of the cream cheese, salmon and tomato bagel as the two of you walk down the city street. Wanda’s beside you, walking tall as always- and it’s not even the fact that she literally is tall. Runway model tall- accentuated with the heels she has on her feet- but its just the way that she holds herself. Even in her t-shirt and leather leggings; you’d be able to tell from a mile a way that this girl was someone, just by the confident jut of her chin.
The two of you babble about little things- not innocent things though.
About the fact that Pietro had come home with a nasty shiner the night before.
“He’s going to get himself killed” She hisses, distress and annoyance lacing her tone “I don’t know why he cant just get his pussy outside the families. Idiot has some kind'a death wish”
Wanda was ranting about how Pietro had been dipping(quite literally) into the mob pool of women lately. According to her that was the stupidest thing he could do- daughters, sisters, wives; that was an easy way to get yourself killed. Mess with the wrong mans woman, phew, you better watch out. Pietro never did watch out for shit, though. You thought it was almost…fascinating, watching the way the man navigated the world. Not looking at his surroundings as he buzzed through them.
Obviously, you spent a shit ton of time at Wanda’s house. Why wouldn’t you? The you opted to hang out at her mansion of a home instead of your apartment most of the time- even though Wanda was more then willing to go help your Grandma Viv in the Bodega she owned below it. You’d much rather sunbathe on one of her many balconies instead.
After being granted access through the iron wrought gates, and walking up the drive way that you teased was a fucking city block; you notice the unfamiliar cars that are parked in front of her house. Luxurious sports cars- not something the milkman drove. She must notice your staring, because she answers you before you can ask-
“My dad’s got some company over”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah” She waggles her eyebrows then in a way that makes you half frown, half smile “Tony’s here, and guess who’s with him”-
Your stomach does a little flip flop at the possibility- at the probability because that gleaming look in Wanda’s eye told you everything. You’d relayed to her the little time you’d spent with Bucky Barnes at the Social Club a couple weeks ago and she’d just laughed and told you to watch your shit. That many a woman had fallen victim that pretty eyed spell he was tryin’ to lure you under . You’d scoffed and rolled your eyes, indignantly. You weren’t falling for shit.
“Uh-huh, Y/N” Wanda had sing songed “You tell yourself that, babe- but he asked Pietro about you at a sit down the other day. ”
-“Who?” You play innocent, dumb.
“Bucky” She whispers like a schoolgirl, bumping your shoulder with hers and you shove her away playfully, laughing at her antics.
“Oh, my god, you’re such a fuckin’ child”
You loved Wanda like this, though. When she opened up, her playful child like side that she concealed with dark clothes and scowls was your absolute favorite. So as you’re walking up the steps to her frond door, her arm is slung across your shoulders and you’re giggling into her cheek, elbowing her ribs softly.
“Hello girls- you look like you’re having fun. Care to share what’s got you both so- giggly? Not that I don’t enjoy it- you know I dig the whole Lolita thing”
Tony Stark, you’re learning, even though you’ve only met him once- is dramatic. From the insanely expensive tailored maroon suit that he wears, to his sharp goatee, he was like some sort of Gatsby. Some sort of established, flamboyant character that had walked off of the pages of a book.
“I’m sure you do. Innocent little girls your thing, Tony?” Wanda shoots at him, grinning and you purse your lips to hide a smile.
She’d explained to you that she liked flirting with Tony because it rattled her dad’s cage- nothing had ever happened, but she wouldn’t really mind if it did.
You’d told her in return that she had a nasty case of ‘daddy issues-itus’ and needed to make sure that thousand dollar an hour shrink of hers helped sort it out.
“C'mon, friends make secrets, secrets don’t make friends”
“Why don’t you stop harassing them- God, I leave you alone for five minutes”
Just then, a red headed woman that you’d never seen before, because fuck, you would have definitely remembered her, turns the corner into the foyer. She was gorgeous, in her body tight pencil skirt and heels. She held her chin high- kind of the same way Wanda did and you just knew that she was somebody, important. The Givenchy on her arm only adding to that notion.
Bucky, as Wanda had promised, is there too. Next to the red-head, and your eyes meet for just a moment. You flash him a quick, small smile before adverting your stare. You can feel he hasn’t done the same- feel his eyes on your face.
Wanda and the woman share a small smile and nod.
“Y/N, this is Natasha Romanoff. Natasha- Y/N” she introduces the two of you and you shake the woman’s hand pleasantly. You don’t mean to, but you cant help but just…look at her.
Was it like some kind of unspoken rule that you had to be gorgeous to be apart of this world(underworld?)
“And Bucky-”
“We’ve already met” Bucky grins at you, interrupting your friend and you try to keep your face as neutral as you can “Good to see you again, Y/N”
“You too” You feel…very underdressed around these people. You had on a fairly cute outfit, but it paled in comparison to Bucky’s crisp black blazer. The dress shirt he wore underneath was open, showing the top of his chest and the small peppering of dark hair at the start there.
“I heard I missed a hell of a get together” Natasha grins, knowingly, at the two of you. In a way that’s almost scary.
“You didn’t really, nothing special” Tony, obliviously rolls his eyes “Happy took twelve tequila shots and didn’t black out, that was probably the most interesting part of the night”
Erik walks in then, looking like Hugh Hefner himself in a robe and loafers, Raven trailing behind him, and asks why everyone’s clogging’ up his doorway.
“Girls- I didn’t know you were home. I made lunch if you-” Raven rambles as she steps forward.
“We already ate” Wanda doesn’t snap it really, no. Snapping requires some kind of, emotion? And she’s nothing but cold to that woman.
“Sorry, old man” Tony teases good naturedly as he puts a hand on Erik’s shoulder and shakes his hand once more “We we’re just leaving when we ran into your daughter. Prettier every day, this one gets”
Ballsy, you note again. -“just like her mother”
“I know, and you know I’d cut the hands off of anyone that touched her”
Ha, ha, ha. Everyone laughs, but you know it’s not a joke. And so does Tony.
They all pay their respects then, Tony and his crew going to exit out of the door and you following Wanda and her father towards the kitchen-
Your pulled to a stand still by a long fingered grip on your forearm. One that startles the shit out of you, and makes gooseflesh break out where his skin touches yours as you lift your head and meet his eyes.
“I wasn’t lyin’ when I said it was good to see you again” Bucky says lowly, languidly.
His voice just a sinful as you remembered. Fattening and silk smooth.
“That so?” You quip, fuck, you even don’t know how. Your heart is jumping, leaping, and he still hasn’t let go of his light grip on your arm. Your eyes flash, scanning behind you, almost scared to get caught by Wanda or her father. That they might come back round the corner. Being alone with him feels so much more intimate then it really is.
“It is…we shouldn’t wait such a long time before seeing each other again”
“Bucky” You laugh “It’s been two weeks”
“Yeah” He grins down at you “Like I said, long time. Too long, if you ask me”
Fuck…pretty eyed spell? Yeah, that shit was real. Your head feels airy, maybe it’s because how hard your heart is pounding. Oh god, you were going to have a heart attack or something.
“So what exactly is it that you’re asking me?” you manage.
“Let me get your number?” Your eyebrow quirks at that, at the almost pleading edge in his voice “Let me take you out? I’ve been thinkin’ bout'cha, doll”
His tone drops then, drips with electricity “You been thinking about me too?” he all but whispers and you bite your bottom lip in some kind of attempt to keep yourself in your body. Fuck man, you don’t know if anyone had eve had this kind of affect on you.
“And if I said no?” You challenge, weakly, but still. He chuckles low, his eyes blazing. Like you’d ignited something in them- a part of you, the one that screamed for your self preservation almost wished you could put it out.
“I’d know you were lyin…”
“You’re very sure of yourself, Mr. Barnes”
“-Well maybe, but mostly I’m sure of the fact that I would show you the best time of your life. Take you somewhere you deserved”
“You don’t know me. How do you know what I deserve?” You point out, trying(but not really) to pull yourself away from him. Something about him ant the way he was with you made you want to…make him chase you. Made your hummingbird heart want to play.
Your eyes say it all.
“I want to know you” It’s such a simple statement, but it’s so…honest. The truth of it rings around the hot bubble the two of you have seemed to create for yourselves.
Who were you, to say no to something like that?
“Do you have a pen?”
“Nah-but I’ve got a great memory” He grins and you cant help but shake your head. This man…
He leaves the house with your number and your peace of mind.
It takes him four days to call you, 96 grueling hours where you’ve completely convinced yourself that he’s not going to.
How stupid could you fuckin’ be, you internally berate yourself. Thinking that a man like him- ugh. It had been a bad idea anyway. Him and his gunmetal eyes and his jawline that almost made you salivate-
“Y/N!”
You’re broken out of your mind by your Grandma who gives you a pointed look “Those cereal boxes aint going to shelf them selves”
You sigh and give her a “Sorry Grams” before getting back to the task at hand. Your Grandma Viv might have been elderly, but she was honestly the spunkiest, most alive person you’d ever met. She kept her long, silver hair pinned up and her cat framed glasses covered her defined eyes. She was always dressed in shawls and capes, in fabric that danced behind her. But even with her bohemian vibe, everyone knew she wasn’t one to be fucked with. It’s why she had had this place, this bodega(corner store) for the past twenty years. An organic bodega? In the hood? Everyone had laughed, but she’d proved them all wrong, and it had become a sort of staple of the neighborhood.
Needed fresh produce? Go to Vivs. Healthy ingredients or fresh flowers or quinoa(because that was all the rage right now) that wouldn’t break your bank like Whole Foods would? Go to Vivs.
She loved her shop, was so proud of it- but she also wasn’t getting any younger. And when her partner died a few years back(god rest her soul), you’d moved back in with her to help take care of things. You told her you were only there to help with the store, but really, you wanted to keep an eye on her too. You knew all those years of organic eating and tea cleanses and marijuana had done her good, but still. You worried about her- a fact that would always make her laugh.
“You’re the kid, little bird. I’m supposed'ta be worrying about you!”
You’re signing a clipboard, chatting with a delivery boy an hour or so later when your ringtone chirps from your back pocket.
“Yeah, you can just go line them up against the back wall, thanks” You finish up quick with him before pulling it out and looking at the number. It’s unknown, foreign and you try not to get excited as you answer it. It could be anybody- a bill collecter maybe? Your cousin who could seem to keep that same number for more then a week for the life of him-
“Hello?”
“Hi, doll”
None of the above. The voice belonged to Bucky- who you’d convinced yourself wasn’t going to call.
“-It’s Bucky” He verifies after it takes a beat for you to reply.
“I figured” You don’t mean to be bitchy, but you’d really thought he wasn’t going to contact you and that shit had stung.
“What are you doing, pretty girl?”
“Working” you deadpan back, trying to smother the butterflies that came with his “pretty girl”
“Yeah?”
“Yup”
“What are you doing tomorrow night? And don’t say working because I simply wont accept that”
You cant help but let out a sound that’s halfway between a snort and a laugh. His forwardness could easily be mistaken for assholy-ness, if not for that voice of his.
“As of the moment, I’m not sure yet. Why?”
“I want to take you out”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I do. Somewhere real nice”
You sigh dramatically “I don’t knowwww”
“What don’t you know? The only thing you’ve gotta figure out is what you’re wearing tomorrow night, let me take care of everything else” His voice is a pull, an invisible rope that he’d lassoed you with- a noose, your dark humor thought.
“I don’t know…” You repeated again, even though you do. You really fucking do. You’re totally aware, that you were one hundred percent going to agree…but you had to make him beg, just a little bit. Didn’t you?
He shouldn’t have made you wait.
He groans, playfully into the receiver “C'mon, doll face. Don’t give me a hard time. I want to see ya’, don’t you want to see me?”
You hold the phone between your shoulder and ear as you arrange the banana’s, gnawing on your bottom lip. You did want to see him. So badly- these four days waiting had been shit-
“I might want to see you, a little bit” You admit ruefully and he chuckles.
“Good. Now, what time would work best for ya’?”
And just like that, you were agreeing to a date with Bucky Barnes. When you’d hung up with him, and immediately dialed Wanda, she’d snorted and told you that she “Fuckin’ told you so” and gave you a few more warnings before asking you what you were planning on wearing.
That is how a natural disaster struck your bedroom room. No, but really, it looked like a tornado had passed through the room the next night as you tore your closet apart, eagerly searching for something to wear. You liked to think your were a fashionable person; your size had never smothered your love for clothes or your personal style, but god almighty, it was like you had nothing to wear.
You’d already changed multiple times and stood in the middle of the chaos in just your lacy bra and high wasted shapewear, pinching your nose, reminding yourself to breathe.
All Bucky had said was dress up nice. He hadn’t told you where he’d been taking you, nothin’. Did he mean like floor length gown nice or jeans and a pair of stilettos nice? Fuck.
After all your strife, you end up in a fawn colored leather skirt and top duo- figuring that if he meant wear a damn ball gown he would have said so. Your hair falls over your shoulders, styled and smelling good and you’d taken care with your make up. All in all, you thought you looked pretty damn good as you dab at your lipstick in the mirror.
You get the itch- one that has to be scratched. A need of a high to calm your nerves, and you decide for a couple puffs on an old joint instead of the coke that you kept in your jewelry box.
You, as per usual, were late and you scrambled to throw on a pair of pumps, a spritz of perfume and grab your handbag as you whirl winded out of the room.
“You have fun tonight, little bird” Your Grandma Viv calls after you and you grin, trying not to feel guilty and kiss her on the head as you pass her in the living room on your way out. She thought you were going out to a nice dinner with some friends from school to celebrate the end of the semester…she’d have a coronary if she knew what you were really doing.
Grandma Viv was, at heart, still a true flower child. Sometimes you teased that she was still on that acid trip from Woodstock. She hated violence, and she despised gangs and the mafia. “They take little boys and promise them a family, and make them into killers”
She loved Wanda, only because she didn’t know her last name. “That girls gotta’ deadly pair of stems on her- what’s her obsession with coverin’ up her knees?”
If she even saw Bucky, and his car and his suits, oh she’d lose it. That’s why you’d asked him to park down the block. Yes, you were a grown woman who shouldn’t have to sneak around like some high schooler- but your Grandma’s health mattered to you, and you weren’t about to burry her because she’d gotten a load of you with a made man and dropped dead.
It’s a pretty night, mild and clear and your heels make clacking sounds on the pavement as you walk, your eyes eagerly searching the street for him-
You don’t have to look far. About halfway down the asphalt, you see him. He’s leaning against his parked car, a burning cigarette hanging lazily between his loose fingers. He looks like a sin, with his dark suit jacket and his patterned dress shirt that once again he wears with the top button popped, revealing a gold chain that you suspected costed the entirety of your monthly rent. He perks up when he sees you coming, the side of his mouth pulling into a grin and his eyes sparkling in the light from the street lamp.
“Look at'chu” He grins when you’re in ear shot and even though you try to bite on your smile it beams. “You look real beautiful tonight, doll”
“You don’t look so bad yourself”
He chuckles and flicks out his cig, stepping on it before ushering you over and into the car. He does it all gentleman like, opening the door, his hand on your lower back as he makes sure your comfortable before shutting it. His car is nice, of course. It somehow manages to look vintage and updated all at once, you run a finger along the fine leather seats as he drives.
He takes you a ways from Brooklyn, all the way to Manhattan, claiming that the lobster at the place you we’re going to was worth the commute through traffic.
“You do like seafood, don’t you? Fuck, I should'a probably asked-” He frets a little bit and it’s almost odd seeing the brick house of a man looking so unsure.
“I love seafood, don’t worry” You try to keep the laugh out of your voice “I mean I’m allergic to shellfish, but-”
“Oh shit”
You bust out laughing hard at the sullen look on his face, at the way he’d paled “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”
He makes a squawk at that, giving you a jesting glare “You’re not very nice, ya’ know”
“I never said I was” You manage between cracking up, wiping at the corner of your eyes to assure that your makeup didn’t smear due to the tears that had collected there.
“I guess I just assumed”
“Well you know what they say about assuming” You shrug one shoulder, but give him a sweet smile. That makes him bark out his own laugh, shaking his head at your antics.
“So are there any allergies I should know about? Real ones? Just for future reference” He makes conversation and you cant help that flip flop, flutter feeling in your chest. Future reference. You hadn’t even made it to your first date yet, and here he was. Making plans for the future. Were you freaked out or flattered? Both.
“Well unless your going to try and slip me a Trazadone, I think were good”
He chuckles again “No sleeping pills, got it”
The restaurant he takes you to is gorgeous, high scale. A few blocks away from Central Park. A Valet meets you at the curb and takes Bucky’s car as you walk to the entrance of the establishment.
It’s busy, obviously very in demand and your eyes don’t know where to focus. When someone almost bumps into you and you have do this shuffling act on your heels, Bucky’s hand goes to your waist, pulling you in closer to him.
“Reservation’s under?” The hostess asks, but you can barley hear her.
Truth be told, you’d never had a man treat you like this. The protective way that he held you was new and exhilarating.
“Barnes” He drawls and with that, the two of you are seated pretty damn fast. His large, leather glove covered palm doesn’t leave your curvy waist until you’re sat at the table. He takes his seat only after you’ve taken yours.
You cant stop looking around- it’s absolutely beautiful in here. From the chandeliers to the mod decoration. You’d been to some high end restaurants with Wanda and her family in the past few months but none had been as aesthetically pleasing as this. The waiter drops off your menu’s and you don’t recall having ever been attended to so fast before.
“You like it?” Bucky notices your eyes and you snap them back to his, a little sheepish at being caught ogling.
“I do, it’s gorgeous” You nod, picking up the menu. “You bring all the other girls here?” You tease, your eyes on the print and not on him.
“What other girls?” He asks, teasingly outraged and you scoff and roll your eyes.
“C'mon Bucky” You urge, just meeting his eyes about the edge of the menu. His are blazing, yours are kitten like “You think I’m not aware of your…reputation?”
He chews on that. Little do you know, no other woman had ever called him out like that, so boldly. On the first date none the less.
“We’ve all got a past, doll. I’m sure you’ve left a string of broken hearts behind ya’” He searches for the words, and jeeze, he’s so good with them.
You shake your head with a tut of your tongue “Not really”
“Now I call bullshit on that” Bucky leans forward and you have the urge to hide behind the menu, so you do. “You’re too beautiful. I’m sure there’s a dozen guys who hate even hearin’ your name cause you fucked em’ up so bad”
Had you ever been complimented so much? Most people assume bigger girls never get any attention, but that was never the case for you. You’d had boyfriends, flings. You’d always been “pretty enough”.
But Bucky looks at you like you’re the sun from the very start.
“Flatterer” You accuse, and he just bets if you’d lower that menu he’d see that pretty blush creeping up your neck…
“It’s all the truth, baby”
The waiter decides to take pity on your soul then and comes back to the table. Bucky orders a bottle of wine that just sounds like it costs fuck load.
“I hope you like red”
“I do” You smile.
He orders the lobster with herb butter and filet migon plate and you a seafood sampler plate. It’s all ridiculously decadent, the lobster just as buttery and rich as he’d promised and the two of you eat and drink until you feel like you’re going to bust a seam in your spanx. It’s fun, it’s easy.
Bucky seems to like your teasing, he isn’t rubbed the wrong way by it like some people were.
You talk, try to get to know him, even though every question that comes out of his mouth is centered on you. You tell him about school, that you’re majoring in “political economics” and he grins and asks what that’s like. He asks about your “job” and you relay stories about the bodega, which then turn into stories about your childhood, which then turn into stories about everything.
The two of you spend hours, at the table. Talking and digesting.
“You and Wanda are close” He notes and you nod.
“Yeah, I love her” You say simply because it’s the truth “She’s a good friend”
“And her brother? You close with him too?” He has that same look in his eyes that he’d had back at the bar the night that Pietro had interrupted you. It makes you shiver a little.
“You could say that. I mean there’s no Wanda without Pietro, is there?” You know you hadn’t answered his unasked question, but that was your intention. For one, even if you had, had a thing with Pietro(which fuck, you never would. You liked living your life STD free, thank you very much) it was none of his business. And two, maybe you liked that way he was looking at you.
Maybe you liked the idea of him getting jealous, no matter how dangerous you knew that might be.
“That’s right, it’s been that way since they we’re kids. Always the two of 'em” Bucky tells you a story of how they’d always been at their fathers feet during “meetings” as he called them.
“How old are you, exactly? I never asked?”
He chuckles “You scared I’m a geezer?”
“No, I’ve never had an issue with older men” Where the heeeeelllll did that come from. He brought out some hyper flirty side of you and you were going to need to watch your mouth(that already tended to get you into trouble) with him.
His eyes flash from yours to your lips and back up, his pupils flickering before he answers “I’m thirty two”
You cluck your tongue and scoff “And you’re over here acting like you’re soooo much older then us. You’re not even ten years older then me, Bucky”
“Nine years is nine years. You’re like a baby to me, huh?” He gives you a cat that ate the canary grin “Baby girl”
You could scream. Baby girl, coming out of his mouth it sounded like the dirtiest praise you’d ever received. You just shrugged and adverted your eyes, and hell, Bucky loved that little blush he watched blossom from the collar of your top up.
You decide not to get a dessert, claiming that you didn’t need chocolate and shrimp doing the tango in your stomach and he agrees and instead asks for the check. When it comes, you cant help but be curious at the amount. You could bet it was a pretty penny.
“Should I even ask?”
“No, doll. It’s none of your concern” He gives you an easy grin as he signs his signature and gives the man his card.
“That expensive?”
He shrugs “Completely worth it”, he’s happy to have earned that blush again.
After exiting the restaurant, back into the gorgeous weather, it hits you- just how much you don’t want this night to end. Dinner was over, and you honestly had no intention of letting him take you back to his place, at least not tonight…but you don’t want to go home. Not just yet.
“Let’s take a walk?” You suggest, even though your feet would probably hate you in the morning “Were right next to Central Park”
You think it’s the puppy dog eyes you make up at him that ensures his “I’m game”
It’s nice, just walking beside him. Having him so close you could feel the sparks of his body next to yours, and yet the two of you didn’t touch. You refrained from grabbing his hand so many times. He slows him self, his long legged strides to match your shorter legged, heeled ones.
“You grow up in the neighborhood?” You decide its time for him to answer a few of your questions, the ones that had been gnawing at you.
“I did. Brooklyn born and raised”
“Never wanted to do any traveling?”
“I spent enough time away when I was younger. I ,uh, I enlisted when I was eighteen” He reveals and you look over.
“Yeah? The army?”
“Yeah. I was stationed in Iraq for a few years til’ there was an accident” He holds up his gloved hand, but doesn’t elaborate and you’re not about to push. “I’m glad to be home, I love this city, ya’ know? Once you come to New York you never want to leave. It’s magic”
You giggle at the sincerity in his voice “I wouldn’t call it magic, but it’s got it’s charms”
“Everyone I love is in this city”
“Are you close with your parents?”
“Not as much…any more” Again, he only half answers “You? I know you live with your Grandma but what about your ma’ and dad?”
“Um, kind of? My mom lives in Arizona, but my dad’s just- not in the picture”
He nods and doesn’t press you about your answers either. You appreciate it. You don’t want to kill the vibe with all of this family drama.
He reaches in to his pocket to pull of the box of cancer sticks and pulls one out, lighting it up easily. He offers you one but you shake your head.
“The make me jittery” You explain and he chuckles as he takes a drag, a glint of gold showing from under his sleeve.
“That’s a nice watch you’ve got there, Sir” You point out, impressed “What is that, a Rollex?”
Bucky smiles, softly. With a shrug, as though he’s embarrassed you’d noticed it “Thanks, it’s 'aight”
He dipped himself in gold, and yet seemed to shrug about it when someone noticed? What even was that? He just…sparked your curiosity, in a way no one else really have. You were so curious about this man, you wanted to know him.
'I want to know you’ his words ring in your head.
“It’s more then alright, Mr. Humble”
“Humility is the solid foundation of all virtues” He tells you all matter of factly and it almost stops you in your tracks.
“Did you just quote Confucius to me?”
He looks equally shocked, brow crooked as he stares back “I’m surprised you picked it up”
Right then, you decide he’s not the man you thought he was. Quoting philosophers and being humble about his obvious wealth? Yeah, not what you were expecting at all.
After a half an hour walk your feet are hollering in your pinchy heels and he decides it’s time he get’s you home. The car ride is peaceful, filled with a quiet you’d never personally experienced. When ever people talked about “comfortable quiets” you would laugh at them because there couldn’t be anything comfortable about there not being a flow of conversation…but this was. The radio played softly and the breeze through the open windows whipped your hair lightly, he’d reached over about half way through the drive, his in gloved hand sliding along your thigh until it found yours.
You’d smiled and held it, getting acclimated with his long fingers, with his bony knuckles you could tell had been broken a time or two before and the rough callus’ that contrasted with your own plump, satiny skin.
When he pulls back into the exact parking spot he’d been in when he’d pick you up(which you think is rare, because if you’ve ever been in New York you know it’s some kinda’ voodoo to park in the same place twice) he looks over at you. He’d had to pull his hand away to park the car and yours feel empty…
“What are you thinkin’ about?” His voice is low, like he doesn’t want to break the cristiline bubble you two are in and you smile wistfully as you lean your head back against the rest, never taking you eyes off of his.
I don’t want this to ever end.
I don’t want to go inside.
The moment you drive away, I know I’m going to miss the hell out of you.
Those were just a few of the many thoughts that rushed through your mind.
“I had a really good time tonight” Is what you choose to tell him though.
“So did I- I’m hopin’ you’ll let me take you out again”
“I might be open to negotiation”
He just grins, with a slight shake of his head “You’re somethin’ else, doll, you know that?”
You bite your lips then, because fuck, when he swallows his Addams apple bobs in a way that’s almost hypnotic. The tensing of his pretty jaw is the most beautiful thing.
“Doll?”
“Uh-huh?” your distracted, you can barley reply.
“I really want to fuckin’ kiss you right now”
Your whole body tenses and you try to take a labored breath. When had the two of you leaned in so close to each other? When he says this, all you can do is watch the way his lips move as the form the words. You cant speak, not with all the tension in your body.
“Let me kiss you?” It’s a plea and you just nod as his forehead clunks against yours and his nose nudges your cheek. Your breathing in what he’s exhaling and he tastes so good already.
“Baby, can I kiss you?” he presses on, wanting to hear you affirm him. Not with a nod, but with your voice.
“Please” You all but whimper and then he’s pressing his plump lips to yours and its wet and sweet and your eyes flutter closed as you try to zero in on nothing but this feeling. But the smell of his spicy cologne and the way his hand comes up to cup your jaw, leaving you gripping at his arm for dear life.
Your hearts hummingbirding as you suck on his bottom lip, as his tongue licks into his mouth, as his hand on your jaw goes to grip your hair in an vain attempt to pull your mouths closer together.
What was supposed to be a first kiss becomes a first make out of sorts and when you pull away to suck in a ragged breath, to somehow regain control of yourself , you lean heavily back against the seat. Two sets of ragged panting fill the air of the car and your chest heaves as your lungs work for needed oxygen. You don’t see the way his dark eyes watch your breasts rise and fall, because yours are fixed in front of you, a bit unfocused honestly.
“That was um-” You try to string together words.
“Amazin’?” Bucky answers for you and you let out a little laugh that’s almost hysterical and nod before daring to look back over at him.
“Yeah, something like that”
The tension starts to build the moment your eyes meet again and you know if you don’t get out of that car you’re just going to start right back up again.
“I should go” It’s barley audible, and you really, really don’t want to even say it.
“Let me walk you to your door?” Bucky offers but you decline. Not wanting your grandmother to see him.
“No, that’s okay. It’s literally just right there”
He pouts a bit at that, but sighs “At least let me kiss you one more time?”
You giggle and shake your head “No, that’s not a good idea”
“Why? C'monnnn” He drags out and you want to reach over and squeeze this known mafia man’s cheek. He was just too fucking cute.
“No, Bucky. I have to go and I don’t know if I’ll be able to if we start kissing again” You argue, gathering your bag, ready to exit the car.
“What about one? Just one more?”
How can you say no to those eyes of his? So you lean back over, slowly…but just before your lips re-connect with his you jerk, pressing them to his cheek instead.
“Goodnight Bucky”
You hear his groans over your triumphant laughter as you exit the car, shutting the door behind you. Feeling like you’re walking on air.
His window rolls down quick, so that he can holler to you as you cross the street. “Goodnight, baby girl!”
You think about that magic he’d talked about in the city earlier as you make your way up stairs- you feel that when you’re around him.
INTRO
PART ONE
@buchonians @papi-chulo-bucky @geekyweed @kelly96q @missrobyn81 @iamwarrenspeace @docharleythegeekqueen @beccavesper @buckysforeverprincess @yslbucky @plumfondler @prettybubblesintheair @4theluvofall @huntressxtimelady @curiositywillbethedeathofmee @welcometothelordsden @jacks-on-krack @peacefulwriter88 @thejenniferincident
I’m crying as I write this because I want a Bucky of my own. Ugh. So usually in my stories I like myself a good ol’ slow burn, but not with this one. I want their love to be wild and passionate and all consuming from the start.
Also, I’m writing Y/N as a confident plus size woman because we exist lol we wear skirts and men think were pretty! Gasps, I know. Shocking.
Give me some feedback! What are you guys thinking of this so far? Yes? No? I love reading your comments, like litterally, even the shortest comment slays me. Please gimme- lol I’m like a fairy, I need attention to live.
If you’d like to be tagged for this series let me know in the comments!
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x plus size reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnesxreader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#mafia au#mobster!bucky#mobster!au#mob!au#mob!bucky#wanda maximoff#peitro maximoff#natasha romanoff#tony stark#mobster!steve#mob!steve#marvel au#avengers au#james bucky barnes#all the#Lana Del Rey#vibes#in this one#video games Lana#mafia#mob wives#la cosa nostra
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Day by day.
It’s okay to slow down and just take things day by day, but sometimes Donnie forgets that.
Luckily, Mikey doesn’t.
(have some short b-team hurtcomfort fic, because i don’t write nearly enough comfort or bonding for these two.)
Donnie stares at the messy, somewhat delirious notes in front of him; his own writing getting increasingly incoherent with each page, until the very final one, which reads only BUILD/HIJACK BIGGEST RADIO TOWER, CALL OTHER ME???
He groans softly, and lets his head sink to the disaster of a lab table. Putting his hands on top of his skull, he feels his elbow bump something hard and cool, and his gut jerks as he realizes it’s probably one of his multiple empty mugs about to meet a unmerciful death.
A quiet “whoop!” is heard, but no shattering porcelain.
Donnie raises his head, wondering if he’s finally tired enough he’s started hallucinating.
Mikey is standing beside the table, seemingly having materialized out of thin air like he sometimes does- holding the mug and giving Donnie an exasperated look.
“You know, we have exactly ten mugs in total,” Mikey says, setting the mug on the table. “and I’m pretty sure you’ve got eight of them in here. Which is probably not the best sign for your caffeine intake levels.”
Donnie blinks sluggishly. His brain is awake, sure, but only on the inside. Outside input isn’t going in, and it takes him a full moment to comprehend what his brother has just said to him.
“...I thought I only had five?” He says, glancing around at his work station. There’s a... few more cups than he thought.
Mikey laughs, not unkindly, and drags a stool around the corner of the table to sit down. “I think you only got five brain cells right now, Dee. When’s the last time you slept? Or... ate, or drank something that wasn’t coffee?”
Donnie tries to remember, marginally successful.
“Around.... six?”
“Is that six tonight- which was hours ago- or six yesterday morning?”
Donnie’s head hurts. “...what time is it?”
Mikey gives him a grimace. “Woo, you’re really out of it tonight. What’s got you all tangled up like this?”
Donnie’s eyes drift back down to his infuriatingly useless notes.
“There’s still mutants running around New York,” Donnie says, feeling even tireder talking about it. “and I’ve got...” He thinks about the frozen figure up against the wall, and how badly he’s neglected Timothy the past months. Years. “They all still need a retromutagen, and there’s... not enough to go around anymore. I have to figure out how to make it stretch, what little I’ve managed to get my hands on, but...”
Mikey’s hands enter his vision, gently moving the papers so the newer, messier ones are easier to see.
“Not going to well?” Mikey observes, brushing a thumb over Donnie’s throwaway idea of contacting their space clone selves.
Donnie nods miserably. He’s unsure of the time, and doubly unsure of when he last made any real progress with the problem. He’s been keeping rough track of every new mutant that pops up somewhere in New York, and while the numbers are a mere fraction of the full population of the city, it’s still a lot of mutants. The Shredder drained so many of the caches of mutagen through the city, and since they lost contact with Bishop and the Utrom, Donnie’s been stuck with hoarding what little he’s still in possession of.
It’s not enough. It has to be but it’s not. There’s just too many mutants to reverse and not enough mutagen for effective retromutagen batches. And even with all those nameless people out there in need of his help- incorrect, he could name them all if he wanted to, its just that it’s terrifying to put faces and lives to all those mutants- he’s still got his family to look out for. Mutagen has medical uses for them, it’s brought his brothers back from the brink of death or worse before, and if he gives it all up for people they don’t even know, just before someone suffers another life-threatening injury...
That will be his fault, for not making the scant stock of mutagen he has last long enough to fix everything and everyone.
“I can see you burning through those five brain cells, Donnie, like right this second.”
Donnie sighs, and rubs at his aching temples. Headaches are his true weakness, even if he usually powers through them regardless. “What do you want, Mikey? I’m... very busy.”
“You’re half dead, that’s what you are,” Mikey says, gently elbowing Donnie’s side. When Donnie just grumbles, Mikey throws an arm around his shell and says, “Come on, take a break. Eat a snack. Take a nap. You can’t save the whole world in a night, gotta get a little R&R first.”
Donnie snorts. “We’ve literally saved the world in a night before, sometimes less. Look, you might not get it, but I can’t stop, okay? This isn’t something I can just walk away from and not feel like a...”
“Do not say failure,” Mikey says, very suddenly serious. His arm is tight on Donnie’s shell, and Donnie can feel the intense scrutinizing he’s being given. “We had a bazillion talks about that- no quitter talk!”
“Then why are you telling me to quit?” Donnie asks.
“I’m not! I’m just saying you need to take it easy for a bit, before you bust something important because you didn’t take care of it right.”
“You’re talking like I’m a car.”
“Raph called himself a ‘finely tuned fight engine’ or something one time. Turtle bodies are close enough that they gotta be cleaned and fed and left to pass out somewhere quiet sometimes.”
Donnie stubbornly doesn’t answer. He has work to do, important work, and walking away from it even just to get food feels wrong. He has to do this, he needs to be doing something to fix the world. The retromutagen is something he can make, can use to fix other peoples’ lives. If he’s not working on that, or something else...
He doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Mikey’s arm squeezes him, drawing Donnie sideways for a hug.
“Hey, you know it’s okay to slow down, right?” Mikey says in a soft voice. “Just until you stop lookin’ so cross-eyed.”
“Can’t,” Donnie says belligerently. Mikey doesn’t get it. He can’t get it. “I can’t.”
“...I know you got your way of copin’ with stuff, Dee, but sometimes you have to just take it day by day, alright? Some stuff takes a little extra time, and you have to make sure you don’t burn yourself out before that time is up.”
“And how would you know that?” Donnie says, because far as he’s ever really known, Mikey has hardly a patient bone in his body.
His brother hums.
“Dimension-X, bro.”
Donnie lifts his head, giving a mildly startled look to Mikey, who gives a wane smile in return.
Mikey is still smiling, even as he talks about something that draws a stress-line in that smile. “You guys got there in a few seconds your time, but I was there for like, months or shit. D-X has all sorts of stuff to do pretty much twenty-four seven, but... I didn’t know when you guys were gonna show up. First while rolled by and I had to figure out how to budget my energy, or I would’ve ended up turtlechow for somethin’. So-” He says, and Donnie can visibly see Mikey putting brighter emotions back into his expression. “-if I can figure out how to be patient for an undefined pickup date, then you can be patient until your brain is all recharged. Okay? Come eat leftovers. We had curry and burnt toast, since it was me an’ Leo’s turn to cook tonight.”
Donnie wants to refuse on automatic, because walking away from one of the last relatively normal and straight forward parts of his life is hard. But...
Curry sounds nice, even with burnt toast as a side.
His stomach, Donnie realizes, has been in such a tight knot of hunger for so long, he hadn’t noticed it until Mikey mentioned food.
Donnie finally relents, slumping into the sideways hug that’s actually right out holding him up at this point. “Okay, curry sounds good. Thank you.”
Mikey beams, smug and pleased. “And then you’re taking a shower, and then sleeping. At least seven hours, no less. I think you went twenty-four without bein’ horizontal even once. Again.”
“I have important work.”
“Yeah and your self-pampering is part of that, which has been super neglected, you workaholic. Put some energy into restoring your energies, ‘kay?”
Donnie huffs, smiles, and nods.
“Atta boy!” Mikey crows. He gives Donnie one last squeeze and then stands up from his stool. “And now we go follow through with that stuff, and then we set an alarm for when your government mandated vacation time is up.”
“I wasn’t aware we had a government,” Donnie says bemusedly, standing with twin cracks to his cramping knees. Ow. “Or... vacation hours, for that matter.”
“It’s the dictator government of ‘take better care of yourself, idiot’,” Mikey says imperiously, reaching out and tugging on Donnie’s arm. “I’m the dictator and I’m dictating you go take a fuckin’ shower while I reheat food.”
“I thought Leo was the resident dictator,” Donnie says. “Or Raph, possibly.”
“They like to think they’re the dictators, but Leo’s actually just a tator and Raph’s just a dick. Two halves but not whole! Me though? I’m the whole package.”
“And what does that make me in this hypothetical government equation?”
“The judge or jury or someone who needs to take a shower and eat real food.”
“That’s court, Mikey, not the ruling figures of a country.”
“Blah blah blah- less smart talk more taking care of yourself, go go go.”
“I’m going,” Donnie grouses, but his lips are curling on the ends as his brother drags him from his lab by the hand, and he doesn’t glance back at his temporarily halted work.
A shower, two servings of curry and one of slightly charred toast later, with the addition of bean bags and a G-rated oldie-but-goodie movie turned on, Donnie’s frayed nerves settle down as he does.
Mikey takes up the bean bag beside him as Donnie does, and Donnie has barely enough energy left to shoot a grateful smile at his brother before his eyes slide shut.
As Donnie falls asleep completely, Mikey stealthily takes the t-phone out of his brother’s belt, and adds an extra two hours to the alarm setting. Seven hours isn’t going to cut it for those deep bags under his bro’s eyes, and Mikey knows the small sabotage will be forgiven.
If he’d let Donnie go to his room, his genius brother would have found a little gadget somewhere in there to tinker with instead of actually sleeping. So, movie marathon it is, while Donnie heads into a good, well deserved sleep.
Not a bad arrangement. Mikey doesn’t mind watching movies, or stepping up to give his brother a little extra push towards functionality.
He knows Donnie’s work is important, and that he can’t really do anything to help- but Mikey also knows that Donnie will run himself into the ground if he keeps going at things like this, and knows what it feels like when you can’t stop going full-tilt at a problem until its solved.
Warm food and a good sleep can fix that, though. Or at least give you a fresh perspective whenever you wake up again. Dimension-X taught him that, and he figures that this time around, he can be the one to pass knowledge onto someone.
Mikey slumps a little further into his bean bag, comfy as can be; listening to Donnie start whistling through his little tooth gap as he breathes, and smiling to himself as the movie hits the first major plot point.
#tmnt#tmnt 2012#michelangelo#Donatello#b-team babes#and yeah this is a fair while after season four/splinter's death#they're all just trying to figure out what to do with themselves now that the war is over#i feel this would be especially hard for donnie#since for the past three+ yrs he's been nonstop with a hundred and one problems at any given time#mikey's sort of 'let it happen and let it go' mentality is a good counterpart to that#so they once again#have my favorite characterization balance#My writing
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○○ eyez | five
March 1, 2015
“Alright, so—I just need you to check in on the place every so often. At least twice a week. And don’t be going in my shit,” Omari dragged the last of Beija’s bags out into the hallway, and she huffed slightly as she looked at her phone, checking the time before she slipped it back into her pocket. “And you gotta call me...at least every other day,” She added.
“You sure I won’t be bothering you, ma?” The man asked as he dusted his hands against his jeans. “Where are you going anyway? You still ain’t told me,” He tilted his head as he stared down at the smaller woman.
“Think of it as a long vacation. Don’t worry too much about it,” She gently patted his cheek, and he rolled his eyes playfully as they both took hold of all of her bags and headed down the hallway towards the elevator.
It had been a bit over three months since Beija and Omari had met, and despite her reservations she had found a great friend within him. For the longest time they were spending time out and about New York when the two weren’t occupied with work. She hadn’t allowed him into her home aside from letting him walk her to the front door, but it didn’t stop him from inviting her over to his place. Many nights were spent hanging out, watching movies, and having long conversations that seemed to go late into the evening hours. It was actually kind of bittersweet for Beija to be leaving for the tour—she wouldn’t be seeing Omari for a while. On the other hand, she was ready to get out into the world and get such a rare opportunity.
“You gonna miss me while I’m gone?” Beija asked as the two headed outside, waiting on the taxi. She turned to Omari before she smirked, the subtle expression only broadening when he began to smile. “You can say it,” She sweetly coaxed, and he laughed softly to himself.
“Yeah...I am gonna miss you,” He said, and she raised her eyebrows before he chuckled lowly. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” He challenged.
“Not really, no,” She laughed softly before one of the taxi cabs pulled up to the curb. “But I’m gonna miss you too. That means you gotta Skype me whenever you can,” She instructed.
“I will, I promise,” He said before he held out his arms. Beija smiled before she walked into his arms, the two of them hugging one another before he slowly slid his hands up and down her back. “I’ll see you in...April, right?” He nodded.
“Yep,” She pulled back before she noticed the cab driver had put her bags away into the car. She waved before she got into the taxi and pulled from the curb.
As the taxi rolled through the streets, Beija let out a small sigh as she began to get comfortable in her seat. She unlocked her phone when she felt it vibrate, seeing that she had some unanswered texts.
“Have fun on tour! Be safe, make sure to get your work done too, and don’t do anything crazy,” Said one text from her mother.
Beija laughed to herself before quickly texting back. “Thanks, love you! See you at graduation,” She sent off the message before seeing the next couple of texts.
“Hey, sis—have a good flight. See you tonight,” From Ibrahim. “Have a safe flight!” From Cody and Dame. “Just got to the airport, actually. Maybe I’ll see you lol,” Replied Bas, who she had texted when she woke up earlier that morning. Last was what seemed to be a mass-sent text from Jermaine: “Just got to Eugene. Have a safe flight, y’all.”
Beija sent off some texts to reply to them all before she locked her phone, sitting back in her seat. Sometime later she finally got to JFK and after checking her bags and stopping at a Starbucks for some breakfast, she went towards her gate where her flight would be, and she saw Bas sitting near the check-in stand, scrolling through his phone.
“Bassy,” Beija sang once she got into his earshot, and he glanced up before he stood up to hug her. “You ready for tour?” She sat down next to him with her carry-on, sitting it next to her boot-clad feet.
“I’m always ready,” He chuckled lowly before he ran his hand across his cheek. “What about you, though? I know this gonna be a new thing for you,” He said.
“Oh, yeah. I’m more worried about handling these last classes I’m doing,” She said before she crossed her legs at the ankles.
“Word. I’m really glad you got to come with us, it’d be boring without you,” He chuckled. “But how do you feel about that? You finna get another degree—that’s gotta feel good.”
“It does! I feel like I’m following all my dreams and everything is falling together. I just hope that now that the easy part is over, that this new chapter coming won’t have me all fucked up,” She said as she shook her head.
“Beija Demarco...being worried. Can’t believe it,” He smacked his lips, making Beija chuckle. “I’m deadass! You really be holding it down,” He complimented.
“I learn from the best. Y’all got your shit together too so don’t even trip off me,” She chuckled a bit before she looked back, hearing the flight attendant announce the first set of passengers allowed to board. “Well, it’s go time,” She huffed as she stood to her feet. Bas stood up along with her and the two got in line to prepare to board.
The flight was a little over eight hours long—in the meantime, Beija did what schoolwork she could while she was on the flight. If she wasn’t working, she was reading or sleeping. She wanted to be able to actually rest when she got to Oregon, and this would have to be the best way to do so. Thankfully she wouldn’t be the only person having to do footwork, so she would be able to successfully balance whatever Ib needed her to do and her obligations to school.
When she and Bas got off their flight, they nabbed a taxi and headed for the designated hotel where everyone had reserved a room. With parting words for the evening, Beija was left to her own devices. She got to her hotel room and settled in before she sighed, laying across the bed before she huffed lowly. “So tired,” She mumbled to herself before she heard her phone vibrate against the side table.
Rolling over, she grabbed her phone before unlocking it and seeing the text notification. Unlocking her phone, she read over the latest text from Jermaine: “Heard you made it. What room you in?”
She sat up slowly, resting on her elbows as she began to text him back. “709. Why you tryna bother me?” She chuckled to herself before she sat up in bed, kicking off her boots so they’d land on the floor.
“Everybody else finna sleep and I’m hungry. Don’t get cute,” The next text made her laugh softly as she turned on the television, using the remote to flick through the stations.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. But you bringing me food?” She sent off the text before she accessed her Instagram app on her phone. She scrolled through her feed before liking a couple pictures, taking a selfie of her own before uploading it, deciding to leave the picture devoid of a caption as she usually did.
“Maybe. Come open the door, though.”
Beija heard two soft knocks at the door, and she glanced up from her phone before tossing it onto the mattress. Climbing out of the king-sized bed, she made her way towards the door before peeking through the peephole to ensure that Jermaine was actually at the door. Unlocking the door, she opened it before she glanced up at him. “Hey,” She greeted.
“Come on with me. We can get some food and come back,” He said, and she nodded as she allowed him inside the room while she went to retrieve her shoes and other items. After she grabbed her wallet, phone, and hotel key, the two headed out of her room and down the hallway. “How was your flight?” He asked as they continued towards the elevator.
“Long,” She huffed as she moved some of her curls out of her face. “If I wasn’t sleep I was up working on my homework,” She said.
“Oh yeah, lil’ school girl gotta get her study on,” He teased, chuckling when Beija attempted to push him away. “Try a little harder than that,” He continued to jest.
“You’re so fuckin’ rude. My nerves—you on ‘em,” She pointed at him.
A smile spread across Jermaine’s face, a bit of laughter slipping from his lips when Beija rolled her eyes. “Don’t be like that. It’s all love, remember?” He coaxed.
“It ain’t gonna be love when I whoop your ass,” Once the two reached the elevator, she pressed the button to beckon the elevator car, turning to face him.
“You? Whooping my ass? You’re like three feet, baby girl,” He held a hand out to hover just above her head, snatching his hand away before Beija could smack it away.
“I’m five four, thank you very much! And that don’t matter—you can still get rocked, Lamarr,” She said, and he raised his eyebrows.
“Oh we going into middle names? Shit ain’t even fair; I don’t know yours,” He complained.
“I don’t know yours,” Beija mocked, laughing once Jermaine sucked his teeth. “Crybaby. You don’t need to know,” She teased.
“You ain’t right,” He laughed as the elevator door opened, and the two stepped onto the elevator. “So...I wanna know somethin’, forreal. What made you want to become an A&R? Like, I know you told me when we met but I mean like—what was the moment that you knew this was your career choice?” He asked.
“Well, I think I just knew I wanted to be in the music industry somehow,” She leaned against the wall as she placed her hands into her pockets. “My mom and dad had all the old records you know—the Donny Hathaway, the Natalie Cole. Isley Brothers, Commodores, all that. And I remember during the summer time we’d have a big cookout,” Beija smiled at the memory, chuckling to herself. “It’d be the whole hood, family from across town. My dad’s people from New Orleans would come through too. My dad would get on that grill, and we’d eat and just talk. And music would play...it was happy times. Still happy times, you know?” She nodded.
“So you wanted to replicate the feeling. Get it out on a wide scale,” Jermaine assumed.
“Actually...yeah, that’s exactly it! I remember when I first heard Minnie Riperton sing. ‘Lovin’ You’ is still my shit—it made me feel so warm within. Like I was in love. I wanted to make somebody feel that through music, so I tried to sing, right?” She began to laugh.
“Oh hell no,” Jermaine laughed along with her as the elevator opened. The two stepped off the elevator and began to walk through the lobby, heading out into the cool night air. “I can only imagine you trying to hit that whistle,” He laughed a bit harder.
“Not too much, okay?” Beija giggled as they reached a Range Rover—it was what she could assume was his rental car while they were in town. He unlocked the door and opened her passenger door for her, helping her into the car before he jogged around to his side, getting in.
“Okay, so I assume the singing didn’t work out,” J seemed to not be able help but to smirk a bit as he spoke. “So what did you try to do next?” He asked curiously as he buckled his seat belt, starting up the car soon after.
“Well, I tried to learn an instrument—the piano. I’m not very good, though,” She nodded. “Then I was like, ‘Ooh, I’ll produce!’ I don’t have the ear for it, though. Could not at all,” She shook her head as she relaxed against the leather seat, crossing her legs slowly. “But then I realized that I knew what good music sounds like, what it feels like,” She stared out the window as they drove. “I remember I was about to start college, and Alicia’s ‘As I Am’ album came out—I was a teaching major, and I was planning on becoming a music teacher. I heard ‘Prelude to a Kiss,’ and I realized that I could still be a part of the industry. I wanted to find more artists that could make the world feel this...connection to music, that I think is slowly fading away as marketing becomes more important than the craft,” She
“Damn. That’s some deep shit, honestly. But I think that’s amazing that you have such a love for music like that. Not many people do these days like you said,” He nodded.
“Yeah! So that’s why I went for this job. This label, specifically. Like...I love you guys,” She laughed nervously. “Like not just as my people now, but like as artists—I respect you guys and that’s why I couldn’t see myself being anywhere else but Dreamville.”
“Oh? Look at this, you opening up,” Jermaine laughed a little bit. “But I appreciate you saying that. Because for real, like at the end of the day all these trends gon’ end one day but the legacy remains, you know? Fuck the sales, fuck the money—what’s left behind when you gone? What will people say about the way you made them feel?” He explained.
“Ugh, yes. That’s exactly what I mean. I want the music to be about the music again, not about the lifestyle or the money. I think the public deserves better than what other people give them a lot of the time,” She replied, and he nodded a bit.
“Man...ain’t shit to eat out here,” J mumbled lowly before he let out a wad of air. “You like Chick-fil-A? Because I don’t see shit else I like,” He explained.
“Do I? Boy, get in that drive-thru!” She laughed, and he smiled softly as he turned into the parking lot of the restaurant, heading towards the drive-thru line.
Once they order their food and drinks, the two headed back towards the hotel, making camp in Beija’s room. Once the two finished eating they found themselves talking again, laid across her bed. “Okay so, you got three brothers? How’d you survive? I barely got by with Zach,” Jermaine said, speaking of his own brother.
“Yeah—two older, one younger. But it actually made me tougher in my eyes,” She said as she ran her hand over her hair. “If you can survive constant roasts and fights as a girl amongst guys, you can handle anybody,” She spoke as she played aimlessly in her curls.
“I bet. I can tell you don’t let nobody put fear in your heart,” He said as he glanced up towards the television, which played a rerun of ‘Good Times.’
“I don’t. Nobody scares me but my parents and God Herself,” She said, and she noticed the way J looked at her. “What?”
“You think God’s a female?” He asked, and she nodded.
“Gotta be. Why you think women give birth and not men? We’re resilient as fuck—we work three times as hard to get equal recognition to men, we endure menstrual cycles, we have whole ass kids...all the while most of us try to uphold the stupid ass standards of today’s society, too. There’s no way we aren’t the direct image of God,” She explained.
“Hm...so what do you think of the Bible? I’m curious now,” He rubbed his hand against his beard.
“Bullshit,” She sucked her teeth softly. “The Bible was written by a bunch of men who figured they’d use the name of God to control what they want to control. Why do you think only one percent of the entire publication mentions women?” She asked.
“You lying,” He challenged.
“When’s the last time you read a bible, Jermaine?” She looked up at him, and he sucked his teeth before he began to laugh. “Uh-huh. Just like I thought,” Beija smiled as she went back to playing in her hair. “But for real, most of the women in the Bible were vilified. You ever noticed that? That’s mess to me, all things considering. Eve was made because Adam was lonely...not the other way around. So that’s how I know women are always needed. We’re more powerful than anyone could think,” She said.
“I will agree with that. Y’all some special people,” She glanced up to notice him watching her, a small smile spread across his lips. Her smile seemed to mirror his, their gaze locked on each other for a moment.
“So, tomorrow—are you ready?” She asked, and he shrugged a bit.
“Honestly? I’m kind of nervous if you want me to keep it all the way real with you,” J let out a small sigh. “This, for me...is a real personal album, you know? I mean, I always tell stories through my music but this time I’m in a different place. Hopefully I can really showcase and project that tomorrow and make people understand where I was at in that moment,” He said.
“Hm...ooh! Let’s try something,” Beija hopped out of bed before she sat down on the ground. Jermaine raised an eyebrow as he watched her cross her legs Indian style. She glanced up at him and smiled. “Come on,” She urged.
She watched as he slowly climbed out of bed, sliding off his sneakers before he sat down in front of her, crossing his legs. “So what we finna do...some cult shit?” He asked skeptically.
“No, just...take my hands,” She held out her hands to him.
“Hell naw. You finna call the corners and I’m not about to do this with you,” He said, and Beija laughed as she shook her head.
“Jermaine, come on! Don’t you trust me?” Her voice softened, and she took his hands in hers. When he finally seemed to relax, she nodded slowly. “Beyoncé did this once, so I know it will work,” She said.
“Oh, of course,” He flatly replied, and she chuckled softly.
“Shut up and close your eyes, okay?” She waited for him to close his eyes, and she gently squeezed his hands in approval. “Listen to my voice. Now...imagine tomorrow. Imagine you on stage in front of everyone. Imagine all the love that everyone has for you, and how much they connect with you. Now breathe deeply....in and out,” She watched as he began to breathe deeply, and she nodded. “Good. Inhale love and energy, and exhale doubt and negativity,” She said.
“Inhale love and energy,” J mumbled as he kept his eyes closed, breathing in deeply. “Exhale,” He sighed. “Exhale doubt and negativity,” He finished.
“Good...” Beija waited for him to finally open his eyes, and a small smile spread across her lips. “Do you feel better?” She asked.
“I actually do, surprisingly,” He tilted his head before he smiled gently. “So you a therapist or some shit too?”
“Shut up,” Beija laughed a bit before she let go of his hands, placing hers in her lap. “I just thought you needed that. Gotta just breathe,” She said before she furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m surprised that you of all people are nervous about performing. I’d expect it maybe from the other guys but you? Never,” She added.
“Even I get nervous, Miss Beija. Not everybody can have it together like you,” He shook his head slowly.
“I don’t always have it together, actually. But that’s how I get through it. I take a moment to breathe—I want you to think of it whenever you get nervous,” She nodded.
“You know, I will. Thank you,” He nodded before he stared down at the watch on his wrist. “Fuck, it’s getting late. I really should take my old ass to bed before I won’t be no good tomorrow,” The two slowly got themselves off of the floor, and Jermaine began to put his shoes back on.
“Right? We’ll both be looking like zombies,” Beija laughed softly before she looked up at him. “But I’m glad you came through—I had a lot of fun talking to you tonight,” She admitted.
“Me too, honestly. You’re really dope...I mean that,” For some reason, Beija felt that weird feeling at the pit of her stomach again. It was identical to the feeling she got when she and J were on the phone together at Christmas Eve. She couldn’t place it.
“So are you,” She smiled as he held out his arms, and she seemed to embrace him without thinking. She wrapped her arms around his torso, her head gently nestled against his chest. He smelled like some kind of cologne—something spicy, almost like cinnamon or something of the sort, and he was warmer than she would have ever expected. As quick as the moment came, the moment passed, and she pulled from him before he headed for the door. “Oh, J?”
“Huh?” He looked over his shoulder, reaching for the handle of the door.
“My middle name...it’s Imani,” She said, and she noted the broad smile that crossed his face. Soon enough he left the room, and she was left alone to clean up the trash they had left behind. After taking a shower and getting into some night clothes, Beija got into bed before she laid back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling before closing her eyes, letting out a soft sigh. Tomorrow would the beginning of a long Spring and Summer, and she was hoping that whatever came would bring her more happy memories.
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Your Heart’s Desire
a very late submission to tmntflashfic‘s valentine’s day prompt thing, since it got insanely long, and has to be broken up into parts.
Master Post of Chapters.
————————————————————————————-
Chapter Four.
“So how many more siblings do I gotta watch out for?” Casey asked, tossing a rubber ball up into the air and catching it before it hit his face. Mikey was out for the evening, and Casey figured he’d take the moment to ask some important questions. Like just how many demons were going to be gunning for his life.
Maybe he was handling this better than he should be. Hm.
“Two at least, three if we’re really unlucky,” Raph said from his position a few feet away. They were lying on the floor, because Casey was stuck on an essay, and felt like procrastinating as long as he could.
“Shit. Big family?”
“I guess. It’s big by some standards, tiny by others. Depends on what dimensional plain we’re hanging around in.”
“Who’re the other two or three sibs you got? I just got the one, and she lives back in New York with my dad.”
“Two more brothers, one older sister. Plus her wife.”
“None of the rest of you married?”
“Nah. Most demons don’t do that shit. Karai’s just a huge sap underneath all the murderous intent.”
Casey turned his head, glancing towards Raph. This was more information he’d gotten on the demon’s family in one go, in comparison to the few weeks he’d been living with Casey.
“Can you tell me about them?” Casey asked. “I’ll tell you about mine.”
Raph blew out a gust of air, and rubbed his face. “I’m technically not supposed to, and Donnie would get pissed I bet, but sure. Why not. You seem less likely to use the info against us than most humans. Too stupid to do anything useful with it.”
“Wow. Fuck you.”
Raph laughed, the sound coming from his chest. “So basically, Karai was our sire’s first ‘kid’ so to speak, and then came the four of me and my brothers. There’s a couple eon’s difference in age, and Karai lords it over us all the time. Bitch.”
“Sire?”
“Equivalent of our dad. He’s basically this near god level demon, and has claim over a good number of dimensions.”
“Dude… sick.”
“He’s less cool than he sounds. He used to be a really active power, but the last couple centuries he’s really mellowed out. He spends most of the time possessing people so he can watch his soaps.”
“Still though…” Casey said, trying to imagine Raph’s dad. He probably was huge, way huger than Raph. Probably more horns too. And spikes. Shit he should totally draw that some time. “Why’d he chill out though? If I were a demon overlord, you couldn’t get me to do that even if you tried.”
“He’s old,” Raph explained plainly. “He’s been alive longer than any mortal being can comprehend, and he’s getting ready to step down.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. One of us’ll be next in line, unless someone tries to steal the spot like his brother did.”
“You and your sibs?”
“Yeah. It might be Karai, might be Leo. Donnie doesn’t want anything to do with it, and I’m with him on that. It’s a lot of work to police dimensions. Off chance it could be Mikey, but we’d probably see the collapse of a number of realties if that happened.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. It’ll probably be Karai. She is the oldest.”
“How’s that work anyways?” Casey asked. “Like, are little demon babies are a thing?”
“Not really. Either you’re made into a demon artificially, or you’re sired as one. With sired demons, like me and my siblings, we start as semi-sentient blobs made from two or more essences, and get nurtured by whichever demon is the main ‘parent’. Mine was my dad.”
“Who was the mom then? Or did your dad have a fling with chaos or somethin’,” Casey half joked, thinking of Mikey.
Raph didn’t answer, suddenly going quiet. Casey turned to look at him again, and saw Raph staring at the ceiling with an unreadable expression. “Raph?”
“She. She, uh… she died, pretty much right after she brought us into existence,” Raph said, voice soft. “I only knew her for a little while, and then she was gone.”
“Dude, shit,” Casey said, suddenly feeling like a nosy asshole. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“No, it’s fine,” Raph said, sighing. “You asked and I answered.”
“I’m still sorry. What happened, if you don’t, uh, mind me asking about that too?”
“Well… she was human, for starters. My dad fell in love with her.”
That really got Casey’s attention. “Yooooo… demons can fall for humans?”
“Everyone can love, or so my dad says. Anyways,” Raph coughed awkwardly. “She wasn’t from this dimension, but it was close enough in design that it had humans still. My dad sort of just… met her one day, and knew she was the one. He was possessing a human at the time, and he literally bumped into her on accident.”
“Sounds kinda like a rom-com plot,” Casey commented. “But with demons.”
“Ha, yeah I guess. Point being, they fell in love, yada yada yada, and spent a few years being happy and stuff. She even knew my dad was a demon and thought it was fine.”
“She sounds like a cool lady,” Casey said honestly.
Raph grinned fondly. “Yeah. I only sort of remember her, since I wasn’t like, fully alive yet, but she was. She definitely was.” His grin slipped, and a hint of grief appeared in his eyes. “She gave her soul to my dad to save us all.”
“…how so?”
“My dad had a brother, another big time demonic influence. He wanted my dad’s turf, and he came for him when he realized my dad had created a chink in his defenses,” Raph sighed, long and heavy. “Tang Shen. She was the chink. She also ended up being the thing that defeated my dad’s brother.
“He’d poisoned us, me and my brothers. We were already starting to form inside mom, and he poisoned our essences. It was killing Tang Shen too, but it was mostly meant of us. Karai was already a fully-fledged demon, so my technical uncle went after my dad’s unborn spawn instead. Easier targets for eliminating potential successors or usurpers.
“It ended up being us or Tang Shen, and… she chose us. Told my dad to take her soul, and use its power to revive us and destroy his brother...”
“And then what?” Casey asked as Raph trailed off.
“And then he did,” Raph finished, still staring at the ceiling. “She died right after, since taking a human’s soul right away will kill them. I… I sort of miss her still. It’s been a really, really long time, but…”
Raph trailed off again, and a solemn quiet settled in the room.
Casey turned his eyes to the ceiling, feeling uncomfortable with how quickly things had gotten serious.
“That got heavy really fast,” Casey commented in a hushed voice.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“ ‘s cool. My turn then.” Casey tossed his rubber ball again, and caught it as it fell. “I got my dad and my sister still, but I, uh, lost my mom too. She got pretty sick one year when I was still a kid, and just… never got better. It sucked really bad for a long time. My dad had it especially hard, since he had two kids to feed, a whole lot of bills to deal with, and not a lot of extra support. So I. Uh. I get it. Missin’ your mom even after a long time.”
“…hey Casey?”
“Yeah Raph?”
“Lemme try something.”
Casey felt more than saw the runes appear on his chest, and watched as it fizzled out again right after. He blinked, sitting up halfway to put a hand on the spot. “What was that for?”
“I was seeing if… if what you’d wanted was your mom to come back. I could do that. One soul for another. Um. It wasn’t though. I’m sorry.”
Casey blinked, and bit his lip.
That sounded too good to be true, and he wasn’t sure what he thought of his past self for not taking that chance. Even if he hadn’t known there was one.
“It’s fine,” Casey said quietly. “You gotta keep moving forwards an’ stuff no matter what. ‘s my motto. I’m not really surprised I didn’t ask for that.”
Casey missed his mom, and probably always would, but he wasn’t sure if he could do that to his family. To his mom. Bring her back and throw everything into chaos.
It was probably best he hadn’t made that his desire, even if the idea dragged back up old hurts. Of wanting to give anything to get her back.
Casey swallowed thickly, and rubbed his eyes.
Raph didn’t say anything, other than shifting onto his side, facing away from Casey. After a minute, Casey lay back down as well.
They lay there in silence, Casey listening to the kitchen clock ticking, and the slow breaths Raph was taking.
Oh god things had gotten awkward. Heavy and awkward. Why had Casey even asked that shit?
He’d wanted to know more about demons, not dead moms. Why did things always turn into dead moms?
Life imitates art or something like that.
“You wanna go play street hockey?” Casey asked, trying to get rid of the smothering feeling of grief.
“Yeah. Yeah I do. Don’t fuck up your knee this time.”
“No promises.”
Mikey didn’t come home that night, and Casey knew that for sure because he fell asleep on the couch with Raph, waiting up for the wayward demon.
Casey woke briefly, because some red light had been hovering over him, and it’d roused him.
“ ‘s goin’ on…” Casey slurred, mostly asleep still.
“Shh, it’s nothing,” Said a dark shape close by him. “Go back to sleep.”
“Raph…? What’re you doin’…”
“Just… just something. Don’t worry about it. Just go back to sleep already, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Maybe a few weeks ago, Casey would’ve woken up all the way and demanded to know what was happening. But now?
“Sure,” Casey mumbled, turning onto his side and pushing his face into the couch cushions. “Go t’ sleep yourself though. ‘s fuckin’ late…”
“I will. I promise.”
“ ‘kay…”
Casey trusted Raph enough not to do weird shit while he was asleep. He could rest and not have to worry about anything.
But Raph wasn’t there when he woke up, which set off a couple alarm bells in Casey’s head. It was weird, waking up to an apartment empty except for him. He’d gotten used to having another individual around twenty-four-seven.
Casey made himself a quick breakfast, and ate it quietly in his empty feeling kitchen.
The demon showed up around lunch, casual as anything as he waltzed in through the balcony doors, tucking his wings back into nonexistence as he did. Casey didn’t ask where Raph had been, and Raph didn’t supply any answers.
They had chicken strips (Casey’s) and raw beef (Raph’s) for dinner, and didn’t discuss anything from the day before.
Casey was smoking on his balcony, because that was where you supposed to smoke dammnit, when he received yet another unwanted visitor.
Said unwanted visitor sped by his balcony, grabbing Casey as they went, and as Casey was swept up into the air yet again- he figured it might be time to quit smoking.
Thankfully, or maybe not so thankfully, the demon that’d grabbed him dropped Casey onto the roof of his apartment complex. Landing with sweeps of their huge- seriously huge- wings, the lithe demon loomed over Casey.
Casey scrambled to his feet, squaring up against the newcomer. Shit, was this a big one. Casey kept his hands steady anyways. “Okay motherfucker, I don’t know which one of Raph’s bros you are, but back the hell off! I’m not ‘enthralling’ him or whatever, so you can cool it with the trying to kill me thing!”
"̷O͡f ̵ço̶u͜rs͡e h̛e͟ pi̛c̵k͘ed͡ ̧a ̕m̀oųt͏h҉y o̵ne͢,"͜ The demon growled, flashing teeth as he stalked around Casey. The demon was a lot taller than Raph and Mikey had been, and leaner all around. He looked like he was built for pure speed, and reach too if the tail was as flexible as it seemed.
Casey was so busy examining the demon’s differences from his brothers, he missed the moment Raph’s unidentified brother attacked.
The demon was suddenly on top of Casey again, slamming him down against the concrete rooftop with a huge hand on his chest. The demon’s teeth were then right in front of Casey’s face, and he got a hot gust of demon breath blown right in his face.
Casey wheezed, feeling his ribs bruise and his lungs nearly collapse.
"͞Lęt̨'s j̵u͟st ̴gét ͘t͜his ov͞e̕r ̡w͡i̶th͝,"̢ The demon said in a put upon tone, opening his jaws wide and bearing down on Casey’s neck.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE, DONNIE!”
The demon- Donnie apparently- snapped his jaws shut right in front of Casey’s nose, and leaned his long neck away. The tips of his long horns caught the daylight as he looked evenly at his furious brother. "̡Ŗa̵p̴h͝.̡ ̛Lòng͞ ̨ti̛m̢e no ́see.͢I ͢w͡as ̛ju̴s̶t̷ ͠ta͡k̷i̕n̷g c͞are ͝of ̕thin̨gs."
Casey turned his head, and woozily caught sight of a more familiar demon he knew.
Wow Raph did look pissed.
“I said-” Raph growled, snapping his wings out as he took a threatening step towards the larger demon. “-don̡'t y̛ou͠ f̴ưc̷k̴ing ͟d̛a̶r͝e.͏"
Donnie huffed, still not easing his hold on Casey’s steadily collapsing chest. "̡I'm not ̵ǵo̢ing̷ ̀t҉o͠ l̢e̡t y̢ou̴ ̀do͝ ̵t̀hi͟s̡ ̀to yours͟elf͜ ągain,̸ ͠Rap͘h. It'ş ̡for ̛y͡o͞ur͏ o͟w͞n̢ ǵo̶od͞.̢"
"́Y͟ou d͟o͟n't͡ ̀g̶et͏ ͘to make th͢at̸ dec͞i̴si͢o͘n̸ fo̴r͏ ͞me̶,̢"͘ Raph said in a hissing voice, steadily shifting closer and closer to full demon form. Scales covered his arms and crawled up his neck, same time as Raph’s eyes turned pure green. "́N͏o ̢o̸n͠e͞ ͘d̢oes.̨"
"Oh ͡pl̶ea̕s͘e͡,̡ h͡e'͜s͟ ͘n͏ơt̢ ͢w͠o̷rt͏h҉ i̵t̛.̶ ͝H̕e̵'͡ś b̴ar̨ély ̷wǫr͡th̕ ́ȩat́iņg̵.̡ A̧nd ̴b͡es͘ide͞s,͠ ͢it͠'s not ̸like̢ ͟you ҉a̶ĺready m-̧" Donnie broke off, as something flickered in the air too fast for Casey’s blackening vision to catch. Even with the reptilian features and steady loss of oxygen in his brain, Casey read dawning horror in the demon’s expression.
"Y̷ơu ͏d̡idn̶'͟t,͘"͘ Donnie said, not asked, in a quiet voice.
“Just get off him, Dee. You know the rules,” Raph said in a low tone, his own voice returned to normal reverberation.
It took another moment, but Donnie’s stupidly huge hand lifted off Casey’s aching ribs, and he sucked in a much needed gush of air.
Casey saw spots in his vision, and tilted sideways as he tried to stand up. Someone’s arm caught him though, and Casey found himself being supported by Raph.
“Why’re all your brothers-” He coughed. “-assholes,” Casey asked, throat raspy and feeling aches blooming all around his rib cage.
Donnie sneered at them both. "Ǹo͡ w̨o̵rd͢ fr̕om ̢y͏o̢ù ̸fo̢r͝ ̸o͠v̕èr a̷ ̢mo҉ntḩ, ̶a͡nd I̵ f͡i̵nd y̛ou ͢lik͏e҉ this͜.̧ A͠n͠d o̡nly͠ bèc̕au͏s͞e̛ M̧ike̢y͜ ̵c͝a̷me̕ a̛nd͟ tol͠d͜ ̨me̸ ̵w̛h͡a̴t͏ y͢o̵u̡'̡d bee͡n up͘ t͜o."
͠
“What I do in my spare time doesn’t concern you,” Raph said, stepping defensively in front of Casey.
"It d͝oés̢ ͏s̴o!" Donnie exclaimed, stomping one of his front limbs. "̡I'm̀ ̷ąl̵l͘o͞wed to be ̀çonc͢ern͢ed͠ w̷h͏e̷n͜ ̶my broth͡èr͜ v̀an̡ìs͠he̕s̶ ͡f̢ór͞ ́w͟ee͏ks̀ on̴ ̨e̷nd̨,͞ ̷aǹd̵ ̷t͞u̶ŕn̡s̢ o͠ut͘ t͝o͟ h̶a͘v̶e̴ beén h͠i͘ḑin͟g o̵u͝t wi͞t̨h̴ ͟a ́h̴uma̕n̸ ͘ţh͜ís ẃh́ol̕e ̢t҉im̨e!"̡
“He’s not hiding out,” Casey interjected. “He’s stuck here ‘cause I made a contract with him, and then forgot what for.”
Donnie shot him a look, luminous red eyes glaring harshly at Casey. "̛S͢h̸ut up. I͞ do̶n̶'̀t͠ want t͘o҉ he͟ar ̕ęxcu̵ses fróm̷ ͝s͜o͞m̧e̕ s͝t͏up̕i̷d ͜hu̡m̡an my̢ brother͞'s̷ ͜t͜a͡k͜en͘ to."
“Hey! You don’t get to talk to him like that, Donnie,” Raph said, jabbing a finger at his much taller brother. “I’m the only who does.”
"̨R̨a͢ph, quít͏ ̀i͠t w͠įth͘ th͡i̴s̵ ͟nonsenşe,͝ ͜and̷ jus͢t̀ ki̡l̶l̢ h͟i̛m ̕aĺre͠ady͞," Donnie said, lowering his head to be eye level with Raph. "̸T̶her͠e͠'̵s ́no̢ ͠pòi͘n̵t įn p̢ur͞s͡ui̵ng ͞t͡his̢. ̶Y̧ou ̷k̀n͢òw̡ ͡ḩow̕ ̴i̸t'̨l̢l͜ ́en̸d͟.͘ ͜L͟et'͘s͏ j͝u͢st ̧go̸ hơme án͜d ͜f̵o͏r͠ge͏t th̛is ȩve͜r̨ ha͘p̨p͡ene͘d͡."̶
“No.” Raph growled, not giving an inch.
Donnie flashed his teeth, and he rose back to his full height. His wings snapped out again, and his tail whipped around behind him. "̡I ͠g̀ųe̷s͜s̀ I͞'ll̢ hàv͠e̕ to ųse ̕forc̕e t͝h̸e͡n."̛
“Fucking br͡iņg ҉i͘t̶,"̧ Raph growled, starting to get bigger.
Casey was caught between ‘hell yes demon battle’ and ‘oh fuck demon battle’- when Donnie’s tail whipped across the roof the wrong way, and demolished the small garden in the corner.
Casey’s terror/excitement took a nosedive, and turned into pure horror.
The sound of clattering across the rooftop made everyone pause, and Casey turned slowly to look for the source.
April was standing in the open doorway from the rooftop entrance, her tools and watering can dropped on the ground beside her. She was staring at the disaster zone Donnie had made of her garden, clutching only her broom still.
Casey grabbed Raph’s shoulder, and started to tug him away from the danger zone. “Okay, we’re leaving now.”
“What? No, Casey I have to-”
“My garden,” April said, voice just loud enough to be heard across the roof. “You destroyed my garden.”
Donnie turned a condescending look on her, and scoffed. "͘Th͟i̸s͠ dóes̶n̕'͏t c̕o͞nc̛er̢n͞ ỳo͝u, m̸òr̸t̶al͟.͞ ̷Leáv̢e̸ w͠hi̕le ̴y͝ou st͡ill can."
“That was five months of work,” April said, pale and wide eyed. Her grip around her broom tightened to knuckle white. “Five months of work. Gone. I was writing my whole thesis on it.”
"I͘s s̡h̛è ̨d͟e͟af? ̛I told ͏her͏ ͠to l̀e̡a͠v̸e̛ ͝a̕lre̕a̵d̢y̵-"
“FIVE. MONTHS .OF WORK!” April suddenly shouted, causing everyone to jump, even Donnie. She’d lost the shocked expression on her face, and turned it into pure fury. “AND THIRTY PAGES OF THESIS! GONE. WORHTLESS.”
“Okay I see your point,” Raph whispered in an abruptly small voice, willingly backing away now. Casey nodded jerkily, and tugged Raph towards the edge of what was probably going to be the splash zone for blood.
April marched across the roof, broom swinging in her grip as she did, straight towards the visbily unsettled dragon-demon responsible for her garden’s violent death.
April glared up at Donnie, no hint of any fear from their height differences. “Shrink down. I know you can, because he can.” She pointed at Raph, who was trying to slip behind Casey. “So do it. Shrink down right. this. second.”
Donnie looked down at her, seeming confused by April’s commanding tone. "U̵h- ͡ex̶cu͟se me̢-?"
April swung her broom around in a vicious swing, and made contact with a harsh slap to Donnie’s side. He yelped, and tried to shy away, only for April to chase after him.
“SHRINK DOWN!”
"̨You'r̶e̡ i͝nsa̢n͜e͘!"
“DO IT!”
"N͝O̶!́"̴
“Do it or so HELP ME GOD-!”
Casey watched his neighbor and best friend chase the demon sizes bigger than her, using only a broom and her terrifying temper to cow him. Raph had fully hidden himself behind Casey at that point, and Casey did his best to shield his other friend from April’s wrath.
Eventually, after April managed to land several consecutive hits to Donnie’s head and horns, he poofed into smoke, and rematerialized as a long haired human with tall horns. “Okay! I did it! Leave off you insane woman-”
April whacked him across the shins with her broom, literally sweeping Donnie’s long legs out from under him.
“Now fix it, you over grown lizard!”
“Fix what?! OW!”
“MY GARDEN!!” April screamed, pure fury in her voice. Her red hair flared up around her head, exactly like fire in the wind. She looked more demonic than the lanky man on the ground, currently trying to protect his tall horns and long tail from her broom.
Donnie then yelled something Casey couldn’t quite understand, and he stumbled for a moment- vision skewing violently. Raph steadied from behind thankfully, a warm hand placed in the center of Casey’s back.
April seemed utterly unaffected, continuing her assault on Donnie. The two of them were back to throwing insults at one another, and Donnie actually seemed a bit scared now. April continued whacking him with her broom anyways.
Casey- shaking off whatever Donnie had just done to his hearing- managed a wince on behalf of the fallen demon. “I actually feel sorry for the dude.”
“Me too,” Raph said, now fully hidden behind Casey. Though, he apparently didn’t feel sorry enough for his brother to actually intervene.
“Ooooooh shit. Dee’s really getting it now.” A cheery voice said from behind them. Casey glanced over his shoulder, and saw a mostly human Mikey clinging to the roof railing. He waved to Casey.
“Mikey! You told Donnie where I was?” Raph hissed accusingly at his brother.
“Nuh uh! Just that you were okay and junk, and sorta maybe chillin’ with a human.”
“Mikey.”
“Hey, at least I didn’t say anythin’ to Leo or Karai! Or Shini. Yikes.”
“Are you giving him our names?!” Donnie shrieked across the roof. “Guys! What have we talked about?!”
Mikey shrugged with a guiltless grin. “Hey, Raph did it first.”
“Names mean a thing?” Casey asked, struggling to keep track of the situation.
“Yes, yes they mean a thing!” Donnie exclaimed. “It would have been nice to know that you’ve both been handing them out like candy, and that Raph’s human’s neighbor was a witch!”
“April’s a witch?” Casey asked, even more confused. “April, you’re a witch and you never told me??”
“Don’t call me names!” April yelled, sweeping at Donnie again. “Just because you’re in trouble doesn’t mean you get to call me names!”
“April’s a witch? What?” Casey questioned again, this time aiming it at the demon hiding behind his back.
“I thought you knew!” Raph said in a panicked voice.
“I thought so too!” Mikey added.
“I DIDN’T SO WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!” Donnie yelled over April’s broom whacking.
April, apparently unbothered by the side conversations that’d developed, hit Donnie again. “Fix it!”
“I AM, you psychotic woman- ACK-!”
“Yeesh, so no movie night tonight?”
“Not the priority here, idiot!”
“I don’t know what’s happening anymore but guys please don’t attract her attention over here she’ll- APRIL WAIT I HAD NO PART IN THIS-”
“STOP BRINGING DEMONS INTO OUR APARTMENT!”
April being a witch made a horrendous amount of sense. The plants, the insane natural talent she had with chemicals and science in general, the bizarre way she’d been dealing so fearlessly with Casey’s accumulating demon population…
Casey thought it was amazing.
April didn’t think as much.
“That sounds fake,” She said, arms crossed to the demon she was staring down.
Donnie, who had managed to get off the ground again now that things were calmed down, stared back at her. “You are. I can sense latent power all around you.”
“Fake.” April said again. “I don’t believe you for a second. Witches don’t exist.”
“I’m a demon, I’m standing right in front of you. You’ve been living with a demon, if only by association, for more than a month. How can you deny that witches exist?”
“You have to draw the line somewhere, and I’m drawing it here.”
“I don’t understand you humans. At all.”
She’d raised her broom threateningly in response, and Donnie had backed off with his hands raised.
April had eyed them all, eyed her restored garden, and then hefted her broom again. Everyone got the message.
Then she’d left, flipping her loose ponytail over her shoulder as she did.
Casey laughed aloud as she shut the door behind her. “Wow! I can’t believe none of us died! That’s a relief. Now someone explain my best friend being a witch. Seriously. What the fuck.”
Something then lashed out at his head, and Casey didn’t even have time to react before Raph yanked him down, and Donnie’s clawed hand was caught by Raph’s.
“Dammnit,” Donnie cursed shortly.
“I just said-” Raph growled, yanking his much taller brother to his level. “-don’t touch him.”
“And I just said-” Donnie growled back, knocking his long horns and forehead against Raph’s. “-this is going to end in disaster.”
“Oh my god, none of you have any chill,” Casey said, trying to wiggle out of Raph’s restraining grip.
Both of the quarreling demons let out rolling snarls, and Casey was practically tossed aside by Raph as they started fighting again.
The roof was covered in black smoke, and then there were two huge dragons wrestling right in front of Casey. He very closely avoided getting smacked in the face by Donnie’s whipping tail.
And- shit- the cement was cracking, and Raph’s mouth was starting to glow and produce smoke, and Donnie’s was crackling with purple light, and everything smelt like ozone and rain and sort of like a forest fire-
-they both summoned magic circles, bright red against bright purple, and-
-a giant portal opened up underneath them, and they both fell into with surprised bellows.
The orange ringed portal closed up without a sound, and it was like there’d never been demons around to begin with.
Casey looked over at Mikey, who was still holding his hands out with his legs apart.
Mikey looked at Casey, and gave a winning smile. Complete with deadly canines.
“What the fuck.” Casey said, not asked.
“They needed time to cool off,” Mikey explained.
“So you sent them to hell?”
“Maaaaybe?? I don’t know. It just sort of- poofed them off? Somewhere?? They’re gonna come back don’t worry. Donnie’s good at finding his way home, no matter where I poof him.”
“Oh my god.”
“Soooo…” Mikey gave him a cat-ish grin, coy and sly. “Can we go eat all the raw meat and watch a movie till they get back? I mean, they’ll probably get a snack along the ways anyhoo, so like, they ain’t gonna miss that meat, right? Ha ha.”
Mikey’s tail was lashing around excitedly, the curly crest on it bouncing around as it did. He looked way too proud of himself and way too okay with the fact that Raph and Donnie were probably going to come back pissed.
Casey thought for a moment.
Hm. If worse came to worst, he could just call his friendly neighborhood witch to subdue everyone. And speaking of-
“We can if you tell me about April being a witch.”
“Oh totally, and I get dibs on the steak too!”
“Uh. Wasn’t gonna eat it, so sure.”
Technically Raph had been planning to, but keeping Mikey from eating things that weren't exactly dead yet was more important.
next part.
#my writing#Your Heart's Desire tag#update!!#look its an update!#sort of short#but very heartfelt i assure you#.....except maybe the second half#which is us resuming our insanity and shenanigans as two humans two demons and now a third demon cohabit the same building#oh the glory of it all#i'm sure nothing will go wrong#tmnt#TMNT 2012#Donatello#April O'neil#Casey Jones#michelangelo#rasey
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