#I am once again boom operating
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O-
GhostxFem!medic!reader
Reader is a medic that has been assigned to specifically take care of TF141. She learns just how difficult the lieutenant can be.
SFW, CW for- language, more then likely medical inaccuracies
You had worked next to Price shortly a few years after he started. Your impressive skill level always imprinted on him. After he became the Captain, he had sought you out specifically. The risks of the missions he was on he wanted someone he could trust on standby to take care of him and his men if something were to happen. Sure, you knew your way on the battlefield and could do basic operations if needed, but your area of expertise was caring for the injured. It was almost like you were hardwired and made for it, a natural.
Once learning Price had requested you, sought you for so long- it was a no-brainer to join him and his team.
"Ready to meet everyone?" He asked, his voice quiet but still carrying a booming effect.
"Sure am," she you replied, crossing your arms as he led her to his office. Inside stood 3 men. One that wore a blue hat in casual attire, the second one with bright blue eyes and a mohawk, and the other was a large looming man that leaned against the desk face covered with a skull balaclava, dressed all in black.
"Would like you all to meet the team medic, this is Y/N L/N. I sought her specifically for us."
Y/N stuck her hand out to greet everyone, shaking the first two, easily learning their names as Gaz and Soap. The third one, however, did not step forward to shake her hand. One could feel the distrust from his gaze.
Fine, You thought to yourself and instead stood next to the Captain again.
Price explained your duties and how you would be attending missions with them on scene, in your own helicopter, and would respond as needed.
"If I could have dog tags, just to have full name and blood type, I'd appreciate it. Makes it easier for me to log and store blood if needed."
Again, the first two she met and Price complied, handing their dog tags over with ease. The large one never left his stance from the desk, arms crossed, hands never reaching into his shirt.
"Lieutenant," Price said just shy of a scolding manner.
"No worries, Captain, I'll manage." you said, waving it off. Honestly, far from offended, dealing with difficult men your entire career, becoming used to it. Price looked at you, shocked, wondering how you would "deal" with it. Scribbling the information down, your own chicken scratch looking difficult to anyone else who might read it before handing the tags back. "Thanks," you said cheerily, handing the tags back. "Lieutenant," nodding in his direction still being courteous to him. "I'll be in the MedBay updating my records and starting carts for all of your needs. Hope you all have a pleasant day." Nodding, and stepped through the group of men.
Once the door was shut, they all turned to Ghost appalled by his behavior to such a kind woman. "Why ya' gotta be like that, mate?" Soap asked him.
"Don't trust new people," he grumbled, leaving them all to shake their heads.
Time had passed, you had her records all updated and built trust with three of the group she cared for. Not quite with "Skullface" though, as you called him. Being on the team with the TF141, means you still had to qualify on all weapons... leaving you at the mercy of the range with the grumpy Lieutenant as he was the instructor.
His tone came across condescending at the very start. The first weapon he picked was a handgun. He showed how to load and reload the mags, how to place it in the bottom of the guns and forcefully shove up to make sure the mags don't fall out. How to use the iron sights and the difference between red dots, the difference between calibers - things already known by you but dared not say anything wanting to make a point. He handed back the pistol, taking aim, and shortly emptied the clip, hitting the metal target in the center. The ping echoed, target shaking with each bullet. Managing tactical reload, dropping the mag, pulling the full one from your belt, reloading it, and doing the same thing.
"You know how to use a gun?" he asked stunned.
"I do."
"You could have led with that."
"Didn't want to interrupt your whole "spiel, "seeming it's the most you've said to me the entire time I've been here."
Behind him, Price stood smiling, arms crossed as he stood at the front of the range. Game, set, match, he thought to himself comically.
"Can we do shotgun next, or are you gonna break the basics down for me on that, too?" Your tone playing coy, making Ghost shake his head, handing her the shotgun.
The day was over faster than Ghost expected it to be, thinking you would be inexperienced.
"I'm sorry I treated you like that," Ghost said humbly as they picked up the empties.
"Used to it."
This answer caused silence among them both. You took it upon yourself that he was waiting for you to answer why.
"Most men in this field just see me as a nurse. They seem to forget that Medic's have to be battle trained, too. Used to being treated like that."
He turned to look at you. "Shouldn't be a medic, you're better than most of the soldiers I've seen in the field."
"All be it surprised, I'm a better medic, then I am on the battlefield."
"Have to be one hell of a medic then."
"I am." you said confidently, throwing the expended bullet casings into a bucket to be repressed.
How grateful you were, that it ended on a positive note between the two this time.
"Here," he said, going to hand her his dog tags.
"Don't need them any more."
Even though his face was covered, you could tell he was confused by your response.
"Got it taken care of." smiling widely to him, throwing your assigned weapons over your shoulder and heading back to the base.
You had left him preplexed and him watching that smile never leave as your legs carried you away. Satisfaction filling you, knowing you made your mark on him.
"Fuckin' hell," he said quietly to himself.
Inevitably, the day came. Ghost had found himself and Soap injured, Ghost was losing blood rapidly, taking the grunt of whatever exploded. They requested evac but had to wait for an extraction team to get to him. His conscious status was in and out, vaguely remembering you and your squad getting to him and Soap. Your facial features make you seem like you were is glowing, the light being so bright. If he had not seen your ability to be deadly, he would have thought an angel was standing before him from the golden glow.
The next thing he knew, he was on the helicopter, finally coming to. He started to sit up quickly, the sudden alertness making him realize what had just happened
"Sit your ass still," you growled to him.
Even as a threat, your voice calmed him, making him indeed sit still.
"Where's Johnny?"
"Next to you, across the bird behind the curtain, my team got him stitched and wrapped up. Hold still," You said, pulling his arm back to her. He realized you were stitching him, hand holding his arm close. Noticing the IV for fluid and another for blood attached into his other arm. There, he saw a rolling cart with "Skullface" wrote on the top where his name should have been, bags of O- blood inside it.
"My blood type isn't O-," he said, head rolling over to look at her.
"Mine is. It's the universal donor."
Finally, he realized what you meant.
"That's your blood?"
"Yup, been pulling mine off for your cart in case something happened since you wouldn't give me your tags that day."
He was silent for a bit. That was her way of managing... using your own blood to save him. "I'm sorry I was such an asshole to you."
"Stop. You already apologized. Just be grateful I did what I did and didn't leave you to bleed out." Some men just needed tough love.
Somehow, you had struck him. He was seeing you in a different light once more. How grateful he was for his mask because if it wasn't there.. you would be able to read his face. Adoration and all. He leaned back into the pillow, letting you finish and look him over. Fingers ghosted across his skin as you moved his body to be able to check for whatever it was you were looking for. No resistance was given by him now. You had earned just more than his respect and trust. Just on the ride back to base, you already had him stitched up.
"Still will have to do scans to make sure there is no internal bleeding, but have to do that back at base. I'm glad you're still alive." you said, patting his thigh in an area that you knew was not injured.
"Fuckin' hell," a phrase he found saying all too much with you. Eyes watching your walk away and prepare for landing.
Soap pulled back his curtain, smiling mischievously at Ghost.
"Not a fuckin' word," he grumbled to him, knowing all to well that Soap knew that Ghost had caught feelings for hyou.
Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist
#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#mw2#simon riley#call of duty#call of duty mw2#ghost#ghost x fem reader#ghost X female reader#simon x fem reader#simon X female reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon x reader
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Warrior Song 8
Find the series masterlist
Again: playing fast and loose with canon. Noteably with AIs and how they operate or don’t operate over distances. Also, I am not a medical professional, so y’know. Keep that in mind.
We hit our first major road bump since the fall of the Infinity.
Warnings: violence, blood, questionable medical advice, swearing, some lack of self-value, Feelings, sweetness at the end.
Word count: 2.7k
The next few days were quiet. Eventually, you had gone back to the Pelican, Fernando had apologized, and the lot of you had gone on your way to the next clue.
Nobody brought up the cuddle pollen again.
“Anything new?” you asked Joy idly. The AI had connected to your tablet to help keep track of things in multiple places at once, so you’d taken her along with you to gather up water. The stream you’d tested was clear and drinkable, so you were busy refilling water bottles and big containers to haul back to the Pelican.
“Not yet,” Joy said, using the speakers on your tablet. “So far this place is pretty quiet!”
“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” you drawled.
“Wait.” Joy was quiet for a few moments. “I’ll update you later.” And she was gone, attention pulled to whatever was going on with Blue Team.
Unease churned in your gut, but you figured she’d let you know if there was anything you could do to help. So you just finished up with your task, taking the refilled water bottles back to the Pelican before you and Fernando team lifted the water tanks.
“We’ll have to head back to base soon,” Fernando puffed as you two shoved a water tank back onto the ship. “Getting low on fuel.”
“I’m surprised it took this long,” you agreed with a little huff. “I feel like we must have traversed half the ring by now.”
“Not quite,” Fernando said, shoving the tank back into place. “But close. And still no closer to having answers.”
You hummed, taking a seat. “Well, either they’ll find answers, or there aren’t answers to find anymore.” You shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe the part of the ring that got blown up, or whatever, is the part that had the answers. Maybe they don’t exist anymore.”
“Would be nice if that’s that easy.” Fernando sighed. “Never seems to be, though.”
You hummed, tipping your head back against the wall of the Pelican. “Hopefully we’ll get some news soon. All of this is more boring than I thought it would be.”
“That’s because you missed all the fireworks,” Fernando said, sinking down into the seat next to yours. “That first week was…”
“A lot?” you suggested gently.
“That’s one way to put it.” Fernando sighed. “Come on, one more tank to move. Let’s get it done.”
“Alright, alright.” You stood again and stretched your arms up over your head. Then you followed Fernando outside and got to work.
You didn’t hear anything, didn’t see anything. One minute you were helping carry the tank of water, the next there was a boom and your leg collapsed out from under you. Fernando yelled, scrambling for his gun, and you blinked stupidly for a moment.
And then the chittering of Jackals caught your attention, and you decided now would be a good time to move. Only your leg wouldn’t support your weight, and you crumpled with a shout.
Fernando fired off two quick shots, kneeling next to you. “Can you move?” he asked, keeping his weapon raised and trained on where you assumed the Jackals had been.
“No.” You clenched your jaw tight, pain lancing up your leg as you tried to move. A quick look showed blood. A lot of blood. A through and through shot, maybe.
“Okay. This is gonna suck.” Fernando took one hand off his gun to haul your arm up and over his shoulders. And then he stood, dragging you with him. For a moment, the pain was so intense you feared you’d scream or black out, but you did neither. Just breathed harshly through your teeth and tried your best to keep your weight off the injured leg.
Fernando fired again twice more, swearing near constantly under his breath. “Almost there,” he huffed.
Your eyelids fluttered, attention fractured between the agony in your leg and the boom of shots being exchanged across the new battlefield.
“Almost there,” Fernando muttered again. Two more shots - one from the other side, one from him. And then the two of you stumbled into the interior of the Pelican and he slammed the button to close the ramp.
You fell to the floor with a high whine, panting through the pain. Logically, you knew this was bad. It certainly felt bad.
“Joy, I need help here!” Fernando hit the floor next to you, hands hovering over you. “Oh shit. That’s a lot of blood.”
“Press down,” you wheezed, pushing up on your hands to sit up. “Need the rags.”
“You need biofoam,” Fernando objected, shaking his head, eyes wide.
“No.” The vehemence in your own voice surprised you. “Save it. Only have two.” You took a deep breath, fighting through the pain and the shock. You’d never been shot before. It hurt, a lot more than you thought. “Medical crate.”
Fernando grabbed the crate and dragged it over, throwing the lid somewhere. He grabbed one of the biofoam canisters and you slapped his hand away.
“Not for me,” you insisted, shaking. “Rags, under the exit wound. On top. Press hard.”
“You need–”
“Listen to me.” You grabbed his hand with your blood-slicked one, holding hard. “Stop the bleeding. No biofoam. Not for me. Too precious.”
“Joy, where the hell is my backup?” Fernando yelled, freeing his hand to put the biofoam injector down and grab bandages. He packed a few under your thigh, under the exit wound, and you keened when he had to move you.
“On their way back,” Joy finally answered, sounding about as stressed as you had ever heard.
“Press hard,” you reminded Fernando, taking several fast breaths. He pressed hard and you stuffed your wrist into your mouth to muffle your shriek.
“This is not good,” Joy said. “You’re losing blood fast.”
“Just let me use the biofoam,” Fernando practically begged, though he didn’t let up on the pressure.
“Steady pressure,” you reiterated. “It will stop.” You laid back, starting to feel woozy. “I haven’t bled out yet. Probably not an artery.”
“You are insane,” Fernando snapped. “Fucking insane.” But his hands didn’t let up at all. “Can’t I use some of that powder stuff?”
You shook your head, clenching your hands into fists. “Too deep,” you murmured. “Won’t help. Pressure.”
“Yes, keep pressure, stop the bleeding, I got it.” Fernando was sounding even more freaked out though. “You’re not passing out, are you?”
“Not yet.” You hissed out a breath as he leaned harder on your thigh. “You’re doing great.”
“Do not tell me I’m doing great while you’re refusing the best treatment, you–” He broke off to swear in Spanish.
“It’s fine,” you assured him, closing your eyes. “We’ll worry about stitches later.”
“Stitches?!” His voice climbed at least an octave on the word.
“You’ll do great.” You opened your eyes again, feeling a little blurry. “We can risk some of the… the tea.”
“What’s the risk?” Fernando didn’t move yet, watching you like a hawk.
“Need to stay awake,” you mumbled. “Just hand me one.”
He hissed out another slew of curses but shifted his weight to one hand, pressing down hard enough that you whined. His free hand grabbed a vial of the tea and handed it to you, blood smeared all over the vial. It was a struggle to sit up enough to drink some and not just slosh it all over yourself, but you managed.
More shots fired outside caught both your attention and Fernando scrambled for the gun.
“It’s Blue Team,” Joy was quick to say as the ramp started to lower. “I’m letting them in.”
“Thank fuck.” Fernando dropped the gun again, refocusing on you.
Chief was the first one in, dropping to his knees next to you. “Status,” he demanded.
“Through and through shot,” you gasped, hands curling weakly. “Didn’t hit an artery, would’ve bled out already. Fernando is doing a great job applying pressure. Next is…” You licked your lips and drew in a deep breath. “Next is stitches.”
“Use the biofoam.”
“Don’t you dare.” You lifted your head to glare at John. “We only have two.”
“Base has more.” He grabbed one of the canisters.
“We can’t make more of those,” you argued, trying to push up onto your hands to argue. Kelly knelt behind you, firm hands on your shoulders keeping you down. “They’re valuable.”
“So are you.” John moved Fernando’s hands and injected the biofoam into the wound. You slammed a fist into the floor, both from the pain and frustration.
“John–” you started before your leg twitched reflexively and you sort of whited out, a little.
“Isn’t that stuff supposed to be numbing?” Fernando asked anxiously, still hovering next to you.
“It takes a minute,” Kelly said, voice cool and calm. “The bleeding is already slowing.”
“They were using an MA40,” Fred reported as he and Linda clomped up the ramp onto the Pelican. “A few stragglers.”
“So just shitty luck,” you wheezed, trying to focus on anything but how much your leg hurt, which really only emphasized how much your leg hurt.
“We’re going back to base.” John dropped the empty canister to the side and started clearing away the bloody rags. You lifted your head to watch and swallowed. That was a lot of blood that was outside your body.
“Fluids,” you muttered, almost by rote. “And rest.”
“An excellent prescription,” Kelly agreed smoothly. “One that perhaps you’ll follow.”
“She will.” Fernando scowled at you, although you could see the fear behind the anger.
You waved a hand limply and let your head thunk back against the floor. “Fine. Couple days off it should be enough.”
A big hand caught one of yours, holding you gently, like you were delicate. To a Spartan, you kind of were, actually. A quiet conversation took place over your head about moving you to a seat versus leaving you on the floor. You voted for just staying on the floor.
Apparently someone was still listening to your muttering, because John sat behind you to brace you, letting you lean back against his chest while Linda brought you water. Fernando stood outside long enough to wash off his hands before he stomped into the cockpit and shut the doors.
You did feel a bit bad about that.
As the adrenaline wore off and the biofoam did its job, you found yourself leaning harder back against John. He was the only thing keeping you upright, really.
“We will have a talk about this,” he rumbled in your ear, and, oh, that was his normal voice. Unmodulated. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. You managed to look in his direction, blinking slowly. He was stubbly, just a little. Idly, you wondered how that would feel under your hands.
“We will?” You finally got your mouth connected to your brain again.
“Yes.” His jaw clenched for a moment, and you watched the play of muscles under his stubble with absolute fascination. “When you’re lucid.”
“‘M lucid.” You blinked again sluggishly. It was work to peel your eyes back open.
“Rest for now.” One hand landed on your hip, helping to anchor you in place as the engines whirred to life and the Pelican lifted off.
You grumbled a little. Time blurred. It took much too long between blinks. You felt the Pelican in motion, then landing. Then the clamor of voices, hard armor under you, sudden pain in your thigh as you were lifted.
Then dim lights and something more or less soft under you. You slowly pushed yourself upright, hissing softly at the residual ache in your thigh.
“You should be laying down.”
You blinked at John, wondering briefly how you’d missed him. He was a hulking mass in the corner, dressed down in a slightly too tight shirt and pants. “What time ‘s’it?”
“0200, approximately.” He shrugged.
“Why are you still up.” You lifted one hand to rub your eyes, wrinkling your nose at how dry you still felt.
John was quiet for a few long moments, long enough that you refocused on him. “I needed to keep watch.”
You almost very stupidly blurted out that you were in camp, why would he need to keep watch? Then you realized. He meant you. Keep watch over you. It was his way of admitting he’d stayed up to make sure you were okay.
Warmth bloomed in your chest and you smiled, despite yourself. “I’m not dying,” you murmured.
“Not tonight.” His lips pressed together, briefly distracting you. “You could have.”
You sighed. “It was a logical choice,” you murmured, shifting your weight very carefully on the bed and letting your hands fall to your lap. “Biofoam is not something we can manufacture or replace here, whereas rags and pain tea are readily available.”
“It’s not the call you would have made if one of us was shot. If Fernando was shot.”
You hesitated, because you knew he was right. If Fernando had been shot, or John or the others… You would have used the biofoam. Without question. You sighed, shoulders drooping, sinking in on yourself. “You’re right.”
“So why?” He finally stepped closer, his arms dropping to his sides.
You frowned, struggling with the words for several long moments before you sighed. “You’re critical,” you finally admitted, gaze down. “Fernando is your pilot, you need him. Blue Team are all irreplaceable.” You swallowed hard. “I’m just a medic.”
“And that makes you more replaceable.” He knelt slowly next to the bed so he could catch your gaze.
“Yes.” You closed your eyes, breathing slowly. “I’ve made some hard calls since we’ve all been stuck here. Sometimes that means someone dies. Sometimes it means just a lot of pain and a slower recovery.” You finally looked at him, throat tight. “I’d rather have the supplies for you, in case you need them. Any of you.”
John was quiet for several long moments, giving you time to calm down again. “Your reasoning is flawed,” is what he finally said.
“What?” You blinked at him, running through your argument in your mind again.
“You’re critical, as well.” He leaned in slowly, carefully, only getting close without touching, until he was mostly all you could see. “You’re not just a medic. You’re not replaceable.”
“John?” You licked your lips, eyes wide, focused entirely on him.
“I’m not good at this,” he muttered. One hand very slowly closed over yours, sending your pulse racing somehow even faster.
“Neither am I,” you admitted, barely even daring to breathe. “Don’t tease me. What do you mean?”
John blew out a slow breath, the only outward sign of his nerves. “You are… special. To me.” His fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours. “I would like to… have more. With you.”
“Like a relationship?” You couldn’t keep the hope out of your voice if someone had paid you.
“Yes.” He swallowed, holding very still. Waiting for you to decide.
“I would very much like that.” You smiled, shy and pleased and overwhelmed. “Can I kiss you, John?”
He considered the question for a moment before he nodded, just slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”
You freed one hand to cup his jaw - his stubble was a delightful little rasp under your fingers, and you smiled. Slowly, giving him a chance to stop you or pull away, you leaned in, until you could press your lips to his in a chaste kiss.
Your eyes fluttered open again to find the tiniest of smiles on his lips. “How was that?” you asked softly, unwilling to risk this new thing between you.
“Acceptable.” He paused. “Further research will need to be conducted.”
“Of course.” You tamped down on your own grin… mostly. More or less. It was entirely gone when he took the initiative to kiss you again.
You could have quite happily gotten distracted with kissing him for the rest of the night, except that pain flared in your thigh, reminding you that yes you had gotten shot a matter of hours ago. At your grimace, John frowned a little and started pushing you back to lay down.
“You need more rest.”
“So do you,” you muttered. “Please get some sleep tonight.”
“I will.” John leaned down to press a very careful kiss to your forehead. “Good night.”
“Night.” You watched with your heart in your eyes as John rose, as fluidly as if aging wasn’t a thing that existed to him, and left the room.
Your dreams were surprisingly pleasant, for once.
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My Petty on-going war with a "guest"
My Petty on-going war with a guest/non-paying customer continues! So a while back I posted part one of the story, here's the link. https://www.tumblr.com/fuck-customers/696750060212535297/would-it-be-too-petty?source=share If you don't feel like clicking, here's a quick summary. I asked you all if it would be too Petty if I locked up a product a rude non-paying guest comes in to scan into an app. Woman treats all staff like garbage and her visits count against us when our transactions versus guests who walk in is calculated potentially affecting our hourly budget. A number of times we've been concerned about her stealing, especially when staff is helping a customer towards the back of the store. We'll just hear the door open, no acknowledgement of our greeting, product shuffling around, and boom shes out the door before anyone and approach her.
The response to part one was unanimous, be Petty! and let me tell you friends, I locked that shit up and I felt amazing when this woman came in for the very first time and didn't know what to do. I heard her tapping on the lock box but since she refused speaking to staff she was left in a bind (I caught her by surprise outside the door once at opening, she can speak and theres no language barrier). I watched her wander around the store for a minute before exiting. Meanwhile the guests I was ringing up got great service and save lots of money.
Weeks later she showed up again, she figured out that she was able to scan the barcode on the price tags and get what she wanted that way. Ok. The thing is I am not one to be outdone and I was winning this Petty War. I have a fine tip pen and drafting tools at home so I filled in those price tags very subtly. I guess I decided I wanted to waste her time, I know it would have been much simpler to just blatantly black out the barcodes with a sharpie in an obvious a f-u move. We don't scan the barcodes for any store operation reasons so no harm there.
Unfortunately the very first time she came in after I had done this I was in the restroom so I had to get the story secondhand from a trainee who describe this guest as "aggressively ignoring her." The woman spent a couple of minutes trying to scan the barcodes, she even had two phones on hand! but had no luck. Shocker. After a couple of months I took the items out of the lock box, satisfied that I had won the war in pettiness. That was months ago.
But then this past weekend guess who came in? Her daughter and I had a great conversation while mom aggressively ignored me. It was fine! I debated telling her flat out that next time she came in those items were going to be locked up again but I decided against it, let her waste her time if she has so much that she's driving around from business to business scanning product in and never buying anything (also women's holding a phone I don't want to get recorded).
Before the end of the day I locked them up again. And I waited, hoping that she would come in when I was working & I wasn't disappointed! But I was at the very back end of the store when she did arrive. So I saw her doing a "are you kidding me gesture?" with her arms when she saw that it was locked up again. She spent a couple minutes trying to scan the bar codes and I thought she had no luck... but then she comes in the very next day so this time I watch her closely. There was one bar code I may not have tampered with enough, or maybe she thought maybe things would go back to normal right away. Anyhow, I say fuck it, I grabbed my white out stick run it through every barcode, I white out the UPC number and strategically placed some white out through the items name so that can't be scanned. Until next time lady! Please know the bar is so low all you had to do was not be rude and I wouldn't have given a shit!!!
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The Villainess, AKA: Cherrypie
author’s note: this wonderful fic idea was a collaboration effort including myself and @marwhoa (go check them out, lovely page even lovelier person) 20 min rounds of writing back and forth and boom!! I couldn’t be happier with the outcome and I hope you guys enjoy~~
warnings: rise!raph x villain!reader , established relationship , fluff , angst , cliffhanger
prequel one → 〔 you’re here 〕
There was a friendly hum in the air as Raph stood in the mirror and tried on outfits for his special day! Upon his suit’s collar was a chained pin. A ruby gem shimmered on the left side, twinkling with a mystic charm. Emerald green hues gazed back at Raph, soaking up the humanoid figure he had once more with a nervous—but excited!— exhale. Today would be one more of the many dates he went on with a special girl he met topside, and hopefully he could make it the most memorable date yet! After all, this gentleman might have had a nice little itinerary tucked away in his suit’s pocket.
Today’s plan was to meet up right outside of a ball that his dearest friend, April’s college was hosting! April and Y/n would be there, and Raph was Y/n’s choice as her plus-one. Thoughts of dancing across the floor with Y/n’s smaller hand in his, her dazzling smile flashing brightly as he whirled them to and fro! Gosh, just imagining it now had his feet thumping rhythmically upon the floor. Alright, one last tug of your cute tie and you’re ready to go out! His back turned to the mirror, eyes fixating on the doorway. Don’t worry, big dog, you’ve got this.
。・゜・( pov change: y/n )・゜・。
Elsewhere, a dolled-up Y/n paced across the linoleum with her heels clicking intimidatingly.
“They really think I was joking? Do they? Am I a joke to them?” Some particular floor plans and interventions had not gone too well—it was as if nobody truly wanted to escape the Hidden City and go topside! Had so much time passed that everyone was complacent with being moles, deep under ground, without a single sight of the moon big in the sky at night? Had they all become completely okay with never seeing the sun again? Y/n took—no, snatched!— a towel from its position on the wall and grit her teeth while trying to rub clean the irritation vivid upon her features. Her eyes glared at the reflection in the mirror, but just for a second as they then trailed down to the form-fitting ruby dress that draped her body. It was much too flattering, causing a blush to dust Y/n’s features and her nervous habit of spinning the wooden ring upon her ring finger—the signature ring banded with an arcanic red crystal that was poured into it.—to kick in. There was a heavy inhale as the thought of today's date resurfaced. She was going to be seeing him again today, her dearest Raph.
“Oh, please like my dress…” Y/n whispered, turning and posing to check all the angles. It was deserving of a gentle silence, the dress. As you soaked in the you in the mirror, so many thoughts whisked past. That’s me? I’m so beautiful. Will he be just as impressed? I could stare at myself forever.
There was a shy warmth whirling in your chest, so much so that the previous thoughts in your mind had been subsided. The operation had been all but forgotten from your mind, cleared by the thoughts of how tonight would go. You were in love with how you looked right now. Not a doubt in your mind, you were truly gorgeous for tonight’s date to the ball. Had your past self said, “Hey, you’ll be attending the ball with the kindest man ever,“ then surely you would have called her a liar, but here you were.
Y/n, otherwise infamously known as Cherrypie to both witches and humans alike for her fiery villainous deeds, dressed in a shimmery red dress with a split up the thighs, accentuating all the best parts. For a second, you felt less like a villain in disguise and more like a regular girl ready for her date. But…
Would anyone blame you if that’s what you truly wanted? Y/n bit her lip, trying to imagine for a second that she was exactly that—just a regular girl getting ready for her regular date. There was a bittersweet smile that subsided just as a ding came from her phone—Raphael!
。・゜・( pov change: raph )・゜・。
Raph had entered the building, slipping his phone back into his pants pocket. He was taking in the crowd that was before him as he took tentative steps forward. He blew out a breath, eyes scanning for the most beautiful girl in the world. He had messaged you to let you know he arrived, but sadly his searching was to no avail. He did spot April though!
He made a beeline for the only other person he knew there. Raph couldn’t lie, he was definitely nervous. He’d never been to a fancy ball before, the only other time he had dressed up in black tie attire was for the magic show that Leo had begged them all to attend. His brothers weren’t here this time, but his nerves subsided as April turned recognizing Raph’s green eyes.
“Look at you!! I’m so happy you could make it!” April was all smiles, giving Raph a crushing hug. “You haven’t seen Y/n yet have you?” Her eyebrows waggled with a promising look and Raph shook his head, looking around as if you would suddenly appear since your name had been said. No luck! “Do you know where she is?” Raph asked, a small smile forming on his face as he looked back down to April. “I don’t but you’re in for a treat, she’s wearing your favorite color,” April winked and Raph’s imagination went wild.
You were wearing red? He felt his cheeks flush, head whipping back and forth now honing in on all the different dresses that showcased hues of his favorite color. He was disappointed, huffing slightly at the fact that he still hadn’t spotted you. April couldn’t help but laugh at him. April loved how smitten Raph was, and April knew you felt the same way. She was so happy for the two of you. It warmed her heart to see Raph so happy, he deserved it. So she decided to help out, looking around the crowd wondering where you had wandered off to.
Maybe it was just pure luck, but it only took a few seconds, and April tapped on Raph’s arm. He immediately looked down to see April pointing to her left. His eyes followed, and he sucked in his breath. It was as if the crowd parted and he could see you, walking towards him. Stealing his breath away. You were drop dead gorgeous. Hair swishing back and forth in slow motion as if the world revolved around you. “Breathe Raph,” April teased, elbowing him in the side. His cheeks burned as he took in deep breaths.
。・゜・( pov change: both )・゜・。
Y/n held her phone in her hand, checking it over and over again while waiting for Raph to arrive. She had seen April already and received the most dramatic positive response for her attire EVER. All the whistles and shouts as her friend took photos from every angle had left you fidgeting embarrassedly. She hadn’t seen Raph yet either, so you settled for roaming the floor in hopes that fate would bring you both together!
And, as luck would have it, you both did encounter each other after only a few minutes of search. The sensation of a burning gaze on you had your attention. Turning on your heel quickly, your eyes locked with the warmest emerald pools ever, of which were currently taking in your silhouette in its entirety. In your chest, your heart was performing somersaults and leaving you out of breath. Why, he did dress up nicely. The suit just seemed so right on him!
From your pocket (after all, what witch-villain wears a pocketless dress?), you pull a small square matching your dress and tick-tack-tick’d on up to your love. “Raphie, you made it—eek!”Once Y/n was close enough, Raph wasted no time in scooping her up and giving an affectionate twirl.
“I gotta be dreaming, there’s no way the world’s prettiest Angel is smiling at me right now.” He gave a toothy grin, his signature snaggletooth pressing upon his bottom lip in that captivating way it always did. You melted as his hand brushed strands of hair from your face carefully. He leaned in, planting a satisfying kiss upon your forehead before pulling back to see what the handkerchief you held was for.
“This, this is to show we’re a pair!” Y/n cooed as her hands pushed it into his suit’s chest-pocket, smoothing it out neatly. Her hand patted it, lingering on his broad chest for some seconds until his bashful throat-clearing had stirred her out of the trance.
“Um, right, I hope you don’t mind that I planned out the night for us. Af-After being together so long , I was… I…” His train of thought seemed to leave without him as his gaze fixated on your dress. You could’ve sworn tears welled up in his eyes as his hands reached to rest on your hips, rubbing slow circles against the fabric. One of his hands lifted to take your hand, lacing together your fingers. He had noticed that even dressed as you were—fancy for a ball—there was still that special wooden ring sitting snug upon your dominant hand’s ring finger. It’s red band glimmered in the light just as your dress did, causing his gaze to just soften with all the love in the world. “Sorry, red just looks… breathtaking on you, Y/n.”
As the lights were dimming and music was beginning to play, Raph’s attention was brought to the couples forming on the floor’s center. His hold on your hips tightened snuggly as his eyes returned to yours.
“Raph…?” You breathed out, captivated in his burning gaze.
“Can I have this dance?” His hand rose, its open palm extended as a comfortable place for your smaller hand. Not wanting to miss a single second with him, you were eager to oblige. Your hand slid into his as you both joined the floor with almost literal hearts bobbing within your irises, pure love as the two of you swam through the sea of dancers, rocking with the flow almost as if it were second nature.
Y/n wasn’t some villain from the Hidden City and Raph wasn’t some mutant ninja from the sewers. For now, the two of you were the most ordinary couple swaying across the ballroom door with sweeping steps that almost traced hearts with each pat of a toe-tip. A shared welling-up in each other's chests, identical breath-holding, and just the same amount of tears glowing your eyes. Raph and Y/n were in perfect harmony, almost the stars of the dance so far as others would catch sight of your mesmerizing dance.
It would have continued being the most romantic song ever played by two bodies, had the record not been scratched by a distant explosion. Easily overlooked, if not for the second that followed. Then a third, fourth—hell, even a fifth. All inching closer and closer. In that moment, both your hearts plummeted in your chests, but for different reasons. Raph, fearing what those sounds meant for your safety, and you, fearing for having even dared try to pretend you were anyone other than Cherrypie, the villain to bring this city to its knees. Tonight’s attack had completely slipped your mind.
The last explosion rumbled the entire building and Raph’s hold on your hips moved to encase your whole body. Pulling you right to his chest, ready for if the entire room collapsed, he’d protect you. This was bad, Raph thought, he didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he needed to get you to safety and then he could figure out the rest. He was a hero after all.
“Y/n” the reverie of the dance and music was broken. Screaming started to sound around them as bodies were rushing this way and that, to get out of the building. Running towards the various exit signs in the room. “I need you to run and get to safety, find April and stick together.” His tone was serious and authoritative, his arms holding you at arms length to look into your eyes before squeezing your arms and letting go.
“Raphael! Where do you think you're going?!” Your hand shot out as soon as he turned to leave. In your mind, he was just a human. The safest place for him would be at your side, even if you were the villain of this story. Even though the surrounding explosions were your doing, you didn’t want Raph to get hurt.
“I’ve gotta go help baby! What if someone was caught in those explosions? I’m sure they are scared, no need to worry about me,” He gave you a rugged smile, sounding confident. So when your hand slipped away from his arm, watching as he ran to the front doors, leaving the ballroom, heading for the chaos that was ensuing outside, you knew you had to get back to business. After a few moments of cornering your resolve you booked it to the back doors. Pushing them open and immediately found yourself swarmed by the scent of smoke.
“Ready or not New York, here comes Cherrypie.” You mumbled a spell under your breath, your dazzling dress disappearing. As your dress vanished, it was replaced with a maroon wide brim hat, polished off with a green ribbon with long tails that would whisk through the hair behind you. Your clothes became green bell-bottom pants, flaring out to frame smooth red Mary Jane’s that made a familiarly intimidating click-clack with each step. Red magic crackled at your eyes as they embraced a deeper green hue. A sinister smirk found its rightful place upon your lips as the magic placed a finishing touch of a red blouse with a deep v-neck and flounce sleeves.
The wind danced through you, Cherrypie, swaying your clothes in an all-too perfect way. The crackling red magic enveloped your body, snapping to make your stature disappear and reappear at the scene of the explosion, right upon an elevated surface—just for that extra bit of power imbalanced in your favor. “Now, now, people of New York!” Your voice boomed, amplified by magic as your hat’s brim hid your eyes and only revealed the villainous smile you held.
“You couldn’t have possibly expected I was gone, could you? No, no, never would I have gone without such a flamboyant exit. And say, what would be the best of exits than a series of explosions to leave you all trembling at my feet?”With their spiel, Y/n found themselves working far too hard to feel the strength, the power—the fear-striking twinge. It had been a thought on the back of their head, especially since meeting Raph. A thought of, “ hey, what if we /were/ a normal resident? someone better, not villainous? “
Their smirk faltered at a passing memory, one of their younger self. See, you hadn’t always wanted to be a villain. Once upon a time you dreamt of being the hero of the topside. You dreamt of being someone that the people were so happy to see, someone they cheered for. You dreamt of being the person that struck hope in everyone, not fear.
But, you know what they say about villains. A villain is simply a hero that everyone failed. And the first to fail you was your own mother, ingraining her hatred for the humans and their having sent everyone underground, all into you. You became her conduit for revenge, and had long since accepted that as your fate. You just weren’t meant to be a hero, right? Especially not with the magic you had. You were just a tragic villain, simple as that.
But when you met Raph? Why, he awoke something within. He had made you remember what it felt like to be the reason for someone’s smile, for their happiness. He reminded you how much you longed to be good. For a second, you almost thought… maybe… Could you—
“Swooping in LIKE A BOSS!”
Y/n lifted her head to see a surge of red magic crackling towards them, forming a humanoid—no, turtle-like?— figure. Their fist was focused right towards them. Bracing themselves for the sudden impact, Cherrypie tried to hold her ground against the force but found themselves toppling over, plunging downwards. Thankfully, she was rescued by her magic softening the fall, but still she rolled across the ground.
“What the—?”
You looked up from where you had fallen, dazed and confused by just what hit you—or, WHO, dared to hit you. Standing on thé edge above you was the large frame of what seemed to be a … turtle? Is that a turtle yokai? No, you didn’t recognize their magic signature, it seemed something more… mutated?
“A mutant? But you seem different from the others…” Muttered Y/n under her breath before reflexively rolling out of the way of the second punch coming straight down as the red-banded mutant pursued her once again. It was almost as if this one hadn’t been a human originally—or even mutated recently. Almost like he was… born from it? Born as a mutant?
“Whoa! What’s with you?! We’re on the same team—against the humans!” There was a pang in your chest as that last part slipped your lips, just as a thought crossed your mind, “ but raphael's a human, too. “ For a second, you found your balance to be put off a bit as you narrowly dodged the tonfas lunging towards you.
“Against humans? No, I PROTECT the humans, against villains like you.” Raph jabbed a single tonfa in your direction, pointing accusingly with black eyes glaring daggers at you.
You almost felt like those eyes were familiar, but just on the tip of your tongue. Shaking that away, Y/n flicked her fingers to envelope them in her signature magic. Eating away at her was a quiet little voice in the back of her head, going, “ hey, his magic is kind of like ours. red, fiery—looks and feels destructive.. but, he’s a hero! `` Your eyes looked at your magic simmering, just a second’s look. “ maybe we can still be a hero, don’t you think? “
That voice… Y/n shook their head and let out a frustrated yell before lunging towards the mutant.
For a big fellow he sure was fast. With each swipe you made striking out violently, your magic resembled streaks of red lightning as they crackled around you both. But the mutant dodged each, and thus a dance began. While you tried to maintain the offensive, the turtle would gain enough momentum with each of your misses and parry back with his own weapons.
The fight was destructive too, each missed strike would ricochet off into a nearby building or car—resonating a loud crack of lightning around the two of you. Y/N gritted her teeth, growing tired of the endless dodging,
“You’re good, I’ll give you that, turtle, but you are no match for me.” Your eyes shone brighter as you called forth a powerful surge of your magic. It would take a lot out of you, but you needed to end this fight quickly. The longer it went on, the more favor swept to his side.
“I am sorry it has to end this way,” your tone teasing and condescending. As if your victory was all but assured now. The mutant watched as you powered up, his own stance becoming one of defense, his body turning into red and the red version of himself growing in size. But just at the last second, as if he had suddenly changed his mind, he lunged forward attacking you.
Your eyes widened as his massive figure barreled towards you at a speed that shouldn’t be possible. You yelled, throwing all the power that you had accumulated, though premature. Your magic burst from your hands—sparks, lightning, and flames alike shooting out in madness. You had your target locked in and just as the first met the mutant's skin, he apparated.
“NO!” Y/n screamed as the mutant disappeared from her line of fire. Most of the magic colliding into a university building, demolishing it entirely. You were seething, breathing heavily as the power drain hit you like a truck. It would take time for your magic to recuperate. You had to get out of there, not wanting to retreat but not wanting to get caught in such circumstances!
“You’re not so bad yourself,” A deep voice rumbled from behind you. And you cursed under your breath. Already feeling one of his weapons graze the back of your neck. “Don’t you even think about movin'.” He warned and you rolled your eyes, it would be so easy to get away, if only you had enough magic to do so. Why had you used so much?! Was it the anger? Was it because of your past? Because your head wasn’t in the game?
With your magic starting to dwindle and cave in on itself, your disguise was starting to fall with it. Raph had swept your feet during this, watching you fall and moving to press his leg just enough against you that you were unable to escape. There was a fear bubbling under the surface as you watched your clothes slowly fizzle and fade, gradually revealing the human “you” underneath it.
Raph’s expression contorted into one of an emotion you couldn’t recognize, though a nagging voice clawed its way through your mind, saying it was pity. You had lost, and he must have been all too aware of that! He would finish you off—or worse, throw you to the humans to determine your fate. Here would be where Cherrypie ended, right at the peak of her villainy. It would be here that your mother’s disappointment would fester. Would she even retrieve you or leave you behind, turning to someone else to train into her vessel of revenge?
Those thoughts never met their end, instead vanishing as his leg loosened on you. “Wha-?”
Y/n breathed out in confusion, barely able to raise her voice as Raph’s lips tugged downwards in what might have been a pained frown. He swiped his arm, pointing away. “Get out of here.”
“What?”
“GO!” He roared, enough that it shook you to your core. Away you went, not wasting a chance to return to the Hidden City. Your heels clicked on the ground as tears welled up in your eyes. Were you afraid? Sad? Relieved? Whatever it was, no matter how badly your legs wished you would stop running, no matter how your throat stung, you never stopped running until you got back.
As Y/N ran, her ruby-red dress flowing in the wind, glimmering as the moon’s light illuminated its glittery fabric, Raph watched with heartbroken disbelief. Upon the hand that shakily held out as if to be a puny boundary, protecting the villain from the hero, shaky black eyes rested upon a painstakingly familiar wooden ring around their hand. A suspicion rose in his head, and before it could ever be denied, the villain’s disguise dropped and revealed the worst plot-twist of this hero’s life.
The twisting in his chest, the clawing in his throat, and the stinging in his eyes as tears welled up. He didn’t know how to feel. For the first time in a long time, since Shredder, the Kraang, or Big Mama, Raphael Hamato was left out of breath and without a plan.
An unknown amount of time passed as he stood there, Y/n long since vanishing in the distance. All that was left in the air now was distant cries, shouts, and alarms from cars and buildings alike. That, and a sheet of paper that was stuck under a rock, fluttering violently in the wind. Raph stared at it for a few seconds before wiping his tears and reaching down to pick it up.
Raph & Y/N’s Date!
* Ballroom dancing! (make sure to practice your moves once more. It has to knock her socks off!)
* Walk to Star’s Pointe at the park (there are shooting stars tonight, and we know Y/N would love them.)
* Listen to the Bellman Fairy’s performance (they’re doing an impromptu concert at the same park at midnight! It’s Y/N’s favorite band, I don’t think even she knows it’s happening!)
* Finish the night off with Lou, Mike Tony, Tony's Pizzeria (We always told her we’d take her to my new favorite pizza place. Hopefully she doesn’t question DIGG.)
* Optional: Maybe walk her home and give her a kiss..
The paper ended up crumpled in the red-banded turtle’s hands as he turned on his heel and slid into the shadows, heading home after such a night. Later, he would receive a message from Y/n
NOTIFICATION
You have seven new messages!
♡︎ Y/N L/N 11m ago
Raphie! Are you okay? Did you get home okay? I was so worried about you the entire time.
♡︎ Y/N L/N 10m ago
Raph?
♡︎ Y/N L/N 10m ago
Please tell me you’re okay…
♡︎ Y/N L/N 5m ago
I…
♡︎ Y/N L/N 5m ago
Can I tell you something?
♡︎ Y/N L/N sent now
Never mind that last message.
♡︎ Y/N L/N sent now
Please be safe..
#rise raph x reader#rise raph x y/n#raph x y/n#raph x reader#rottmnt raph x reader#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt fandom#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#turtle bros#raph#raphael hamato#rise raphael#tmnt raphael#raphael#fan fic#collaborative#collaboration#writing collab#writing#rise tmnt oneshot#rottmnt oneshot#tmnt oneshot#oneshot#rottmnt x reader
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let’s get some discussion, i wanna know how y’all feeling on some shit post the bear season two
feel free to respond to all of them or none of them! just vibe and answer to urself if you want lol
spoilers below ofc
how we feeling about claire and carmy?? personally… not a fan. simply cause i’m a carmy x syd fan, but for those of you who aren’t how are y’all liking this romantic aspect being placed in carmy’s life??
syd x marcus?? possibly?? maybe?? personally, i don’t see it, but hey! i didn’t see syd x carmy at first either, so. how are we feeling about this little awkward intro of a maybe at them
i’m kinda upset we didn’t get more of ebra and tina in culinary school! i wish we could’ve seen ebra overcome his fears and persevere through school, but i’m also glad he found his place in the kitchen in the end
also SUPER excited to see my girl tina thriving in the kitchen!! she’s really stepping up and falling into her potential, and her confidence in her abilities is growing exponentially. love to see women winning
speaking of thriving, richie!! making something of himself, finding his purpose! his episode was definitely my favorite, not even gonna lie. loved his finding something to be happy about and realize he’s good at managing. slowly climbing my ranks of fav characters
once again, beautiful segue, on the topic of fav characters, syd the kid!! so happy to see her pushing forward in the face of SOMEONES absence, but also so terrified of what this new responsibility will do to her in the long run. kinda really mad at carm rn for pushing off onto her while simultaneously getting mad at her for handling shit?? idk… i felt really hopeful in the beginning cause they were talking about themselves and working on the menu together, then BOOM! claire 😒. how we feeling on the state of syd and carm rn??
SUGAR!!! OH SUGAR I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART. i love how much of sugar we get this season, she’s so… everything. and i think that’s the problem will simultaneously being the solution? she’s always there to help, but she’s always there to help, yk? it can back fire on her and leave her seeming like the bad guy in some cases which really sucks, like in the ep with the family christmas, she just wanted to be a safe space but that ended up being the worst thing in the end. yet with the restaurant, i’m fairly confident they wouldn’t have gotten half the shit they got done had sugar been absent. how y’all feel about sugars involvement in this season??
speaking of the christmas ep, LOVED the chaos and just complete understanding of the ep, and by understanding i mean why carm and sugar are the way they are and why they thrive in the environment they thrive in. it’s what they know, they know how to operate in mayhem. it’s also terrifying that’s the best they’re in.
vv worried about carm and his belief that he doesn’t need and/or deserve happiness and entertainment. as PISSED as i am at him, he’s so much more than that i believe, and i wish we could get this man into some one on one therapy, IMMEDIATELY.
that’s all i got rn cause i’m sleepy as hell and i need to shower. don’t be afraid! pls respond i need conversation lol
#damn this doesn’t even cover half of the shit that went down this season#i’m very happy about this season and i’ll probably be rewatching it tomorrow lol#it made me mad for sure#but i think that’s what makes it so good#i feel so many emotions towards it#the bear hulu#sugar the bear#natalie the bear#syd adamu#sydney adamu#syd the bear#sydney the bear#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#carmy x sydney#carmy x syd#carmy and sydney#carmy the bear#tina the bear#ebra the bear#marcus the bear#discussion post
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Ghost Busters
A prompt from user Kelly on ao3
Edit: I didn't originally mean for this to get spooky, but it did. Maybe reconsider reading this at night if you get easily spooked
***
Desan looked over the calendar. Booked out for another two moors. Wow. She really thought clients would have started going elsewhere once they found out the wait was more than a decacycle or two. They must be getting desperate.
The comm lines rang again. It seemed like they rang more often than they were quiet lately. Desan eyed the calendar again before she picked up the call.
“Hello, AIM Inspections, Desan speaking, how many I help you today?”
“Hi, I was told you offer haunting inspections?” The voice on the other line sounded gruff and a little tired. “We’ve had a flarg of an attempt trying to hire lately and our crew’s numbers are starting to dwindle fast.”
Desan nodded, even though the caller obviously couldn’t see. Here we go with another one. “Yes, we offer supernatural analysis inspections. I must warn you now that we are booked out until mid-Corruse on the Burnti calendar.”
The caller sighed and hummed for a bit. “That’s not as soon as I’d like, but honestly, you’re the third place I’ve called and that’s the soonest I’ve heard. What do you need from me to get started?”
“Well,” Desan pulled up a form on her track tablet, “I’ve just got a few questions, get a bit of information, then I’ll send you a form fill and I’ll get you on the schedule. First off, to whom am I speaking, and may I ask what alerted you to the need for our services?”
“Riord Esh, operations manager for the Bantar outer fleet. And I'd say we were alerted the same way as most people, I’d wager,” the gruff voice drawled out. “Tried hiring some humans, but they claimed our ships were haunted. That's since spread around. No one wants to work on a ship where even humans are scared if you know what I mean."
"I do, yes that's been a pretty common problem we've been hearing."
"Have you been able to fix this? I mean for the ships you have done the inspections for?"
"Oh yes, we've got a 100% ghost-free guarantee. Now, if I can get a bit of info from you, I can go ahead and get you scheduled for mid-Corruse."
The rest of the call went smoothly. Before Desan hung up, she assured Riord Esh that, should another client cancel, they would be moved up in the queue, to which they were grateful.
And with that, another client on the long, long list.
Desan had helped out on some of the inspections, and with all the demand lately, would probably continue doing so. It was a bit of extra pay, so she certainly had no issue with the extra work. It also had the added benefit of being quite interesting.
For the vast majority of "haunted" ships, the supernatural inspections ran almost identically to normal ship inspections. It was funny how often "sudden cold spots" were just a simple draft, or feelings of paranoia or being watched turned out to be caused by a previously undetected gas leak. The initial inspectors would simply write up a report detailing fixes needed and boom. Suddenly the ship no longer has a hard time finding a crew to hire.
But there were exceptions. The kind of exceptions that really threw a rock into their otherwise simple business model.
Before this job, Desan did not consider herself to be superstitious in any way. She still adamantly claimed to not believe in ghosts and haunts and spookums. But even she had to second-guess her stance when some of her inspector coworkers came back from some of their more… problematic jobs.
There were things that just didn’t make sense. Unsettling things. Usually involving some unfortunate or tragic circumstance. They were the things that couldn’t be satisfyingly brushed off as hallucinations of over-worked or mourning brains.
One in the particular job still gave her shivers. She’d been asked to join an inspection tour on one of the largest ships their company has done to date. It was a new, fresh off the assembly line, Booletean Cruiser Class 6. The ship's sheer size meant more hands were needed for the inspection crew to get everything checked out. Even then it still took an entire day cycle just to get through everything. And what a day it was.
The ship, again, was new. It should have had no issues. However, upon checking some of the paperwork for its production, it turned out that only some of the parts were completely new.
There’d been a terrible crash a decacycle or two before. Another Booletean Cruiser Class 6 had crashed. The Bayjee Disaster. There were survivors, but far more lives were lost. It was a tragic accident, a perfect storm of circumstances mixed with just enough miscommunication that caused it all.
While sifting through the wreckage, it was discovered that some of the parts of the ship were still in good condition. After intense inspection and testing, they were eventually used in the construction of another Booletean Cruiser.
The very one Desan and her company had been hired to inspect.
They checked everywhere. There were no gas leaks to explain why crew members would feel paranoid or even panicked, insisting that they were not alone when no one else was there.
There was nothing wrong with the pipes in the boiler room, even though engineers insisted that they would hear unexplained banging and screeching metal near the end of their shifts. Always twenty mentiks before their shifts ended. It never mattered what time of the day cycle they were working, it was always twenty mentiks before the end of their shift.
From the investigation, it was widely claimed that the chain of events that led to the Bayjee crashing had taken about twenty mentiks to come to fruition.
But one of the worst aspects of the “haunted” ship was something Desan and her team hadn’t experienced with other ship inspections.
Several crew members, passengers, and even a few kloxan dignitaries had claimed that they had seen the Bayjee captain aboard their ship. They claimed they’d seen her face quite clearly. She never said anything, she never interacted with anyone, she’d just be there. And then she’d be gone like someone had flipped a switch and turned off some sort of ghostly projector.
There were official reports of these sightings, several in fact, most of which were made by otherwise level-headed individuals that would have nothing to gain by falsifying such reports.
They spent far longer on this inspection than they had on any other project. With other jobs starting to pile up in the meantime, a decision was ultimately made to remove the parts of the ship that were originally part of the Bayjee and replace them with identical parts fresh off the assembly line.
All reports of any “haunting” phenomena immediately stopped.
Desan decided to stick to her office post after that. She still claimed to be a skeptic of the claims of the supernatural, and in most cases, she was. Being so was now part of her line of work. But even she had to admit that in the vastness of space and within all the realms of possibility, there was much that was beyond her understanding.
The comm lines rang again, pulling her out of her musings. With a sigh, she stretched and eyed the very full calendar before answering the call. “Hello, AIM Inspections, Desan speaking, how many I help you today?”
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I just wanted to write some Frender fluff and then being cute...
Sum: Fry and Bender go on a rollercoaster, it being Benders first time being on one, turns out, the so called "macho" robot is actually a little scaredy cat
The robosexual couple was at Lunar Park. Bender putting a beer in the eye of the moon mascot again as he had tried to confiscate it once more. He laughed maniacally and intertwined his hand with the humans. Fry smiled and pecks the top of Benders visor lovingly.
Suddenly, Fry spots a new ride. A giant rollercoaster. Okay, how the hell did that work? Whatever. Logic doesn't matter.
"Bender! Let's ride that!", the human rocks on the heels of his feet like a child excited over getting candy. Bender sighs, "meatbag, I shouldn't go on rides, my parts might get stuck in the gears".
Fry does a puppy face and Bender rolls his eyes. The human does a victory cry and grabs the bots hand quickly, which surprises the bot in question, as he runs over to the thrill attraction. The human was about to go into the regular lane but Bender taps the idiots shoulder. Then, the bot grabs Fry by the back collar of his jacket and sneaks past the guard.
"Oh! You got us into the fast lane!", Fry says in realization and Bender rolls his eyes for the second time. Humans were idiots.
"Of course I did, meatbag, like hell am I going to wait in a five hour line!", the robot yells.
The redhead suddenly kisses him on his mouthplate, electricity sparking quite rapidly, as a sign of appreciation mixed with a lot of affection. In response, Bender could only grumble in embarrassment.
Finally, they make it to the area where you go on the ride. Bender could feel nervousness and fear rise in his circuits but refused to show it. Absolutely not. He's not scared one bit. The next car comes and the guests on pile off. Fry gets in first and then Bender. The human puts his own lap bar down and then sees Bender struggling with his own.
"Stupid...metal...bar!", the bot yells almost about to bend it until it broke. Fry pushes it down so it clicks into place on the little bots lap.
"Oh."
There was a moment of awkward silence before Bender mutters, "I knew that this whole time, I was just testing you". Fry giggles, he loves when Bender gets flustered cause it's a rare sight anyone gets to see. He was lucky enough to see it almost all the time with his boyfriend.
"For your safety, keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle, do not attempt to leave the cart at any time while the ride is operational"
The voice over the intercom spoke in a loud booming voice and then the two could hear a click. The car jerks slightly and then clanking can be heard. The ride now moving, turning on the rails and then going up on the lift hill.
Bender can feel his unneeded breath catch in his non-existent throat. Maybe he was a wuss despite how great he was. Fry seemed so excited for it, Bender takes a peek at the man and can't help but cringe when he sees how calm and collected a puny human is compared to himself.
They reach the top of the hill, the car now on flat path and they turn again. Bender can see the drop and his heart, if he had one, stopped instantly. "Fry...", he whimpered and the human looked at his robot with worry and concern. Then he figures it out.
Fry immediately clashes his hands with Benders while also holding onto the lap bar. "3......2......1", he helps count down which calms the bot for a mere second before they dropped.
The robot was screaming like a girl and clinging onto the human for dear life as the acceleration blew wind in their faces. Fry was laughing and smiling while Bender had wide optics and a frightened expression of horror.
"Weee!!!! Aaaaaaaa!!!!!", was heard from the human who the bot buried his faceplate into. Meanwhile, Bender was shrieking in a high pitched voice. He swore the people on the ground would assume the voice was coming from a female on the ride and not a manbot.
They do a couple loop-de-loops and then they drop once again, Bender screaming his head off. He was lucky enough he didn't pass out as he didn't have the system for it to happen. Finally they reached the end and the bot was trembling with a shocked face. Fry looks at the robot as they pulled to a stop behind another car full of people that were getting off the ride.
"I regret every choice I ever made for you, jerk.", Bender manages out and Fry smiles gently. The human kisses his metal boyfriend once again and the bot angrily mumbles before leaning in to signal he was kissing back. They pulled apart. "I still am upset with you asshole, now you gotta do something I like", the bending unit chuckles evilly and Fry knew it wasn't good intentions.
"Okay fine, but first", Fry says as he helps Bender off the ride after pulling his lap bar up. They then go to the exit area where a gift shop lay and then go up to the counter, scrolling through images until he finds the one. The redhead points at it, "this one please".
In the end, Fry was presumably, he actually was, injured. Bender had cash in his hand from wallets he stole and a cigar in his mouthplate that he was smoking. The redhead was carrying two boxes of popcorn, two fluffs of cotton candy and some "on the moon" accessories. "Worth it", Fry says with a smirk, pecking the bots metal cheek leaving Bender steaming.
"NOT IN FRONT OF EVERYONE, YOU IDIOT!", Bender screams at the human and Fry got the last laugh of the day as they head back to the Planet Express ship.
On Fry's wall, where he sits, was a photo with Bender hugging Fry like a damsel in distress, the human laughing and having fun while the bot holding onto the man was absolutely hating it.
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MACH 6 SOUND OF FREEDOM
During the Vietnam War, the word was out that the Vietnamese captured prisoners were being tortured. They were struggling to find a plan to rescue the POWs. Attempts to escape were met with beatings for the entire camp of prisoners of war if one person attempted to escape.
In May 1972, a new plan was installed telling the POWs that if they heard the sound of thunder that they were to escape and run down to the river where there would be Navy SEALs waiting to rescue them. There was disagreement among the inmates about whether to risk another escape. A senior POW convinced them it wasn’t right to make everyone in the camp suffer if they were captured during the flight. Without knowing that the POWs would not escape, the plan went forth.
The plan was for two SR-71 Blackbird spy planes to fly over the Hanoi Hilton.
The flight plan was to fly the SRs so close that their sonic booms would be only 30 seconds apart.
On May 2 and May 4, this happened. The rest of the story is from my father, Colonel Richard “Butch” Sheffield's unpublished book.
POW signal, May 2, 1972, SR-71 # 979, first of three aircraft. The first indication I had that we might fly a mission like this (where two SR-71s would crisscross over North Vietnam thirty seconds apart) was when one of the planners asked me at the OL( operation’s landing), “How close, in time, can you come over a point on the ground?” I told him, “As close as you want.” I don’t think he believed me because he said, “Can you come to the point within thirty seconds to two minutes?” I said, “Of course, we can control airspeed and reach the point at the time you want us to be at the point in space.”
We had this capability because we had insisted at Edwards’, in 1965, that we know the time to the next point, (time to go) something the computer experts and engineers at Edwards’ never thought about and never understood why we needed this information.
Flying the mission was easy. All we asked for was a destination point to be placed in the computer where they wanted us to be and the time to be there.
The mission planners told us to make it as close to thirty seconds as we could and they realized that would be very hard to do because we would be closing on each other at a combined speed of Mach six.
Bob Spencer and I, Richard “Butch” Sheffield we were the senior crew in the wing at the time, and Chief of the Standardization Division; were selected to lead both the missions and take off first. Darrel Cobb and Reg Blackwell were the spare crew and took off later to position themselves to replace either aircraft. Tom Pugh and Ron Rice took off about an hour later and met us over in Hanoi.
After refueling over Thailand, we climbed to altitude and headed north along the China border. Once we reach the speed where our inlets and spikes were programmed properly, we clicked our mike to single Cobb and Blackwell that we were OK and going on to the target. They flew a random course back to Kadena. About three days after we landed back at Kadena, the staff decided to look at Cobb and Blackwell’s film collected on the random course back to Kadena. A POW camp was found.
On May 4, 1972, we did it all over again with the same exact mission (SR-71 number 980, first of three).
The same results, but we shaved one-half second off the separation time to thirty-one and one-half seconds.
We came across Hanoi on a southerly heading at seventy-six-thousand feet at Mach 3.17; Pugh and Rice came across the same point, thirty-two seconds after us, at seventy-eight-thousand feet on a westerly heading.
The mission was a complete success. No one could believe that we came within two seconds of the mark.
I now know that it was to signal the POWs, the book, “Operation Thunderhead”, written by Navy SEAL Kevin Dockery confirms it.
I
I am proud of my father he participated in and helped in the planning of the mission of the Sound of Freedom. ~ written by Linda Sheffield Miller.
@Habubrats71 via Twitter
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Thunder vibrated through the Nemesis' hull, but Corona hardly seemed to notice.
She was just so tired.
The mask she wore was starting to weigh heavy on her, but she didn't dare take it off. Not even for a second. Not even in the quiet dark of the Pole Star's hold.
How much longer, she thought bitterly, before "Corona" is lost and only Eclipse remains?
She'd been scanning this world for months, methodically and painstakingly searching for the Vindicator's crash site. So far, she'd found the remains of the Harbinger, but there was no sign of the ship she needed to find.
But it had to be here. It had to. This was where its last known coordinates had placed it. This was where its transwarp trail ended. No other world in this planetary system had shown signs of occupation, only this world had, so this was where it had to be… right?
What was she going to do if she was wrong?
(She didn't want to think about that.)
Dragging her hand down her face, she stood up from the Pole Star's pilot's seat and disembarked the small ship, crossing the hangar deck to the massive doors that led outside. R1D3R and D34N, the guards for that shift, nodded to her; she nodded back in acknowledgement as the barrier slid away into its frame and a howling wind filled the space.
She let it rush over her, then strode purposefully out into the stormy darkness.
Just outside the doors, Shockwave's Predacon lounged beneath the overhang; at first, he seemed to be asleep, but as she passed by, he opened his brilliant yellow optics and raised his head with a curious sound. Idly, barely even thinking about what she was doing, Corona reached out to pat his shoulder. "Just passing through, big guy."
(The beast dwarfed her, and could have easily bitten her in two with no effort whatsoever… so she thought it best to be as nonthreatening and unobtrusive as possible.)
She walked until she reached the end of the landing platform - and once there, sat down with a heavy sigh. Letting her legs dangle over the edge, she leaned back on her palms and lifted her optics to the sky, watching the boiling black clouds that swirled around the ship. Lightning flashed and flickered, and every once in a while a great BOOM of thunder would rattle the hull beneath her.
I can't keep this act up forever, she thought wearily. The longer I stay here, the more likely it is that I'm going to slip up and get caught, and then…
And then it would all be over.
She thought about ducking out and setting up shop in the Harbinger, using its scanners instead - but dismissed that plan almost immediately. She didn't have the energon to sustain an independent operation, couldn't secure any on her own. Plus, in its stationary state and half-decayed condition, the Harbinger was far less useful than the Nemesis.
Nor could she just take the Pole Star out and search from there. Without a supply of energon or the Nemesis' cloaking device, she would be easy pickings.
And there was no way she could rely on the Autobots for help.
With a groan, she let herself collapse back against the hull, draping her forearm across her optics.
What am I gonna do?
For what felt like a long time, she just lay there, listening to the wind and the thunder and feeling lost for options.
A rush of hot air startled her out of her melancholy, and when she lifted her arm to see who could possibly have snuck up on her so soundlessly, she was surprised to see the Predacon blinking curiously down at her.
"…Oh, hello there." Sitting back up again, Corona half-turned to face the beast and watched as he settled back onto his side, propped up on one elbow as he watched her. What he might have been thinking, she couldn't have guessed; maybe he was wondering what a flightless little ground-pounder was doing, dangling themselves over the void like so.
She just smiled crookedly, letting out a single quiet laugh. "You probably wouldn't understand even if I could tell you," she sighed, almost wistfully; "but that's okay. Nobody would, so you'd be in good company."
He let out a snort that almost sounded sarcastic, and rumbled wordlessly as he stretched out to rest his head beside her. When she reached over to run her hand across those gleaming armor plates, he purred.
Her smile softened, despite herself.
"We're both pretty uniquely lonely beasts, aren't we?" She murmured. "I guess it's nice to have a little company in that, at least…"
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A Twin Thing - Ch. 6 - ?? years old
Read on A03
Rated: T
Summary: Leonardo is motionless, looking not at the bomb, but at Donatello, with a resigned finality that guts him to the core.
He bears witness to his family in their final moments frozen in time, until a fiery rage takes root in Donatello’s spirit so fierce he feels he might rip himself apart from the force of it. He refuses to let it end like this.
Status: Complete
::CH1::CH2::CH3::CH4::CH5::CH6::CH7::
A/N: This is a super heavy chap set in the bad future revolving around non-graphic canon major character deaths. Welcome to the pain train. I’ve adjusted the rating as well as the tags/warnings due to this chap. Feel free to skip this chap if heavy angst and character death is not your cup of tea. The story will still make sense if you skip from ch. 5 to ch. 7, which I do believe will be the last. I am a firm believer in bittersweet endings, so while this is a sad chap, it’s meant to be a lead into what we see in the film. Leo says to Casey in the prologue of the movie that hope is a ninja’s greatest weapon. Why was he so firm in that conviction? This is the answer I came up with.
~~
?? years old... in a future lived and yet unmade
~~
When Raphael is taken from them-- his heart still skips a beat at the memory-- Donatello swears aloud that his family will never go through that kind of pain again. He remembers how Raphael had smiled at him heartbroken and bloodied, giving him a final piece of cryptic advice.
‘Don’t go makin’ promises you won’t keep, little brother...’
He does not understand these words when they are delivered.
For years, Donatello studies, builds, strategizes, plans, and protects.
He keeps Leo from falling apart at the seams the first few months after Raph was gone, pulls him back from the reckless abandon of his grief on his darkest days, with most of his limbs intact. He keeps the light of Mikey’s smile from becoming a distant memory for them all, even if these days it takes conscious effort for his baby brother to shine with the same faith he used to have in excess during their youth.
For years, Donatello does not understand his eldest brother’s last words to him.
But as the warhead crashes like a hot knife through butter, past all of his meticulously laid defenses straight and true into the heart of their base of operations... He had let his guard down, gotten too sloppy, let them be found way too easily, forgotten just how merciless their enemy is.
The words he did not understand...
The collision leaves his ears ringing with a high pitched tinny chime. In the moment of stillness that comes before certain death, time stretches infinitely and he sees every single member of his broken family that is near him.
April has her eyes wide with a calculated panic, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. floating just behind her shoulder, already figuring out the outcome of this, and it’s not in their favor. She’s standing tall, fists clenched in grim determination. She always said she is going out standing.
Michelangelo is only just turning, fearful eyes looking over his shoulder as he catches sight of the bomb penetrating deep into there underground base. One night over stale alcohol in a shared moment of dark tormented humor, they had dubbed these nuclear-like missiles as the ‘never-got-to-say-good-BOOMs’, because they leave nothing behind, not even ashes to even bury.
Leonardo. Leonardo is--
‘Don’t go makin’ promises you won’t keep, little brother...’
Leonardo is motionless, looking not at the bomb, but at Donatello, with a resigned finality that guts him to the core.
Donatello bears witness to his family in their final moments as if frozen in time, until a fiery rage takes root in his spirit so fierce he feels he might rip himself apart from the force of it. He refuses to let it end like this.
Violet light saturates the room, blinding everyone within it, and then--
Time restarts.
Sound rushes back into Donatello’s ears all at once. The base's emergency sirens blare at full volume. Red warning lights flashing around the command center in tune with the wailing sounds. But it is the explosion he has miraculously contained that has his full and rapt attention, rumbling ominous within the confines of the mystic violet construct he has created to confine their pending annihilation.
“Donnie!! What... how are --” April uncharacteristically stumbles over her words, taking a hesitant step forwards. “How long can you hold that, Don?”
The explosion blooms like a deadly flower inside his barrier, already forming spider cracks along the glowing violet light of his mystic construct. He takes a deep breath, and sweat dampens his brow as he strains with effort, a new shield of light materializing around the cracking layer adding another barrier of protection.
Donatello did not understand Raphael’s words then, but he understands now .
“As long as it takes ,” he says through grit teeth, looking over his shoulder directly at her through the glow of his visor, not as their adopted sister, not as a lifelong friend, but as the second highest ranking leader of the resistance forces. Donnie narrows his eyes, “Commander, get everyone out, and let me know when it’s done.”
She smiles at him, but it’s a heartbroken thing as she nods and turns to his little brother, “Angelo, we’ll need cover. No telling what kind of backup they’ve sent to scout the perimeter even if they weren’t expecting an escape from this. No sense running out of the frying pan and straight into the fire.”
“On it!” Mikey nods without hesitation, and Donnie feels so proud of him. He pushes back a wisp of hair that’s loosened from its bun, then his hands alight with the warm glow of his mystic chains as he dashes down the halls echoing with siren wails.
April takes a deep breath and looks at S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., “Protocol Moving Day, Shelldon.”
“On it, Commander!”
S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. salutes with one of his thrusters before zipping out without waiting for acknowledgement. He beeps, whistles, and blurts out binary code as his lights flash purple and red. Tech integrated into the very walls of their base comes to life, deploying into emergency protocols she and Donatello had planned ahead for long ago, but prayed to never actually need.
She turns to Leo and pauses, “Casey-- I’ll take him with me and the other little ones in the first group. We’ll need you to gather up some volunteers to move the wounded from the med bay out next. Leo? You got that?”
When his brother does not respond for several long moments, Donnie checks over his shoulder again.
Leo stares at him hard, the chasm on his brow looking so akin to their fallen brother’s. He opens his mouth, looking ready to argue, but Donnie cuts him off.
“I’ve got this covered. Get everyone out, Leon. That’s your job right now. Focus .”
The slider grimaces, jaw clenched tight, but nods before rushing out of the room as well. Sirens fill the silence as red lights continue to flash around them. Donatello notices another crack beginning in his construct as the force of the explosion pushes against its cage and focuses within himself to pull another layer over the barrier. He’s defying the laws of physics. It’s maddening and exhilarating all at once, and he wishes he had just a little more time to revel in it.
“You don’t fool me, Donatello Hamato,” Behind him, April sounds broken.
“Technically, it’s Hamato Donatello,” he corrects instinctively. Sweat trickles down his brow, and he wipes at it with a shoulder, keeping his hands splayed on the purple barrier protecting everyone he holds dear.
Footsteps approach him and he cringes.
“April, don’t --” His voice cracks even as he glares at the fireball behind his construct expanding in nearly imperceptible increments.
“Shut up,” she ignores him and wraps him in a fierce hug from behind. “You owe me big time for this one.”
“ I owe you? Scoff ,” he has the gall in him to offer a smirk over his shoulder, but it fades into something more gentle when he sees the tears threatening to spill down her face. Her head still only comes up to his shoulder after all these years. “I wouldn't trust them into anyone else’s care, Big Sis.”
“You want to say goodbye to Case?”
“Galileo above, no ,” Donnie whips his eyes back to the purple construct before him, blinking and looking lost for a moment. “I’ve planned out his curriculum through grade 12, Shelldon has the backups, you can reupload them wherever you guys set up next.... Please don’t let my foolish brothers turn him away from his studies.”
“Auntie A will make sure he knows the value of an education, yes yes yes...” She laughs wetly. With a shaky sigh, she whispers, “I won’t say I love you, because you hate that emotional bullshit.”
“I won’t say I love you too, because that would make me a hypocrite ,” he whispers back, and he’s proud of how steady his voice remains.
She wipes her eyes and kisses his trembling shoulder before walking away, not stopping and not looking back so she doesn’t lose the courage to leave him behind. Donatello is left alone with his thoughts and his iron will to protect his family whatever the cost may be.
He can almost hear Raph’s voice in his head.
What I tell ya, Donnie?
He laughs it off, but it’s strained.
With every passing minute, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. sends him status updates via his headset on the evacuation progress. Donnie breathes easier, despite the sweat pouring down his face, with every confirmation that another group will make it out. That the Resistance will live to fight another day.
After twenty minutes, he voice commands the sirens off, nearly everyone is out. No sense in deafening himself for his last moments on earth. The stillness that takes over in the silence makes his skin pebble with gooseflesh and he shivers. By the half hour mark, he is on his knees and breathing hard with the effort to keep the explosion at bay. A voice crackles over the comms with a nervous air, “Uhh-- Don, slight problem...”
Donatello tenses, glancing sharply at the comm link on his wrist pad, “What is it April--”
Behind him hurried footsteps approach, and a voice rings out that chills him to the bone.
“Okay, Donald, that’s everybody and everything that we could roll out without getting slowed down. What’s the plan now, bro?”
He nearly cracks his neck whipping around to see Leonardo and Michelangelo both standing right there in ground zero with him. His teeth grind as he growls, “What in Copernicus’ name are you two still doing here?!”
The temptation to drop his shields just to wring both their necks in a fiery finale was devastatingly strong.
Michael floats back down to his feet, looking confused and worried between his two elder brothers. Behind him, Leonardo stands silently, face half shadowed in the dim emergency lights and the violet aura of the room. He grips the red wrapped hilt of his lone katana hard with his prosthetic hand.
“We’re the last ones here, Donnie. Why would we leave without you?” Mikey sounds so young , even if he’s got the most wrinkles out of all of them.
Don falters at his baby brother's question and turns back to his construct shield, glowering at it as he adds several more layers. He’s panting by the time he’s done.
“What’s the plan, Don?” Leo repeats the unanswered question.
Donatello laughs brokenly around a quiet curse, staring at the flames which have grown from the size of a beach ball when his containment barrier first went up, to a diameter larger than he was tall while they executed their evacuation. He has lost count of how many layers of walls it has slowly disintegrated through, how many more he has reformed around the growing fireball in that time to keep it in check.
Michelangelo is at his side before he even realizes his brother moved, bandaged hands touching his shoulder, and tracing the glowing purple cracks appearing through his skin.
“Donnie... This is--” alarm in his voice, intimately knowing the signs of damage that overdrawing on mystic energy will leave. “Donnie, are you--”
“Yes, and you were right,” Donatello takes in a deep pained breath.
“No way-- No way!!” His eyes are wide as he looks into the barrier and the way time is slowly fighting to move forward within it.
“Hypothesis confirmed... But there’s no time to celebrate though. We gotta get out here.”
“Leave the bad puns to Leo, please ,” his giggle brittle in the tense air between them. “Okay so what now, Don? How do we help?”
Donatello doesn’t answer for a long moment. His throat clicks several times like he’s trying to find his words again. When he speaks again it’s with a gentleness he reserves only for his littlest brother.
“Can I confess something, Peanut?”
Michelangelo huffs another anxious laugh, startled to hear the private nickname Donnie has never before used in front of anyone else, not even their other brothers. He throws a cautious glance at Leo’s face still hidden in shadow, before turning to Donnie with a quavery smile.
“Sure, Don, what’s that?”
Donnie looks at him for a long silent moment, brows drawn together in pain, before his mouth curves into a soft smile, “You’ve always been my favorite baby brother.”
Mikey stares in blinking shock, behind them Leo makes a sound between a scoff and something suspiciously sob-like.
“I’m-- I’m your only baby brother...” Mikey doesn’t like the tightness closing around his chest as Donnie’s eyes water, smile shifting into something melancholy.
“Don’t stay mad at Leo, okay? This is my choice. And I’m forcing his hand. I wanted to make sure you knew that, too.”
“What? You’re not making any sense , Donnie!” His distress grows as he turns towards their older brother, “Leo, what’s going-- hnngh --”
Michelangelo exhales softly as an unyielding mechanical arm from Donnie’s battle shell strikes the back of his neck, knocking him unconscious in an instant. Multiple other arms catch his little brother before he can fall, and lower him gingerly to the floor. Donnie uses one to brush the hair out of Mikey’s face. The silence is broken only by Michael’s unconscious breathing, and the ominous rumble behind the walls of his construct barrier.
“What are you doing, Don.”
Leo sounds tired. So very tired.
“Feigning ignorance is unbecoming, Nardo.”
“Donnie.”
“Leave with Mikey. Shelldon will transmit the all clear to me when you’re out of the blast radius.”
“Don. No way-- There has to be another way.”
“Leonardo. Do what has to be done.”
“Donnie, I am not leaving you.”
“Leon, this ends one of two ways. Either two of us walk out of here, or none of us do. The latter of which is not an option I will entertain.”
His brother struggles visibly to come up with an alternative, “If you’re holding this back, then maybe I could-- I could portal it away, someplace else. I could--”
“ No .”
Leo stops short at the note of terror in Donnie’s voice.
“This already shouldn’t be possible. I’ve broken beyond my limits just doing this . And I’m paying the cost,” Donnie watches the skin just above his forearms flake away into violet light, “But Mikey always said the mystic was about manifesting the impossible. We’ll give him a point for his mystic training, kay? ‘Cause I got it. It will kill me... but I got it in the end.”
“ Don --”
“Let’s say, Michael wakes up, hmm?” Donatello babbles on with a growing edge of hysteria, “And you’ve made a portal-- the amount of energy you will need to transfer this thing will kill you. I’m gone as soon as I let this go, Leon. Blast or no blast. This is my last stand. Then he’ll be alone, Leo. Is that what you want? Do you want Mikey to lose both of his brothers in one shot? Is that it?”
Leonardo looks at him as though his world is ending, because maybe it is a little bit. Donnie takes pity on his elder brother, sighing with the exhaustion of reasoning through so many tumultuous emotions he never learned to comfortably deal with.
“I can’t keep this up, Leo. And there is nothing that will shield us from this once I let it go, or-- or once I lose the strength to keep up the barrier. You got everyone else out safely. Now go. This isn’t over. We need to regroup and get up to fight another day. Mikey and I were working on something important, that only he can finish now. You have to get him out, or we’ll never see the other side of this. Trust me on this. Please. Go .”
“Donnie-- I can’t. I can’t-- ” Leo staggers towards him, as if the strength was draining from his body.
“I know, Leon. I know . That’s why I made the choice for you... Now it's simple, and it’s not your fault, and you don’t have to think about it, okay? Your job is to get Mikey out of here, safe and sound. I’m invoking sacred elder brother duty.”
He chuckles a little shakily, straining himself again to shape another layer of barrier over the one that was beginning to crack.
“Tell Mikey... tell him that’s why I did it, please. He’s gonna be so mad, but he’ll understand eventually. At least, I hope he will...”
Leo crumples to his knees behind him.
“There’s got to be another way,” Leo’s voice quivers and his chest heaves with every breath, he wraps his good arm around Donatello’s shoulders, the heavy weight of his prosthetic curling around his middle, and sobs into the back of his neck for long moments. “We can figure this out. Please, please --”
Donnie is laughing again but it’s manic as he is overwhelmed by turmoil that isn’t his own, and it is so much to bear when he is already on the precipice with his own emotions. He feels Leo take notice, reign himself back, shoulder the burden and instead try to bolster Donnie up, as he always has...
“How would you rate my ability to finally accept that you were right about us all along?”
Leo's breath shudders, “Huh?”
“That we are, in fact, twins... have been all this whole time,” Donnie leans back into the embrace as his laugh peters out into a quiet acceptance, “Very satisfying, very very satisfying, wish Donnie were less of a dum dum sooner --”
“Unsatisfying. The most unsatisfying I told you so in all of existence,” Leo croaks and holds him closer, “To the scale of negative infinity--”
“Technically ‘infinity’ constitutes both the positive and negative side of the mathematical--”
“Shut up , Donnie, please let me have this...”
He bites his tongue and does just that, letting his head droop forward as he breathes hard through the stress of maintaining the barrier. The only sound is their breaths hitching in rhythm between the crackle of his construct against the rumble of the restrained explosion. His arms tremble as he materializes another layer of violet energy as his previous one begins to crack away, and he finally breaks the silence, words slow and quiet.
“If there was another way... I promise I would have thought of it by now. Could you release my battle shell? Take it with you. Shelldon and April will know what to do with it. They’ll be able to set up a new mainframe with it. Please Leo-- I really can’t hold this much longer.”
“Wait, wait-- this can’t be it,” Leo is shaking with desperation, both prosthetic and flesh hands clawing into the purple cape draped around him.
Mikey had made it to match his own. Donnie takes a tremulous breath and steals himself.
“Leon, stop . You can’t do this again. April will need you. CeeJay is going to need you more than ever. You don’t have the luxury to fall apart again, okay? I won’t be there to pull you back together. If you can’t keep it together on your own, who will be there for Mikey ?”
“We-- we need to be there, Don. Both of us. Donnie, please -- I can’t lose you too .”
“Promise me you won’t lose hope, Leo.”
“Donnie--”
“ Promise me!”
Leo gasps through his tears, muttering weakly, “I--I promise ...”
Donatello sighs shakily, a tremble taking hold of his shoulders. The barrier in front of him cracks severely this time and a slip of heat curls out so intense it makes their skin blister wherever it hits.
Growling with an uncharacteristic ferocity, Donatello’s eyes alight with glowing violet energy and he slams up another containment wall, several inches thicker than all the ones prior. When his eyes return to normal, he is heaving for breath from the effort, tears staining his face as he stares unseeing into the eye of the storm he’s holding back. Thin veins of mystic energy crackle all the way up his arms, over his neck and around the skin of his eyes.
“I dreamt...” Donatello has to pause to swallow thickly.
Leo still weeps with his head bowed against his shell, the skin of his flesh arm around Donatello sizzling from the burn of the near breakthrough, but he had not let go.
“I dreamt of Raphie last night...” Don whispers into the silence between Leo’s sobs. Leo’s breath stutters still in a moment of shock, “It was a nice dream. We reminisced a lot... I think he knew... He reminded me... I wouldn’t be alone. No matter what.”
Leo says nothing, only curling his fingers tighter into the violet cloth of Don’s cloak.
“So if--” Donnie’s voice cracks, and he laughs tiredly again though it sounds more like a sob, “If that’s what you’re worried about. Don’t. He’s here. He’s always been right here. And so will I , got that?”
Leonardo cannot find the air to form words, only squeezes his twin tighter.
“Now I need you to get out of here yesterday , because I’m seriously running out of juice. And that’s as good at emotional pep-talking as I’m ever gonna get.”
“Raph would be proud... I’m proud, so proud, Donnie--” All Leo can do is laugh through his tears and hug his twin tighter, “I’m sorry... I’m sorry for being such a shit brother-- for every time I let you down, for--”
“Nardo, shut the hell up and go, you massive idiot.”
The conviction in Donnie’s voice startles him silent. With a hitching gasp, he releases his twin slowly and instead gathers their youngest brother in his arms. When he gets back on his feet, the weight of his grief makes it impossible to stand tall, nearly keeps him pinned in place. Donatello feels it too, pressing him down where he kneels staring into the waiting fire, but Leo dutifully takes one step towards the exit. Then another. And another.
“Hey, Leo.”
Leonardo stops, but doesn’t turn to look at Donnie, because if he does, he will never find the strength to walk away again. Tears silently drip down his face with every ragged breath.
“Apology rejected,” Donatello’s voice hitches, and Leo gulps down another sob, trembling where he stands, “I couldn’t have asked for a better twin.”
Leo cradles their unconscious little brother close to his chest, and sobs through a miserable laugh.
“I love you, Donnie.”
Donatello closes his eyes and lets the tears fall as he leans his forehead against his cracking barrier, “I love you too.”
.
Leo walks away, and doesn’t stop. Does not complain when S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. appears with his mechanical arms extended and picks them up to speed up their escape. Does nothing but hold Michelangelo tighter when he gasps awake too many minutes too late, and tries to fight his way out of Leo’s grip, screaming their brother’s name. Does not pause his march into the refugee camp that Commander O’Neil has set up outside the blast radius to regroup after their hasty escape. Does not look back when even this many miles away, the heat and shockwave from the blast that erupts behind them ripples through their makeshift camp.
He does not answer Michelangelo when he despairs and wails about abandoning their brother. Does not flinch when in his rage and anguish his baby brother releases a blast of mystic energy so strong it nearly rivals the flash of the explosion they escaped, before crumbling into his and April’s waiting arms like a child again.
When the place deep inside his chest that had always been filled with warmth from the connection to his twin suddenly empties into a cold disparate void , Leo does not collapse and shake apart under his grief.
Because he promised his twin he would not lose hope.
And he does not fail to keep that promise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: **dodges bricks** I sowieeeeee!!! o(ಥ﹏ಥ)o I hurt myself writing this.
I want to list major inspirations for the looks of the future!boys I describe:
For Donnie, I imagine him in a cloak because of KatHaynesart absolutely masterful comic about loss and acceptance: Future Bootyyyshaker 9000 AU
For Mikey’s hair, the amazing artist IngunnSara has infected me with future man-bun Angelo, and I cannot get over how cute he looks. I’m so sorry you go bald in cannon Angie, it’s such a cruel future!! o(TヘTo)
Finally if you made it this far. Thank you very much. This has now expanded into a series, and I will be doing a few other fics exploring Donnie’s relationship with his other brothers due to the ideas and scenes I came up with that just did not fit the theme of this particular story since it is focused on the Twins. This chap of the Future!timeline especially I think leaves a lot of unanswered questions, which will be filled with the perspective of the other stories. I’ve already started on the Raph and Don story, if you’d like to check it out: Words you didn’t say
I promise the next chap, while also angsty, is much less sad than this one. Our Future!turtle boys fought hard for the possibility of a happy ending and BY GOD I’m giving it to them... or at least to their good!timeline counterparts. ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡
#rottmnt#disaster twins#rottmnt fic#tmnt fic#brotherly bonding#family feels#hurt/comfort#heavy angst#for this specific chap#canon character death#bad future#fanfic#sticky#series: wish we had just a little more time...#minu loves tmnt#not tcest#just in case that needs to be clarified
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Gzar of the Undead
Gristol kept tossing and turning in the despicable excuse of a bed that was provided in the humiliating bubble of the Psychoisolation. The springs creaked, the mattress was too soft and he needed – no, demanded an extra pillow. But these peasant Psyhcho-dummies wouldn't even pretend they'd listen to him. How dare they. He is the Gzesarevich of Grulovia – FUTURE GZAR in fact!
Gristol bolted up from his pitiful pillow when he heard a sound, like footsteps. He looked around. No-one. He scoffed and laid his head down again, closing his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep.
Suddenly, he heard a clang. He bolted up again.
“WHO IS THERE!?” He demanded aloud. “I demand you show yourself.”
Nothing. Not a sound. Again. And then …he noticed something.
The door.
The door was open, just a bit.
He swung his legs over the bed and stood up, carefully approaching the thick metal door that had barred him from his rightful freedom. He gave the door a push. It swung open like it was nothing. What was the meaning of this? Did an electrical failure opened it? Or did someone unseen unlock it for him. Or was this a trap.
Gristol stepped outside the Isolation Bubble, looking around. No-one, not a soul around. He grinned.
It didn't matter how the door opened. The only thing that mattered was that is was open. And he, Prince Gristol Malik, first of his name, had a straight shot to freedom. He moved as fast, and as quietly as he could toward the lift. Luckily, in his years in his job as meager, demeaning profession of Psychonauts Mail Clerk, he knew how to operate it so it worked for non-Psychics.
The lift lowered him to the ground floor. Again, no-one there, not even that unrelenting jabbering wench of a receptionist Terryl – something he praised God for.
He let out a chuckle as he approached the door leading to the outside, to freedom. The doors opened for him, revealing the quiet night. He folded his hands behind his back and stepped out, an air of triumph and superiority plastered on his face.
He turned around and made a mocking bow towards the building. “Thank you, sweet Psychoisolation, for you hospitality.” He straightened himself with a menacing grin. “But I think it's hight time I'll make my leave.”
He turned around ...and let out a yelp, when he suddenly found himself NOT in the Quarry, like he was a second ago. He was in his Royal Suite in the Lucky Luctopus Casino.
“What in the-?” He asked aloud. “How did I get here?”
He heard a huff. “Always asking the most relevant questions, don't you, Gristol?” A mocking voice asked.
Gristol felt his heart clench. That voice. That booming, intimidating voice. He knew that voice. He had heard it all his life. He used to worship that voice. Gristol slowly turned to the direction of the voice. By the penthouse viewing window, that gave a view overlooking the entire casino, stood a person, his back turned towards Gristol, looking at the scenery below them. And not just any person …
“F-father?” Gristol asked, his knees almost buckling. “I thought you were …”
“Dead?” Theodore Malik, former Gzar of what once was Grulovia, finished. “As you can see, I am quite ...the opposite.”
“I ...I saw you die.” Gristol said, slowly approaching his father. “I held your hand as you took your last breath.”
“After which, you wasted no time trying to take my crown.” Theodore said. “To become ruler of a dead country.”
“It was my birthright!” Gristol shouted. “And I had a plan. A plan to make Grulovia great again!”
Theodore let out a low chuckle. “And how did that turn out?” He asked. “You nearly drowned
“They didn't play fair!” Gristol complained, taking long steps towards his father, ending right behind him. “But now that I'm out, I-”
“You will do nothing of the sort.” Theodore barked out, still his back turned towards his son. “You knew what Maligula did our country, yet you still tried to revive her. Your plans were as you are, a failure. And failures ...have no place on the throne.”
Gristol gasped. “How dare you, father? I am the Czesarevich! The rightful heir to the throne! I am-!”
“A child in a grown man's body.” Theodore interrupted. Gristol was suddenly aware of the foul odor around him, which seemed to grow more pungent with every passing moment. “A poor, middle-aged man, pretending he's so much more than he is. A lowly mailman with dreams of being royalty. Just plain old Nick Johnsmith.”
Gristol clenched his fists, seething with anger. “Turn around and say that again, old man!” he growled.
Theodore remained silent for a few moments. “As you wish, Gristol.” He complied, slowly turning around.
Gristol gasped in horror when he saw his fathers face. His eyes were pure white and sunken, his skin was green and rotting, with several patches of flesh already gone, replaced with blackened, decaying holes. The lips around his mouth had rotted away, showing his teeth. His Imperial Uniform was tattered and dirty. The foul stench that Gristol had smelt earlier was now everywhere and stronger than before.
Gristol let out a scream and jumped away from the undead figure. He stumbled over a scattered tin of caviar and fell backwards. He pushed himself as far as he could, scrambling to get away, screaming all the way.
Theodore chuckled, his exposed teeth parting briefly, as dust emerged from his throat. “Now, Gristol ...is that any way to greet your father?” He held out his arms. “Come give me a hug and join me for dinner, my son. I am famished.” He took a few steps forward towards his son.
Gristol let out a scream and scrambled up, running to the door, his escape from this decaying living cadaver. He pulled open the door with all his might, but held on to the doorknob as he nearly fell. Behind the door was no hallway, no other room, no casino even. There was a black void. At first it seemed it seemed bottomless, but Gristol felt his heart freeze when he heard the sounds emerging from below, like a low moaning. And then he saw the eyes, the endless glowing eyes. Thousands of them.
“What ...what are those?” Gristol asked, his voice trembling with fear as he slowly walked backwards from the horror below. He let out a pitiful wail, as despair and dread took melted away the last slivers of courage his body possessed. “This can't be real! THIS CAN'T BE REAL!”
He froze when he felt a cold hand fall on his shoulder. He felt his undead father's cold, pungent breath in his ear. “This is quite real, my boy. As real as it gets. And those things down below?” He gripped the back of Gristol's shirt and started to push him towards the door again, despite his son's attempts to escape his death grip. “Those are you loving subject, as you always wanted. Dead habitants of a dead nation. And they love you, just like you always wanted.”
Gristol tried to did his feet into the floor as he kept getting closer and closer to the edge. He let out a scream as his feet passed the threshold. He spread his arms, keeping himself from toppling forwards. Droplets of sweat rolled down his forehead, as tears rolled down his cheek, only whimpers and incomprehensible begging coming out his throat. His hands were sweating so much, they almost didn't have a good grip on the doorframe. In fact, he felt his grip slipping.
“P-please....” Gristol begged, letting out soft cries.
Theodore chuckled. “Why don't you go say them hello?”
He gave a final, hard push.
Gristol lost his grip. He screamed as he felt into the void, flailing his arms around in desperate panic, as he saw the eyes get closer.
But instead of being grabbed by undead hands, he landed on the ground. He landed hard. He spat out a mouthful of dirt and let out a groan, as he picked himself off the ground. He whimpered as he looked his new environment, and noticed to his absolute dismay that he recognized it as well.
He was in Grulovia.
The flooded ruins of Grulovia.
He stood by the shores of the lake that had formed after the Deluge, after Maligula went on a rampage. In the distance, he saw the once glorious Imperial Palace of his Malik ancestors, now ruined and decrepit, most of its walls crumbled or gone. The demolished houses of the peasants were partly submerged in the water. He saw bodies, floating under water. Still and unmoving.
Then, he heard a long, tired moan behind him. He spun around, facing the ruins of what was once the Grand Capital of Grulovia. He throat was dry, his breathing fast and erratic, and he was fairly certain he had soiled his pants. His heart froze in a dead-like grip when he heard noise coming from the ruins. Shuffling. Something dragging across the ground.
A figure appeared from behind the corner of one of the ruins. A decaying corpse, wearing torn and tattered Grulovian clothing and missing chunks of flesh in it's face, using it long fingers to drag its body across the ground. Its dead, white eyes were focused on Gristol.
“Mmmyyyy Gzesaaaareviiiiiich....” It moaned, as it dragged closer and closer. “Yoooouuu aaare finally heeeeere...”
Gristol was frozen on the spot, as he saw more and more undead peasants shuffled from the ruined houses, pushing themselves up from rotting debris of even clawing themselves out of the ground.
“Wweeeee loo-ooove you, Gristol Maaaalik!” An undead woman moaned. “Taaaaake me as a briii-iide...”
Gristol stepped backwards, his eyes darting around to find something he could use as weapons, to keep these monstrosities at bay. “Don't come closer. I demand you!”
“But we lo-ove yoouu....” Another peasant man, this one wearing the uniform of the Castle Guards. “We have waited for you... Our Gzar!”
Soon, all the undead were saying similar things, as they shuffled closer and closer towards Gristol.
“No, stay back!” Gristol shouted in desperation, as tears rolled down his cheeks. He yelped when he felt himself step into the freezing water of the lake behind him. Fear gripped his throat when he saw that the floating bodies of the dead were swimming towards him. Their soaking bodies were bloated and pale, their eyes missing.
Gristol screamed and tried to run away, but fell when something caught his foot. He looked around and saw to his horror that an undead arm had grabbed him. Another arm bursted out of the ground, grabbing Gristol's other leg, holding him in place. Gristol kicked in an desperate attempt to break free, clawing at the ground to pull him away. He looked up. The undead peasants from the ruins had reached him, and when he looked behind him, he saw undead crawling out of the lake, freezing water dripping of their clothes. He was surrounded.
“Now you'll become our Gzar ...forever” An undead moaned.
“NO!” Gristol screamed, as he felt cold, stiff hands grabbed him. He screamed as they started to drag him towards the lake. Their fingers tearing at his clothes, their nails digging into his flesh. Gristol cried and begged, kicking his feet, thrashing his body as hard as he could. He clawed at the ground, trying to dig his fingers into the frozen dirt, but finding no grip. He screamed in fear, as he felt his feet touch the water, and started to thrash around even harder.
But it was to no avail.
The undead slowly pulled their quarry further and further into the lake. Gristol tried to grab hold to anything that could save him. A rock, a branch, anything!
But the dead kept dragging him into the lake.
His breath hitched when he felt the freezing water touch his chest. Sputtering and coughing as he got mouthfuls of water as he screamed. And as his head got submerged into the lake, and his screams were replaced by bubbles erupting from his gaping mouth, he noticed a figure standing on the shores.
He held out his arm towards the figure, in a desperate plea for rescue.
But the figure just watched.
And did nothing, as the undead dragged a screaming Gristol to the dark bottom of the lake. Towards darkness.
The domain of the dead.
Long live the Gzar.
Hollis Forsythe let out a sigh as she walked into the Psychoisolation Chamber. She approached Terryl, who seemed distraught.
The Psychoisolation receptionist jumped of her seat as she saw Hollis approach. “Ma'am, I-”
Hollis held up her hand, halting whatever the woman was gonna say. “You found him this morning?”
Terryl nodded. “I was bringing over his breakfast – toast with jam and orange juice – when I noticed that Ni- I mean, Mr. Malik was not moving in his bed. Like, at all. And I know I am not allowed to go in there, but I got worried when he didn't respond at anything I said, so I went inside and-” She took a deep breath. “I ran out of there, locked the door and notified Agent Nein and Mentallis immediately.”
Hollis patted Terryl on the shoulder. “You did good.” She said with a reassuring smile. “Go to the cafeteria and have a coffee, to relax your nerves.”
Terryl let out a nervous chuckle. “If it's all the same, Agent Forsythe, I think I rather go to the Astral Lanes for something ...stronger.”
Hollis sighed. “I don't blame you.” She gave Terryl a last pat. “Dismissed.”
Terryl nodded and walked out the reception area as fast as she could. Hollis shook her head and took the Levitation Lift to the upper level. She saw that Otto was busy talking with some other Agents, who were doing a sweep of the area.
“Otto.” Hollis greeted.
Otto nodded. “Forsythe” he sighed putting his fists on his hips. “Quite the morning we're having. I was having a lovely breakfast with coffee and croissant, when I get a message about his mess....” He gestured for Hollis to follow him into the Isolation Bubble.
“So ...how is he?” Hollis asked.
Otto sighed and looked towards the bed. “Well, he is alive.”
On the bed, whimpering and trembling, lay Gristol Malik. Hugging himself and in a fetal position. He kept whispering to himself in a soft, frantic voice, but all that came out of him resembled nothing comprehensible. He had an opened Psycho Portal on his head. Sasha sat next to him, in a trance.
“Is he ...responsive?”
Otto scratched the back of his head. “How do I put this...?” He asked aloud. “The light is on, but the occupant is ...unavailable. The wheel is turning, but the hamster is ...not dead, but missing. He is a complete, catatonic state; and he seems to be in a continues state of dread.”
“Did someone do this to him?” Hollis asked.
“No evidence of break-in of any kind. No forced entry inside the Isolation Bubble, if it were possible at all.” Otto said. “I designed this chamber to be impenetrable, with the only entry point being the mail slot and I don't see someone crawling in through there.”
Hollis looked at the Psycho Portal on Gristol's head. “You could telekinetically bring a Portal through there...”
At that moment, said Psycho Portal shut itself close and Sasha – now back in his own body – stood up. He greeted Agent Forsythe with a nod. “Hollis.”
“Agent Nein, how is the situation in there?”
Sasha sighed and crossed his arms. “It's ...a mess.” He stated. “His entire world is overrun with Nightmares, Mania Monsters, Fear demons, Personal Demons and more. But of Gristol's Core Construct is nothing to be seen.”
“Can he be helped?” Hollis asked.
Sasha sighed, tapping his chin. “He is ...salvageable.” He stated. “With some intense therapy – and over a long, long period of time -, he'll be back to his normal self.” He paused. “Relatively speaking, of course. Junior Agent Razputin's report has stated that Malik's mind was already in a state of mania, denial and regression. He was already an very unstable person, who's mind was not in the healthiest state.”
“Is this going to hurt his case?” Otto asked. “He is in no state to stand trial.”
“I don't think that matters much.” Hollis said, folding her hands behind her back. “We have him on kidnapping, impersonating a government official, forgery of documents, treason, conspiracy against the world peace, mass endangerment, and a whole lot more. And then there are the war crimes he and the Malik family were responsible for. As Gzesarevich – and heir to the throne – he can be held accountable for them, even if he was a child back then. He's going to be put away behind bars, no matter the state of his mind.”
“At this state, he'll probably be put in a nice, soft, padded cell.” Otto stated. He let out a huff. “Good riddance, if you ask me....”
Hollis pursed her lips for a few moments, before letting out a breath. “Sasha, I am sorry but I need to ask” She began, turning to the German Agent. “Do you think that Razputin-”
“Absolutely not!” Sasha stated firmly, not letting Hollis finish her sentence. “Despite his animosity he feels Malik in his role against his family, and the using his trust in Truman to make him complicit in that plan, Razputin feels that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, even the lowest of the low. Besides, the Psycho Portal he had been extensively borrowing from me ...is right here.” Sasha floated the Portal over to his hand. “And it's been with me ever since I requested it back from Razputin several days ago.”
The three Agents paused, as they thought over the case.
Hollis straightened herself. “As you said yourself, Agent Nein, Gristol's mind was already in a downwards spiral.” She stated. “Could it be that his defeat and the foiling of his plans ...simply pushed him over the edge?”
Sasha remained silent for a few moments, his expression stoic behind his glasses. He nodded. “It's entirely possible.”
Hollis turned to Otto. “And there is no sign of break-in or forced entry, at all?”
“Nothing of the sort.” Otto replied, an almost unnoticeable smirk forming as the corner of his mouth.
“Then we might assume that his break-down happened on his own. He simply couldn't take it anymore. We have seen this happen dozens of times with dozens of different enemies. Some people's minds just can't handle being thwarted.” Hollis turned around and started to walk out of the Isolation Bubble. “Finish up here with whatever you deem necessary, but I don't think this requires much more investigation ...” She looked over her shoulder, as best as she could with her giant shoulder pads. “Don't you agree, Agents?”
Both Otto and Sasha nodded.
“Good.” Hollis brushed off some dust of her jacket. “I shall inform Truman and the other Agents of what happened.” With that said, she walked out.
Sasha let out a deep breath and turned to his former Mentor. “Otto, is this really the course of action we should take?”
Otto patted his student-turned-colleague on the back. “In my experience, sometimes the greater good needs a bit of ...harmless omission.” He started to guide Sasha out of the bubble. “Let me ask you this, hypothetically speaking, if you had the chance, knowing what he has done ...would you take it?”
Sasha stared at Otto in silence for a few moments, before he walked out without saying another word.
Otto let out a sigh and fished something out of his pocket. It was Truman's Thinkerprint Authenticator. This device had All Access to every building in the Motherlobe and beyond. He had found it outside the Psychoisolation, floating in the lake. Gristol must have had it with him when he went to see Maligula – Lucy...
Otto bounced the device in his hand. It must have fallen out of his pocket when Maligula attacked. It certainly had traveled a long distance from there. How it would have ended up here …
Otto chuckled and put the device back in his pocket. “Ah, some mysteries are not worth unraveling.” He made his way to the lift, humming a song.
Back in the Questionable Area, Frazie sat on top of the Funicular as it went up in down, lost in thought. She let out a sigh and let herself fall backwards, gazing towards the sky. She bit her lip, before letting out a yawn. She had hardly slept last night. Too much on her mind. She sighed. Had she gone too far? Shouldn't she-
“Hey, you.”
Frazie bolted up and looked into the direction of where the voice had called out from. The voice belonged to Norma, that Intern – or Junior Agent, if one had to be precise- who approached her. Frazie had to admit, she didn't have no patience for this one. She had tricked Raz, stolen his clothes, made him to HER work to get them back, suspected him of being the mole and that her entire family were Deluginaries, and went behind everyone's back to get the glory of stopping 'their evil plot' and nearly helped the real enemy win.
Plus she had a really unpleasant personality.
Yet, Frazie hated to admit ...she was pretty. And not that bad when you got to know her.
Still, she rather not deal with her today. Not after yesterday, where she got into a fight with her, here in the Questionable Area.
“What do you want, Junior Agent Natividad?” She asked, putting emphasis on the 'junior' part her title.
“Just wanted to talk.” Norma said, holding up her hands. Not waiting for Frazie to agree, or even an invitation, she hopped on the funicular, just as it made its way up again. She sat down on the funicular's bench as looked up to Frazie, as best she could. “Did you hear about Gristol Malik?”
Frazie held her breath, hoping Norma didn't notice that little hiccup. “Yeah, Raz was all ablaze about it this morning.” She stated, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. “The guy crashed or something?”
“'Or something'.” Norma stated, as she decided to climb on the roof that Frazie was sitting on. Frazie, on the other hand, jumped up and stepped of the train as it reached the top.
“So, what about it?” She asked, walking over to the little ruin, to lean against one of the remaining standing walls.
“Just curious that it happened to sudden.” Norma stated, as she managed to jump of the funicular in time, before it made it way down again. “So sudden, out of nowhere. Strange, isn't it?” She asked, walking over to Frazie.
Frazie just shrugged. “Is this what you wanted to talk about?”
“Actually ...” Frazie began, folding her hands together in front of her. “I wanted to talk about yesterday. When you ambushed me and pinned me against the trees?”
Frazie huffed. “You deserved that.” She said, looking away from Norma. “For all that stuff you pulled against Raz and our family.”
Norma sighed. “And I don't blame you for being mad at me for that. I ...am making amends as I go.”
Frazie's expression softened a bit.
“But I think I must have lost something during our little struggle.” Norma began, as she started to pace slowly across Frazie. “This morning, I noticed that my Psycho Portal was missing. I had it in my pockets yesterday, and this morning ...poof, gone.”
Frazie pursed her lips together. “Is that so?”
Norma hummed a response. “So, when I got here, I went back to where we ...met and I looked around.” She produced a small grin. “Luckily, it was still where I must have dropped it. Isn't that fortunate?”
Frazie's head snapped towards Norma's direction, an expression of disbelieve on her face. “What …?”
“I said, 'luckily I found it there'.” Norma stated, putting emphasis on her words. “It probably was there the entire night. Such a luck that no-one picked it up.” She shrugged. “Or any of the animals, for that matter.” She peeked over her glasses, giving Frazie a long, meaningful look.
Frazie stared at Norma, incredulity forming in her eyes.
Norma just smiled and nodded.
Frazie closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Is it wrong of me ...thinking that Gristol deserved that? Stuck in a nightmare? Am I a bad person because of that?”
Norma walked over to Frazie and leaned against the wall next to her. She remained silent for a few moments, before she spoke up. “I think you're a person who really loves her family and would do anything to protect them, despite the consequences.”
She broke away from Frazie's gaze and looked over the Questionable Area. She shrugged “I certainly think that he deserves it. I even think he deserves more than that, for taking advantage of me and Raz, and our trust in him when he was using Truman's body. Hell, I think you would agree that I deserve some punishment as well.
Frazie place a hand on Norma's shoulder. “Norma, you was tricked by him.”
“No, it was more than that.” Norma stated, shrugging of the hand. “I mean, he took advantage of Raz and his desire to to help everyone. That boy has a good heart.”
“The best....” Frazie stated softly.
“Me? I did it all for the glory and recognition.” Norma continued, her voice growing louder and more agitated. She walked away from the wall and started to pace around. “He spoke out these honey words about how I would be heralded as a hero, and my name would be remembered by Agents, present and future, for centuries to come. And what did I do? I FELL FOR IT!” She let out a yell as she kicked a rock, sending it flying.
“Norma ...” Frazie began, her expression soft and compassionate. “He had tricked EVERYONE for years. Milla, Sasha, Hollis, Mr. Mentallis, and every single one of those Agents walking around in that big brain building of yours.”
“That doesn't make me feel any better.” Norma stated, pushing up her glasses.
Frazie grinned. “I know something that could make you feel better.” And without further explanation, she closed the distance between them and caught Norma in an embrace.
“Wh-what are you doing, Aquato?” Norma asked, her cheeks growing more red with every second.
“It's called a hug, smartypants.” Frazie giggled. “And this is one of the things people do to make other people feel better.” She tightened the hug. “Is it working?”
Norma gulped, and slowly wrapped her arms around the redheaded acrobat. “Maybe a little bit.” They remained silent for a few moment, neither of them willing to break the embrace. Norma suddenly felt something being placed in her back pocket. Something hard and rectangular. She took a deep breath and broke away from the hug, letting a nervous smirk form on her lips. “Hey, watch those hands, Miss Opportunity.”
Frazie giggled. “Sorry, couldn't help myself.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, and gave each other a quick nod, silently sealing the pact they had wordlessly made.
Norma coughed in her fist. “A-anyway, if were are done feeling sorry for ourselves here, I was wondering if you would like to do something with me?”
“Oh? Why?” Frazie asked with genuine curiosity.
“I just ...want to get to know you better.” Norma stated, as she scratched the back of her head, a blush forming on her face. “With Raz being a fellow Agent, we might be running into each other a few times, so I figured: why not become friends, you know?”
Frazie grinned. “You know, I agree. I would like to get to know you better, as well.” She stated, a small blush spreading on her cheeks. “We had a bit of a rocky start, you and I. So ...why don't we start over?”
Norma returned the grin. “Great.” She swung her arms back and forth, seemingly a bit nervous. “So, do you want to go to a place where we can make o- hang out, HANG OUT, I meant to say hang out. Oh good grief!” She let out a groan and buried her face in her hands, her entire face as red Frazie's hair.
Frazie let out a laugh and skipped over to her blushing friend, hooking her arm into hers. “Actually, I know the perfect place.” She said, as he guided Norma towards the Funicular. “I found this little cave while exploring a few days ago. It's secluded, away from prying eyes. A bit of a tight squeeze, but I'm sure we'll make due. A sweet little spot where we won't be disturbed while we're...” She leaned in closer to Norma's ear, brining her voice down to a whisper. “'Hanging out'.”
Norma let out a long breath, which came out as steam out of her mouth, fogging up her glasses. She took them off and wiped them clean on her shirt. “L-lead the way.”
Frazie giggled as they hopped on the funicular.
She felt like this would be the start of something beautiful.
#Halloween fic#halloween story#psychonauts 2#psychonauts#gristol malik#gristol gets punished#norma natividad#frazie aquato
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I have Had Some Thoughts. Operating off both will having powers and will getting vecna’d:
What if vecna acts more like Lucifer in supernatural (at least, to Sam in season 5) trying to get him to join him? I’ve read a good fic where vecna has will in a dream coma by showing him like his idea life, right? (10/10 but the way read it) And then there are a shit ton of vecna preying on his trauma. And I’ve also seen some where vecna does try to get will on his side by pointing out he’s a burden or that his friends don’t care or that they forgot his birthday or whatever and is overcome by the power of friendship and/ or gay love.
And I love all of those kinda fics, but I haven’t seen any where it’s vecna disguising himself as mike to get will to agree to work together. Maybe it’s because I’m not a fan of most Villian!Will fics but IMAGINE, if you will:
Will and Mike are back in Will’s Cali bedroom. “I think we should work together. I think it’ll be easier if we’re- if we’re a team. Friends. Best friends.” And Will agrees. But then Mike adds “right will? We’ll be a team? We’ll work together?” Or something and Will goes “of course we’ll be working together” and boom actually mike is vecna and will just agreed to work with him.
OR
“El needs you Mike, and she always will.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so.”
“What about you, will you always need me?”
“I- I mean. Yeah, of course.”
“I need you too. I can’t lose you either. You’ll stay with me, right?”
“Of course I will, you won’t ever lose me. Or El.”
“Promise you’ll stay with me?”
“I promise.”
Boom it’s vecna.
OR (and this one is my favorite)
“I never said sorry for what I said last summer.”
“Mike, it’s fine. You’ve more than made up for it.
“You were right though! I was tearing apart the party. I should’ve been a better friend. To all of you. But especially to you. You’re my best friend Will, you always will be.”
“Yeah, you should’ve been. But I could’ve reached out more this year, too. And El had just dumped you, of course you were upset.”
and there’s a soft tender moment with tender, emotional music playing.
“Hey, after all of this- let’s start a new party. You and me.”
And it’s everything will has wanted from him since he realized how he felt, and even if it isn’t romantic he was never expecting mike to love him back anyway. He just wants them to be close, like how they used to be.
“You and me.”
And then vecna.
And yeah we don’t know what Vecna wants from Will but like. Maybe will agreeing to work with him is all he needs, and suddenly he can possess him again (supernatural territory). Or maybe he acts like a parasite and starts draining will’s powers with consent. Or maybe will is in control of himself to a certain extent but like. Vecna is fucking with how he perceives things. Like enemies are friends and vice versa.
Happy or sad ending depending on what you’re feeling. Maybe the whole plot is subverted because Will thinks mike is being too nice to him. Maybe Mike realized his feelings recently and has been making up for everything, and then vecna puts them back by a decade. Maybe he snaps out of it in the middle of the upside once again. Idk I just really like the idea of Will getting everything he ever wanted only to realize it was a trick. And then getting it for real, but taking a while to trust that’s it’s real. Because I am ultimately a sucker for a happy ending.
Anyway. Feel free to expand on this. I want all of The Thoughts. Be Big Brained.
#sorry for mentioning s*pernatural in the year of our lord 2022#but this has been HAUNTING ME#so I’m making it everyone else’s problem#byler#byler tumblr#byler fanfic#will byers#mike wheeler#stranger things 4#stranger things s4
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CYNTHIA'S MOST WANTED! (April edition)
So I see you need a deer. You see, I have a deer: dear Cynthia. And I for one am looking for more of you guys to write with. Without further ado, let's plot!
Mission board!
Eenie meenie miney… oh? (Axe +1)
What's all this about a mine? Something feels fishy here. Cynthia's sure it's a scam of some kind. Come help her be a hero and take down the evildoing scammers! (Claimed by: you? :D)
Friendship in the time of scurvy (Heavy armour +1)
Pirates?? Taking down bad guys?? A chance to prove herself as a cool hero to a noble? Yes, yes and double yes! Take her with you to kick pirate butt out on the open sea! (Claimed by: you? :D)
Might be too hot (Faith +1)
Cynthia is, once again, looking for a challenge. This seems to be the toughest challenge yet: fighting in boiling heat. Fighting for what? Let's discuss! (Claimed by: Sitri)
Non mission board!
LOOK AT THIS GRAPH
Calling all second gens! Let's take pictures together! It'll mean the world to Cynthia - really! Take some silly goofy pics that they'll remember forever! (Claimed by: you? :D I'll take more than one for this I think)
Would you like to hear about our lord and saviour - justice?
Clubless? In a club anyway? It doesn't matter! The Justice Cabal needs YOU! As the co founder, Cynthia is pretty tenacious about this. Cool masks are provided, but you need to have your own cool hero pose. Don't have one? Cynthia can teach you! She's not leaving you alone until you join, basically. Might as well give in, put on your mask and get posing! (Claimed by: you? :D)
Exploding petals
Listen. Cynthia needs to brainstorm new battle entrances. BOOMS is offering stuff like colourful fire magic?? Teach her your ways! She'll set fire to the whole operation but who cares?? (Claimed by: Phila!)
I'd prefer to be DM’d on discord (vehicroids) rather than on Tumblr. If you don't feel comfy with DMs you caaaan ping me in the plotting channel! It's just not my preferred way of doing things
#justice never sleeps ... except now! ooc.#long post#I'll have the other starters up soon! i've got a couple drafted up they just need posting (after these shenanigans)#toa plotting
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The Productivity Hellscape
I have a really bad habit. Before each semester start, I'll say, "I'm going to take it easy this time" but I never do. In fact, in one of my semesters, I took 18 units w/ extracurricular activities. Same thing in senior year of high school. I took 3 AP classes while working at Starbucks.
Do you ever feel like you're not advancing fast enough? I overwork because I feel inadequate. "Everyone is so much more talented and better than me," I think, "Gotta shove 4 extra jobs down my throat so I can feel like I'm good enough." Honestly if my body didn't literally crumble, I would do it.
I'm almost impressed by it. I have literally work on my homework in the Emergency Room. Even near death, I probably would still work on my homework. Even in my after life, I would send an email to my teacher to apologize for being dead... because I didn't complete my homework.
You get the point.
truth be told, I wasn't always like this. In fact, I was raised and trained like this. When I was a kid, my teacher would praised the kids who did well. Our school work differently than in America. Our final year test grading scale is based on mistakes. You have 10 points. Every mistakes is -1 point. Once you make 4 mistakes, you're out of the game. As in, good luck repeating the whole school year again. I was slap and hit too. Even simple "mistake" like not coloring my picture in kindergarten granted a punishment.
As I grow up, I grown a distain for myself. Even when I wasn't actively punish anymore, the idea of not being perfect in school still give me great amount of stress. I am like a battered dog who was still chained to an abandoned post. I couldn't unravel myself from my conditioning.
Helpful Tips that help me slow down
Life in itself is joy: I always thought to myself if I slave away right now then I'll be happier in the future. Once I score straight As in my high school years, I'll be happier when I am in college. If I work hard and get a good paying job THEN I'll be happy. I realize each stage of my life, I was pushing that carrot on the stick further and further down. The truth is I should prioritize my happiness NOW and for the future. I am worthy just by existing. I don't need to prove my worth to become happy.
If it doesn't work a couple of few times, then I should try something else: One of my mentor said this. It sounds so simple yet I am caught in the trap of thinking if I have my willpower this time then It would work. Think of your new year resolution that you never complete. The one that you tell yourself each year it would be different but it didn't. Perhaps switch up your framework or tactic. The current method might not be working for you.
Scheduling in Hobby and De-stress activities. Again, sounds quite simple. Yet, my calendar is always fill with things that I have to do rather than I want to do. Recently, I kept a to-do list of tasks I want to do for fun. For example, Reading a book about audio mixing at a library, making a workout regime specifically to become a super cool buff boom operator/Grip, or study at this one cafe that have really good smoked salmon toast (all of this sounds really nerdy I know). For me, these all the thing I do to treat myself.
What do I want right now? I checked in with my body a lot because when we're on our phone or being busy we neglect our body. I'll tune in to see what my body wants. Maybe, it wants to stretch or cook some food to destress.
I am gonna work a little bit of homework now to help my future self. To curb my procrastination, I would take small step towards my homework. I have this habit of either not doing it or doing it super last minute. I hate working because it feels like I have to complete the whole thing. Lately, I have been framing it as me helping to lighten the homework load when I do procrastinate last minute. It won't stop me from finishing my work near deadline but it definitely makes it feel more manageable and less destructive.
The Aftermath:
I am better at balancing work now. Also, I am actually pursuing something that I am interested in! It makes hard work feel rewarding rather than out of obligation. Still a perfectionist but this whole blog is supposed to help with that! I am doing well so no need to worry about me! I hope the tips can be beneficial to you.
Any WIP?
I have a script idea! I haven't write them down yet but I basically have an outline of it. I am super proud of the it as well! I just have to start actually doing it T_T
Getting the script into film will be hard. I hope to one day make it though.
A lot of words today. And there's still a lot of points that I didn't get to. Anyhow, see you next time! Have a great week.
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[BSTS] Sinju April Fool’s 4* Card Story
note: April fool’s this year was the starless cast starring in a detective drama, Shinji (shinju’s role) was the killer
chapter 1 -beachfront, sunset-
saki: (So the climax will be filmed at this beach. I wonder what kind of scene it will be?)
shinju: Mm~....
saki: Shinju-san, is something the matter?
shinju: If I don't carry out this scene perfectly then they won't be able to finish up with the shooting. I'm feeling the pressure though, like I'm wondering if I can really pull it off...
saki: It's the climax of the show so I can see why you'd be nervous.
shinju: Yeah, have you seen the script? It's a scene where the culprit 'Shinji' cries whilst apologising for what he's done. I can't imagine what Shinji's feelings would be whilst he's repenting here very well.
saki: ...I don't think this role is that different from the usual you though, Shinju-san.
shinju: What!? Do I look like I'm capable of killing someone!?
saki: No, I didn't mean it like that. The culprit's motive was doing it for the sake of everyone else right?
shinju: Yeah.
saki: I think the aspect of doing things for others is what's similar to you.
shinju: So, basically, you're saying we're both kind?
saki: Yes.
shinju: I see. So due to Shinji's selflessness he ends up committing a crime... And then once it's all over and he comes back to his senses, the tears overflow and he regrets his actions huh.
saki: If someone kind like you were to stray down the wrong path, I think it would end up like that yes.
shinju: I see! I think I got it now! Instead of trying to force myself into character... I just need to think as if I really did kill somebody. If I do that I think I'll be good!
director: Shooting will be starting soon everyone! Please stand by!
shinju: Uwah, it's already go time.
boom operator: Shinju-san, regarding the scene, would you like to use eye drops for the tears?
shinju: No, it's fine. I'd like to try crying naturally first, is that alright?
boom operator: Of course!
shinju: Well, I'll give it my all then, Saki-chan.
-
chapter 2 -same location-
-cg
shinju: “Uu... Uuu...” (sobbing)
shinju: “When I thought I was gonna die right now I got so scared. I’m a m-murderer... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I promise I will properly atone for this sin. I'm sorry...”
director: Cut!! Your acting just now was outstanding!
shinju: T-thank you...!
saki: Great work, Shinju-san. You did so well. I almost started crying myself.
shinju: Is that so... I'm glad to hear I acted the scene well... Uu...
saki: Shinju-san? Are you alright? You're still crying...
shinju: Ahaha... Sorry, the tears won't stop for some reason. When I started imagining that I'd actually killed someone, they just kept coming...
saki: Fufu, I see.
shinju: Sorry, I must look pathetic huh? Give me a moment, I'll stop them eventually.
saki: No it's alright. You’re even more kind hearted than this role, I don’t think someone like you could ever become a criminal, Shinju-san.
shinju: Hold on...! Please don't say nice things to me right now. I'll just start crying again cause of how grateful I am...
saki: A-are you ok?
shinju: Yes... It's been a while since I cried that much.
staff: Good work, Shinju-san! I've got some drinks, please take whichever ones you'd like.
shinju: Thank you! I'll take a barley tea and a bottle of sports drink then please.
saki: Are you going to be ok drinking that much?
shinju: Yep! If anything I need to rehydrate after all that crying!
—end
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