#also once more apologizing for splinter not showing up until now i promise i like him i was just struggling to write him ankdfkdkj | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purpleturtle9000 · 1 year

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*rolls in on a segue with frog stickers and cookies*

The purple ones like to give gifts to show affection sometimes, right? How does that translate to each other? How do they bond are there hijinks are there Conversations™️? I assume they aren’t as affectionate as the blues but also I would love to be disproven via “unconventional affection” (gentle biting and the like) bc you showed that Tello at least does that to Leonardo (which was amazing and I keep going back to reread that specific post)

Anyways

Farewell for now friend(?) enjoy the stickers and cookies ✨

YES HI HELLO FRIEND

you are not prepared for the amount of purple nonsense I have to talk about I promise

Purple ones do like to give gifts! They're like reverse raccoons, where they show up in the middle of the night to give you things instead of steal them. (Usually. There's been some theft when something looks particularly cool and science-able. There's also been a lot of apology pizzas.)

The complication to this is that Donnie likes giving sciencey gifts, and his brothers are not what you might call 'appreciative of the finer things in life'. Donnie's the only one excited about Splinter bringing home an anemometer, y'know? So it's not like he can gift weather instruments to the dum-dums he lives with. Sadly.

And then Tello shows up, after sixteen MORE years of being a huge damn nerd (affectionate). They remember their home laboratory very fondly, even if they also remember it as being pretty rudimentary. Donnie objects to this descriptor until he sees what Tello can do and then promptly shuts his mouth.

Despite being much more advanced in their scientific knowledge and mystic abilities, Tello wants to see everything in Donnie's lab. It's been a while since they've had a place so well-stocked, what with the end of the world and all. And it's not like the rest of the family is going to be nearly as interested in what's going on, so there's maaaybe a little bit of Tello that wants to give Donnie some more of that sweet, sweet validation from a parent-aged adult.

The rest of the turtles just find it weird that the purples are over here getting each other scientific instruments and printed-out doctorate theses for their birthdays, but whatever. The purples have always been weird to them and that's never gonna change.

There's also fun things like LEGO sets. They spend three days putting together the ISS set and watching various horror movies like Alien. Donnie is allowed to keep all the sets and has a display case in his lab that is better protected than most bank vaults. The purples are the only ones allowed in there even though Leo keeps trying to get in to see what they've been working on.

Also Tello takes Donnie to museums at night! It's not hard for them to fix things with the security systems so nobody sees the turtles running around. They have a great time and Tello will never tell anyone that Donnie gets emotional over that one display with the fossilised turtle eggs.

Donnie is also the only one allowed to handle Tello's prosthetics. I mean, the others can touch them, but nobody else is allowed to work on them. Tello teaches Donnie a lot and Donnie is very careful with everything he does. He's also the one who comes up with the pattern that Tello eventually has on their arm! And he builds a new pair of goggles for Tello cause theirs is kinda busted up.

And I'm in charge of canon now so SHELLDON LIVED DAMN IT. He was never rebuilt before the apocalypse started, in the bad timeline, but Donnie rebuilds him in the good timeline. This is the one thing that Tello doesn't help with because they're too nervous about messing up. But when Shelldon is put back together again, and he and Donnie have had their reunion, Donnie brings him to Tello immediately. There's a lot of crying.

There are SO many hijinks. They get up to so much trouble together, truly they make each other worse. Leo starts a prank war once and the purples fucking finish it. Nobody else gets involved, as Leo is left to his fate even by Leonardo. He remembers The Great War Of 2028. Nobody will say exactly what happened but accusations are made.

And if anyone bothers Donnie, Tello will be there with a ridiculously sized knife in .02 seconds. Don't mess with little purple cause the big one is unhinged. They've threatened everyone but Casey Jr at some point, Jr just gets removed, usually picked up by the ankle by one of Tello's metal battle shell arms, with him giggling all the way.

The purples being bonded does make missions much more dangerous for the bad guys. Or rather, it did. Tello is officially banned from going on any missions that aren't life-or-death, because the second the young twins or Jr are in danger, Tello will make it life-or-death. Donnie doesn't see this as a problem, but everyone else does.

Conversations, on the other hand, don't happen much. At least not ones about emotions or the future. Tello's had enough of that shit and there's a lot of memories that they'd rather not revisit. Even apart from all their own trauma, what with losing two legs and an arm and a chunk of their shell, Red's death in particular hit them very hard.

Fortunately they always have Science! And Donnie's got a little bit of hero worship with how advanced Tello's stuff is. Sometimes they ask each other for advice on things. They're both unusually polite about it, in that they don't just jump in to fix the thing, and instead work together. Sometimes for 37 hours straight at a time.

Neither of the blues are very pleased with them for that. Neither of the purples care very much. Unfortunately Leo is too small to pick up either of them, and they all know from experience that Donnie will bitch him out if he tries while on crutches with a cracked shell. Tello does not yell. Tello is very quiet, while staring very intently, with a disappointed expression. Somehow that's much worse to the blues.

Tello scares Leonardo sometimes but that's not going to stop him from dropping by to kidnap Donnie to get him to sleep. Usually Tello is pretty good at realising when the two of them have been awake too long, and will get Donnie to bed. Sometimes the nerd things are just too important and Leonardo's gotta step in. Tello is nice enough to check what time it is before reacting, but if it hasn't been at least twelve hours, Leonardo is in danger. Nobody's helping him escape, he knew the risks.

Unconventional affection is so much a thing. There's been literally countless times where someone walks in on Donnie biting at Tello's arm cause Tello puts a wrap over their metal arm and Donnie can just. Chomp to his heart's content. They both think it's hilarious and they're right tbh I support them.

Headbutts are affection I said what I said. Usually it's like when a cat gently headbonks you to show affection, but also sometimes there's a lil bit of Violence in there. The others don't get involved in that, they've got enough bite marks from previous interferences in purple bonding.

Also, Tello reties Donnie's mask tails for him when one starts slipping loose. They don't let Donnie do that for them, something something shell trauma, something something if you surprise them from behind you're gonna have to go to the hospital. Donnie doesn't have all the details on that but he doesn't push them about it. He gets touchy enough about his brothers touching his uninjured shell.

Donnie is allowed to touch Tello's hair, however! They'll sit side by side and Donnie will braid it for them sometimes. Tello usually doesn't braid it themself because strands have a habit of getting wrapped in the joints of their metal fingers and that's just a hassle. But it's also calming for them to have someone working on their hair, so even though they never say they're stressed, Donnie knows the signs and always makes time for them when they need it.

This is something that originated in the bayrise fic and got carried over to wify cause I love it. When one or the both of them are having a no-touching day, they'll bow to each other in greeting! Only time they reliably use their manners, and the reds are lowkey tired of them not having manners any other time, but also the reds think it's adorable. They don't say that cause they don't wanna get hurt.

Hugs and cuddles are not so much a thing for them. Donnie is particular about when he lets people touch him, and Tello's ten times worse. They get a little better about it eventually, but it's not like they can synchronise the days when cuddling is okay. There's one thing that Tello always try to make an exception for, though.

When Donnie's stressed to the breaking point, Tello will haul him off to a remote blanket nest and curl completely around him so he can't see the outside world. Dark, quiet, alone, protected - they're the perfect conditions for Donnie to start coming down from the panic spiral. And if it's needed, Tello will hum the lullaby that Splinter used to calm them down when they were little.

Not even Jr or Leonardo will come near them when there's an emergency nest. He'd be better off throwing himself into the raptor pen at Jurassic Park and they all know it. They also all know where the emergency nest is, so they can make sure they avoid it. They call it the alligator nest because there's no doubt in anyone's mind that Tello would protect it with as much ferocity and nearly as many teeth as an angry mama alligator. They are quite correct.

#i have an unreasonable amount of emotions about the purples and this will certainly make that clear. 1500 words oops?#rottmnt donnie #rottmnt future donnie #wify meta #series: when i found you i found me #rottmnt

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obae-me · 4 years

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Hi I love your blog and your writing. I don't know if your doing request or not, so if you aren't just ignore me. But could you possibly have a hc where MC breaks a body part and had to be in a cast how would the brothers (+undateables if you have time) would react?

Oh but this is soft tho, I love writing fluff, thank you so much for the request! 💜

Lucifer

MC had been with him when it happened, and it’s something he’ll never forgive himself for. He forgets how fragile humans are and how anything can hurt them. Anything! He had prepared for monsters, demons, curses, spells, poisons, but he never thought he needed to protect them from stairs!

He was walking beside them as they both started to walk home from RAD, talking to them about an upcoming project. It was dark and rainy, and it bothered him none as he started to descend the slick stone steps. He was just about to warn them about their step when they stumbled down the stairs, hands extended to try to catch themselves, hitting each step with an awful sound before resting on even flooring with a groan.

He freaked out so badly, he called MC by five different wrong names before he finally got it right just as he reached their side. They were alive. Great. They were breathing. Fantastic. They...they had their right wrist bent in the wrong direction.

MC was fairly certain he didn’t even breathe or blink at all as he flew them towards the Devildom’s version of a hospital. He kicked the doors open, demanding MC got looked at, ignoring all of MC’s pleas to wait like everyone else. The poor doctor was not prepared for all of Lucifer’s commands and questions.

MC is not allowed to walk, not allowed to go to class, not even allowed to leave their room for a while. He’s so worried something will happen. He doesn’t even want them to sleep without him there first. His brothers are only allowed to come see MC one by one, following a strict schedule he posted outside MC’s door. Anyone found breaking the schedule will be severely punished.

Is he overreacting severely? Yes. But does MC appreciate his affection? Yes. He’ll hold them close whenever their wrist hurts, petting their head and shushing them if they ever cry. He’ll do all his work for Diavolo in their bedroom, making sure to glance up in frequent intervals and check how they’re doing. He’ll watch over them so intently he’ll end up accidentally falling asleep in the chair by their bed, head resting on his folded arms.

Even after it’s healed, he insists on holding MC’s hand whenever they walk to make sure it won’t happen again. He’ll also pick them up now whenever it rains. He can’t afford anymore unnecessary risks.

Mammon

He brought MC along on another one of his poor-planned money making schemes. He wanted to show off and impress them, and MC only agreed to go along to try to make sure he didn’t get himself in too much trouble. Try being the key word here.

It ended up being super sketchy, causing both MC and Mammon to run away from angry demons. Since Mammon is impossibly fast, he held onto MC’s hand to try to keep them together. However, even if MC ended up being an Olympic runner, they still wouldn’t have been able to keep up with his speed. So, they lost their footing and fell hard against the ground. There was a rough popping noise, but Mammon got them right back on their feet. It wasn’t until they finally got home before Mammon realized that not only were they scratched up, but their shoulder...didn’t look right.

He thought maybe he could fix it himself, which was the opposite of what he should’ve done. Now, not only did it look even worse, but MC’s expression of pain caused Mammon to panic like he never had before. He held onto them tight, much too tight, and MC was almost certain he’d end up passing out before they did.

He got a doctor right away, and while they were getting checked, Lucifer and Mammon were fighting worse than they had in a long time. Mammon had hardly fought this much for anything-or anyone-before. The only reason why Lucifer let him off the hook for something this severe is because it’s been too long since he’s seen Mammon so serious.

Mammon won't leave their side, but he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be near them either, so he’ll spend time pacing by their door for hours before MC tells him to quit. They tell him he doesn’t need to feel so guilty, it was an accident, stupid stuff like this happens to humans all the time. He’ll kneel on the floor by their bed, head against their leg, looking like a scolded puppy. It’s the first time they’ve seen him cry.

It’s not everyday Mammon will do whatever they want. Even if it’s not perfect, even if he messes up, he wants to get MC whatever they want or need.

After they’re fully healed, Mammon will still check their shoulder every day, and Lucifer doesn’t complain when Mammon tones down some of his schemes for the sake of MC’s safety.

Levi

He signed both himself and MC up for this awesome parkour class. He had seen an ad for it and wanted to go, only because he wanted to learn some cool moves that he had seen in an anime. Of course, this was a demon class, so already they had the students doing crazy things like jumping roof to roof and doing flips that would take years for MC to do properly. Unfortunately, they tried it out anyway, not wanting to wimp out of it.

Next thing they knew, they heard Levi scream as one of their legs gave out on them, unable to support their landing. He was by their side, already in tears, shouting incomprehensible words as he called for help on his D.D.D. Not only did one of the brothers have to carry MC home, they had to carry out Levi as well, his brain fried at the sight of their broken leg.

He blames himself hard, having to catch his breath anytime he sees MC in their cast. He had no idea human’s bodies were so brittle, they never seemed so weak in anime. They were always fighting, overcoming impossible feats. He was so lost in the world of fantasy he didn’t know real life was so...frightening. It was a reality check he really needed, he appears to treat MC more authentically now.

He’ll make sure MC is fully entertained while they’re on the mend, it's the least he can do. Most of his setup is now in their room so they can play games with him and watch shows together. He’ll talk their ear off about his favorite plots, and promise to MC that they’d get better and he would protect them, just like his precious characters.

MC now has little drawings on their cast thanks to him, to liven it up a bit. Covered in chibis and little hearts.

He’s used to not getting much sleep, so he’ll watch MC as they rest, watching their chest rise and fall, making sure he keeps an eye on their leg. They’re not allowed to move it much, so he keeps tabs on how much they toss and turn, sometimes holding MC in his arms while they sleep to make sure they don’t move.

Even when they’re better he is always wary about them leaving the house. He should’ve never broken his rule, home is always safe, and now he can’t relax until he knows MC is safely home.

Satan

He was always afraid of hurting MC due to his wrath, but he never knew that they could so easily be broken. He hadn’t even intended to hurt them, he didn’t! He just...he was angry, he didn’t want them to come into his room, but they insisted, they wouldn’t listen! Now look what he had done to them...

He had slammed the door on them while their finger still lingered in the door-frame, he had no idea...he didn’t know something as simple as shutting a door would hurt them so. They both heard a sharp crack, Satan originally believed it had been part of the door, the wood breaking. Until he heard MC’s shriek of pain. He opened the door back up to see their finger bent backwards where the door had shut on it.

After he had tore the door off its hinges and resolved it to splinters, he ushered MC quickly out of the house to get their finger checked. His other brothers had to quickly come at MC’s request to keep Satan from harming the medical staff when told they had to wait to get checked. It took him far too long to calm down, having to be physically restrained by Lucifer and Mammon until he cooled off.

MC’s broken finger had been on their dominant hand, so Satan did all the writing for them. MC never asked him to, he did it anyway. He felt like it was the bare minimum of redemption. He made sure to read up more on the skeletal structure humans possessed, and MC is pleased to find that they had never seen Satan be so gentle with them. He softly strokes their hand, has a hard time now raising his voice above a whisper around them, and MC swears he now has painkillers in his pocket at all times for whenever they need it.

Satan takes after Lucifer in being much too prideful for simple apologies, he’s hardly wrong in the first place, but he said it to them once they drifted off to sleep, head in his lap. He didn’t move from his spot all night.

Healed wounds meant nothing, Satan refused to treat MC any differently from his delicate and precious books.

Asmo

Trust him, he would have never given MC those ridiculously high heeled shoes had he known that humans were so clumsy and fragile. The heel of the shoe was so tall, whoever wore them might as well be walking on the very tips of their toes. They were a new fashion, and since he adored his adorable MC so much, he got them a pair.

The last thing he expected was to have them fall so dramatically after a single step. At first he planned on giving them props for their fall, it was like a movie scene, but then he saw how their ankle looked. Twisted and limp, MC started to hyperventilate.

He had seen some pretty disgusting positions the human body could get into, but this was wrong, it shouldn’t be like that. He had never been so serious or flown so fast before. He didn’t even say a word until they were in bed, getting some medication for the pain. He grasped onto MC’s hand and apologized repeatedly until MC was convinced he had lost his voice.

After they’ve been taken care of, he refuses to let go of them, cuddling them pampering them. He didn’t know just a simple misstep in the wrong shoes and they could just hurt themselves like that! He thought himself a master of the body, but he still had much to learn about humans, it seemed.

He calls himself Nurse Asmo for weeks, not leaving MC’s side, carting them around in a wheelchair even if they insist on using crutches or moving around themselves. He’ll have none of it. He feels responsible and so MC is under his constant care until their body is just as beautiful and whole as he remembers. He’ll want to make sure he takes care of them so well, their body will have no choice but to heal faster.

He’ll not forgive himself for allowing MC’s perfect body to get like that again. He’ll never let MC even look at high heel shoes, he knows plenty of adorable flats that would look great on them.

Beel

He’s always extra careful around MC, he knows they’re fragile, he’s well aware of the difference between strengths. Anytime he’s around them, he does whatever is necessary to make sure they’re safe at all times. Unfortunately, no matter how protective he is, sometimes accidents happen, especially when humans and demons mix.

He and Mammon were fighting over food, special food, limited edition flavor chips, and Mammon had stolen it. He didn’t even eat it, he sold it. It was an insult. They both were in demon form, battling it out, Lucifer trying to stop it, by force it would seem. They were all so consumed in combat, power flinging, furniture flying, they had no idea MC had walked in the room to check on the chaos, only to get caught up in it. A large cabinet headed in their direction, and if they hadn’t stepped back, they might have gotten fully crushed. Unfortunately, their foot ended up being crushed in their place.

Beel felt sick to his stomach, hearing the sound of the bone crack made his insides feel all twisted in a way he and his iron stomach hadn’t felt in centuries. The fighting immediately came to a close, the food they were fighting over seemed worthless to him now, for once he couldn’t care less. He refused to let any of his other brothers touch MC. In fact he almost didn’t want to touch them himself. He had such a hard time holding them, he ended up physically shaking, worried that he’d hurt MC even further. He doesn’t want to let them go, though, he holds onto them for an entire day, acting like MC’s personal shield.

Beel skips classes, workouts, even his team practices to be with MC. MC is absolutely not allowed to move by themselves, he’s going to carry them wherever they need to go if they must go somewhere. Until they’re fully healed, all the meals are going to be MC’s favorite foods. None of the brothers get a say otherwise, but no one is going to defy Beel over this anyway.

MC never sees him fight with any of his brothers again, not with them around anyway, and if they thought Beel was already super protective, they weren’t ready for their new unofficial bodyguard.

Belphie

Honestly, he was bewildered how MC hadn’t died yet--well, other than that--in the Devildom. Lilith had loved humans, and, he in the past, had loved them too, so he knew how weak they could be. However, MC had just...tripped...on their own feet, falling right onto their own face. He laughed at first, he will admit, he had no idea how hurt MC was. When they stumbled back onto their own feet, their face and chest was covered in blood.

He was frozen for a good few minutes, his mind buzzing, his heart pounding out of his chest. He kept getting flashbacks of that terrible moment in the attic, and it was only until MC grabbed his arm, disoriented and in pain, that he was able to move again. They gasped his name to snap him out of it. They weren’t flinching away from him, they didn’t look afraid of him, in fact they were leaning into him, looking for his comfort.

He got them home as quick as he could, making sure MC didn’t have any more fumbles on the way. Obviously once they saw the state MC was in, all the other brothers were freaking out as well. Mammon accused Belphie of doing something to them again--it was taking Mammon the longest to forgive him-- which didn’t make Belphie feel better about it. Normally he would’ve just fought Mammon then and there for such an accusation, after all the things his older brother had dragged MC into, but he didn’t have the energy. MC needed to be taken care of now.

He did feel guilty, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Once the doctor came, he left the room, getting some air. He would wait until after MC was asleep to come check on them and make sure they were okay. He would make sure that MC’s pillow was fluffed, that they were comfortable, and then he’d fall asleep at MC’s feet at the end of their bed. He’d wake up at the slightest movement, checking over their body and face for who knows how many times now.

While they were deep in a dream, he took a permanent marker and drew little cow spots on their bandage. It was a silly gesture, he was well aware, but even having a small piece of matching patterns made his heart happy.

He won’t say it but he’s so glad when they’re finally healed. MC notices a sharp increase in his energy levels as he asks them to do plenty of activities together. He hardly ever wants to do something with them besides nap.

He’ll be prepared to catch MC if they ever trip again. He won’t let them be hurt ever again. Period.

Diavolo

He wasn’t there when it happened to MC, but Lucifer relayed the information to him as soon as possible. He didn’t freak out, at least, not in the way people would expect. It is rather unlike the Lord of the Devildom, however, to drop all his work, cancel all his meetings, and quickly make his way over to the House of Lamentation.

He excuses MC from classes immediately, making sure staying safe and healthy was their first and only priority. Not just for the sake of the program, but something in him stirred violently at the sight of seeing them pale, in pain, their forearm in a cast. He asked Lucifer for details.

Upon hearing that it was due to some lesser demon, he laughed, but it was a terrible laugh. He calmly stated that he would handle it, but every member of the household could feel the house rumble. Not even Diavolo could stay completely tranquil, it seemed.

He knew the consequences of having a human in the Devildom, he knew the risks. He knew about the dirt in his kingdom that called themselves demons. He just didn’t realize how it would make him feel . Not only did MC have classes off, he allowed all the brothers to stay home for a while as well to make sure they were well taken care of. He had Lucifer give him daily updates on their progress.

MC is now curious why there are new changes to not only RAD but the House of Lamentation, Purgatory Hall, and even Diavolo’s castle. Simple things like ramps, elevators, railings, anything as a means of injury prevention. None of the demons need to use it, it’s all for MC, but everyone acts like it’s completely normal. All due to Diavolo’s ‘modern design’.

None of the brothers dare say anything about the Demon Lord’s frequent visits to their home, or to MC’s room. Not even Lucifer had him come over this often.

MC is thankful they never have to see the demon that resulted in their arm breaking again, but they didn’t know where they possibly could've gone.

Barbatos

It’s safe to assume he knew about this. Except, there were plenty of timelines where something like this had happened, so he didn’t know the details of which unfortunate accident would come about. Whatever the case, he was prepared to assist and serve MC in whatever way he could.

He always thinks he’s seen everything and is well prepared for it, but it still doesn’t prevent him from having his chest hurt and his nerves shudder at seeing MC like this. On the outside, he’ll always appear neutral, so no one knows just how much he’s feeling for this human. He’s so much softer with them than anyone else.

MC doesn’t know how this demon keeps getting into their room without coming through the door, it freaks them out a bit, to be honest. They don’t complain about their room being so pristine you could brush over it with a white glove, though.

MC thought that maybe, maybe, just once they could get away with getting up and doing things on their own. The brothers kept on fussing over them non-stop, but at one point they got called away to a meeting, leaving MC alone at home.

They got up out of bed, ready to stretch their legs and get some fresh air, trying to get some sort of normalcy back. They did all this not knowing that Barbatos was keeping a close eye on them from the shadows the entire time.

Whether it was by Diavolo’s orders or Barbatos’ own volition, MC will never know, but they did find their little excursion to the outside quickly brought to a halt by some form of magic that transported them back to their room. Barbatos had them back in bed before MC could even reach the front gates.

No matter how they tried, they were forced to stay safe, now even unable to get out from their bed. No matter how much they struggled, their own sheets betrayed them. The silent butler only showed up once MC gave up. He strutted over putting a soft but surprisingly stern hand over their shoulder as he went about taking care of them. Any words of protest fell on deaf ears. It was his duty to protect him, and not even MC could stop him.

Simeon

He had no idea till he noticed that MC hadn’t been to school for a few days now. When he brought it up to the brothers, they explained how MC had staggered back home one night, hand completely busted, and they wouldn’t tell anyone why. For MC’s safety, and just for the brother’s peace of mind, MC was to stay home until further notice.

Simeon’s an angel, so peaceful, anger isn’t something he fully understands, but he felt a burning pain in his chest. Why didn’t anyone tell him immediately? Was he just supposed to figure this out himself? It had been quite a long time since Lucifer had seen Simeon frown so deeply before, eyes cloudy with distress.

Simeon had never missed classes ever. He was always much too early, much too eager to stick to regulations. So when he ended up skipping class, it shocked Luke to his core and caused Diavolo to make a note that an angel had broken the rules to go check on a human. This program was turning up all sorts of surprises.

MC was pleasantly surprised to hear the soft knocks on their door, vastly different than any of the ways the demons announced themselves. Simeon strode in, radiating warmth, carefully grasping their hand in his, and gave it a gentle kiss. The pain MC had felt no longer existed. Simeon explained that it was still best if they heal on their own, but at the very least, they wouldn’t feel pain. He would be there to make it all go away.

He’s around MC now much more frequently, guarding them, keeping them from harm. From that point on he urges MC to let him know when things happen.

Solomon

He had been teaching MC more about magic. Not only did he think it would be beneficial for his human companion, but it would sate some of his curiosity. He wanted to learn more about MC, about their capabilities, testing to see in what ways their previous angel ancestor had changed them.

He knew they had a hard time driving out their power, so he tried different methods to assist them, methods they could use on their own. Magic rings, chants, wands. Unfortunately, once something worked, all their built up power flooded out of them at once, their temporary wand exploding into shards, and the bones in their hand following suit.

He used some of his magic to heal up what he could, being careful not to go too far or he’d overwhelm MC’s already weakened body. MC couldn't tell what was running through his head as he had them supported and cradled with one of his arms, the other one hovered over their hand. Magical circles and sigils running over their skin as it rushed to heal them. While his face seemed calm, his eyes looked a bit darker, missing the mischievous glint in them. They were tighter, laser focused, serious.

After he did what he could, both of them promised not to mention it to anyone, for fear both of them would never hear the end of it, or worse. While MC walked themselves home, Simeon used magic to keep an eye on them from his room, taking note what happened with him today. His mouth tight, arms folded across his chest, watching as the remnants from MC’s faulty makeshift wand burned rapidly in the fireplace.

Luke

He has absolutely no idea how humans work or how weak they are. So when he heard MC had a broken bone, he didn’t even fully understand what that meant. Broke...a bone? He knew the word broke didn’t sound pleasant, and when he finally went to go see MC, his little head almost exploded.

Their body broke?? Human’s bodies could break like that?? And they couldn't just have it healed immediately??

He blamed the demons most definitely, but MC had never ever been so entertained when the little angel pointed at each and every one of the brothers--Lucifer included--and chewed them out. Each of them had different expressions. Belphie looked exhausted, Beel looked downtrodden, Asmo didn’t even seem to be paying attention. Satan looked like he was only focusing on not destroying Luke right then and there, Levi looked mortified, Mammon was the only one arguing back, and Lucifer was stunned speechless that a creature barely higher than his waist was giving him a lecture.

Until MC is fully healed, Luke makes sure to bring plenty of freshly baked sweets right to their door, not noticing seven pairs of glowing glares while he lingers in the house of demons.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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theturtlelovers · 4 years

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How would the turtles react and/or help their S/O after being told that their father is a narcissist? And they've been a victim of narcissistic abuse their whole life. Reccently I realized my dad is a narcissisit and I've unknowingly been a victim of narcissistic abuse my whole life.

I relate to this on a personal level. My own father was a narcissist, and though I wasn’t a direct victim of the abuse, my own mother was and I had witnessed it with my own eyes. I do believe I have Narcissistic Victim Syndrome since I do struggle with anger, indecisiveness, regularly have to deal with low self-esteem, anxiety, doubt, and attachment issues. I hope you seek help if you ever have the same symptoms as I do.

Narcissistic Father

Warnings: Narcissistic abuse and cursing.

Leonardo

At first, the signs of you having a selfish person in your life didn’t click to him at all. He just thought you were a very indecisive person who had low self-esteem. But then he started noticing the smallest of things that told him that something else was going on.

Adding low esteem and your indecisive ways, he saw that you struggled with anxiety, were a people-pleaser, and had self-destructive behaviors that gave off warnings.

It fucking scared him. He wasn’t hiding it very well, either. His brothers and Splinter were immediately concerned, not understanding why the leader in blue was freaking out every time you left the lair, or why he would give you long stares when you said you had a hard day.

He was building up the courage to ask you about it, worried you would close him off when he said something when you came running to him crying. That moment, seeing tears coming from your eyes, he doesn’t hesitate to ask what happened.

He was relieved that you didn’t put up a fight in telling him what was going on with your father’s narcissism. Though, he was infuriated at the same time, now knowing that you hadn’t realized that your father was narcissistic.

Leo doesn’t need to think twice to see that all connections need to be cut off. After explaining the situation with his family, they all agreed that you didn’t need to have your father in your life if he was only going to bring harm. With his brothers’ help, ties with your father ceased to exist, and you now lived with them. If your father tried to insert himself into your life again, Leo was there to stand up for you and keep him in his place.

Once your safe from the narcissistic abuse, he sets out to rebuild what your father tore down. At first, he may seem harsh about scolding your destructive behaviors, but once he explains that he’s only trying to help you, it becomes more understanding. Leo will take a different approach if he notices that the pointing out part doesn’t help.

Expect lots of love and encouragement too. He loves you dearly and is distraught that you had to tell him something was going on. He makes it up to you, though with kisses and sweet nights together.

Raphael

Let’s just say he was extremely frustrated before he realized that something was going on. Ever since you two had gotten together, he’s been trying to bring your self-esteem up and become confident in your choices. It’d work for a couple of days, and then it was back to square one all over again.

Eventually, he can’t stand being frustrated, so he ends up going to Splinter. No way in hell is he admitting that he’s having trouble helping his s/o to his brothers. He spills everything about your troubling behaviors—low self-esteem, weak boundaries between yourself and others, angry outbursts, etc. Once Raph had told his father anything he could think of, even Splinter was troubled by how destructive this personality had become. He advises him to talk to you about it since this isn’t something to ignore.

At first, Raph is hesitant to ask you about it, not trying to intrude on your personal life. But when he thinks that since you’re his s/o, and that something terrible is happening to you, your privacy no longer matters until he knows your safe. However, he doesn’t even get the chance to ask about it when you suddenly pour your heart out to him.

Your father is narcissistic? What? He’s confused at first. Is that the reason why you have so many negative traits? He’ll comfort you and promise to make things right, but the moment you’re gone, he’ll run to Donnie and ask for cons to having a narcissistic family member. Donnie will obviously ask why he wants to know. Raph will have to explain your situation to have the nerd list why you shouldn’t stay with your father.

He won’t ask you if you want to get away from him. He’s already doing that for you. Pack your bags and everything, and out of that place you go. He’ll make sure you get away without any complications, and no one was going to get in his way.

Recovery is one of his top priorities now. He works to get you back on your feet and have more confidence in your life. If your father tries to ruin that, you can bet my ass he’ll pay him a personal visit to keep him away.

He’ll beat himself up that he didn’t notice your fucked up relationship with your father. Aren’t fathers supposed to protect their daughters, not tear them down to make themselves look good? Knowing why you have a hard time with anger and self-esteem, his patience had increased and didn’t get as frustrated as he did before.

His protectiveness also grows, but luckily, he has brothers to keep him from being overbearing. He is more sensitive to talking about your father, and he secretly hopes you see Master Splinter as your new father figure.

Donatello

We all know that Donnie saw the signs before you even told him. He didn’t say anything because he wanted you to speak to him on your terms. Knowing what it feels like being pressured for an answer, he’s not going to put you in that position. Of course, he doesn’t know what’s happening precisely since you never come to the lair physically hurt or upset, so he is continually fretting over why you have these symptoms.

When you end calmly telling him that you found out that your father was a narcissist, it all pieced together for him. He’ll stare at you dumbly before apologizing to you for not realizing that the primary source of your problems was from a family member. You’ll have to reassure him that it wasn’t anyone’s fault, seeing that not even you knew that your father was the one making your life harder. At least Donnie could help you properly now that he knows what the issue was.

He’ll let you have options on what you can do. If you live with your father, he will suggest moving out and living in your own home, stay with a family member more appropriate to care for you, or you can stay with his family.

Donnie will explain the situation to them in the most professional way possible and say that it was better this way for your mental and physical stability. The turtles and Splinter adore you, so they will insist you stay with them.

Being the hacker that he is, he will “advise” your father not to contact you, or Donnie will share their private information and sell their belongings. If you’re ever upset that you don’t have a father in your life anymore, he will tell you to look at Master Splinter as your new father figure.

He won’t be your therapist since he knows it’ll get personal, but he does go on the hunt for the best possible ones and suggest the best treatments for optimal recovery.

He brings himself down a lot for not figuring out why you struggled so much with anxiety and self-esteem, and he looks to you for comfort. He does it by giving you affection and little gifts that he makes.

He’ll be mindful speaking about your experience with narcissistic abuse and has his ways of helping you regain your confidence and anxiety. He’s determined to give you the support you need to proudly stand on your feet and not worry about some guy tearing you down to make himself feel better.

Michelangelo

Oh lord, this sweet angel. Any symptoms of narcissistic abuse will fly right over his head despite being naturally being in tune with people’s emotions. Sure, he will shut down any negative thing you say about yourself in a heartbeat and give lots of encouragement when you doubt yourself, but it doesn't pop up in his mind how frequent it happens since he’s always moving forward and not stopping to think about it.

Mikey won’t think about it until you say something. Then he’ll give you this confused look. He has no idea what happens when you have a close association with a narcissist, so you both take this moment to go Donnie and get a small lesson of Narcissistic Victim Syndrome.

He will have no words to say, because what? At this point, he’s kicking himself for being so stupid and not seeing that there was a source to your constant doubts and lack of confidence. Donnie will give him some advice on how to handle this situation, and he will go with it, even if he doesn’t understand what was said.

Cue him timidly asking if you want to live with him, so you no longer have to deal with the prick you call a father. If you say no, then he’ll tell you to live somewhere else and not have your father be a part of your life anymore. If you do agree, he will be so excited to have you close by nearly 24/7. Mikey will help you move your stuff in and store away things you believe you won’t need.

Mikey will sit with Master Splinter and ask questions similar to those he gave to Donnie because we know how to genius works. He’s been told the scientific part of the abuse, not the emotional. He knows his father will help him give you the best support you need and was proven right that the old rat gave fantastic advice.

Now that he is more aware that something had happened between you and your father, he can easily spot a symptom that shows from a mile away. Getting angry? Gives you something to laugh at instead. Doubting yourself? He’ll be the confidence you lack. This turtle loves you dearly and will do everything he takes to make it up to you and help you be the best you can be. His brothers will be super impressed about how tentative he is when it comes to taking care of you.

Keeping your father out of your life won’t be a big deal to him since Mikey has three older brothers to do that for him because he wants to focus on you, not him, but if he manages to get past to them all, he’ll personally see to it that he never does again.

His affection will surprisingly remain as it was before. However, there will be a slight change he goes about it. He’s more observant and will purposely send compliments that will boost your self-esteem. This turtle is the King of Compliments™, so he won’t have any trouble giving you any.

Tagging: @brightlotusmoon @confused629 @whygz @kokokatsworld @supershiny-raven @coulrofilia-sexuell

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tmngoose · 4 years

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Nice Words: a Turtle Tots Drabble

Based on my headcanon. I’m sure there’s some errors, but w/e. It’s almost 3am :A! 1,632 word count. G-Rated. Tags include: sibling squabbles, sad feelings, happy endings, and hurt/comfort? Read it under the cut! (Once I get my Ao3 up and running it’s all over for y’all) :U

It was late in the afternoon when Splinter had finished making himself a cup of tea. As he placed Ol' Skelly back onto the stovetop, his ears pricked towards the kitchen's entrance, where he could distinctly hear the pitter-patter of feet tottering down the hallway, followed by a series of sharp whispers. "Boys," Splinter addressed, "Didn't I tell you four that you could only have your snacks after you tidied up your bedrooms?" It wouldn't have been the first time his turtle-children attempted to sneak into the snack cabinet and reward themselves for a job half-done. "U-Um, actually, it's just us three," Mikey answered meekly. Splinter raised a brow, "Three?" He turned around and spotted Raph, Leo, and Mikey huddled together in the doorway, their expressions mixed. "Where's Purple?" Raph pushed Leo forward, earning a scowl from his younger brother, "Leo and Donnie were fighting again, and then Donnie ran off somewhere!" "Tattle-tale," Leo grumbled, folding his arms with a huff. Splinter sighed, "Blue? I thought we talked about using our nice words towards each other?" He knelt before Leo, who fidgeted under his father's attention. "But I did!" Leo's passionate claim wavered. He guiltily stared down at his feet, "Well, I mean, I did at first. But he started it!" The slider's fire returned, only quelled by Splinter, who pressed a finger up to his mouth. "That's not important," Splinter said, "What's important now is finding your brother and setting things right." "But, we looked everywhere for him!" Mikey whimpered, tears threatening to spill from his watery eyes. Raph began counting off on his fingers, "We searched the bathroom, all of our bedrooms and the living room! I even looked inside your chair!" "I still think he could've flushed himself down the toilet," Leo mumbled to himself, earning another look of disapproval from Splinter. "Then, it sounds like you three have a lot of backtracking to do!" Splinter patted Mikey's shell and took a moment to dry the box turtle's tears with his sleeve. "But worry not, my sons, for I will help you." -x- What Splinter had promised was a half-truth. While his boys double-checked their bedrooms, Splinter took his cup of tea into the living room. He could keep an eye out for Donnie while also keeping an eye on his favorite TV show. Splinter shook his head upon discovering the state of disarray the living room was left in from Raph, Leo, and Mikey’s frantic search for Donnie. He decided he'd make the boys sort out the rest of the living room after supper. Splinter fixed the cushions of his armchair, made himself comfortable, sipped his tea, and then twirled the remote control between his fingers. Splinter's thumb hovered over the power button. Just before he could click it, there came a strange sound from close-by. Sniffle... It was a soft, sad sound that made Splinter's ears twitch. He listened carefully and heard nothing. He shrugged, pointed the remote at the projector screen, and- Sniff... sniffle... - there it was again! If Splinter was right, the noise was coming from beneath him? He slid out of his seat and checked underneath the armchair. "Purple?" Splinter blinked. "What are you doing under there?" Donnie turned away from Splinter, burrowing further into his hoodie until he eventually disappeared into his shell. He sniffled again, and Splinter frowned. "Surely, you can't be comfy down there?" Splinter held out his hand. "Why not come out and join me? We can watch Scorpion Treadmill together!" Splinter only needed to wait a few more seconds before he felt Donnie's hand lightly take ahold of his own. Splinter's fingers curled around the tiny hand and carefully helped Donnie out from under the recliner. Splinter kept his word. He plopped back down in his seat and placed Donnie on his lap, who was still tucked inside his shell. Splinter turned on the TV and sipped his tea once more, setting the cup and saucer down on Donnie's back. By the time the first commercial break came on, Donnie finally spoke up from within his shell, "Leo said he wished Laceface was his brother instead of me." Splinter looked down at Donnie and lowered the volume on the TV, "Laceface? Oh! You mean the football you boys are always breaking things with? Now, why would Blue say something like that?" "Because he's a big meanie," Donnie murmured sourly. "Now, Purple. What did we say about using our nice words towards each other?" "Well, he is!" Donnie's head popped out of his shell, his eyes puffy from crying. "Me 'n Mikey were playing Jupiter Jim when Leo and Raph crashed our game with their stupid Sports Ball game!" "Uh-huh," Splinter nodded, sipping his tea. "And then Leo's trick pass caused Raph to break our moon buggy!" "You don't say?" "So I told Leo he owed us a new moon buggy, but he said it wasn't his fault our moon buggy broke so easily cuz it's cardboard! So then I said to him that it was his fault because it was his dum-dum trick pass that caused Raph to break our moon buggy in the first place! And then Leo said his trick pass wasn't dumb, and that I was the dumb one!" Donnie went on. Splinter could see where all this was going. Indeed, it was a messy situation, though thankfully, he knew of a way to fix it. When Donnie finished recounting his side of the story, the young turtle was just as hurt when he had first hid under Splinter's armchair. Donnie lifted his glasses out of the way so he could wipe his eyes and swallowed the sob caught in his throat. "Who am I kidding?" Donnie's shoulders sagged with defeat. "They'd probably care more about Laceface than me." Splinter began rubbing Donnie's back, hoping to calm him down, "You know that's not true. Your brothers care very much about you, including Blue!" "Nuh-uh," Donnie shook his head in disbelief. "Yuh-huh," Splinter answered, "Why, surely you must've heard them tearing this room apart while they were looking for you?" "Well, yeah..." "Did you know they're still looking for you?" Splinter continued, "Why, they've been so worried about you!" "R-Really?" "Really," Splinter petted the top of Donnie's head. "Even Leo?" "Only one way to find out," Splinter cleared his throat, "BOYS!" Splinter's bellow echoed off the walls of the lair. Donnie could hear his siblings clumsily stumble over each other as they piled into the living room, though none of them dared to approach Splinter's armchair, and with good reason too: they still hadn't found Donnie. "Yeah, Pops?" Raph asked hesitantly. "Have you boys found Purple yet?" Splinter winked down at Donnie and signaled for him to stay quiet. Donnie, unsure of what Splinter was scheming, obediently covered his mouth with both of his hands. "Um, n-no, not yet," Mikey spoke up with a sad tremor in his throat. "Oh, that's too bad," Splinter lamented, "I suppose I will have to find you a new brother, huh? Maybe that football you boys love so much?" He mused aloud. "What?!" Raph gasped, "Replace Donnie?!" "With Laceface?!" Leo sounded just as upset as Raph and Mikey, which surprised Donnie. "You can't do that!" Leo protested. "Why not?" Splinter questioned. "Didn't you say you'd rather have Laceface as your brother anyway?" "W-Well, yeah, but... b-but...," Leo grew quiet, and then burst out crying; the weight of his guilt finally crashing down on him. "I don't want a football for a brother!! I d-didn't mean it when I said that! I want Donnie for a brother-," Leo's hiccuping stopped abruptly, "-wait a sec, how did you know I said that to Donnie?" "Because he told me," Splinter replied cheekily and held Donnie out over the side of his armchair for his brothers to see. "Donnie!!" Leo, Raph, and Mikey ran towards the soft-shell and tackled him out of Splinter's hands. They smothered Donnie in a great big heap on the floor; one could barely spot the soft-shell within the mess of arms as his brothers nuzzled him. At first, Donnie was uncomfortable. The hug was suffocating and almost unbearable until he noticed how happy and relieved his brothers were to have found him: including Leo. "I'm sorry, Donnie," apologized Leo, "I never meant any of it, honest!" "And I'm sorry too," Donnie gritted out, "B-but maybe you guys could st-stop squeezing me? M-My oxygen levels..." He squeaked helplessly. Splinter smiled, satisfied with their touching reunion, "I hope you all learned a valuable lesson today." "We sure did!" Raph beamed, "Donnie's the best at hide-and-seek!" "What? No!" Splinter shook his head, "Well, maybe, but that's not it! Sometimes, when we're angry, we say things to each other that we do not mean. That is why it is super-duper important to always use our nice words towards each other!" To the four turtle tots, their father spoke words of wisdom. Their eyes glistened in awe and respect. "Now then!" Splinter's tender fatherly disposition suddenly turned agitated and firm, "Why were you boys playing Jupiter Jim and Sports Ball in the first place?! Didn't I tell you to clean your rooms before my shows started?!" The turtle brothers yelped and scrambled out of the living room before Splinter could punish any of them. "Quick, Donnie!" Raph cried out, "Tell us your secret ways of hide-and-seek!" He held Donnie high above his head, leading the gang to his bedroom. "Yeah!" Leo agreed, "Dad can't punish us if he can't find us!" The turtle tots giggled and shrieked as they carried on their mischief elsewhere within the lair. Splinter shook his head. He reached for his tea and found that the last few sips had gone cold. Though that hardly mattered, for the laughter of his children warmed him all the same.

#rottmnt #turtle tots #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt splinter #leo #donnie #splinter #raph #mikey #rottmnt fic #laceface #lol gotta include laceface

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hawkinshellfire · 3 years

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Chapter 9 - You Are In Love

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love

Saturday morning, Hopper wakes when the sun streaming in through his window forces his eyes open. He'd hardly slept an hour, tossing in turning for the majority of the night and he groans while burying his face beneath his pillow.

After attempting to fall back asleep for nearly an hour, he gives up and carries himself to the kitchen to fetch a cup of coffee. His parents are already enjoying breakfast at the table and wish him good morning while he pours coffee from the already brewed pot into a mug. His mother teases him about his bed head and jokes that he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks before he excuses himself to enjoy his drink in the privacy of his own bedroom.

He downs the coffee in four large gulps stretches his arms up over his head with a dramatic sigh and forces himself to put on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel. He knew what he had to do this morning, he just wasn't sure how it was going to go.

He decides to walk, procrastinating while also enjoying the crispness of the morning air. What if she wouldn't listen to him? She would. Something in him just told him that she would. But, what if she wasn't there?

Hopper crosses the street and marches through the field behind Joyce's house, where he spots her sitting on the platform of their childhood hangout spot. A semi-tree house located in one of the trees that had been struck by lightning in Joyce's backyard during a massive storm years prior.

She's too focused on the novel she's reading to notice him enter the yard and he watches her with a smile. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple white tee, she had her hair pinned back and her glasses on while her feet dangled from the low platform and her back rested against the splintered trunk of the semi-fallen tree.

He knew that after their argument outside the diner last night, he would find her here. This had always been a safe place for Joyce. When things got heated at home or whenever she needed time to herself, this is where she came. Part of him feels bad that today, he's the reason she's seeking a safe place but he came here to apologize and he has no intention of ever abandoning their friendship or making her doubt him ever again.

As kids, he and Joyce would spend hours playing in this tree. It wasn't anything fancy, just a few wood planks nailed to the trunk to create a floor and walls, but they loved it. As teens, they stopped spending as much time out here, instead opting to hang out near the lake or go driving around town, but Hopper knew that Joyce came out here without him and that what was once their imaginary pirate ship had become her sanctuary. Once, when he came to pick her up for a movie and found her drawing in the very spot she was now sitting in, he joked that it looked like she was royalty sitting in her castle, just waiting for him to come by and rescue her. She replied by making it clear that she wasn't the type of girl that needed rescuing, but the "Castle" comment stuck and Hopper had been referring to it as Castle Joyce ever since.

As he crosses the yard, he steps on and snaps a twig which forces her to withdraw her nose from her book and look up at him. She watches as he crosses the yard and easily swings himself onto the platform but doesn't say a word.

Plopping himself down next to her, Hopper playfully nudges her shoulder and smiles, "truce?"

"Truce."

They sit in a comfortable silence, side-by-side, staring out over the yard. He hadn't expected her to welcome him up so easily and isn't sure how to proceed with his apology.

"Look-" he begins, "I'm sor-"

"I'm sorry," she says at the same time.

"Wait, what on earth are you sorry for?" he asks. He turns his body towards her and watches as she closes her book and folds her hands in her lap.

"Last night. Just everything," she sighs. "I should be more understanding of you spending time with Chrissy. Maybe I can try and be nicer to her."

"I don't think that's going to be necessary," he replies.

She stares at him quizzically.

"Chrissy and I broke up," he explains.

"Oh Hop. I'm so sorry."

"Are you really though?" he teases. He's desperate to keep the conversation light and push through to his apology.

"No," she admits. "But I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," he reassures her, reaching out to clasp her hand in his. "It wasn't right between us. She didn't make me happy."

"Look," he adds, "I'm so sorry that I let my relationship with Chrissy come between us. It was stupid of me and I will never, ever, let something like that happen again. You're so important to me Joyce and I need you to know that I feel horrible about everything that's happened. I was a total ass and I'll completely understand if you can't forgive me."

"Hopper," she says softly but he continues rambling.

"Our friendship is the most important thing in the world to me and I would love it if we could go back to being best friends?" he asks.

"You're an idiot," she giggles.

"Is that an 'I forgive you even though you're an idiot' smile, or a 'get out of here, you're an idiot' smile?"

"The first one," she nods. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

He notices her shiver and wraps her arms around her torso and instinctively slips his flannel off and passes it to her. Wordlessly, she accepts and puts it on. She's swimming in it, the arms dangle on the other side of her wrists and the body encompasses her nearly to the knees. He's smitten. She looks adorable tiny in his shirt, sending a fleet of butterflies lose in his stomach. Doing his best to ignore the way seeing her in his shirt makes him feel, he stretches out and cracks his knuckles before folding his hands in his lap.

Wrapped in his shirt, Joyce breathes in and is instantly comforted. The shirt smells like him and while it keeps her physically warm, it brings back a sense of home that she hadn't felt in weeks. She felt safe with Hopper. He was the one person who remained still and calm as the world stormed around her and for a moment, she truly feared she'd lost him.

She'd done a lot of thinking last night. About her. Them. What she wanted. She'd decided long before Hopper entered the yard that she wanted to apologize to him. She knew she didn't need to, she'd done nothing outwardly wrong. But she cared for him and she hadn't exactly made it easy for him to date Chrissy.

As for what he said last night, she wasn't sure she believed he actually wanted her. Convinced that it was a conversation fuelled by lust and the desire to have what he couldn't have, she decides to let his words fall on deaf ears and pretend that the conversation never happened. Unless he brought it up, she was content to mend the bridges that bound their friendship and forget about the confessions and the daunting reality of what could-have-been.

Is she curious to know what a romantic relationship with Hopper would be like? Absolutely. But if the last few weeks taught her anything, it was that she needed him in her life and she wasn't willing to risk their friendship for something that wasn't a sure thing.

If he brought it up, she would discuss it with him. Tell him that despite the tingling feeling that skirted across her bare skin every time they touched, she thinks they're better off as friends, even if a large part of her knows they'd be better off as more. Lucky for her, he doesn't bring it up and she doesn't have to navigate the word mine and let him down easily without showing that it's her fear and insecurity causing her to have to do so.

For now, she was happy with this. Just them. Joyce and Hopper.

She slides closer to him and leans on his shoulder, drawing in a deep breath now that her world seemed whole again.

"Do you have plans today?" he asks.

"Not really," she admits, "I was just going to hang out here, avoid my dad."

"Joyce."

"It's fine. He was drinking last night so he wasn't in the greatest mood today."

"Where's your mom this weekend?"

"Visiting my uncle," she says.

"Let's go," he encourages, hopping down effortlessly from his seat on the plank. He didn't always know what to say when Joyce didn't want to talk about what was going on at home, but he knew he could do the next best thing and offer up a distraction.

"Where are we going?" she calls down to him. Slowly, she climbs down the platform until she reaches the lawn. She wasn't nearly as tall or coordinated as Hopper and never trusted herself to jump down.

"Celebratory milkshakes," he explains.

"What on earth are we celebrating?" she asks. He just broke up with Chrissy and in the past, he was notorious for pouting for days after a breakup. Today he seemed to be in an extremely chipper mood, leaving her to wonder if he cared for Chrissy as much as she thought he did.

"Life," he laughs, raising his arms in a dramatic shrug. He holds up his car keys and lets them dangle off his thumb while he waits for her to catch up.

"Can I drive?" she asks while they walk towards where his car is parked on the road.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?!" she whines.

"Because we're celebrating life Joy, we need to be alive to celebrate life," he smirks.

"I'm a great driver!" she exclaims.

"Just get in," he tells her, "I promise you can drive later."

Joyce and Hopper settle down at their usual booth at the diner and immediately order two chocolate milkshakes. While they wait for their drinks, he notices Joyce staring at a table across the aisle. Two girls are huddled together, whispering and giggling in their direction. Chrissy's friends.

"Hey," he says, placing his hand down on the table beside hers. "Ignore them."

"We don't have to stay here?" she suggests, "we can go-"

"Nowhere. We're not going anywhere."

"But-"

"But nothing. Ignore them. Let them whisper. Who cares what they think anyway. You and I were friends, doing things like this, long before Chrissy came into the picture. If they have a problem with us spending time together, they can confront us directly and tell us." His voice carries and Joyce knows that the girls are aware they're talking about them and she blushes.

"Hop. I wouldn't want a rumour to ruin your reputation," she admits shyly.

"I know I may have been a little lost these past few weeks, but I'm back Joyce. It's me. I could care less about what anyone thinks, let alone Chrissy's minions. And I never want you to worry about what anyone thinks, all that matters is this," he gestures between them with his index finger, "me and you."

"Besides, what's happening here has nothing to do with what happened between Chrissy and me so let's just enjoy our shakes and pretend we're the only people here, alright?"

"Alright," she nods, reaching for his hand. She places her palm over it and gently squeezes his wrist and just like that, the tension slips from his jaw because he knows she's alright.

Joyce grabs the milkshake the waitress just placed on the table between them and plops a straw into the drink. She doesn't ask what he means when he says "what's happening here" for fear that he'll tell her she knows exactly what he means. Instead, she takes a sip of her drink and smiles across the table at him.

"You know I'll always be there for you, right?" he asks out of nowhere.

"Where is this coming from?"

"I just… need you to know. I'll always be here Joyce. Even if you think I'm not. I'm here."

His words strike a chord and her entire body stills. It was an unspoken agreement they had, but hearing him say the words out loud, it meant something to her. It was such a personal sentiment and she knew he meant it with his entire heart. Part of her knew that even when he strayed with Chrissy, he would have been there had she needed him. She thought she would - need him, but surprised herself and found that she was stronger than she once believed herself to be. Still, it was nice to know that despite everything he would always be in her corner.

Rather than let him see how much his words mean to her, she smirks over at him and says, "God, you're such a sap today."

"Maybe I'm just trying to be a nice guy," he laughs.

"You're always a nice guy," she reminds him.

"Now who's being a sap," he teases.

Beneath the table, her knee collides with his and she draws back in her seat. Once she's regained her posture and sits back up, he moves his knee to touch hers again. She studies his face but he doesn't acknowledge his action. Instead, he begins to tell her a story about Benny tripping over one of the drill cones at practice the week before and they end up talking about Benny's new love interest. Hopper fills Joyce in on how the pair met at her party, though he awkwardly stumbles through the part about the party, carefully selecting his words about the evening in an attempt to not ruffle any feathers.

They talk and laugh and as the afternoon sun dips down and streams in through the diner windows, their knees are pressed together beneath the table. They order dinner and Hopper whines when Joyce steals more than half the fries on his plate after insisting she didn't want to order any. To get her back, he takes a massive bite out of her burger when she isn't looking but immediately feels guilty and insists that she let him cover the bill and buy dessert.

"I guess we should get going," he says after the bill is paid and there is no longer any natural light outside.

"You go ahead," she says, "I might stick around a while longer."

"Joyce," he says softly, "you can come over if you want?"

"It's fine. Really," she insists.

"Tell you what, why don't we hang out a while longer and then I'll drive you home?"

"You don't have to stick around Hop. I'll be fine to walk home."

"Have to, don't you mean get to?"

"You're ridiculous," she laughs.

"That may be true, but it made you smile so I'm going to call this a win."

Nearly two hours and another round of milkshakes later, Hopper pulls into Joyce's driveway to drop her off at home.

He follows her out of the car and up onto the front steps.

"Are we good Joyce?"

Their day was exactly like it had been pre-Chrissy, but he needed to be sure that things were moving forward and today wasn't some twist of fate one-off.

"We're good, Hop."

"You know you're my best friend, right?" he asks as he pulls her in for a side hug. They stay like that for a moment, wrapped up in one another; a long-awaited reacquaintance after their feud.

"You're mine too," she smiles when she finally pulls away. He watches as she climbs the steps of her porch and waves, swallowing the lump in his throat as the realization that he was in love with his best friend washes over him.

He stammers back to his car and climbs into the front seat but doesn't put the keys in the ignition. Kicking his boots up onto the dashboard, he leans back and watches as the lights in Joyce's house slowly flicker to life as she makes her way to her bedroom. When the light in the front-facing window glows, he allows himself to sigh and close his eyes. He would wait out here for a while until he was certain that her father wasn't going to lose it on Joyce for being out all day. Sitting in his parked car was something he'd gotten in the habit of doing a few years prior, after receiving a call the moment he got home from dropping Joyce off asking him to come back and get her.

Now, on days when he knew her father was in a bad mood, he waited at least thirty minutes - just in case. He's not sure she knows that he does it, and there has never been a time when she needed him but doesn't need her to know; he does it because he cares too much to ever let anything happen to her.

Eyes pinched shut, feet kicked up, he replays the moment over and over in his mind. The moment where he watched her walk away and realized he was terribly in love with her. Unlike the last time this thought entered his mind, he doesn't need to process or overthink it. He just knows, he's in love with her.

Head-over-heels in love with his best friend. Perfect.

Inside, Joyce manages to make it to her bedroom without running into anyone else and changes into a pair of fresh pyjamas. She completely forgot she was wearing Hopper's flannel the entire time they were at the diner and suddenly the gossiping between Chrissy's friends makes more sense. It wasn't abnormal for Hopper to give her one of his shirts or jackets, just like it wasn't strange for one of them to grab the hand of the other, but she understood how it looked to everyone else.

Once in her pyjamas, she slips her arms back into the oversized sleeves of the flannel and crawls into bed. She pulls her arms around her chest and smiles as she closes her eyes and begins to fall asleep, surrounded by the warmth of her comforter and the familiar scent of her best friend's flannel.

Today was a good day. The first day in weeks that felt normal. The only problem was she wasn't sure she could just forget about everything that happened between her and Hopper. After discovering she was interested in him romantically, she wasn't sure that she could ever go back to looking at their relationship the same way. Especially after his lust-filled confession telling her he felt the same way.

She knows they don't have to forget about it all; that they could face the facts head-on and deal with the ramifications but still she isn't sure that she trusts his feelings are true. Plus, his friends idolized Hopper for dating someone like Chrissy, what would people think if he started dating someone like her?

In the eyes of their peers, she knew someone like her would never be good enough for someone like him and she knew that despite his desire not to be, Hopper was the type of person who cares about what other people thought. His entire relationship with Chrissy had proved that.

What she wants is to see what they can be, but she can't be selfish and in the long run she believes that what she wants doesn't matter.

In the end, she decides to do nothing because in the back of her mind there's a nagging feeling that Hopper will change his mind and leave her again. Everyone was always abandoning her, she just lived life assuming that Hopper wasn't everyone. She refused to be let down and didn't want to find out that the man she put on a pedestal above everyone else was no different from everyone else that walked in and out of her life.

Over the next few days everything seems to fall back to normal. Aside from the glares Joyce receives from Chrissy and her minions and the few classmates that stop to greet Joyce in the hall, it was as if the entire feud between her and Hopper never happened. Joyce still enjoyed her lunch with Josie and Eli, but she and Hopper walked to and from class together and he drove her home after school. She hadn't spoken to Lonnie since that night she bailed on him at the diner but assumed he'd

he'd given up on pursuing her after he heard the rumours that were circulating about Hopper leaving Chrissy for her.

The rumours weren't true, but that didn't make them less of a hot topic. Joyce was approached by several people she'd never spoken to before and asked if it was true that she was dating Hopper. She told each of them the same thing; she wasn't. They were just friends. Even Josie had asked her if something was going on between them. Unlike her other classmates, Josie was the only one who seemed to believe Joyce when she claimed that nothing was going on.

Everything was back to normal, with the only noticeable difference being the shift in energy between her and Hopper. She knows it has something to do with the unresolved feelings they both silently agreed to sweep under the rug and she isn't sure how to deal with it. Things between them seemed tense at times, like each of them was waiting for the other to make a move or mention the unmentionable. Neither broke.

She wasn't willing to risk their fragile relationship and he wasn't one to overstep when it came to Joyce. They were at an impasse and neither of them was ready to make the moves necessary to move forward, so instead, they sat in a stalemate, just friends.

On Friday afternoon after final period, Joyce finds Hopper waiting for her at her locker.

He leans on the locker next to hers and watches while she puts her books away with a massive grin.

"Okay, what?" she asks, slamming the locker door shut.

"What?" he shrugs innocently.

"You have a look on your face."

"A look?"

"Yes. It's like you're up to no good."

"I'm always up to no good," he boasts. "But I thought of the perfect thing for us to do tonight."

"Well," she waits for him to continue, "what is it?"

"You and I are going to that fair a couple of towns over," he beams.

"A fair?"

"Yeah! You know, the one that's on all the flyers outside the gym."

"I don't know…"

"Oh c'mon Joyce! It'll be fun. I hear that a lot of people are going. Plus, if you ask me really nicely, I might even let you drive."

"Fine. I'll go. But I'm not asking nicely and you're letting me drive."

"You drive a hard bargain, Horowitz," he smiles. "I've got to get to practice but I'll pick you up at 7. Be ready!" he calls out to her on his way towards the locker room.

True to his word, Hopper shows up to pick Joyce up at 7 o'clock on the dot. He notices her mom's car in the driveway, something he hadn't seen in weeks and Joyce uses the front door instead of the window when she jogs out to meet him in her leather jacket and a dark pair of jeans. She immediately walks around the car to the driver's side and waits for Hopper to remove the keys and climb out of the car. Reluctantly, he does, clucking his tongue while he passes her the keys and begins on his way to the passenger's side.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive?" he asks. She tosses her hair into a messy low ponytail and adjusts his seat before climbing into the cabin and putting the keys in the ignition.

"I'm sure," she flashes him a smile.

"Alright, just… go slow while you back out."

"I wasn't planning on flooring it," she rolls her eyes.

The drive to the fair takes twice as long as it should but Hopper doesn't mind one bit. It's adorable how focused Joyce looks when she drives and he has a full view of the determined smirk plastered on her face since her hair is pinned back. He coaches her through the difficult turns and only panics once when she nearly runs a stop sign in a suburb near her house.

When they pull into the packed gravel parking lot on the fairgrounds, Joyce proudly shuts the car off and hands him the keys.

"Told you we'd make it here in one piece."

"You were right," he smiles.

"You can drive us home though," she tells him.

"How nice of you to let me drive my own car home," he jokes. "Seriously though, you're getting much better at driving."

"I have a good teacher," she tells him, making him blush.

The fairgrounds are composed of the largest fields Joyce has ever seen. On one side, the open space is filled with stalls and vendors selling produce and products, on the other, the night sky is being illuminated by a sea of colours flashing off of different temporary rides. She'd heard about this fair, it was a local thing that this town did yearly and something that the town of Hawkins was trying to start doing as an annual tradition; though she'd read in the papers that Hawkins planned on holding their fair in the summer instead of the spring.

The grounds are packed with people of all ages. Children tug on their parent's hands and giggle as they munch on large clouds of cotton candy while many of her classmates are in line for the rides and games. She and Hopper begin to make their way through the crowd as they look around.

Stride for stride, she walks next to him through the sea of unfamiliar faces. Hopper waves to a few people and asks Joyce what she wants to do first.

"Honestly, I have no idea. There's so much to do."

"Why don't we start with that?" his eyes light up when he looks in the direction of a giant bell. Joyce watches as the man standing next to it raises a comically large hammer and drops it down on a target, causing a small medallion to raise up the post and ring the bell.

"Yeah, right," she laughs. "Have you seen me? I'm not exactly the strongest person here," she informs him.

"Come on. I'll win you a prize," he tells her. He extends his palm and leads her through the crowd towards the game. She spots Lonnie with a group of his friends on the other side of it and considers waving, but he looks away when he notices her and Hopper.

Stupid rumours, Joyce thinks to herself.

Hopper pays the man at the booth and picks up the giant hammer with a massive grin. He manages to ring the bell on his second try and the booth attendant hands him a small brown bear with the tiniest green bow in its chest.

Joyce watches from the sidelines and pretends not to notice the bulge in his arms when he raises the hammer above his head and swings.

"Here," he says when he walks back over to her. "This is for you."

Joyce accepts the bear and hugs it against her chest. "Thank you," she blushes.

"What are you going to call him?" he asks her.

They begin to walk towards the rides and the back of their palms brush as he swings his arm between them, sending a jolt through him. He notices she withdrawals her hand and a deep red has settled in across her cheeks. She must have felt it too. Testing his theory, he walks closer to her and lets the back of his hand graze against hers, this time for a few seconds longer. She flinches but doesn't pull away and for a moment he considers taking her hand in his. He doesn't. It's too big of a risk and he doesn't want her to think he doesn't care about their friendship.

What he doesn't know is that a huge part of her wants him to take her hand and make the first move.

"Chester," she answers him. Holding up the bear, she nods, satisfied with her name choice.

"Chester?" he repeats back. "Why Chester?"

"I don't know, I just like the name. If I ever get a dog I think I'll name him Chester."

"It's a good choice then," he beams.

"So, where to next?" she asks. She puts Chester in her bag so that she doesn't lose him.

"You choose."

"Well, I know you hate rides so…"

"I don't hate them," he clarifies, "they just make me woozy."

"Hop, you've hated them since we were kids."

"Fine. I hate them. But I wouldn't hate that," he says, pointing to a funhouse with a neon sign that reads "Tunnel of Love."

"Oh god," she groans, "that is soooo cheesy."

"Doesn't make it any less fun. Come on," he waves for her to follow him.

"Maybe you'll change your mind and we can go on one ride after?"

"Doubtful."

"Please?"

"We'll see."

The tunnel of love was a two-story playground made out of pink and red plastic pieces. The ceiling of the first floor was covered in strange oval-shaped light bulbs in white and red that flashed in time with the music that played over the small speakers lining the floor.

Hopper purchases a handful of tickets and cashes two of them in exchange for hand stamps allowing both him and Joyce access to the attraction.

They begin with the mirror maze and Joyce nearly doubles over with laughter when Hopper walks face-first into a mirror and stumbles over. They take their time going through the rest, hands extended forward after Hopper complains that his coach will kill him if he gives himself a concussion in a funhouse mirror maze.

Joyce takes the lead and guides them to the second obstacle, swinging bean bags that are suspended from the ceiling.

"This is much more my thing," he brags. With a swift right hook, he swings the first bag out of the way for Joyce and then does the same for himself and trails after her.

Joyce bats at the second bag but it hardly moves and it remains in her path.

"Allow me," he says, smacking the thing clear out of the way.

"For the record, I only did that so you would feel better about the mirror thing," she lies.

"Sure," he winks.

The rest of the first floor is fun and simple, leaving Joyce and Hopper to joke around while they work through each of the mazes. As they approach the end, a large sign painted on the wall tells them that the Tunnel of Love is next. Up ahead, Joyce can see a large spinning tunnel that's been painted in a pale shade of pink.

"I don't get the whole tunnel of love thing, why not just call it a tunnel?" she asks.

"It's part of the theme. I guess some people buy into all that crap," he responds.

"Did you know that according to Greek mythology, soul mates are real?" she asks.

"You don't believe that, do you?"

"No. But I read a book on it once. According to the legend, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Apparently, Zeus feared their power and split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves."

"That's insane."

"I agree. Imagine thinking there's someone out there that's meant for you," she laughs. "People who believe in things like that are total suckers. I'm not even sure I believe in love."

"Yeah," Hopper says, studying her face. He swallows hard and nods, but says nothing else. Instead, he watches as she continues through the tunnel of love, completely oblivious to the way he's staring after her. Yeah, he thinks. I don't believe in it either.

"Come on!" Hopper insists, tugging Joyce towards a row of arcade games.

"What are we doing, aren't these kid's games?"

"No, they're just games," he insists. "I'll win you something. Which one do you want?"

He points into a claw machine that is filled with small plastic spheres, each containing a different prize. Joyce peers over and ducks beneath his shoulder so she can get a better look at the items inside the machine.

"You don't have to waste your money on this," she informs him.

"It's not a waste of money, I want to win something for you. Choose."

She scans across the lot of prizes and smiles, secretly she adored how adamant he was on winning something for her. She already had the bear, she didn't need anything else, but she knows how stubborn he is and tells him to aim for a small plastic ring. The ring was a cheap silver and had a small blue gemstone stuck in the center, but it struck Joyce as simple and beautiful.

Four coins and several frustrated sighs later, Hopper pounds on the machine with his fist and curses. "Damn it!"

"Hey," she smiles up at him, placing her palm on his arm reassuringly, "it's okay."

"It's not okay. The machine totally ripped us off!"

"There's always next time," she tells him. "Plus, it was just fun watching you play."

"I'm sorry Joyce. I really wanted to win that little ring for you."

"What the heck am I going to do with some silly little arcade ring anyways? Besides, you already won me a bear and I love it."

"You do?"

"Of course I do. You won it for me," she grins. "Now, what do you say we find some snacks?"

"I say lead the way."

Walking away from the arcade booth, Joyce and Hopper practically walk face-first into Chrissy and her friends who are hovered around the exit. In an absolute panic, Hopper grabs Joyce's hand and tugs her towards the nearest ride with no line; the Ferris wheel. She follows without question, knowing how awkward he must feel. The rumours at school still hadn't calmed down and despite the two of them knowing that Hopper didn't leave Chrissy for Joyce, everyone else believed it which further alienated Joyce. Somehow, it made Hopper even more popular amongst his classmates. Apparently, the only thing cooler than dating a senior was breaking up with a senior.

From what Joyce had seen, Hopper was doing what he always did and ignoring the rumours but she also noticed he'd been avoiding Chrissy. Whenever they saw her in the hall he quickly ducked and looked the other way. When she asked him why he was avoiding Chrissy, he told her that Chrissy was livid with him and he didn't want to cause a public scene.

The two of them step onto the next available ride car and are fastened in with a metal lap bar.

"You alright?" she says. It's a statement, not a question and Hopper purses his lips.

"Yup."

She doesn't ask what that means; mostly, for selfish reasons. If she knew he missed Chrissy, she'd feel guilty for the things she was thinking. But he didn't care and now here he was by her side and the thoughts plaguing her mind were within reach, making them far more frightening than they were when he was unavailable to her.

During the first rotation they sit in awkward yet comfortable silence. Joyce takes in the full view of the fair and is in awe. It was much prettier from above than from the ground. She can feel how tense Hopper is next to her and does her best to remain light.

"I thought you hated rides," Joyce remarks, trying to lighten the mood.

"I do."

"Then why…?"

"Go on one with you? You said you wanted to. I just wanted to make you happy, see you smile."

"You do?" she whispers.

Suddenly, she forgets that Chrissy was the catalyst for this adventure. There is no one else. It's just the two of them, sitting on a tiny metal bench and spinning around in circles.

"I like your smile," he blushes. He's aware that her hand is dangerously close to his on the safety bar, so he rocks the car forward and uses the motion as an excuse to brush his pinky against hers.

"Oh."

"If that's alright with you?" The words roll off his tongue in a whispered tone, and he's leaning in close enough that she can practically feel them. His eyes scan hers, his palm settles on top of hers and uses his thumb to angle her head up towards his. He locks eyes with her and leans in but the ride lurches forward and tugs Joyce back. She reaches for Hopper's hand out of fear and links their fingers.

When the ride steadies and resumes, she attempts to pull her hand away but Hopper clutches onto it.

He speaks in a hurry, the sound of his voice, gruff and hushed, "Joyce."

"I-" he whispers, he closes the distance between them, lips hovering just above her ear, his body pressed against hers as much as the tiny plastic seat will allow.

"Yes," she breathes.

"You consider us friends, don't you?"

"Obviously," she responds.

"But…"

"But," she whispers, her lips ghosting over his with extreme patience that requires all of her attention.

He's about to give in and allow his lips to capture hers in a searing kiss only to be interrupted by the older man running the ride who yells, "next."

He lifts the bar and allows Joyce and Hopper to step off the ride.

The moment she steps off the ride, she sees Josie excitedly waving at her. Her friend calls her over but Joyce only has eyes for Hopper and turns to him before she acknowledges Josie.

"To be continued?" he asks.

She swallows hard and nods.

"Go on," he tells her, "we'll find each other later."

Joyce watches as Hopper wanders off to find his football buddies and then joins Josie for a few more rides. The entire time, she replays their moment on the Ferris wheel over in her mind. He was going to kiss her and she was going to let him. No, she wasn't just going to let him, she wanted him to. She still wanted him to.

She thinks about the way he spoke in a low and purposeful voice before they parted ways. Did he mean what she thought he meant when he said to be continued?

You keep his shirt

He keeps his word

And for once, you let go

Of your fears and your ghosts

#Jopper #stranger things #au #highschool au #Multichapter

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limeblood-exe · 4 years

Text

A Singular, Bloody Mattress (part 2)

So much fluff, you guys, it’s tooth-rutting. And a lil bit of Raph angst, too because why not. Ok, but it’s also mainly fluff. Enjoy!

He can’t sleep. It’s three in the morning, and Raph lies completely awake, staring at the cracks in his bedroom ceiling.

Out of all of his brothers, Raph has no problem sleeping. Mikey might have the occasional bad dream or he might stay awake playing video games or doing art, but for the most part Mikey has taken to heart Raph’s lectures about needing to get a good amount of sleep each night. “It’s important for a growing, young turtle,” he had explained. However, he wishes that his other younger brothers would have taken that advice.

Donnie and Leo are Raph’s headaches when it comes to making sure all of his brothers are taking care of themselves. Donnie has an even worse habit of staying up too late, but it’s mostly because he gets so absorbed with a new project that time passes without his knowing. It’s common for Raph to find Donnie either passed out on his worktable in his lab, or stumbling into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. But while his younger brother does stay up late occasionally, he enjoys sleep probably the most out of any of them, so it’s easy for Raph to convince his brother to sleep (convincing, as in Raph mentions the time to Donnie, who replies with “Wow, would you look at that,” and then promptly sleeps for the next twelve hours).

And Leo just doesn’t sleep sometimes. Honestly, just even knowing the fact that Leo has insomnia was actually discovered from pure luck. Raph didn’t even know his brother was having problems with sleep until he accidentally came across him on his way to the bathroom just hanging out in the family room, binging some Jupiter Jim films.

He tried to talk to Leo about it, but every instance he brought it up his brother had an annoying ability of dodging the topic. Finally, with Raph having to resort to the “I’m gonna tell Splinter” card, he had admitted that sometimes he has issues falling asleep, but that it wasn’t anything to worry about, and he would let them know if it got worse. So Raph had agreed to let it go with that promise in mind. That didn’t stop him from staying up a couple of nights spying on his brother just to make sure the problem didn’t, in fact, get worse. He never saw Leo leave his room those nights, so he either must have gotten through his sleep drought or knew Raph was watching him and used his portals to secretly escape his big brother’s view.

He doesn’t know which one it was, to be honest.

And he feels he should have done more, Raph comes to realize, because this whole “not being able to sleep” thing is just awful. The stinging sensation in his eyes, the restlessness of both mind and body. He can’t understand how Leo would try to hide this instead of just asking them for help. He has no idea how long Leo might have been suffering from insomnia, but one night and already Raph feels like splitting his bed in half, despairing that sleep has slipped from his clutches.

But he's no fool, he knows the cause of why he is not currently sleeping.

It's because of the fact that his aforementioned brother is currently holed up in their infirmary.

No matter what he tries, Raph can’t stop thinking about what had happened just a couple days prior. They had come so close, too close, to losing their brother. Not just when they were cornered by their enemies; as soon as they got back home, it was a fight to keep their brother alive, restoring his lost blood with blood donations from Mikey, who argued that he wanted to do it, he wanted to feel helpful, and stitching together torn skin and shell.

He was fine, though. Damned lucky, their father had said, but he managed to pull through.

And yeah, they cried when he opened his eyes for the first time since they got back home, but that doesn’t matter. What mattered was that their team had not been reduced to three.

Leo is gonna be fine, things are heading back to normal; so how come Raph can't stop thinking about how useless he felt during the entire ordeal?

Sitting up abruptly, Raph decides that staring at the ceiling isn't gonna help him get any sleep.

He leaves his room quietly so as to not disturb any of his brothers, who desperately need the rest just as much as he does, and departs for the kitchen. He's thirsty, so it seems like a reasonable first destination.

He walks mindlessly, his mind swallowed by too many thoughts.

Water sounds nice, maybe that’s what I need. A glass of cool water, and I’ll head back to bed, Raph thought to himself.

Entering the room, he turns on the light, looking for the fridge hoping to find-

This is not the kitchen. An easy discovery, what with the lack of kitchen essentials and instead he sees humming machines, a curtain, an occupied bed-

Ah, he’s in the infirmary. Without thinking, his feet had unconsciously brought him here.

He immediately slaps the light switch off, worried he woke his brother from his needed rest. He hadn’t meant to come in here; he didn't want to be in here. Not right now. He’s supposed to be trying to keep his mind off things.

He can just go back, he didn’t hear his brother wake up; didn’t hear a groan or even a peep, so there would be no harm in him just walking away.

But he might as well check that Leo is asleep as he’s already here and all; he does have a track record of hiding any of his sleep issues.

Raph pads to the side of the bed, spotting his brother cocooned in a hill of blankets. The only parts of him he clearly can see are his head and his arm that sticks out, dangling over the edge of the bed. Raph lays his hand on Leo’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his steady and constant breathing. Raph can't see them right now, but he's painfully aware of the large swath of bandages that cover his middle.

Content that his brother is indeed asleep, he grasps Leo's dangling arm (noting he has one of Donnie’s techy bracelets strapped to his wrist, most likely monitoring his vitals) in his gentle hold, and positions it back in his warm bundle. Tucking his brother in, he smiles softly before he makes his way to the kitchen to grab something to drink.

"Raph?" a soft voice mumbles before he even takes a single step, and he definitely did not give a little yell of surprise, no matter what Leo says.

"Leo! Sorry," Raph u-turns instantly and puts a hand on his brother's head, patting it gently like a parent would to a kid. "I didn’t wake you, did I?"

"You did," Leo gives a jaw-cracking yawn before he continues, talking into his pillow, Raph straining his ears to hear him, "but it’s fine. I feel like I’ve been asleep for too long anyway."

"That’s pretty normal, and you’re gonna have to get used to it. It’s going to be awhile before you’re back to normal, buddy," And the events of that night once again rush to the forefront of Raph's mind. He looks to the ground, unable to look his brother in the eye, afraid that Leo will see through his eyes and read his thoughts.

"Huh? What is it?" Leo looks more alert due to the seriousness his face had suddenly morphed to, struggling weakly in his blankets to lean up against his pillow.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Leo squints up at him with a disapproving look. Like he’s gonna believe that for a second.

“Now, why don’t I believe that? Are you lying to me, bro?”

"No-it’s just-I’m not lying to you,” Deflating under Leo’s sharp glare, Raph nervously rubs his hand together, gathering the courage to speak.

“…Back then, I couldn't do anything. I'm supposed to be the leader, Leo, and I did nothing." His face scrunches, and his hands clenching together in a show of anger. "And I'm… I'm sorry, Leo. I’m sorry that I couldn't protect you."

Raph would expect his brother to do many things after his revelation; make a joke to lighten the mood, ignore the apology altogether, saying something along the lines of “please don’t embarrass yourself by talking any longer”, etc. He did not expect for his brother to grab his wrist suddenly and pull him close to the edge of the bed, and with one large motion, wraps his arms around Raph’s neck. If he wasn’t too shocked, he would have admonished Leo for moving around so much, since he just got mortally wounded, but the hug feels so good at the moment that all he can do, all he wants to do, is hug his brother back.

“I don’t blame you Raph, you don’t have to ever apologize for something like this,” Leo comforts. His voice is gentle and kind and so unlike Leo’s usual carefree tone that Raph lays one of his hands on the back of Leo’s head checking for a fever.

Not finding one, he buries his face in his younger brother’s shoulder, and Raph has to choke down the sudden lump in his throat to softly mutter, “But I should’ve done, you know, more. I’m the eldest, it’s my job to protect you guys. And at that moment, I failed. And it’s not just that, I couldn’t come up with a plan. My mind felt so gooey and slow and I just-because of that I put you at serious risk, Leo. If you couldn’t-if you didn’t-”

“But I did. And stop putting all the blame on yourself,” Leo adds. “If you wanna play the blame-game, then I think I gotchu beat.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. We wouldn’t have even been in that situation in the first place had I never gotten hurt. I let my guard down, Raph, and I paid the price for it. And so did all of you.”

“That’s not fair, Leo. You couldn’t have known that those paper guys would have been any more dangerous than the ones we’ve already fought before,” Raph pulls apart their hug, going into his lecturing mode. “You can’t blame yourself for everything that happened.”

“But that’s what I’m saying. It was a sucky situation, so you can’t blame yourself as our leader when things go bad, because it’s not just on you. We’re a team, and we’ll fail together as a team.”

While bleak sounding, it sparks an understanding in Raph.

We’ll fail together as a team.

He understands where Leo is coming from. He always thought that the pressure of failing would be on his shoulders alone; he’s the leader, and a good leader takes responsibility. A good leader would know better than to lead their team to their deaths.

But a good leader would also know that you can’t win every fight. Raph doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility, he might never be able to, but he can know where he stands when it does.

He’s lost this argument, so Raph just slowly nods. He still feels like he could’ve done better, and he knows it might take awhile before he accepts what Leo had to say, but he feels relieved, the burden of feeling so alone lifted from his shoulders.

Raph, thickly says, "Thank you, Leo."

"Anytime, brother." Leo replies. As Raph rubs at his eyes, clearing away beading tears, Leo adds, "Now, pay up."

"What? What do you mean?" Raph asks, confused. Leo sticks out his quivering lips, his eyes pouting upwards. Leo raises his arms towards Raph, his hands making a grabby motion in the air.

"Carry me."

"What? No! Why would I do that?"

“Because I’m bored! I’ve been lying here for, what has it been, three days?”

“Just two, actually.”

“My point being! I need a change of scenery.”

“Uhh, but you’ve been sleeping for the past couple of days? How can the scenery bother you when you're not awake to see it. Besides, you’re still recovering.”

"Oh, come on! That's not fair, and you know it. I'm healing just fine," Leo doesn't give up and increases his efforts to be held, mimicking a petulant child demanding attention. "Please, Raphie, I don't like the infirmary."

"No."

"Pleaaaase-"

"Alright, fine!"

Leo laughs victoriously as Raph leans down to pick up his brother. Leo wraps his arms around Raph's broad neck, and his big brother puts his arms behind Leo's back and beneath his knees, making sure to do so around his blanket as well. He doesn’t want his brother getting cold, after all.

Straightening his back, Raph glares disapprovingly at Leo, who just smiles happily in return, snuggling his cheek against the dip between Raph's plastron and his neck.

"Where am I going exactly?"

"Anywhere is fine."

"Uh-huh."

Raph is convinced that Leo made a big fuss just to be held, but who is he to deny his brothers want they want. After all, it wasn’t just Raph that went through a tough ordeal. If Leo wants to be held, it's the least Raph can do.

With the choice being left to Raph, he decides that the family room is the perfect spot and makes his way there.

Leo begins to doze in his hold, snuggling close to the heat of his brother.

Why would he need a change of scenery if he was just gonna fall asleep anyway.

Raph doesn't have it in him to wake him back up, so he sits cross-legged on the floor as soon as he arrives and holds his breathing brother close.

This was not how Raph thought his night was gonna go, with Leo asleep in his lap and the night continuing to tick by. Content regardless, Raph rests his chin on top Leo's head, appreciating the living movements of his brother: his breaths, his sleepy snorts, his leg twitches, they're all proof that he's alive.

Being up so late and having the comfort of his younger sibling close, Raph feels himself starting to doze off as well, imagining the swell of sleep that would finally overcome him. Ready for the bliss of sleep to take him, the thundering of distant footsteps startles him to full alert mode. With the frantic, but familiar, steps coming closer Raph looks to see none other than Donnie rounding the doorway, whipping his head around in search of something. Spotting the two of them on the floor, Donnie rushes forward.

"Is Leo ok?!" Donnie asks.

Taken aback by the urgency in Donnie’s voice, he says, "Uhh, yeah. He’s fine.” Looking down at his dozing brother as if to confirm his own statement, he looks back to Donnie as Leo sleepily mutters into his chest. “He's sleeping right now, so if you could be quiet, Donald." Raph slightly scolds Donnie for his loud shout.

"Wha-excuse me!" Donnie, offended by his brother's admonishment, stares incredulously at his only older brother. "I just thought, you know, that something must've happened, Raphael, with my tech informing me that one of Leo's stats changed. I had gone to check on him when, to my surprise, he is nowhere to be found."

Oh. That would explain Donnie’s panic. The tech bracelet on Leo’s wrist was meant to monitor his well-being, so of course Donnie would have had any sort of change being directly messaged to his own wrist-band, alerting him if anything were to happen. That must have included his sleep cycle, and with Leo awake long enough to have a conversation with Raph, he was awake long enough for Donnie to be alerted.

"Oh, my bad... Sorry, Donnie, I didn't know."

Donnie breathes a deep sigh, the act calming himself and he regains a more collected composure.

"It's fine, I was just worried that he did something stupid again, like trying to use the bathroom on his own when he can't even stand properly." He takes in the sight of his two brothers cuddling on the floor together, fully registering what's before him. "Um, but might I ask what you two are doing?"

"I couldn't sleep, and I think Leo was getting bored of the infirmary." He slightly shrugs his shoulders. "So, here we are."

"Bored of the infirmary? Does he not understand the whole concept of 'I nearly died and I should take it easy?'" Donnie crosses his arms, "I swear, sometimes I wonder where his head can be. He be just as bad as Mikey sometimes-"

Donnie pauses, leering suspiciously at Raph.

"Wait, what did you mean you couldn't sleep?"

"It means that I couldn't sleep, Donnie." That was before his talk with Leo, and as much as he loves his heart-to-hearts with his brothers, he doesn't feel it in him to do one more for tonight. "And besides, that was way earlier. I'm better now."

His brother just mm-hm's to himself. Donnie then joins Raph on the floor, sitting next to his side with his legs sprawled out in front of him. A moment passes as Raph waits patiently for Donnie to speak first.

"Do you still want to talk about it? I'm up now, you might as well take advantage of having me all to yourself. Not many get the privilege of that, dear Raphael."

Raph gives a good natured eye-roll, but before he can give his own snarky response, someone beats him to the chase.

"Wow, conceited much?"

"Shut up. Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" Donnie asks at the same time Raph mumbles to himself, "Are you ever asleep?"

Leo slowly morphs his face into a smirk, then replies simply with a cheery "Nope."

He continues to say, "And how can I? You guys keep waking me up. For once I have the chance to get a full night's rest, and you guys are ruining it."

His brothers have no argument to counter him with, so Leo counts that as a small victory.

“Well, speaking of sleep, I’m gonna go back to bed now that I know Leo's not gonna crack his head open on the toilet or something,” Donnie stands, stretching his arms above his head. “What are you gonna do?”

“Me and Leo are good here,” Raph says.

“You’re gonna stay like that? On the floor? Call me crazy, but that doesn't sound very comfortable, Raph.”

“Yeah, I know. But we’re already here, sooo.”

Donnie gives a thoughtful hmm, hand to his chin in a contemplating manner. After sometime, he raises a pointed finger to the ceiling, eyes bright with newfound determination.

“You know what, I actually have a brilliant idea. Hang tight, I’ll be right back.”

Curious as to what Donnie has planned, Raph complies with Donnie's order. He watches the descending back of his brother and wonders just what he has gotten himself into tonight. He grows impatient when minutes tick by, and even Leo starts to huff in annoyance, the waiting anticipation keeping him up.

Ten minutes later, Donnie reappears with a sleepy Mikey in tow, both loaded with pillows and blankets, which are so stacked it's nearly blocking their view.

"You didn't have to wake him up, Donnie."

Mikey just shakes his head, setting down his load by Raph’s feet.

"It's fine, Raph, no biggie. Dee told me we were gonna have a sleepover in the family room," Mikey smiles through an obnoxious yawn, laying out the blankets (some, Raph notices, are from his own room) to form a giant pile on the floor. "And I thought, ‘Oh, man! We haven’t had one in so long!’ It sounded nice, especially after everything that’s happened."

Now that Mikey mentioned it, they haven’t done this for a long time. They’ve been so busy dealing with the whole mutant outbreak that sleepovers kind of took a back-burner to their list of priorities.

Raph, with Leo in his arms, mumbling something he can't quite make out, moves to stand a distance away, making space for Donnie and Mikey as they prepare the rest of the room.

Donnie and Mikey make quick work, busying themselves with preparing a blanket fort by using nearby objects to hold up the blankets, ranging from Splinter's recliner to using the projector as a tether for the fort's ceiling. And since this just so happens to be the genius and artist of the family, the fort they create is a mix of both their technical and artistic skills.

The fort, while not only being huge, would put most other blanket forts to shame in just style alone.

Mikey suspends numerous low-lit strings of light on the ceiling, giving the fort a warm glow while Donnie works to construct the cushions and blankets on the floor to maximize their comfort. Throwing in a couple of stuffed animals along with some glow sticks they found in Raph's room, their blanket fort is complete.

Donnie grabs one end of a blanket, acting as a curtain for the entryway, while Mikey grabs the other and simultaneously they pull them back to reveal the inside of their new masterpiece with a bow. Raph “aah’s” at their display, entranced with the sight.

Raph lays Leo in the middle of the fort, who sinks delightfully into the cottony bliss, exhaustion overtaking his body which has reached its limits for staying awake for so long. Mikey leaps into the fort and lands next to Leo, giving a mirthful shout as he immediately grabs one of the blankets covering his sleeping brother and bundles himself next to Leo, snuggling into his shoulder and wrapping his arms around one of his big brother’s.

“Be careful, Mikey,” Raph warns. Mikey would never intentionally hurt one of them, but Raph thinks it safe to at least warn his brother that Leo is still recovering from an injury.

“I know!"

Leo gives a little huff, turning his face towards Mikey and blowing a quick gust of air into his face. Mikey makes a face, grunting, "Ew, your breath stinks," while Leo replies with, "Some of us are trying to sleep, Miguel."

Mikey giggles into Leo's shoulder as he says, "Sorry," but he doesn't sound all that reproachful.

Raph is next to settle down, laying on Leo's other side, grabbing Donnie's wrist, who was distracted admiring his and Mikey’s handiwork, and pulling him down with him. Having lost his own snuggle buddy to Mikey, Donnie has become his next victim, squashed between Raph's massive arms. But he only gives minor complaints, so Raph doesn't feel all that bad.

The combination of soothing lights from the ceiling and the glow sticks and the cushions beneath them lull the turtles into a comfortable daze. Next to him, Raph can hear the sleeping forms of his youngest brothers, cuddled together with their limbs entangled.

"You know, next time you have problems with sleeping, you can always come to one of us. You always help us when we can't sleep; of course, we'd want to do the same for you," Donnie gently mentions. Patting Raph on the arm, he adds for good measure, "You're our big brother, but we can still help you."

We're a team.

Surrounded by the warmth of his family, knowing that everything has finally gone back to normal, Raph smiles.

"Yeah, I know, Donnie."

Donnie hums, accepting his answer, and in a couple of minutes his own breathes become slow and even, deep in sleep.

His brothers, all of them, are right here, safe and sound. Raph still might have self-doubts as a leader and as a brother, but for now, he'll let go of his troubles and join his brothers in the blissful land of slumber.

In no time at all, Raph feels the dregs of sleep consume his mind, falling asleep with a peaceful smiling gracing his lips.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #so much fluff #some angst #my writing

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kibybun · 4 years

Note

What if little reader from the hawks fic ended up becoming a demon who is going to drag him to bleep because he murdered her? Bonus if you have Leave Luanne song playing in the background.

Ooo! I really like that idea and the song is really good! I didnt really know how to incorporate it into the story but I did try!

This is a continuation of my Hawks and little reader post that you can read here!

Yandere Hawks and Demon/Little reader

Tw: Yandere, death, non-con/rape, pedophilia, necrophilia

Enjoy!

🧸He holds you close and tightly in his arms while the two of you sit in a unfamiliar place. He was crying and you didnt like it when daddy cried. You hold him tighter and try to comfort him.

🧸Then you felt the piercing pain in your back.

🧸You can feel your favorite sweater start to get soaked with your blood as tears fill you eyes. How could he do this to you? You thought he loved you, he promised he did.

🧸You call out for him in disbelief and betrayal. Why would he do this? You didnt have time to think as you slowly slip into unconsciousness.

🧸You wake up again. Your still in this unfamiliar place but you feel different. You look around and find yourself laying on the ground, lifeless.

🧸Then the splitting pain set in.

🧸Not only did you feel a sharp pain in your back but the splintering pain slicing through your head. It didnt help that you heard to different voices arguing.

🧸Both sounded like you but were completely different. One sounded like you did before you met Hawks, strong and mature, while the second one sounded like you did while he had you trapped, childish and pure.

🧸The two parts of you were fighting over dominance. They were arguing and taking control of your body. It was a game of tug a war between them and they didnt care how it was inflicting so much pain on you.

🧸But you just layed there, protecting your once body and suffering, hoping they'll figure this out.

🧸Time passed and the two voices of you started to get along. It was a strange dynamic, one taking care of the other, but it worked. It also help put your mind at ease as you watched over your decaying body.

🧸Then he showed up and the pain started again.

🧸The younger you was so happy and was calling out to him while the older you was cussing him out and screaming at him with pure anger.

🧸You didnt understand why they were acting so conflicted, you barely remember what happened. All you know is that you knew him then you died. You also picked up all the little hints the voices in your head talked about. You had a very strong relationship with him, whether that be good in one person's eyes or bad in another.

🧸You watched him with dizzy vision as they fight harder. His big wings flap gently as he lands close to your corpse. He looks happy.

🧸Tou watch as he grabs your body and holds you close, despite the rot and decay. You can feel his embrace even if it wasnt necessarily you he was holding. It's hard to tell if you're repulsed or over joyed.

🧸He mumbles sweet nothings and apologies in your ear as he starts to walk off with your body. You stumble and try to follow as the feeling of being carried throws you off. It also doesnt help that one voice is crying and begging to go with him while the other tries to pull you away.

🧸You manage to catch up before he takes flight. You grab on tight to his jacket as you leave the ground behind. He seems to notice it but doesnt do anything.

🧸You fall to the ground as he lands in front of abandoned buildings. You follow him into one of the buildings as the voices fight even harder.

🧸He carries you to a bathroom and starts to bathe you. Again, you cant decide whether to feel repulsed or excited as the voices in your head drown out what he's saying. He then dries and dresses you before putting you on a couch and plays a movie.

🧸You feel as if you could recite all the words by heart but beyond annoyed that it was put on.

🧸Hawks then sits with you and holds you close as the movie plays. As the movie continues you start to regain memories.

🧸You remember the games you used to play as the move droned on in the background. You also remember how he hurt and tortured you as he played the movie in the background.

🧸You grow uncomfortable as his hand travels up your thigh and as he scoots closer to you.

🧸Suddenly both voices shut up.

🧸You watch in horror as he continues to advance on you. You hate the way his hands are touching you, grabbing you, pulling you closer.

🧸You start to cry as he strips you of your clothes. You dont know how to stop him, neither do the voices. They seem to be crying as well.

🧸The two of you were now fully undressed and you feel him. It hurts so bad. You have to make him stop, you need to make him stop.

🧸You start to try and pry him off of your corpse but when that doesnt work you start to claw at his skin.

🧸You know he can feel you. He flinches as your nails draw blood but that only encourages him to go faster. The you collapse.

🧸The definitive snap of a bone sent you to the ground crying in agony as he finishes. You hear him shift and chuckle as he speaks. It was so mocking without him trying.

🧸You will make him pay.

🧸You layed there for a bit, letting the pain die down before you moved. You crawled towards where he layed with your body. You sat next to yourself for a second before saying goodbye.

🧸You crawled closer to that disgusting excuse for a man and grabbed him close. You were ready to go now.

🧸The ground cracks as an invisible force starts to drag you under. Hawks wakes up and panics, unsure of what's happening.

🧸You cling on tighter as he tries to crawl away. You wouldnt let him escape, just like how he didnt let you.

🧸You were close to the crack now. It was so warm. The younger voice in your head was crying and begging you to release him. As the two of you get closer to the crack the younger voice fades. Probably because its connected to him.

🧸Finally, the two of you fall into the fiery abyss. He'll suffer until he dies now. He'll suffer even more when he does die.

🧸He deserves it so badly. And you'll be there every step of the way, being the one inflicting his torment of course.

Kiby~💚

#bnha hawks #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo tamaki #mha hawks #my hero academia keigo takami #bnha tw #bnha headcanons #bnha #tw #trigger warning #bnha keigo #keigo x reader #mha keigo takami #yandere hawks #yandere keigo #yandere x reader #yandere

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ladyfantasy98 · 4 years

Text

Flyers and Favors, Part 2!

Hello! First, thank-you for the wonderful response to my Danny Phantom fanfic, Flyers and Favors! I’m really honored that so many people have liked and reblogged -- some of them twice!

So while I had intended it to be a one-shot, inspiration struck, and I’ve added a second part! With a possible third part to come at a later date.

Chapter 2 deals with Dani battling Skulker when he comes to bother Danny during study time. It ended up longer and a bit more serious than I intended, but I think it’s still humorous and a good read (if I do say so myself ;) ).

Let me know what you think! I’d love to hear your thoughts on it!

You can read this second part either below the cut, or on my Fanfiction.net account. Happy Reading!

Danielle knew the instant a ghost showed up. A shiver ran through her body and she gasped, releasing a small blue puff of air.

With a grin, she jumped up from her brown wooden desk and transformed, letting two white lights wash over her body and change her into her ghost form, Dani Phantom. Her shoulder-length black hair (layered with triangle cuts in the back) became white, and a black-and-white jumpsuit replaced her purple pajama shorts and button-up top.

She turned intangible and flew up through the ceiling of her bedroom - created by siphoning off sections of the Fenton family's lab - until she reached her older cousin/brother/creator Danny's room. She poked her head through his floor just in time to see him finish his own transformation into Danny Phantom.

"Hey!" Dani called, startling him and making him jump up into the air. Hovering there, Danny looked over at her.

"What's up, Elle?" he asked. Ever since she had moved in with the Fentons a year ago as their adopted daughter, the family had taken to calling her Elle, Ellie, or Annie to differentiate between her and Danny. Dani didn't mind, but she still introduced herself to new people as Dani-with-an-I, and she would always be Dani Phantom.

"I got this one," she answered Danny. "Go back to studying."

"But - "

"I can handle whoever it is, I promise," Dani insisted. "That's the whole reason you went into the Ghost Zone the other day, right? To make sure they'd leave you alone so you could study?"

"Well, yeah, but -"

"Then study. These exams are really important to you, I know."

Danny lowered himself until he was back on the floor. He glanced over at his desk, which was covered with pencils, textbooks, and loose-leaf paper filled with scientific equations. "I mean...this can wait. You have homework, too, I know. I'll just stay up and -"

She narrowed her glowing green eyes - the same as Danny's - at him. "Danny. Please. My Pre-Calc homework is not going to determine whether I graduate or get into my dream college program this week. Just let me. Handle. The ghost."

Danny stared at her for a moment, looking torn, before he finally sighed. Twin flashes of light raced up his body, and his eyes turned blue, his white hair - cut shorter and closer to his head than when he was 14 - became black, and his own black and white jumpsuit disappeared to reveal a NASA T-shirt and a pair of blue boxers.

"Alright, you win," he conceded. "Just...be careful. And you'll get me if you need help?"

Dani rolled her eyes. "Yes, Dad, I promise. Now go do you homework!"

Danny laughed. "Alright, Mom." But he waited and watched as Dani pulled out her phone and quickly shot off a text to Valerie, saying the exact same thing she'd told Danny, before turning intangible again and flying through the roof.

Bursting into the night air, Dani took a second to enjoy the rush of flight, before putting herself into a fighting mindset. Looking around at the houses, clearly illuminated by the giant green Fenton Works sign attached to the Fentons' home, Dani couldn't see any signs of a recent ghost attack. No broken windows, no smoking buildings, no screaming people.

But she'd definitely sensed a ghost earlier. Maybe it was something small? Or it was still in the lab? Now that she thought about it, she should have just checked out the lab first, especially since it was right next to her bedroom. But she'd wanted to make sure Danny didn't go after the ghost himself. He'd been super stressed over his final AP Chem and AP Physics tests this week and she had wanted to do him a favor by taking care of any ghostly threats that came through.

Not to mention it would show him and the rest of Team Phantom that she was mature and skilled enough to protect Amity without any of them breathing down her neck. Honestly, she loved her cousin, and Sam and Tucker and Valerie, but sometimes they were way too overprotective. They acted like she hadn't spent over a year living on her own, fighting ghosts and for her own survival. And they had been worse lately; their impending collegehood must have been making them overly nostalgic and worried and adult-like.

Dani was about to head back inside, when she gasped, her Ghost Sense alerting her once again. Then, sensing something coming towards her from behind, she dodged to the left - just in time to avoid the grappling hook/claw that zipped by her. It landed in the sidewalk down below, cracking the concrete.

Dani spun around, following the mechanical line up from the hook to the ghost who had fired it. When she saw who it was, she groaned.

"Oh, come on, Skulker? Really? Do you know what time it is?" she demanded.

"Ah, the Ghost Girl. Nice to see you. I'd been planning on hunting your sire, but a fight with you should warm me up nicely!" Skulker exclaimed. He pressed a button on his suit, and the grappling hook shot up from the sidewalk and returned to Skulker with a hissing sound. "And, yes, I know it's late. My apologies. Believe it or not, it's morning right now in the Ghost Zone."

Dani rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Floating higher until she was eye level with Skulker, she prepared her own ecto-blast, green light coiling around her hand. "Also, how many times do I have to tell you, Danny is my cousin, or maybe my brother. He's not my sire. That makes him sound like a medieval king or something. It's weird."

Skulker chuckled. "You're more right than you know, child." Then, raising his arm to ready an ecto-energy cannon blast, he added, "Now, enough talk. Let the hunt begin!"

Danielle smirked. "You're on."

She took aim at the center of the robotic suit and launched her ecto-blast. Skulker simply dodged it, and fired his own attack. Danielle turned intangible and let the cannon fire pass right through her. Undeterred, Skulker launched a type of flaming arrow, burning with his signature green-blue fire.

I should probably move the fight away from the neighborhood so nothing gets too damaged, thought Dani. Dodging the small projectile and flying over near the park, she asked,

"Didn't you get the flyer?"

"Of course I got the flyer. The Ghost Child littered them all over my front lawn!" Skulker exclaimed, shooting out three more rockets from the launcher on his right shoulder.

"And, what, you just decided to ignore it? That's so not cool." Dani reached out her hand and encased the rockets in her ecto-energy, containing their explosions; smoke billowed within the green spheres as she lowered them to the ground.

Dani then flew towards the park, where there would be less people to hurt and less buildings to damage. Skulker chased after her, donning a pair of night-vision goggles, even though there were still street lamps in the park.

"I thought you guys were allies sometimes," Dani added, stopping in mid-air above one of the public fountains. She could hear the water gurgling slightly in its concrete bowl.

"Yes, when the fate of the Ghost Zone is at stake," Skulker answered. He hovered on the opposite side of the fountain, arm outstretched towards her. "The whelp failed to explain in his flyer how him failing a test would be the end of the world."

Dani narrowed her eyes at the hunter. "It'd be the end of his world," she told him. She held up both hands and formed two more ecto-blasts. "What's important to Danny is important to me, so I'm not gonna let you ruin this for him."

"How admirable." Skulker fired another blue laser at her, which she dodged. She released her ecto-blasts, hitting Skulker in the chest. He crashed into a nearby tree, breaking the poor plant in half. When Skulker remained on the ground, Dani hovered closer to him. Placing both hands on her hips, she said,

"You don't plan on following him to college, too, do you? 'Cause that would be even more uncool."

Skulker merely grinned at her from among the wood splinters. "But of course! Where the prey goes, the hunter goes. The whelp doesn't think he can shake me just by going to a different learning institution, does he? How foolish!"

Dani fired another ecto-blast at him. He yelled in pain as it hit, pounding him into the ground. Dani smirked as the dust settled. That oughta teach him.

Only to widen her eyes in surprise when she saw that Skulker was no longer on the ground. "Wha - ?"

A presence behind her. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see Skulker's grin before he backhanded her, sending her crashing into another tree. Dani groaned as the tree fell, sending a shock wave of pain up her body. Spitting out leaves, she gathered herself, then rose up into the sky.

"Alright, Skulker, not ba - aaahhh!" Dani screamed as a ghost-proof net wrapped around her, knocking her back onto the ground and sending bolts of electricity through her body. She was left panting and jittery once it passed.

"Haha, you underestimated me, didn't you, Ghost Girl?" Skulker crowed as he walked towards her, his metal boots crushing the grass underfoot.

Danielle scrunched her eyes in pain, before opening them and glaring at the ghost hunter. She wriggled in the net, frustration building as she failed to free herself.

Skulker picked up the net and Danielle, holding her as if she weighed nothing. She'd gotten a bit of a growth spurt once she'd turned fourteen, reaching Danny's old height, but Skulker was still much larger than she was. Well, his suit was, at least.

"You know," Skulker began, regarding her thoughtfully, "I've never understood why you cling to human traditions so much. You, Phantom, even Plasmius - you all plan and prepare for human lives, human futures, but why? You're ghosts. And sure, lots of my neighbors concoct plans for world domination - even I like the occasional vacation out in the human world. But ultimately, we all belong in the Zone. Even you three."

Dani blinked up at him, surprised by his sudden philosophical demeanor. Even as she huffed and struggled in the net, she couldn't help but agree with him. There were times - when she was flying, high above the earth, or slipping between buildings without a care for the laws of physics, or using her powers to fight ghosts intent on doing evil - she wondered why she wanted to be human. Why did she want to pretend to be an ordinary girl, when there were people like the Guys in White that would capture and dissect her and her cousin the first chance they got? Why should she hide herself in this world, when in the Ghost Zone no one cared that she was part human?

But then...

Then she remembered the look on Danny's face as he taught her how to use her powers to help people. How excited he was to receive the acceptance letter from Amity University, contingent on his grades though it was. The joy and pride Danielle felt when Jack and Maddie welcomed her into their family, ghost powers and all. Going shopping with Jazz, and having her explain things like bras and periods. Hanging out with Tucker, Sam, Danny, and Valerie, listening to them joke around and plan for the future, even as they made Amity Park a safer place.

Dani sucked in a deep breath. "Skulker, you're right," she said. "We are half ghost."

Then, hoping she was right, she transformed. The white rings washed over her, her ghost side tucked away for now, leaving her in all her human glory. And - to her delight - as soon as she was human, Dani fell out of the net.

She landed on her feet, and smiled up at Skulker, who looked confounded. He must have forgotten to use the anti-halfa net instead, or perhaps, like usual, he had underestimated her.

"But we're also half human. And so we decide where we belong."

Mid-transformation, Dani jumped up and decked Skulker in the face. The ghost sailed to the left, gouging a trench into the earth as he landed. Before he could get up, Dani unhooked the mini-Fenton Thermos she always kept with her from around her waist and aimed it at the ghost. The thermos' opening shone brightly, its light sucking Skulker up into its metal confines.

"No! No! I'll get you for this, Ghost Girl! You and the whelp!" Skulker thundered, his words becoming quieter and more distorted as he disappeared into the thermos. Dani capped it and twisted firmly, sealing him inside.

The night became quiet once again. Dani surveyed the former battleground, pleased to see that the park had sustained little damage, outside of a few broken trees. Hooking the thermos back onto her belt, she rose into the air and headed home.

Danielle didn't know where she quite fit in yet - in town, in school, in life - but there was plenty of time for her to discover that. Right now, all she wanted was to stay by her family and friends' sides. And if the the price for that was battling a few ghosts and sticking them in Fenton thermoses - for at least six months, she thought gleefully, imagining Skulker's misery -

Well, then it was a price she would gladly pay.

20 notes · View notes

morphituu · 4 years

Text

Milagro

Chapter 18: Back to Santa Monica

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17

Nick’s poor attempt at muffling his own hiss went unnoticed when Callie gripped his hand with a hold that could challenge an Orc’s, her forehead coming to press against his paling knuckles, gritting her teeth through the pressure.

“I’m sorry, I know these are awful,” Dr. Sangui sympathized, her hands and eyes busy behind the screen of the thin cloth draped between Callie’s knees.

“Mhm-” Callie tried to remain composed, but Nick could see the bands of muscle straining along the entire length of her legs propped up in the stirrups.

“Okay, aaand,” her doctor made quick work of her hands, followed by a few metallic clicks. “We’re done,”

Callie exhaled, her knees slapping together, whispering a soft, shy apology to Nick when she caught him shaking the blood back into his hand. He shrugged it off so she wouldn’t dwell, helping her sit up.

“Do you two have your bags packed yet?” Dr. Sangui asked after dropping the speculum into the sink and rolling towards them.

Nick snorted. “No,”

Callie flicked his hand.

“Well I think you may wanna keep them in the car, honestly. You’re about 70% effaced,” she grinned at Callie, instantly recognizing the excitement rising in her big eyes.

“What’s that?” Nick asked, feeling a little excluded from all the smiles.

“She could go into labor any day now,”

Nick’s poise flickered through a wide range of emotions just as his ears did, blindly reaching for Callie’s thigh to squeeze, but she was sure that although he would go on to tell her it was for moral support on her part, he was actually supporting himself so he didn’t fall forward onto his face.

“So he’s full term?” he cracked, grimacing at the betrayal of his voice.

“Right now his growth equates to a human baby at 36 weeks, at that stage we don’t stop labor if it comes. Callie’s body is showing all the right signs of labor preparation so I feel comfortable saying yes, he’s full term and you should have a little boy in your arms any day now,” her smile had started to break through her words, and by the time she finished, Callie was pressing her fingers over her own wide smile.

“Any day?” Nick repeated, the telling placement of his hand on his chest alerting Callie that he was leaning into breathlessness

“Yes sir, so pack those bags,” she scolded. “If you don’t have anymore questions or concerns I can get your paperwork organized and send you two on your way to get all the sleep you can.”

“Yes!” Callie clasped her hands together. “What secrets do you have to start labor?”

“I wish I had some,” Sangui frowned. “And while we’re at it, I'd like to go over our plan once more,”

“My natural birth plan?”

Nick’s glance up at her was one of annoyance; he didn’t understand why she had to be so hard-headed about this.

“Your back-up plan,”

“Assuming I even need one because I’m going to push him out,” Callie was frolicsome as ever, but her refusal to even consider the possibility of anything going south was worrisome. How would she handle the labor if it did go south?

“Seeing you wholeheartedly believing in yourself thrills me, but I need to hear you say you understand the importance of it, please . I don’t want any confusion if the time comes,”

Callie exhaled, choosing to look away from her doctors hardened, and seasoned stare. “I understand,” she established clearly, her mood having plummeted a little. “When can I cancel the c-section?”

“The second Leo is out,” she promised. “And a little personal advice from a mother of five,”

Nick’s eyes widened. Five!?

“Walk. Walk as much as you can and let gravity do its job,”

“That’s it?” Callie muttered in disbelief.

Sangui nodded enthusiastically. “Tried and true method of evicting those little things,”

Callie looked at Nick who in turn shrugged. “Of all things,”

“Just please, whatever you do, don’t use castor oil. I cannot stand to see another baby go to ICU,” Dr. Sangui pleaded, the familiar grief lining her expression telling all the heartache she’d endured from such unfortunate events.

“I’ve heard horror stories,” Callie agreed, and once again Nick was left in the dark as he waited for some kind of hint to be provided

“Listen to them. Okay! Let me go grab your papers and you two can get going!” She chimed happily, patting Nick’s shoulder as she passed and left the room.

Callie always giggled when Nick took it upon himself to help pull her shorts up her legs, tugging them up her thighs once she was standing despite her half-hearted attempts at shoving him away. When it came to the spandex band that covered the curve of her low stomach, he’d step away knowing she liked to fold it over a particular way.

The black tank-top was pulled down, already fanning her cheeks and tossing her hair off her shoulders. A deep flush dusted her freckled cheeks, one the brisk AC didn’t even harpen.

Nick gazed up at her, admiring. Like the first time he’d looked up at a police officer at six years old, eyes wide and sparkling in wonder, he now found himself stuck in the same predicament, unable to pull from the force keeping him there. This time however, he gravitated towards it instead of ducking shyly behind his father.

His strong hands came to hold her thigh, his forehead resting there also.

It had started to hit him while basking under the warm beams of her smile; the realization that soon his world that revolved around Callie would shift, and Leo would become the center.

There were times he’d wake from hazy dreams of finding Callie sitting in their bed, whispering in mystifying talk down at her arms where little hands grabbed blindly, and where even softer cries would bring him towards her despite feeling fear heavy his feet.

Nick took a composing breath, his hands squeezing her thigh steadily. Callie’s own came to caress the back of his head and neck, but with her global stomach in the way, she couldn’t lean down to kiss him into a tranquil state. She hoped her touch gliding across his wide shoulders that expanded with deep inhales did something for him like his comforting aura so often did for her when she found herself in a panic.

Now that the power of his night terrors were failing to do harm, they seemed to switch their assault on his wakefulness the closer they came to meeting Leo. The fluttering excitement was stirring, slowly simmering into fear, the steam clouding his eyes and leaving him in a confused haze.

What do I do if he doesn’t stop crying? How often can I hold him? What if he hates me?

Fatherhood was just around the corner, but there wasn’t much even she could do to prepare him, and the questions would likely remain unanswered until the time came for him to simply go through the motions of learning their son.

He’d started to absentmindedly draw designs across her thigh where the shorts didn’t reach, his head tilted and staring from behind his sunglasses at the woman who struggled to pay her parking ticket at the gate.

“How hard is it to press a button and swipe a card?” Callie chastised, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Nick shook his head. “Not like we need to be anywhere today,”

“Ross is calling and the heat is cooking me,” she whined, rallying a chuckle from him.

“Maybe it’ll bake him a little faster,”

“You got your oven mitts ready?” she cracked, and he laughed again.

The remnants of his smile lingered once looking back to the car ahead of him, his ears twitching when an alluring idea came to the forefront of his mind. “Do we have anything planned for dinner?”

Her eyes momentarily bounced around as she squinted, finally exhaling, “Nope,”

Nick grinned. “Date night?”

“Mm? What’ya have in mind?” she smiled when resting her chin in her palm and laying her phone in her lap.

“How about Santa Monica?”

Her smile wavered here and there between a scowl. “Last time we were there we got in that fight ,”

“That was last time,” Nick sighed.

“I know, okay, I just…” she fidgeted, halting her drumming fingers. “That was just a shitty day,”

Nick reached into her lap to smoothly scoop her hand into his, their fingers twining when he kissed the back of her hand, his eyes on the road as they finally made their way from the parking lot. “You know I’ll be sorry forever,”

“Callie open the fucking door!”

The heel of her palms stayed pressed against her eyes when she shook her head, leaned forward into her own lap. “Go away Nick,” she croaked, sniffling.

“Open the door!” he bellowed, his palm coming to hit the window sill of the passenger side door.

“Fuck off! Just leave me alone!” she screamed, fresh hot tears staining her cheeks.

“I’m not going until you fucking talk to me!”

“ I don't wanna talk !” she sobbed, and continued to scream as he yanked animalistically against the handle, the truck swaying side to side. “Nick stop before someone calls the cops!”

“I don’t fucking care!” he bellowed, truly uncaring of the strangers amongst the crowds coming in and out of the piers parking lot that had stopped to watch him beat wildly against the truck. “Now open the fucking door so we can go home!”

“ NO !”

She screamed when his lightning fast strike was enough to crack the window, the soft splintering filling the silence between them now as she looked at his heaving form that looked back in shock from his own outburst.

“I know,” she used the back of her knuckles to rub his chin before he held her thigh so she could have her hand back.

“That won’t happen again, I promise,” he still reassured.

“It’s okay baby, really,” Callie’s small smile was comforting, but he knew the somber memory still made her flinch sometimes when his temper grew explosive. “It’s not like I haven’t gone apeshit sometimes,”

“Yeah but I can just pick you up and toss you aside when you start tapping into those crackhead vibes,” Nick grinned when she giggled, her soft touch tracing the back of his hand as the wind tossed her loose hair around. “So do you wanna go?”

“Yeah, one more date with just us two,” she beamed, her smile brighter than any magic he’d bored witness to.

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“Oh yeah, it’s not like all the times there were bad,” she suspired, leaning closer to give him that crooked, toothy grin.

Nick could only look at her in fleeting glances, but he’d recognize that glimmer of her eyes anyday. “Like?”

“Like the ball,”

Nick swallowed. “The black dress ball?”

“Mhm,” she bit her bottom lip, studying him closely.

“Nick stoh- stop stop I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum!” she sobbed, thighs trembling and spread in his lap. He was buried to the knuckles in her pussy, his hand other working her flushed tits that shook with her ragged breaths.

“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” he sneered against her hair, the shimmering black dress pooled around her waist.

The aching of her knee started to dull as she ebbed closer, her heeled foot hooked onto the dashboard and fingers dug into the fabric across his thighs, surely burning her own palms the longer he extended his torture.

His fingertips found her clit for only a moment before sliding two fingers back in, her spine arching immediately when he drummed her spot.

“Ah fuck-” she choked, curling off his body. “Nick, Nick Nick-”

“Fuck I love it when you shake like that,” he growled, teeth bared and gripping her breast tight enough to make her whimper, but it was all muted the moment she climaxed.

Callie was always a sight to behold when this moment came; the way she chanted his name until her voice broke, her hips rolling perfectly into his rhythm, and there was always the pulses of her pussy. How he could feel her slick walls milking his fingers, and could practically taste her sweet nectar he scented furiously.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispered, dragging his slick fingers out to rub her sensitive clit. There were a few listless jerks of her body, but Callie twisted in his hold after evening her breathing, her sore fingers curling in his shoulders to steady herself.

Her movements were wobbly and sloppy, but this night, Nick was too heated and hard to stop her from wiggling upright in his lap, and clumsily reaching down to guide his hard as rock cock inside once he’d done away with the belt and zipper.

His head hit the headrest, eyes closed and moaning against her parted lips that ghosted against his. She tasted like the champagne they’d been served in crystal glasses, her touch cold across his chest once she’d run down the length of buttons.

Every slow drop of her hips took him back in with ease, a breathless whine meeting his lips every time he filled her.

The fallen strands of her messy hair that was once pinned up in a soft french twist now tickled his cheeks as she looked down at him with balmy eyes.

Nick’s mind further unraveled when she leaned back against the steering wheel, switching to soft bounces that dropped her head back in the wake of a loud moan.

The smooth plain of her torso was bared for him to touch, his palms sliding flat up between her breasts and resting at her neck as he bucked into her sweet pussy, his own cries starting to fill the steamy space of the trucks cab.

A few snaps before his eyes brought him back with a deep flush and growing erection, his heavy eyes finding her looking up at him curiously.

“Are you daydreaming?” she smiled, poking his hip.

Nick shrugged, his knees swinging wide as he adjusted the achy hard-on in his shorts while following her to the next aisle. He quickly offered an elbow upon watching her waddle with a hand pressed into the wearied crook of her spine, still keeping a hand at her back when he reached up to top shelves for her.

“Here,” she took both of her selections and hung a bag on each of his shoulders, studying them meticulously.

“Why me?” he cocked a hairless brow.

“You’re gonna be carrying it while I’m dying of labor pains,” she grinned. “I think I like the Puma one,”

“If I’m carrying why can’t it be more me looking?”

“They don’t have any blue ones,” she pointed with a frown, narrowly avoiding the slap to her ass. “If I scream that someone from the Blue Man Group is hitting me people will come running!”

Nick chuffed, hooking his arm around her shoulders before she could slip away, hanging on tight when she tried to squirm away. She let out high pitched laughter into his chest as he shoved his face between her shoulder and cheek, all in attempts to chuff into her ear; it always made her squirm and scream.

“Cheesecake!” she finally squealed, slapping a few rounds worth of hits against his arms that didn’t phase him in the slightest. “You ruined my bun!”

“Ahh it was already fucked, c’mon fur ball,”

Now Nick barely avoided a hard punch to his arm after grabbing the bag of her choice and moving on, only coming back to her side to help her walk after she pinky promised she wouldn’t groin shot him.

“So what else?” he asked, his arm hung around her shoulders.

“Swaddling blankets. I have everything I need at home-”

Nick nearly lost his footing when his arm didn’t follow, but he quickly realized what was happening when he came to face her pinched brows and scrunched nose, the irritated turn of her jaw.

“Bad one?” he questioned keenly, glaring at a couple that murmured lowly in annoyance as they moved around a steadfast Callie at the center of an aisle.

She nodded, exhaling slowly. “Thought my water was gonna break everywhere for a second,”

Nick felt the blood come back to his face. “Wait until we’re in the car at least so I can just drive you to the hospital,”

She snickered, leaning more into his arm now as they ambled around the store.

The mostly curious, sometimes disgusted and other times intrigued gawks in their direction was for the most part ignored now; years of toughening allowed him to now brush the remarks off, but even he couldn’t resist growling lowly when the looks deviated, dragging up and down Callie, or his form. If there was ever a time Nick hated his heightened sense of smell, it was in Targets with middle aged mothers who would outwardly glare at him, but upon passing, their arousal would give them away, often accompanied by a glance over their shoulder at the beefy Orc.

“There’s another cougar looking at you,” Callie would whisper, pointing with her chin.

It’s when he’d give a small reminder to the less informed humans that he was spoken for, usually with a hand slipped into Callie’s back pocket or slyly pulling her hair back from her face to reveal the faint bite under her jaw.

“So where’re we eating?” Callie piped, gently touching a pair of thin, silver earrings whose jewels sparkled softly.

“Mariasol’s? I could go for some ceviche,” Nick’s mouth watered at just the thought.

“Oh good, I thought you were gonna be tired of Mexican after these last two weeks,”

He scoffed. “I haven’t grown tired of you, have I?” he asked against the shell of her ear, smiling when she blushed.

“Nick?”

They both turned at the unrecognized call of his name, but Callie caught the stiffening of Nick’s spine before she even had a chance to properly overlook the lean Orc woman that had called after him.

“Grohet?” Nick said, his eyes peeled.

“Yeah- hi!” she smiled, her stubby tusks barely peeking from her lips as she moved forward to hug him.

Although Nick’s embrace was stiff and half-hearted, it still shrunk Callie back to his side, unknowing where to look or how to place her hands as she took in small details of the admittedly gorgeous woman before her lover.

“How’ve you been?” she went on to ask, respectfully stepping away from him.

“Uh yeah, good, real good. God it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” Nick replied nervously, his eyes shooting to Callie’s and finding the anxiousness. “This is my girlfriend Callie,” he proudly introduced, his hand returning to the spot at her back

“The lone wolf is finally settling down, huh?” Grohet teased, shaking Callie’s hand gently.

Callie’s head cocked. Lone wolf?

“Najbor-tuk or lavgru-mal?”

“Boy, we’re naming him Leo,” Nick went on, his chest puffing.

“About to pop then?” she asked, and although Callie nodded and snaked her arm behind Nick again with a nonchalant smile to match, she wanted out of that conversation immediately.

She didn’t need to be told to know these two had history.

The kind that made Nick fidgety, or her cock a painted brow when she spotted Callie’s obvious condition.

It also made her wonder how he’d jumped from tall, elegant Orcs with velvety voices to her stunted stature and tangly hair that even annoyed her sometimes.

God, she was almost his height and built like an Olympian-

“Maybe, but we should get going, we have a few more errands to run,” Nick’s voice broke through her thoughts, but by the time she realized she’d been glaring at Grohet, he was already shaking her hand.

“Yeah me too. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you two around.” She grinned at Callie who could barely muster her own. Grohet strolled away leisurely, pushing her earphones back.

“I thought she moved out of LA,” he pondered out loud. “You alright?”

Callie nodded with a sour grin. “Cramps,” she lied.

“Well let’s get you off your feet then.” He offered an elbow, the couple setting off back down the aisle as Nick went on to chat about something she didn’t quite catch when glancing over her shoulder, but the mysterious woman was already gone.

It was surprising how easily he found parking this time of day, and so close, but before he could even turn off the truck, he was staring at Callie again, more notably her downcast eyes and hands toying listlessly in her lap.

“Callie,” he sighed.

“Hm?”

“Talk,”

She pursed her lips, looking at him with glossy eyes. “You never mentioned her before,”

Nick’s expression turned horrified. “Why’re you crying?”

“I’m not, it’s the fucking hormones,” she sniffled.

“What-”

“Why didn’t you ever mention her?” she questioned. “I’ve sat and talked about your exes with your mom and that one never came up,”

“She wasn’t an ex,” he intoned, resting back in his seat and turning the engine off.

“Oh bullshit,” Callie scoffed. “Just spit it out,”

He looked to her with apprehension, sighing as he said, “She was a fuck buddy,”

A few seconds of Callie’s blank mein ticked by, then a few more before she calmly situated back in her seat, holding her round stomach. “An ex would’ve been better,”

Nick sighed again, unsure of what to even say that could expel the tension, or calm the unrest in her mind.

“How long?” she asked softly.

He shook his head in uncertainty. “Five-ish months?”

Now she looked at him, her brows pulled together in mild discomfort. “How’d you two meet?”

“O-Date,”

“So it started as a date?” she whined, but Nick had grabbed her hand, turning in his seat to face her.

“She told me within ten minutes she wasn’t looking for a relationship. She only wanted sex,”

“For five months!?”

“Callie,” he stopped her rampage. “That’s not fair,”

Her brows furrowed now.

“I didn’t ridicule you for the guys you slept with before me,”

She looked down at his hand holding hers, his thumb stroking her skin. “What was she like?”

“I don’t know,”

Callie looked at him in confusion.

“It was literally just sex, we didn’t even talk. I’m surprised she even remembered my name,”

“What’s with the lone wolf thing?”

Nick looked outwards, his lips in a straight line. “It was my username…”

Callie tried, but she still giggled at it. “She’s pretty,”

Nick scoffed. “She has fake eyebrows,”

She laughed this time, bringing her forehead to rest against his knuckles. “I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be. I’d flip if one of your ex’s came strolling up like that,”

With a shrug she said, “I’m positive none of them would even come up if you were standing next to me,”

“That’s what you get when you date white boys,”

“Shut up! You fucked someone with fake eyebrows!”

Nick’s leer was menacing. “You really wanna go there?”

“Uhh…” Callie could only utter, the sheet wrapped loosely around her bare form. “Can… are you okay? Josh-”

Fuck, was his name Josh!?

He only waved her away, his face buried in his other palm as he choked down hiccuping sobs and sat facing away from her at the end of his bed. His bony shoulders shook terribly; it freaked her out a little bit.

“Y-you can lea-leave,” he at last choked out, rising naked from his spot and wobbling out of his messy room.

She could hear him bumping against the doorframe to another room, and until she heard the door lock did she remain motionless, but as soon as she could hear his intensifying cries drowning out in the slurred words of who ever he was calling, Callie was on her feet and pulling her clothes back on with her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder.

“Pickuppickuppickup-” she hissed, yanking her jeans up her legs.

“Hey bitch-

“Rosie come pick me up,” Callie rushed, flinging her phone down only a moment to pull her shirt on.

“That was fast-”

“NO, he fucked me for three seconds now he’s in the other room crying!”

There was a long pause. “What!?”

“Why are you making me relive that?” Callie carped.

“Cuz you reminded me of the time I rubbed off one of her eyebrows and it was horrifying,”

She managed to stifle most of the laughter, but he’d at least had the courtesy of not laughing at her when she’d first retold the tale of her flee from the boy that had started sobbing like she’d murdered his family before him, and muted her amusement.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, his hand smoothing the back of her head.

Callie nodded, the rampant thoughts diminished and Leo rousing lively after hearing his father speak. “I’m sorry,” she again said softer.

There was only a shake of his head before he closed the space between them, his lips meeting hers for confident, full kisses that made her cheeks warm. His big hands concealing her reddened cheeks only continued to warm as he prolonged the kisses, speaking softly to her in whispers only she would ever hear.

“Okay,” Nick forcefully threw the truck into park in his excitement, the pair looking out to where they’d already spotted Dinara and Oleg sitting at one of the outside patios of the bar. “Ready?”

She nodded, but didn’t move except for her leg that was bouncing like it had its own engine.

“Baby,” he held the back of her neck until she looked at him with glossy, wide eyes.

“It’s the third time,” her voice broke, quickly wiping her eyes. “What if-”

“No, we already said no what if’s. This,” he reached to place a hand over her flat stomach that would soon start to bulge. “This is it. There’s no more what ifs,”

Her lip started to tremble. “What if I lose this one too?”

Before she could even continue he was bringing her forehead against his, holding her steadfast, vanquishing all of the fear if only for a few seconds. Her grip on his wrists was tight, but he knew it was out of fear, not repulsion, and his unwavering support was what she’d need now and until she pushed this baby out despite fearing it would be ripped from her grasp like the ones previous.

“This is the one Callie,” he spoke softly, his palms moving smoothly over her cheeks. “Pick names because you’re gonna be a mom,”

She smiled, weakly, but it was still something. He kissed her head when it dropped, allowing her the minutes she needed to compose herself before they’d once again step before his parents and tell them she was expecting.

“It feels like yesterday,” he mumbled, his mottled finger following Leo.

“I didn’t think I could do it,” she admitted carefully, shame filling those big caramel eyes when meeting Nick’s bewilderment. “My body’s never been reliable,”

He couldn’t argue that. Between miscarriages and endless medicated routines that turned Callie’s body sour, the ornery temper of her womb would always seem to flare up when she least needed it.

“Baby?” he called, shrugging off his bag by the door and hanging his keys. He pushed down Pucca who excitedly pawed as his hip, shoving her wide head under his hand with a series of high-pitched whines.

“Where’s mama?” he played, but the sudden spin and glance over her shoulder Pucca shot back at him brought his teasing manner down. Nick furrowed his brows as he looked down at Pucca’s perked ears and straight as an arrow tail.

“Where’s mama?” he asked again, beelining after her when she took off down the hall, her nails ripping across the carpet.

The blood assaulted his senses before he even made it to Callie’s aid, curled up in bed under the sheets.

Pucca started barking beside her, whining when Nick whipped the sheet away to lay bare the blood pooling beneath her.

“Cal-” he gasped, Pucca continuing to cry beside them.

The stench of sickly blood still laid vivid in the meadows of his mind no matter how he fought to forget it’s odor, but a quick, and comforting look at her stomach swelled beautifully with his healthy baby brought him back from the darker corners of his mind.

“Ready to eat?” he asked.

“Yep.” She nodded, thankful to be steered away from those memories.

Nick was there as always to help her down from the high seat, his hold at her sides unmoving until she was steady and clear headed. His daily attentiveness reminded her of the faith she held in him, knowing the same strong arms that so guarded her would be where Leo would lay safely, cradled and shielded from any harm.

As she looked up at him with their hands joined, listening to him speak about the ambiance of the outside bar he wanted to sit at, she knew he’d share his thoughts and lessons with their son throughout his life, confident that the same excitement that glimmered in his eyes would grow brighter once he looked into Leo’s inquisitive eyes.

Nick took notice to her quiet stares, her brows furrowed every so slightly as she gazed, and listened, a hand rested over her stomach once sat under the warm lights lining the patio like stars.

“What?” he scoffed, his curiosity growing when she shook her head, but gave him that toothy, crooked grin.

“I just like listening to you talk,”

“Even after all these years?”

“I can’t wait to hear you talk to Leo,” she wavered, batting her glossy eyes.

Nick waved his hand, leaning his cheek into his palm shyly when she smiled adoringly at him.

But did she know how excited he was to see her with Leo in her arms? To at last give her what she’d fought for? To be lulled by the soft lullabies he knew she was saving for her son, and watch her admire the tiny hands she’d soon be able to kiss?

Nick stared at her now much in the same way she did, his heart hammering and his quiet breaths unsteady.

Could he keep her forever? Would her overflowing love for Leo leave room for him after all he’d put her through to get here?

He swallowed, smiling off her soft accusation of staring, his eyes diverting to the menus before them.

His eyes roamed over the words, but his heart was directing his attention to the question he’d wanted to hear her scream yes to that first time he’d ever spoken of his desire to make her his wife.

“They’re gonna like you,” he buoyed, snatching her hand to kiss her fingers.

“Says the one who told me how vicious your mother was when she met your other girlfriends,” she whined.

“You’re different,”

“Oh yeah? How?”

Nick sat up, inclining to kiss her sweetly once before saying, “I didn’t plan to marry any of those other girls,”

It didn’t register right away, but when it did, he saw the gravity of his words flicker across her face. First it was a loose smile, then the furrowed brows, them pure confusion, all making him smirk.

“What?” she croaked.

“You heard me,”

She situated better, scooting closer. “How’re you so confident after everything that’s happened? You never once thought we were hopeless?”

“Sure, but I never stopped feeling it. No matter what I did it’s been the same since I first saw you. Hit me like a bullet to the heart,” he explained, witnessing the glaze move over her eyes.

“Wh-” she cleared her throat when her voice cracked severely, moving her hair behind her ears. “Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Cause of the shit you’ll get for wanting to be with someone like me,”

He blew air. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone says, even if it’s our families. And it doesn’t have to be soon, hell it can be on our deathbeds, but no matter what, I’m gonna marry you one day Callie. Even if we’ve only known each other so briefly, and some of it was apart, I can’t fathom a life without you,”

She blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “You’re so sure you wanna spend that long with me?”

“Are you asking me, or yourself?” he questioned, leaning on a hand closer to her. “If you don’t want to spend that long with me, it’s okay-”

“I’m asking you. I know what I want, but do you?” she asked softly.

He kissed her again, resting his forehead against hers. “I want forever with you. Everything about you-”

“My anxiety?”

“Callie-”

“I can never give you a family,” she grieved, but he hushed her, kissing her silent.

“Anything, everything, always. You can’t scare me away,” he laughed, and so did she.

Nick glanced around. Could I do it here? There were only a few more patrons filling up the patio that late afternoon, individuals that hadn’t even given the odd couple second glances.

He looked back to Callie, leaned to the side and going on about Leo favoring her left side the past few days.

I don’t have a ring.

That smothered his flame some, but the thought of Callie not being his in every sense possible made his heart ache, even if she was branded with his mark and carried his scent.

He gazed at the smile that had made his heart thunder to life that first time all those years ago, the freckles he’d once counted as she slept tangled in his hold. Her big eyes that twinkled with life, even in the dark.

Callie’s soft ranting about the price of an enchilada dish halted when her hand was suddenly enveloped by his on the tables surface, and as soon as she found the bubbling, skittish fear in his eyes, somewhere deep down in her heart, she knew what was coming.

“Callie-”

“Hey there! My name is Kim and I’ll be helpin’ you two out tonight,” the cheery, short statured waitress popped up, laying down coasters. “Can I start you two off with any Liquid Marijuanas or Mai Tai’s? Maybe a bottle of Black Sky for you sir?”

“Uh-” Callie started.

“Woops! Or maybe some waters? Fresh horchata? Jamaica?”

“Can we have time to look at the menu?” Nick stopped her, his agitation growing.

“For sure! I’ll swing by in a few minutes!” and Kim was off, pacing towards the next table.

Nick exhaled bitterly, letting go of her hand to open his menu again in preparation.

“What were you gonna say?” Callie asked, eyes hopeful and waiting.

Not now, not here. I’ll take the signs. “If you minded if I drank a little,” he grinned.

The mild disappointment in her tone when she replied made him wonder if she knew what had been coming, and if she’d been hopeful for it.

Callie acted nonchalant when she leaned back in her chair, quickly changing subjects and not really letting a word in otherwise, but he understood. He knew it was so she didn’t have to argue with her own thoughts and emotions of hidden embarrassment.

Suddenly the dinner felt like it’d take too long, but a quick reminder of their last date they’d ever have as just Nick and Callie settled that impatience.

If the time he would ask could be perfect, he’d wait.

But once the food came and went, his nerves grew.

When they finally raised from their seats after talking for what felt like hours, lost in one anothers smiles and soft caresses across their hands, he found his hands starting to shake.

The sky was melting into waves of oranges and purples, glowing over the crashing waves she wanted to sit in the sand before. Nick held their shoes in one hand and hers in the other, wobbling over the warm sand until they found a spot close to the shoreline.

He made sure she was safely nestled before flopping down behind her, his legs on either of her sides and arms coming to wrap around her cool arms, her thick hair wisping in the cool breeze under his chin.

She reclined into his chest, gently shh-ing Leo when Nick brought his vivacious side out, both of them chuckling when his touch was kicked away.

Their voices and conversation dimmed with the setting sun, Callie’s heavy eyes lingering on the thin wash of water that crept up and down the beach.

Sometimes she could still hear Pucca barking and running through the shallow water, uncaring of what child she mowed down in her efforts to chase her ball. Callie didn’t think she’d ever get over the absence of her deceased companion. Her bed still sat by the hallway entrance, her bowls still below the bar.

She turned her shoulders to press her face into Nick’s chest, curling into a tighter ball.

His firm hold around her frame stirred a content moan, goosebumps firing up her arms where his hand rubbed up and down.

Nick released a steadying breath low enough to go unnoticed, opening his eyes after his small pep talk that now felt foolish. Nothing would help with this intense fluttering in his gut except her final answer, whether it be what he wanted or not.

“Callie?”

“Hm?” she lifted her nose to press under his chin.

He blinked away the heartbeat behind his eyes, licking his dry lips. “Will you marry me?”

Callie looked up at him now, and he worried she’d heard the shake in his breath after asking, but the beaming smile shining up at him after some visible tension had fallen off her shoulders made him laugh nervously, his brows starting to furrow when she didn’t answer right away.

“Yes, yes- I want to be your wife,” she sighed, her grip already moving to his broad chest.

Nick felt his heart vault back between his ribs from his stomach, a loud exhale making her laugh when she realized he’d been holding his breath.

“Did you think I’d say no?” she asked against his mouth when he started peppering her face with kisses.

“I did,” he groaned apologetically. “Every time I brought it up you seemed to hate the idea,”

“What!?” she exclaimed. “Nick I’ve wanted to marry you since we first got back together, but I didn’t trust myself to remain the person you fell in love with if I would’ve kept losing babies, especially Leo,”

“Why would I stop loving you for that?”

“I don’t doubt you, but I don’t know if you would’ve been able to live with the person I could’ve become, regardless of how much you love me. I didn’t want to disappoint you anymore,” she explained sullenly.

She tried to look down despite his hands angling her face up, pressing her cheek into his palm bashfully.

“You’d be doing me the honor of being my wife, because I don’t deserve someone as brave, and strong and fucking gorgeous as you”

“Nick stop,” she wept, his hands bringing her back when she shook her head.

“I don’t deserve you but you’re my other half, Calista. I’m not me without you. You’re my best friend, and my home. You’re my fucking girl,” his voice had started to shake again, his brows arched in annoyance that he couldn’t remain composed, but her lips sealed his when there was no more to be said. Without words she calmed the torrid emotions, reassuring that he hadn’t made a mistake in asking for her hand.

She promised she’d excel the ideal image of a wife just as he did when he swore her everlasting protection and devotion, and together they vowed the home for Leo, the love, patience, and everything else they would surround their son with as he came into this world and grew.

When their tears had dried and he again kept her tight against his chest, his flannel removed and draped over her body, she started to giggle to herself until he leaned back to look at her in question.

“You couldn’t have asked before we ran into your ex fuck buddy so you could introduce me as your fiancée?” she smiled playfully.

“Do you want me to scream it in case anymore are around?”

Her smile dissolved. “More?”

“I’m joking.” he grinned, blocking her hits against his arms and chest until he got his arms around hers to continue smothering her with kisses.

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✨🎉🔔⛪⛪⛪🔔🎉✨

i'm already writing the next chapter. it's time.

as always, thank you @rfitzhugh74 for being the kind of best friend everyone deserves, and always helping me with this beast 💛🖤

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set-phasers-to-whump · 4 years

Text

toto, i have a feeling we’re not in kansas anymore

Prompt: field medicine

Whumpee: Keith Curry

Fandom: Irregulars

here’s another fic for a fandom that’s literally just me!! we love to see it..or i love to see it anyway. actually in the case of this fic i don’t i kinda hate it but oh well lmao no one’s going to read it

There’s a crashing sound as NIAD Special Agent Keith Curry falls backwards, shattering through a previously-splintered window of a crumbling old warehouse deep in the middle of nowhere. There’s a brief second when he’s falling, before he hits the ground, which is spent in pure terror, because here he is, in the aforementioned middle of nowhere, falling to his death (or serious injury, anyway).

And it’s not even like he fell because a suspect pushed him, or because he was jumping heroically for something but just missed. No. He’d tripped over an old wooden crate. I’m so going to catch hell for this later, he thinks, just before he slams into the ground.

He blinks his eyes open in a haze of pain. One of his legs is curled awkwardly beneath him, and he feels the telltale pang of a sprained ankle. His left arm is sticking out in such a way that, even if it didn’t hurt like crazy, Keith would know that it’s broken. Breathing is a little difficult at the moment, which is to be expected, considering the two stories he’s just fallen.

These things on their own hurt. His arm feels like it’s on fire and his ankle is throbbing and his head is spinning. But on top of this, his whole body is vaguely burning, and also vaguely wet. It’s most noticeable on the bare skin of his face hands, which are prickling with the unfamiliar and very disconcerting feeling of hundreds of tiny things being stuck into them.

He looks at his hands, which are covered in bits of glass, small cuts, and quite a lot of blood. The window, naturally.

He’s about to try something stupid, like pulling each shard of glass out of his skin with his bare hands just to get it all to stop, when he hears Gunther shout his name from a short distance away.

He startles momentarily, having forgotten that he’s not alone in the face of what’s just happened.

“Keith!” Gunther shouts again, running up to him. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Keith groans. “Fell...through a window,” he says. “Hurts.”

For his part, Gunther doesn’t even question how Keith ended up falling through a window. He just says, “I bet it does,” and crouches down next to Keith, amidst a field of shattered glass. “There’s probably a first-aid kit in the car. I’ll go see.”

And then Gunther is getting up and jogging around to the front of the building and their rental car, which Keith desperately hopes does have that first-aid kit. If nothing else, it’ll have painkillers, he figures, and they can deal with the rest once they make the long drive back to civilization.

“So,” Gunther says, coming back into Keith’s field of vision. He’s holding a small white box, Keith notices, thankfully. “There’s good news and bad news.”

Keith groans again. “Great,” he mutters.

“There was a first-aid kit in the car. But I couldn’t get through to 911, and I don’t know if you want to try and drive back now, or if you want me to fix what I can and then drive back, or...” He trails off, looking to Keith expectantly.

“We don’t need to call 911, first of all,” Keith says. This isn’t exactly an emergency, he figures. “A few bandaids and a sling and I’ll be fine.”

Gunther crouches back down next to him and sighs. “You need more than that, Keith,” he says, flipping open the kit. “But I’ll do what I can for now.”

And with that, he gets to work. His first order of business is to move the two of them to someplace that isn’t covered in broken glass. He stands up and scoops Keith into his arms in one fluid motion, shushing him when he yelps in pain.

“I know it hurts, but we need to move,” he says apologetically. He walks a few meters away from the glass, around to the side of the building, and sets Keith carefully down in the grass, propping him up against the wall.

He starts with the injuries that are the easiest to deal with - the cuts. He passes Keith a small packet of ibuprofen, which Keith would love to take gratefully, but unfortunately the glass embedded into his hands stops him from grabbing on to anything.

“I can’t,” he says, his face turning slightly pink. “Glass in my hands, remember?”

Gunther nods. “Sorry,” he says, and tears open the packet, pouring the small pills into his palm. He feeds them to Keith, who swallows them harshly and coughs.

“I don’t know how much those will do,” Gunther says. “And there’s not much I can do to make this not hurt.”

Keith shrugs with his right shoulder. “‘S fine,” he says. His whole body is one giant ball of pain right now. What’s a little more?

Using the tweezers from the first-aid kit, Gunther begins the slow process of plucking the glass shards out of Keith’s skin. True to his word, this hurts, but not as much as what follows it.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gunther says, as Keith tries to squirm away from the cotton ball being dabbed across his face. “I know it hurts, but I have to do this.”

On some level, Keith understands. The alcohol on the cotton ball will stop the cuts from getting infected, or clean them, or something like that. But it stings, over and over, as the alcohol seeps into each individual cut, burning its way across his skin. Something wet drips down his cheek, and he wonders if it’s blood or alcohol or tears.

When his face is finally as cleaned up as it’s going to be, Gunther gently applies small bandages to the largest of the cuts, and when he’s finished, he presses a soft kiss to Keith’s forehead, which makes Keith blush, which makes his cuts start to sting again. It’s worth it, though, he thinks, and feels himself blush more.

Keith doesn’t have time to dwell on that whole thing, though, because then Gunther is moving to his neck, which has luckily been spared most of the glass. Even so, the cleaning process still hurts, and he grits his teeth together to stop from making too much noise, wondering vaguely if they are going to crack from the pressure.

The last part of him that’s been badly affected by the glass is his hands. He winces as Gunther picks up his right hand, holding it by the wrist so he doesn’t push any of the glass further in. The removal and cleaning hurt a little less this time, now that Keith is almost used to them. When it’s over, Gunther wraps his palm in a strip of bandage, leaving his fingers free. Keith takes advantage of that, lacing those fingers together with Gunther’s and barely feeling the slight pain that the action creates.

Gunther indulges him for a few moments, knowing that he’s trying to delay the inevitable. He gently squeezes Keith’s hand, being very careful not to open up any of the cuts further. Eventually, though, he has to move on.

“I need your other hand, Keith.”

Keith looks at him with sad eyes. He absolutely does not want to move his left arm, but he knows he’ll have to, if Gunther is going to remove the glass from his left hand. “It hurts,” he says, very quietly. “I don’t want to move it.”

“You don’t have to move it, okay? I’ll move it, and I’ll be very careful.”

Keith nods, taking a deep breath to steel himself. “Do it.”

Gunther reaches down and picks up Keith’s arm, placing one hand on either side of the very-obvious break. Keith makes a noise like a strangled scream, and Gunther tells him it’s okay, and then it’s over, and Gunther sets Keith’s arm gently down onto his lap.

He gives Keith a moment to regain his composure before he starts pulling the glass out of the hand, being incredibly delicate in an effort to not move Keith’s hurt arm at all. Keith keeps his eyes clamped shut the whole time and tries not to think about how much it hurts.

Gunther doesn’t try to wrap up the hand when he’s done, knowing that moving it is going to cause far more pain than it’s worth. He puts away the alcohol and the half-empty packet of cotton balls and tells Keith he can open his eyes.

“You’re done?” Keith asks, not sure that he believes it. His arm hadn’t moved even a centimeter.

“I’m done,” Gunther affirms. “I told you I’d be careful.” He offers up a smile which Keith opens his eyes just in time to see.

They sit there quietly for a second, until Gunther says, “your arm-”

“I can’t move it again,” Keith interrupts, knowing what Gunther is going to suggest.

“We really should put it in a sling. There’s a bandage here,” Gunther says, holding it out to show Keith. “I would just have to wrap it around your arm and your shoulder, and it would hold your arm still.”

“It’ll hurt,” Keith says, and he knows he sounds like a petulant child but it already hurts so goddamn much and he really doesn’t want it to hurt any more.

“It will hurt,” Gunther agrees, “but it’ll hurt less afterwards.”

Keith thinks it over a second. “Okay,” he says, because he knows it’ll make Gunther happy. “But please just get it over with quickly.”

Two minutes later, it’s over, and Keith is panting and very nearly sobbing and his left hand has started to bleed again because he’s clinging onto Gunther’s jacket like a lifeline. He realizes this, and slowly releases the jacket, forcing himself to calm down and breathe normally again.

“We’re almost done,” Gunther promises, as he ties off the bandage. “We just have to get back to the car and then back to the city.”

“Okay,” Keith agrees, and before he can say anything else Gunther is picking him up again, and it hurts as much as it had before, but he’s so tired he doesn’t even bother to make a noise.

By the time that he’s lying down across the backseat of the car, Keith is feeling extremely grateful for his sling. He knows Gunther had done his best to be careful on their walk over, but there are limits when someone is carrying another person across bumpy ground and then putting them into a car. He’d nearly passed out when Gunther had set him down and his arm had bumped into the seat. Gunther had apologized, but it was fine, really, Keith had promised.

And he hadn’t been lying. Yes, everything does hurt. This is probably the worst physical pain he’s ever been in. His face and neck and hands still sting. His ankle is still throbbing occasionally. His arm, of course, feels like hell. He’s absolutely miserable.

But Gunther is in the front seat, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel as he follows the road that will lead them back to the highway. He’s looking back at Keith every few seconds, and Keith would tell him to focus on the road, but there’s nothing else out here and those looks are almost enough to make him not really mind the pain. So he’s fine. Better than fine, really. He has Gunther.

i used a lovely little tutorial to paste this without having to re-italicize everything!! very nice can’t believe i’ve been just going back thru and redoing it every time this was so much easier. hope it worked lol

#whumptober2020 #no.20 #field medicine #irregulars #fic #keith curry #cut #broken bones #broken arm #my writing #i say things #brief other news got my picure retakes today still kinda bad unfortunately :(#this sucks i hate it agh #oh well :)

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dawnwriterimagines · 5 years

Text

Slashers reaction to your death would include....Part 2

Thomas Hewitt:

It was such a beautiful day. There was never a gloomy day, no matter how rainy or disastrous it really was, there was never a bad day with you in his life.

When he woke up to you laying next to him, snoring quietly as you cuddled into him, he couldn't help but pull you closer and press his lips to your own. Effectively waking you up from your slumber.

Pulling away, he gave a quiet, murmur, his form of an apology, two which you accepted and kissed him back sleepily. You wore and lazy smile, your eye's half open, but you've never looked more perfect.

You both started the day, it was easy and for the first time in months, you could actually spend the morning with eachother. Charlie had, unfortunately, came home empty handed, annoyed with the absence of tourists in the area. But, luckily, there was a weeks worth of fresh meat in the freezer in the basement, so you'd all be fine for a while.

Thomas, for the first time, really had nothing to do, so he wasted no time in finding you hanging up the laundry in the front yard. He chuckled briefly against the crane of your neck when you jumped slightly, before you leaned into his embrace from behind. "Well hello there Tommy," you giggled, placing your hand against his arm's encircled around your waist.

You let the white sheet in your hand drop back down into the laundry basket, turning in his arms and closing your eye's as he pecked your lips, once, twice. You smiled widely before leaning in to give him one of your own, taking him by the back of the neck and kissing him deeply. His hands roamed downwards, squeezed and pinched you making you squeal in delight.

After you finished the laundry with his help, you and Thomas headed into the house, laughing to yourselves. However, it wasn't until you saw Charlies face, the phone in his hand as he listened intently, that you knew that your soothing day was over.

Luda Mae had called from the gas station, talking about a few tourists that were heading this way. They didn't go to the station, actually they had driven faster away from it, Luda assumed it was the bikers.

Charlie stomped out the house, grabbing his shotgun on the way, calling for Thomas to go with him. "Let's go boy!"

Thomas immediately notice your frown and whined softly, before stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, and pressing his forehead against yours. "I love you," you told him, smiling to reassure him that you were fine.

Thomas signed to you, his expression filled with love as his hands moved: I love you.

With that, they left, you stood by the door, waving as Thomas stared at you, longingly from the window of the police patrol car. You watched until they drove into the distance, unable to see them as they drove over the small hill and towards the highway.

You waited for a few hours, sitting down with Monty as he watched his shows and you read your favorite book by his side. Within the next hour, he was out like a light, falling and sleep in the middle of a repeated episode. You stood from the couch chuckling softly as you grabbed a blanket and laid it over the disabled old man.

You went upstairs to your bedroom, sitting on the bed as you waited for Thomas to come home. You were just about to take off your dress when you heard the sound of your door opening.

You spun around and before you could open your mouth to scream the man in front of you had an arm around your neck and his large hand covering your mouth. He circled behind you to hold you tight and lift you by the neck off the bed. Your screamed through his palm but he okay clamped down on your mouth harder, shutting off your nose as well. You kicked and squirmed in his grip and you couldn't hear him tell you to be quiet as he tried to find a place to get out of the house without using the front door, where the patrol car was pulling up.

The man held your arm's to your sides with one hand, while slowly suffocating you with the other. He pressed himself to the wall, hoping no one would come in this particular room so he could successfully escape. He hissed as your nails bit into his skin and drew blood but he knew that he couldn't let go, he just needed you to be quiet only a few seconds so those killers could pass by.

He relaxed when you went limp in his arms, a small whimper escaping the girls lips before he realized just how harsh his grip had been. He quickly let go and laid you down on the ground, horrified seeing your eye's closed and a thin trail of blood running down your nose. "Oh my god," he whispered to himself, horrified at what he had done, just before the door had opened to the room. There in the entrance stood, Thomas, the killer of his friends only a few minutes prior to this moment.

The man scrambled away from his sight, pleading with the Lord that he hadn't been seen in the darkness of the room. But, he knew for sure that the girl, if not dead now, would be cut up into a meat dish for sure. He was sorry but he had no choice but to hide.

He watched from a dark corner as the monster of a man noticed the dark figure on the ground just in front of him as the light in the hallway rained into the room. Thomas moaned, as if calling for someone, trying to say something, he was calling for you.

He walked forwards, leaning down in curiosity as he flicked on the light at the bedside, his eyes widening as he found your body laying in front of him. He collapsed to his knees, taking you in his arms and lifting you from the ground, breathing heavily in slight panic as he placed you on the bed and immediately tried to wake you up.

Rubbing the side of your face to coax you awake, his eyes finding the line of blood flowing down the side of your nose, he shook his head. Pressing his palms to your soft skin he tried to find a pulse, he waited, and he waited, shaking in horror and disbelief as your eye's remained closed. He began to whimper in angst, his voice rising with every moment he began to realize that you were gone. His eyes watered as he buried his head into your shoulder as he held you to him tightly, roaring in devestation, loud enough to shake the house.

The man hiding, shook in fear, understanding now that he had made a terrible mistake. Knowing full well that he would be found out the moment the footsteps stomping up the stairs were to find the room. The monster that had killed his friends, his girlfriend, also had someone of his own. Someone that definetly meant much more to him than he would've thought.

Thomas's cries were heard through the house and Luda and Charlie were the first to find him, wondering what the noise was about. "Tommy! You betta have a good explanation boy!" Charlie yelled, entering the room, before his angered expression faded completely and Luda Mae entered next.

Luda's pain filled scream of despair split through the air as she crumbled to her knees, covering her mouth as she found her son cradling your dead body.

Thomas kept his eye's on your face, his right hand stroking your face and wiping the blood from your cheek. Sobbing quietly as he held you to him, whimpering out your name as he struggled to come to the conclusion that you had really gone so quickly. Why did you have to go? Why did you deserve this? You, of all people, didn't deserve this.

"Where is he?" Charlie growled out, his shotgun in hand clicked, his eyes red with anger and mourning. "Where are ya?!"He called out into the house before he walked over to the side window, next to the corner where the man was hiding. "A bastard don'..." Charlie couldn't finish as Thomas roared angrily.

He spun around and found the man, who murdered you, running out of the room, bolting past him. Before he could even get out of the room, however, he let out a stunned shout of pain as a hand clutched his face painfully. Thomas stood from the bed, angrily huffing as he pulled the man to him by the head, squeezing his cheekbones to the point of splinters. The man felt his jaw dislocation and struggled fo scream as he let out his pathetic apologies. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't know! I didn't meant to kill her!" That only sealed what Thomas would do later, knowing that this was the man that had taken you from him. He would die a painful death.

After the boy passed out from the pain, Thomas drops him and falls to his knees, his anger wavering as he wraps his hands around your delicate one at the edge of the bed. Sobbing once again. Luda Mae hugs him from behind in support, crying herself as Charlie rests a hand on her shoulder and Thomas's.

Guilt settles into Thomas's heart, ever since you had passed, he's never forgiven himself for leaving you that day. If he hadn't, you'd still be here to love him and hold him, like he should've been doing for you.

The brutal killings of the Hewitt family have only grown in numbers, none having been able to escape since the day Thomas was forced to bury the body of his beautiful, loving wife, (y/n).

Bubba

Bubba kissed your cheek sweetly as he giggled at the way you tried to continue washing the dishes. Having finished dinner, you had vouched to clean the dishes, knowing full well that at least one of the boys would end up breaking a dish. Much to Bubba's dismay, who much rather prefer you to be enjoying the rest of your night with him.

But, he thought around it and poked at your sides, enjoying the way you squealed in surprise and leaned your body away at the sensation. Initially he had thought you didn't like it but after seeing your blushing face and smiling lips, he couldn't keep himself together. Poke. Poke.

"Bubba!" You laughed before squirming away from the sink, ducking under Bubba, who was behind you, water spilling from your damp fingers.

He had his fingers out, giggling madly as he teased you, walking slowly towards you. Promising the sweet torture that he loved so much now. He whined half heartedly, coaxing you to walk towards him because he missed your touch, but also to tickle your sides.

You out your finger out, laughing, "No, no, Bubba. No. I've gotta wash the dishes, come on. Don't tickle me!" You screamed gleefully as he charged at you and you nearly went flying over the kitchen table as you ran for your life. "Bubba!" You ran into the living room where Drayton watched as you bolted through to the other side of the room, Bubba following behind.

"Don't you break nothin'!" Drayton warned before shaking his head and sitting back onto the couch with a chuckle as he patted his full stomach.

Bubba was able to catch you by your waist as you made it to the stairs, and you both hit the wall as he couldn't stop himself. You both fell with an "oof!", luckily you had landed on top of him, and Nubbin's, who was scratching his hair irritatedly, sighed before shrugging. "When I wanna have a piece of you, I'm gross. But, when this kid wants some, he's got you in the bag." He frowned and you rolled your eye's and sat up, straddling Bubba, who's hands clutched your thighs. "I call next."

You shook your head, getting up and so did Bubba. Both of you laughing and panting. Bubba pecks your lips happily and you smile widely before pulling him down for another one.

You both jump, however, as there is a large thump that echoes throughout the house. A scream follows after the shocking sound of a woman hurling herself off the front steps and Chop top screaming after her as she runs off the porch and into the night.

"Bubba! A runner!" Drayton yells from the living room before he rushes out the house with Nubbins.

Bubba groan's before kissing you quickly and growling softly as if to tell you to stay here before running down to the basement to get his chainsaw.

You frown worriedly as you hear the screams of the girl as well as a boy you don't recognize. It's not too long before the revving of a chainsaw is heard and Bubba is already outside and the sounds of the horrified screaming and blood gushing forces you upstairs.

The noise fades slightly and you shake your head reminding yourself that you were okay with this. As long as you could be with Bubba, it was all okay.

The screams subsided and you breathed a small sigh of relief before glancing out of the window, seeing nubbins and drayton hauling a body between them while chop top prods and pokes it with a laugh. Bubba is on the other side of them, yanking out his blood soaked chainsaw from the belly of the boy, he reaches down and captures his ankle before dragging him towards the house. A slight skip in housing step ankles he walks faster than everyone else.

You smile slightly before turning to head back down stairs, "You just watched," an angered whisper came from behind you, you spun around with a gasp before you were cut off. Two hands were wrapped around your neck, cutting off your air, making you whimper. "You let those monsters kill my friends!" The boy screamed at you, digging his fingers into your neck painfully. He must have been the one who helped the other two escape, he was still in the house when they took off.

You gasped for air, "B-bubba...", clawing at his hands as he sneered in your face, his eyes wide crazily as he bored into your soul. He moved to the side, hearing the front door open, panicking he had forgotten that you both were in front of the stairs. His foot slipped on the wooden staircase and he let out a yelp as he went forwards, tumbling with a hard grip still on you. You both hit the stairs brutally, he had held you tight and took the brunt of the stairs unintentionally, before he broke his wrist between one of the bars, trying to grab one.

You screamed hitting the stairs, gasping painfully as your back hit the steps, a crack resonating through you before you rolled down next to the boy and your head collided with the corner of the banister.

Bubba heard the commotion outside, the harsh thus and thumps sounded just as he opened the door after nubbins and drayton carried the girl to the basement. Dropping the dead victim in his arms, he quickly ran into the house, the noise frightening him as he knew that you should be the only one in the house.

He threw open the door and stopped as he came across the scene, his eyes wide in shock. A boy, a biker from yesterday, he was desperately trying to crawl away from the stairs which were smeared with blood at the bottom steps. His wrist was shattered and his left leg was twisted in an odd direction, his jaw was gaping open at the sight of Bubba, either in horror or from being broken. But, then, Bubba saw you and his world turned to black, he immediately let out a cry of agony.

There you lay, on the ground, unmoving. Blood leaking from your forehead, and pooling around your head, soaking your hair red. Your body was limp and your eye's were open and lifeless, dull and void of life. Drayton, nubbins, and chop top all come running into the main room, skidding to a stop in surprise of what they find.

Bubba bursts into tears, collapsing to his knees and crawling to you as he loudly sobs. "No, no!" He seems to cry, his words mumbled and watery as he hiccups sadly. He gathers you into his arm's, his hands shaking as their coated in your fresh blood.

He shakes you desperately, begging you to wake up as drayton frown's deeply his eye's red and he forced a glare onto the person responsible. "You," he seethed, looking down at the boy, pathetically trying to escape. "You don' kill our favorite girl!" He hisses before he leans down and takes the boys head and forces his head into the floor.

Nubbins and Chop top lean down next to their brother in saddened disbelief, who's shaking like a leaf, his sobs loud and torturous as he rubs his face against yours, unable to believe that you had gone so quickly. He doesn't react as drayton slowly kills the killer, all he can do is keep staring into your open eyes hoping that you'd show him that you were still alive.

He only roars in agonizing mourning as you don't. Hugging you to him as he rocks you in his arms, saying I love you as much as he could, knowing you'd never be able to hear him say it again.

He kisses your forehead, laying his head on top of yours until the morning.

#bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #thomas x you #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt imagine #thomas hewitt x reader #texas chainsaw massacre imagine #leatherface imagine #leatherface x reader #angst

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mycatshuman · 5 years

Text

Castle of Devils

Chapter 7

Pairings: Eventual Prinxiety

Word count: 1, 191, I know its short, I'm sorry.

Warnings: oh boy do I have a treat for you. Dark memories, angst, tears, past death, blood, fangs, nightmare, violence. Let me know if I missed any.

Thank you so so much to the wonderful @civilsounds17 for helping me with this chapter. I love you!💚💚💚💚💚

More Chapters

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It had been a few weeks since Virgil had comforted Roman. Since then, they had more sleepovers in the living rooms. Tonight, was a rare exception. Both men were worn out; Virgil with dark memories haunting his thoughts, and Roman with a recent creative burst that had his hand writing pages an hour. He had only just stopped and collapsed into his bed to rest his mind and body. All was calm.

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It was 3 am. Roman had fallen asleep a few hours ago. Now, he lay sprawled across his bed, snoring happily as his dreams were filled with mysterious princes with stunning grey eyes and sparkling pale skin. Virgil's bed was empty. Instead, he moved through dark halls and down a dark set of cold, stone, stairs, and there stood a giant oak door. A wood bar sat across it, barring the door.

Virgil stood staring at The Room. It had been a long time since he had last step foot in The Room. And yet, he could still remember its appearance with crystal clear clarity. Nightmarish memories flashed through his mind in rapid fire. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the scenes, but his closed eyes only made the images easier to picture. Virgil forced his eyes open. The images slowly subsided. For the moment.

Virgil stepped forward and tentatively placed his hand flat out on the dark door. Painful moments happened behind this door. Virgil liked to think he was far from the monster he was in The Room. He let out a bitter chuckle. If only that were true. It was indeed true, but Virgil's thoughts wouldn't dare let him think such a positive thing. The town’s fear of him and the castle helped even less. A fact that was brought up every time he tried to see himself in a positive light.

Virgil let out a sigh, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the door. The dark hallway was silent and cold as he gathered himself. He opened his mouth only to close it. Words rushing to be said not tying together right. He took a deep breath before trying again. "I-" he huffed. It really shouldn't be this hard to do this! He frowned, mad at himself before starting again. "I-I'm sorry. I know that's the most pathetic and ridiculous apology considering what I did but I just- I'm so sorry." Tears poured from Virgil's eyes as he began to break down. "I'm so sorry!" Virgil slid down to his knees. He leaned against the door as tears streamed down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have- I'm so sorry, Valak. I know you're here. I know you're listening to me, and I just want to tell you that anything I can do for you, I will. I promise. It's the absolute least I could do to make amends."

Virgil waited. No response sounded from inside The Room. Virgil closed his eyes and sighed. He pulled himself off the floor and walked back to bed. There was nothing else to say.

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Roman had been discreetly digging into the history of castle Dracul for a few weeks now. The information he found was interesting. The castle was built back in the medieval era and was built by a Vlad Stoker. But two decades later, it was taken by...someone. He couldn't find much information on who but a certain name kept popping up. Valak. The evidence sent shivers down Roman's spine. And he had to remind himself that there wasn't enough proof that a Valak had ever owned the castle.

The castle was then taken back by another Stoker. But Roman had yet to find any first names or anything yet. It stayed in the Stoker family from then until now. He found quite a few legends surrounding the place as well. Roman found stories pertaining to vampires and werewolves and ghosts that haunted the castle. He even learned of the famous Bram Stoker, the creator of Dracula living here at one point. It gave him excited shivers to learn that a famous writer had once walked these halls. Maybe he could finally write something he was proud of now that he was in a place a writer wrote a famous book.

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That night, Roman laid in his bed peacefully. He had finally closed the deed on the house with Virgil. He was slightly sad, they didn't have anything to work together on anymore. But he was also happy because he got to go home and Virgil would be moving to the same city as him. So..maybe he could actually pursue a...closer relationship with the other. He fell asleep with dreams of dates and kisses shared between him and his ever growing crush.

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Roman frowned. Where am I? He glanced around and noticed a man standing in the middle of a room glancing behind him, Roman noticed the double wooden doors behind him barred shut. The room was dark and cold. He turned back to the man and felt fear radiating off of him in suffocating waves. Tall, heavy waves crashing into Roman so hard he began to feel as if he was drowning. He forced himself to look back at the man who was wringing his hands as he paced nervously.

Roman jumped and whipped around to face the door as a loud bang sounded outside the room. He glanced back to see the man staring at the door with wide eyes, half his face covered in shadows. He glanced back at the door before turning around only to jump again as he found the man standing in front of him, scales traveled down the right half of his face and a yellow snake eye replaced his right eye while the left was a cold brown.

"Wha?" Roman breathed heavily.

"I'll show you." Suddenly, Roman was standing where the man once stood and a great thumping began sounding off rapidly outside the door. Monstrous footsteps thundered loudly through the door until it blew off its hinges, splintering instantly as it slammed into the wall behind Roman. He screamed and cowered before the person standing in the doorway.

"VALAK!" The voice bellowed. Roman's eyes widened in fear and disbelief. No, it-it can't be!! Roman blinked and suddenly the monster was in front of him. Tears flowed from Roman's eyes as he stared at the face before him. He knew those eyes. Those sparkling grey eyes that lit up every time they looked at him or anytime they got into a playful debate. Those beautiful grey eyes that Roman had come to fall in love with, had now gone dark and cold and evil. Blood dripped from sharp fangs down a pale moonlight chin. "It's time you reap what you sow, Valak," the voice roared.

"Please...no..please," Roman begged as he trembled violently, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Virgil! Please! N-"

Before Roman could finish his "no" Virgil had ripped his throat out.

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Roman bolted up out of bed drenched in sweat, his heart racing wickedly. Roman tumbled out of bed quickly. Somehow, knowing exactly where to go.

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Taglist: @spxced-oxt @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @roman-flair @lyditist

CoD Taglist: @kittycake574 @icequeenoriginal @ilovemygaydad @comicsimpson @notalwaysthebadguy

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years

Text

You know how Ryan did the thing where he took out one of his teeth himself? (Because why not, right?)

Imagine FAHC Vagabond with a bad tooth and the crew has this guy they caught - a snitch or other asshole of any assorted bad guy flavor. (Maybe he sabotaged one of their jobs/heists or got someone hurt or just whatever?)

And the asshole’s not talking.

They haven’t resorted to torture yet - maybe they can’t or won’t - but it’s so fucking tempting? (Trying to prove a point to this fucker they’re not going to sink to his level, idk.)

Ryan’s watching this go down, right? He’s offered to get his hands dirty for the sake of the crew, do a little Bad Guy shit for them because he’s already fucked in that department, y’know? But they told him no, so he’s just there watching the others get nowhere with this guy and then he does something - grinds his teeth, clenches his jaw, whatever, and his fucking tooth reminds him it’s also fucked.

Light bulb moment after the pain recedes because it’s not like he can just make a dentist appointment now, right? (Like, okay. Yes, he could in his civilian persona, but there’s kind of a crisis on?)

“Hey,” he says, doesn’t take his eyes off the guy they’ve got shut up in an interrogation room. Two-way glass and everything because how else are they going to do things here? “I’ve got an idea.”

Geoff, who’s standing next to him sighs because they’ve been over this already, okay. Much as he’d like to break this asshole down into a sniveling mess to get the answers they want, it’s not really an option.

(Maybe it’d kick off a war they’re not prepared for. Maybe they’re too prominent a figure to just fuck up like that - criminal world or not. Maybe the crew would just be playing right into their hands if they did. Whichever.)

“Ryan - “

Ryan chuckles, like this is just any other day and shit hasn’t gone drastically wrong for them.

“Geoff, Geoff,” he says in that slightly (completely) patronizing tone he gets sometimes. “I won’t harm a hair on that asshole’s head, I promise. Just trust me.”

(Geoff proceeds to have a series of flashbacks to all the times Ryan has said something similar previously and paid for it because the man is a certified lunatic.)

“Just so you know,” he says, you saying that doesn’t fill me with confidence.”

Ryan grins, all bright and sunny and goes.

“Give me a ten minutes,” he says, “I just need to grab a few things first.”

Geoff watches him walk off wondering what the hell he just agreed to, because that couldn’t possibly sound any more ominous coming from Ryan, but you know.

Trust and all that bullshit.

Ten minutes (give or take) later and Geoff watches Ryan walk into the room they have their “guest” in.

The asshole straightens out of the bored little slouch they’ve been in at the sight, and Geoff feels this flash of vicious satisfaction at it.

(Doesn’t matter who you are, the Vagabond’s reputation precedes him and all that even if he’s really just an idiot with a good decent okay-ish sense for the dramatic.)

Ryan’s just wearing the face paint now, took the mask off when he left to gather what's in the little bag he has.

Old battered looking thing Ryan’s probably been carting around with him for years from the look it it.

Ryan doesn’t so much as spare their guest a glance, just sets that bag down on the table and sits in the chair across from him. Roots around in the bag for a moment before he starts pulling things from it.

A cheap little flashlight. A hand mirror. A small tool roll.

Ryan lays all of them down in front of him in neat order – meticulous about it – and then pauses.

Ignores their guest who’s shaken off their shock at seeing Ryan (expecting the worst) and has been taunting and goading him this whole while.

Turns his vitriol towards the two-way mirror and mocking Geoff and all the shit he said about not stooping to their level, the crew not being like that. (Geoff wanted something better for them, wanted the crew to be different. Short-sighted and naive, maybe, but there you are.)

Ryan pats himself down, searches his pockets before he makes a little a-ha! noise and comes up with a pocket knife that he plunks down next to the other things he’s laid out.

Geoff has no fucking idea what the idiot has planned because it kind of looks like a the start of a torture session?

And then Ryan finally looks up at their guest.

“Sorry about this,” he says, and actually sounds it. “I’ve just had the worst toothache for a while now and you know how the dentist can be.”

The asshole he’s talking to shuts up mid-word. Turns his head to give Ryan an (understandably) wary look as they ask him what the hell that has to do with anything.

Ryan chuckles, all nice and friendly.

“Oh, you know,” he says. It’s a bitch getting an appointment in the first place and then you pay them an exorbitant amount of money for something you can just yourself at him with the right tools.”

He chuckles again as he picks the flashlight up and checks to make sure the batteries are still good, that it’s bright enough or who knows. Examines the set of tools before taking the pliers out with side comment about maybe needing the extra oomph they’ll give him, which is honestly kind of disturbing considering the situation.

Ryan does all this while keeping up a running commentary, little play-by-play that has their guest looking a bit pale by now as they realize Ryan’s a fucking weirdo on top of being generally sort of alarming.

Ryan picks up the pocket knife and goes through the various blades/tools until he pulls the tweezers out and eyes them – wouldn’t want there to be any pocket lint on it or whatever else for this next part, you know.

Their asshole of a guest watches as Ryan babbles on about his bad tooth. Remnant from a botched removal years and years back he just never got around to dealing with. (Because doing crime and all.)

And then Ryan apologizes again, tells the asshole this room has the best lighting in the whole building and proceeds to do dental surgery on himself.

Just fucking goes at it like he’s removing a splinter or something minor like that, talks around the tweezers in his mouth while their guest turns this unflattering shade of greenish-yellow-horrified.

(Honestly, Geoff’s kind of right there with the asshole because this is new even for Ryan, okay, but it’s fucking working.)

Their guess is freaking the hell out – there’s some blood and it’s just all-over fucking disturbing watching someone calmly ripping one of their own fucking teeth out in front of them, okay. Just yelling and accusing Ryan of being crazy (he definitely is) and so on and so on.

Ryan’s just chugging along like nothing’s weird about the whole thing. Trades the tweezers for those pliers for a bit – damn tooth just won’t budge – and back again once he’s “loosened it up some”.

After several minutes of this, Ryan finally yanks the fucking tooth out, makes this noise of there you are</i> and holds it up to examine. (Wants to get a nice, good look at the damn thing that’s been giving hi so much grief lately, you know? Get that satisfaction of a job well done and all that.)

Bloody chunk of tooth and a little bit down Ryan’s chin and the fucker grins at their guest - “Wow, guess it was bigger than I thought it was.” - and gives him this bloody smile as he sets the piece of broken tooth down on the table all nice and neat.

Their guest stares at it in silent horror because what kind of madman??? And then jerks their head up when Ryan sets about cleaning the tools he used. (Germs and the whatnot, you know.)

Geoff watches all of this torn between what the fuck, Ryan? and why are you like this? and trying not to laugh because their guest turns to the two-way glass.

“I’ll talk, I’ll talk!” they yell, leaning as far away from Ryan as the cuff locked to the table will let them. “I’ll talk, just keep him away from me!”

Because, look.

The kind of crazy who’d just up and yank their own tooth out like that? You probably don’t want to know what they’d do to you to get some answers, you know? (Ryan’s got some nasty looking tools in that little kit of his. Well-used from the looks of it, not to mention the stains on the tool roll itself that may or may not be dried blood.)

Ryan, smug as anything, looks right at Geoff and has the audacity to wink at him, the fucker, because his lunatic plan worked.

Geoff just sighs, because he knows Ryan’s going to be an insufferable prick about it for the next forever.

There’s this little chuckle next to Geoff. Trevor, who’d come down to see if they’d made any headway in getting answers out of their guest and stayed to watch Ryan’s little show.

“Strangely effective,” he murmurs, like he’s taking notes, and just.

No.

The last thing the crew needs is more bullshit like this down the road. (The general insanity.)

Trevor grins when Geoff looks over at him, all annoying as hell because he’s the same kind of asshole as everyone else in the damned crew and trots off to have a little chat with their guest as Ryan collects his things and walks out of the room leaving his tooth behind.

Geoff just stands there wondering where the hell he went wrong in life to deserve these assholes as he hears Ryan and Trevor chatting somewhere down the hall, because Jesus Christ.

#ragehappy #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #look idk #i just remembered the tooth thing for whatever reason this morning and thought about this?#because reasons i guess???#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#mouth bone saga

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splendidlyimperfect · 4 years

Link

Sting’s entire life changed when he was eleven years old and his best friend Rogue told a secret that he’d promised to keep. Taken away from the father who abused him and the best friend who’d tried to save him, Sting tried to start a new life with his uncle. But the trauma wasn’t easy to escape, and eventually Sting turned to drinking to forget the things that hurt.

Now he’s an adult, and he hasn’t been sober in years. But when drinking nearly kills him and a near-stranger saves his life, Sting has a chance to turn his life around, and maybe become the man that Rogue deserves to love.

Chapter Summary: Sting gets some good news, but he needs to make some things right before he can move on with his new life.

Chapters (13/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel & Sting Eucliffe, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Gray Fullbuster, Weisslogia (Fairy Tail) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Sting-focused story, Sting is a disaster, Natsu’s a great friend, Rogue tries to do what’s right, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of i’m still standing

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ab·so·lu·tion | \ ˌab-sə-ˈlü-shən noun : the act of forgiving someone for having done something wrong or sinful

xiv spring age twenty-one

A week after Sting celebrates two years of being sober, he gets a letter from the Crocus Police Academy.

“I can’t open it,” he says, staring at his name, typed in thick block letters, and trying to ignore the sensation that he isn’t quite real. Natsu, who is sitting across from him at the kitchen table, kicks his ankle.

“You’ve been working your ass off for this for almost a year,” Natsu says, nudging the letter toward Sting. “C’mon. You can do it.”

Sting runs his fingers across the envelope, thinking back to the months of being subjected to nearly every test possible – a physical evaluation, psychological assessment, written testing, fingerprinting, even a polygraph test. At first, he’d been certain that the academy wouldn’t even consider him with his – as Natsu put it – “colorful past.” But he didn’t have a criminal record, and between the letter of recommendation from his AA sponsor and the addictions program where he’d started to volunteer, they’d seen past it and let him go through the application process.

Now he just has to open the letter.

Continue reading on AO3

“I can’t,” he says, more to himself than Natsu, but despite the words he slowly slides his finger under the seal. He tugs out the paper, takes a deep breath, then starts to read out loud. “Mister Eucliffe, we would like to congratulate you on your acceptance into the Crocus Police Academy.”

The words take a minute to sink in, and by the time the word acceptance finally registers in Sting’s brain, Natsu’s already hugging him.

“I knew you could do it,” he says, squeezing Sting tightly, then pulling back to look at the letter. “The first session begins on April 7th,” Natsu keeps reading. “Shit, that’s in two weeks.”

A flash of panic runs through Sting and he sets the letter down, exhaling shakily and focusing on the wood grain pattern of the table. “Holy shit,” he whispers. “I did—it’s real. I’m gonna… fuck, what if I can’t—”

“Hey.” Natsu nudges his shoulder and sits down next to him. “You can do this. Look at how far you’ve come. Two years ago, you were throwing up on my shoes, and now you’re here.” He squeezes Sting’s hand. “You deserve this.”

Sting swallows heavily, closing his eyes and counting backwards from twenty as he tries to even out his breathing. It’s all hitting him at once – he’ll have to move back to Crocus, back to the place where his life fell to pieces. Back to the police station where he’d spent afternoons with his dad, to the place he’d first met Rogue, to the place where he’d lost everything.

He’d considered staying in Danston, back when he’d first decided to apply. There’s a police academy here too, and he could keep living with Natsu, keep going to the same therapist, keep going to the meetings where he knows everyone.

But something in him knows that he has to go home.

“I have to leave,” he says quietly, and he only realizes he’s crying when a wet spot appears on the letter. “I have—it’s on the other side of the country.” He looks up at Natsu, who also has tears in his eyes. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Natsu says, wrapping an arm around Sting’s shoulders. “But I’m so, so proud of you and I know you can do this.”

Sting nods slowly, staring at the words through a blurry haze of tears. A sensation that he doesn’t quite understand floods through him as he stares at the address, and it takes him a second to realize that it’s pride.

“I can do this,” he whispers. He’s about to keep reading the letter when a painful sense of longing hits him, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

He wants to show the letter to Uncle Wes.

His tears fall harder as the sensation intensifies, and all he can picture is a kind face and gentle touch, and a voice whispering, “I will always love you, no matter what.” Sting’s mind skips through memory after memory with him – they’re chaotic and scattered and full of disappointment. Every one of them ends in hurt and tears.

But when he looks down at the letter and reads the first line over and over again, he’s certain that this is finally going to make Uncle Wes proud.

The next week is a blur of packing, phone calls and paperwork. Finding an apartment is easy, and Sting makes sure it’s as far away from his old home as possible. His new roommate, a guy named Rufus, doesn’t flinch when Sting talks about addiction and finding a new AA group, and Sting nearly cries with relief.

Natsu drives him all the way across the country – they make a road trip out of it, taking advantage of the few days they have left together. When Natsu eventually has to head back home, Sting’s certain he’s going to fall apart, but Natsu reassures him that he’ll be back to visit in a month, and they manage to say goodbye with only a few tears.

Unpacking and getting settled keeps Sting’s mind busy, and he manages not to think about Uncle Wes until three days before the classes at the academy start.

What if he moved? he texts Natsu as he stares at the map on his phone. Maybe he’s gone. It’s the fourth excuse he’s come up with in less than twenty-four hours, and they’re all starting to wear thin.

Only one way to find out, Natsu replies. Get your ass up there and apologize.

Uncle Wes does still live in Saint Portage, in the same home with the bright blue door and a mailbox with the name Eucliffe painted across the side. Sting stares at it from his spot on a bench across the street, and all he can think about is the time he’d kicked it down in a rage before he’d run away. He can’t remember anything else other than he’d yelled at Uncle Wes to—

Sting shakes his head, swallowing down the tears that keep threatening to make an appearance. His cheeks are hot, and he tips his head up, blinking a few times in an unsuccessful attempt to compose himself. Then he looks down at the acceptance letter in his hands that he’s folded and unfolded a thousand times.

It’s not enough, Sting thinks, running a hand over his face. Even if Uncle Wes is home, even if he opens the door, Sting has no idea what to say.

I’m sorry for pushing you away.

I’m sorry for calling you names.

I’m sorry for being a stupid, selfish little boy.

I’m sorry for taking advantage of your kindness, for hurting you, for breaking your heart again and again.

“I can’t do this,” he whispers, dropping his head into his hands and running his fingers through his hair. The tears escape despite his best efforts and he watches as they make dark patterns on his jeans.

He’s so goddamn sick of crying. He’s always been emotional, but he used to be better at hiding it. When he was little, he could push the tears away, lock them up where they couldn’t hurt him, where they couldn’t make his dad angry.

Stop being such a baby and look me in the eye when I’m talking to you.

Sting bites down on his lip, shaking away the memories as he wipes at his face. He looks up at the house again, then takes a deep breath and pushes himself to his feet.

Even if Uncle Wes slams the door in his face, Sting has to try. He has to apologize, has to show Uncle Wes that he’s more than just a damaged disaster.

Before he can change his mind, Sting darts across the street, flinching as a car blares its horn at him. When he catches his breath, he runs his fingers over the mailbox, regret swelling in his chest at the memory of splintered wood and furious words.

No matter what horrible things he’d yelled or what he’d broken, Uncle Wes’ response had been the same.

This will always be your home.

Sting tentatively pushes at the gate, and when it swings open, he steps over the cracked flagstone that he always used to trip over. Grass and weeds grow through crevices in the cement, pushing their way up and opening themselves to the sun.

Sting’s feet pull him toward the door, up the re-painted porch stairs, onto the front mat that says welcome home. The doorbell is covered with a sticky note that says bell is broken, yell real loud!, and Sting can’t help but laugh at it.

He reaches up and raps his knuckles softly against the wood.

There’s a disconcerting moment of silence, but Sting forces himself to stay on the porch, staring at a dirty spot just next to the door handle. He can’t leave. He has to do this, even if he’s certain he’s going to be sick.

The quiet is broken by heavy footsteps and a shout of, “Just a moment!” Sting barely has time to process the voice when the door swings open.

Uncle Wes stands there, filling the door like he’d always filled a room, large and bright and friendly. His hair is grayer around the temples and there are more lines by his eyes, but they’re the same bright, clear blue that Sting remembers.

“Sting?” Uncle Wes’ voice is hoarse and uncertain, and Sting’s so overwhelmed that he can’t even answer to his own name. When Uncle Wes reaches out and touches Sting’s cheek, the dam inside him bursts.

“I’m sorry,” Sting whispers, the academy letter crumpling in his hands as he starts to cry. “I’m so sorry, I’m…”

“You’re home.”

Uncle Wes opens the door all the way, grabbing Sting by the shoulders and pulling him into a crushing hug. Sting can’t stop the sobs as he presses his face against Uncle Wes’ shoulder, shoulders shaking while Uncle Wes runs a comforting hand over his back. It’s surreal – the last time he’d hugged Uncle Wes, he’d been small and scared and far too skinny. Now he’s a man, nearly as broad-shouldered as his uncle, but he still feels like a little kid.

“I’m sorry,” Sting sobs. “I fucked up; I was so stupid.”

“It’s okay,” Uncle Wes says, shaking his head as he hugs Sting tighter. “It’s okay, you’re home.”

The words hit Sting hard and a hundred different memories rush through him, leaving him nearly breathless.

Uncle Wes picking him up from the hospital, kissing his forehead, bringing him home, changing his bandages, making him Kraft Dinner with hot dogs because it was his favorite.

Uncle Wes pulling Sting into a hug after the police brought him home, making him tea and honey, never getting angry at Sting for running away.

Uncle Wes listening as Sting told him he was a boy, hugging Sting, telling him that he’d love Sting no matter who he was.

Sting tries to apologize again, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is another sob. His legs buckle out from under him and he nearly falls under the weight of all his grief, but Uncle Wes just pulls him closer.

“I’m so happy you’re home,” Uncle Wes murmurs, kissing Sting’s temple. “I missed you so much.”

Sting swallows hard, trying to catch his breath. “I’m sorry,” he manages again through the tears. “I was so fucking stupid and I h-hurt you, and you were always s-so nice to me, and I was awful, I fucked up so b-badly.”

“It’s all right,” Uncle Wes reassures him, but Sting shakes his head.

“It’s not,” he says, pulling back and wiping at his face as he looks up at the bright blue of Uncle Wes’ eyes. “I didn’t—I’m sober now. I quit, I promise, I’m—it’s been two years and I h-haven’t… I got better.”

Tears run down Uncle Wes’ cheeks as he runs his thumb along the scar on Sting’s forehead. “I didn’t know if you were still alive,” he said softly, “or if you’d…” He trails off, shaking his head, and Sting aches with guilt.

“I screwed up,” he says, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “I was so scared and I h-hated myself.” Uncle Wes’ gaze drops to the scars on Sting’s arms and his cheeks flush with shame. “I wanted to be better, I did, but I was so angry, and I disappointed you, and everyone, and I…” He trails off, then remembers the crumpled letter and holds it out to Uncle Wes with a shaking hand. “I did this right, I… I just wanted to make you proud.”

Uncle Wes doesn’t take the paper, just pulls Sting close and kisses his forehead again. “I’m already proud of you,” he says.

A fresh wave of tears spill down Sting’s cheeks as a mix of confusion and gratitude floods through him. “Why?” he whispers, desperately trying to understand.

“Because I love you,” Uncle Wes says, words rumbling in his chest. “And there’s nothing you could ever do to change that.”

They stand like that for a long time, crying and holding each other as if the touch could make up for all the missing years. The letter falls from Sting’s hand, forgotten in the sea of emotions, and instead he grips Uncle Wes’ sweater tightly.

Uncle Wes pulls back after a bit and looks like he’s going to say something else when he’s interrupted by a loud meow. A fat, orange tabby cat appears behind him, staring at Sting curiously before approaching him and rubbing against his legs.

“Lector,” Sting breathes, crouching down and running his fingers through the cat’s fur. Everything settles into place, anxious uncertainty melting into something warm and familiar. When Lector mrowls at Sting and headbutts his fingers, the aching places inside him slowly start to fit themselves back together.

He’s finally home, and this time, he’s not going to run away.

#fairy tail #stingue #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #natsu dragneel #weisslogia #modern au #angst #hurt/comfort #new chapter #update #my fic

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tmntxreader-fics · 5 years

Text

TMNT Leo X Reader: STICKS AND STONES (Part 2)

ITS BACK

I’VE REPOSTED AFTER THE TUMBLR UPDATE DESTROYED THE LAST ONE.

Found this in a glitch actually, I copy and pasted it and it disappeared literally 10 minutes later into the abyss so I don’t know if the Tumblr staff took pity on me?...

ANYWAY

WARNINGS: Cussing, angst, and possible typos. Also it’s long as hell.

Word Count: 3307

Your gaze drifts over your own reflection, heart pounding in your chest.

“You don’t look like yourself,” April had said when she picked you up from the airport. It was one of the first things she had greeted you with. Now, back in your old city, standing in your old apartment and appraising yourself in your old mirror- you realize that she is right. In the 6 months that you had been gone, you’ve abandoned your old self and God did it feel good. Like a snake shedding its skin, a butterfly emerging from its cocoon; you are new.

Your once simple and almost bland hair is now vibrant and impossible to ignore. The roots remain their original colour but slowly along its length it weeps into a red that puts Raphael’s mask to shame. A deliberate colour scheme to symbolise the opposition of blue.

Even as you eye the clothing draped over your body, you can’t help but compare the difference between your originally modest and humble style and the present edge you’ve currently obtained.

But the most significant change you display is not a tangible presence, it cannot be observed with a materialistic lens. The thing that stands out the most, as you analyse your own reflection, is not the clothes on your back or the colour of your hair. It’s the confidence.

It was a terrifying concept at first, attempting to push past the fears that plagued you for years. The chains that bound you under the label of shy, socially anxious and introverted were never weak. They were made of hard steel with what you had previously thought to be no weak link to be discovered, but you found it six months ago and its name was Leonardo. When you broke the link, shattered it with a sword of humiliation and scorn, you realised then that the opportunity for growth came after being cut down. You are free of your chains and you want to let the world know that you’ll never be confined by them again. Starting with the one who both restricted you and freed you, you plan to display this newfound power in the best way you could. You’re going to rub it in everyone’s face that you are new. You are an entirely new being and you plan to bask in it. You want to silently gloat about it to those who thought you to be insignificant. You know your worth now. Precisely why you’ve agreed to visit the infamous lair of the turtles after so long of avoiding it like the plague; trying to pretend it never existed. “You sure you wanna come with?” April questions sceptically, her eyes slowly dragging over your frame. After a hard silence, she throws her hands up in surrender and mutters a sarcastic apology beneath her breath. The reporter knows this meeting will be chaos; not necessarily physical but emotional anarchy for everyone involved. It sounds good in theory, the idea of ‘strutting your stuff’ in front of your ex but the bond between you both was deeper than the average relationship. April knows that tie is still existent whether you choose to acknowledge it and young woman suspects this will not go in accordance to your plans- things rarely do. However, you are stubborn and even the famous reporter is no match against the fury of a woman scorned. Your breathing picks up as April leads you around what seems like the 100th corner in a row- and it’s not because of the amount of unwarranted exercise you’ve been forced into. “Donnie said he’d meet us here,” April huffs, slightly winded by the hefty trek. Before you can reply, a recognisably excited voice pipes up from the shadows of the alleyway. “And I’m here as promised!” You exhale sharply at the sight of the purple clad turtle- it’s been so long since you’ve seen any of the mutant brothers that the presence of even Donatello shocks you. You drink the sight of him in, from the goggles resting atop his head to the gadgets strapped to his ankles. An almost nostalgic sigh is expelled from your system as you shift the strap of your bag on your shoulder, a nervous tick. His gaze lingers on you after greeting April, longer than it should have until he figures it’s illogical to try hide the fact that he is staring. You smile sadly, “Hey, brains. It’s been a while, huh?” His gaze softens and his lips quirk to mimic yours. “Precisely 6 months and 2 days,” he states quietly. His smile widens into a goofy grin, the tension easing up as he rubs the back of his head awkwardly, “who’s counting though?” “I have a suggestion as to who,” April responds suddenly, observing her fingernails when the attention falls upon her. You realise she’s talking about the blue clad turtle and the turmoil within your stomach returns tenfold. You felt physically sick by the idea of seeing him again, having to look into those eyes. A gaze that had once observed you with love, a gaze that was tender and affectionate reserved only for you; a gaze that turned too cold, too quickly. “Speaking of,” Donnie begins quietly, “everyone’s waiting downstairs for you guys.” He nods his head towards to the open manhole cover and you swallow thickly. You almost wish that the walk to the lair was as long as the trek it had taken to meet Donnie at the rendezvous point. Your heart has basically nestled itself in your throat and you know that there will be difficulty dislodging it. As your little band of three approach the entrance to the lair you force your racing mind to stop, this was all done for a reason. You will not allow yourself to be weak, to become unravelled by a person you once knew. They are no longer a part of you, they no longer define you, they no longer value you the way they once did but you value yourself and that is what makes you infinitely more powerful than you were. You know your self-worth, you know you deserve just as much respect as anyone else. After 6 months of inner struggles and the journey to self-love you absolutely refuse to be shaken. However, as told by Mike Tyson, “everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” You figure that it wasn’t meant to be coupled with this current situation, but anything can be applied to everything depending on the individual’s approach.

As you enter the room holding Donatello’s brothers, you realise that seeing Leonardo’s face damn well felt like a nasty uppercut. As Mike Tyson predicted, anything witty you had planned to say has expelled itself from your mind.

A glacier like gaze skims over your being repeatedly, slower each time. The ice melts into pools of emotion, collecting at the water line of his eyes. Your mouth opens, fighting to make a sassy remark that you had planned previously- you failed miserably. A name slips from his lips, your name. It sounds foreign, why does it sound like that when it used to be comforting? Why does he say it like that? With longing, with sorrow. He has no right to long for you. But he does have a reason to be sorry. You straighten your posture and set your jaw, forcing your sights to rip away from him as if he wasn’t worth any time of day. Settling your gaze onto Raphael, his lips curl into a charming lopsided smirk. “I like your hair,” he states; stepping forward with a confident sway. Seems you aren’t the only one who’s grown. “It reminded me of you,” you tease playfully, a grin finally gracing your previously tense features. Through your peripheral vision you catch the slightest flinch from Leo. Raph returns the sentiment with a brilliant smile and you’re shocked by both the act and the way he immediately reaches out to embrace you. Blatant affection from the temperamental warrior was a rarity, to be the object of said affection made your heart swell. “It’s been hell without you here,” his words are pressed against your ear, quietly swallowing the air around you. He frees you from his embrace, eyeing you with a meaningful glance before returning to his resting expression- a mixture of irritation and arrogance. “I’ll go wake Mikey up,” he suggests, disappearing past Leo and into the tunnels. Something about the way he spoke confirmed to everyone that he was doing no such thing. April and Donnie, unfortunately, also got the unspoken memo. “Well, I’m just going to um-” Brains mutters awkwardly, spinning in a half circle away from you. “Show me the lab! He’s going to show me the lab,” April exclaims, gripping his bicep and dragging him in the opposite direction. “You know? TCRI isn’t going to disappear over night!” The duo left the room in a flurry of nervous mumbling, leaving you to face Leo by yourself. You swallow your nerves and un-furrow your brows, determined to give this turtle absolutely no rope and no leverage. You are in control here. Your gaze returns to Leo with hooded eyes and cold intentions. He steps forward as if to embrace you but your stare stops him dead in his tracks. Blue’s mouth opens and closes repeatedly as if he is confused by the apparent shift in attitude. You take his clear vulnerability as an opportunity to speak, looking around the lair with nonchalance. “You know, I really missed this place,” you state, tossing a side glance at the still turtle. “I missed your brothers, I missed Splinter- God knows I missed the pizza.” Your fingers trail over the railing beside you casually as you reign yourself in to ensure the confident voice doesn’t waver. With two slow and long strides forward towards Leo, you Harden your gaze and let it rest on him. “You know what I didn’t miss though?” You question, taking another step closer to the turtle who suddenly looks almost alarmed. “You.” You cross your arms and square your sights on him, “I didn’t miss you at all.” His jaw clenches before an emotion crosses his face, one you’ve never seen before. You find yourself beginning to wish you hadn’t stepped so close. “You’ve always been a bad liar,” Leo’s voice is quiet but hard. Your eyebrows raise at his immediate response. You’d hurt him with your words, you can tell by the silent strain in his voice. His icy stare narrows in on yours and he takes a step towards you- it feels like the ground is shaking. Resisting the urge to step away from him, you instead opt to swallow nervously and raise your chin in defiance. “You wouldn’t know,” you say. “I’ve never lied to you. That was your job.” Just like that, Leo’s strong facade shatters. His expression opens, revealing sorrow and harrowing regret, your heart squeezes at the sight. “What I did to you,” he begins, licking his lips as he pauses. “What I said to you was wrong.” “You’re stating the obvious again,” you force a tone of boredom but your hands begin to tremble. Leo’s swift gaze travels from your eyes to your lips, they trail from your shoulders to your shaking hands. His stare lingers there for a moment and his brow ridge furrows slightly. “I’m sorry.” His words are barely a whisper. His sorrow incites fury; two words cannot erase months of heartache, betrayal and tears. You narrow your eyes at him. You’re furious at Leo for what he’s done, you’re furious at him for seeking forgiveness through just two words but mostly you’re furious at yourself for wanting to forgive him so easily. Your blood boils at the fact that you wish he was the first to approach you, to embrace you, to express how much he missed you. But he wasn’t; he didn’t say a word. However, you were never one to slap away an apology- even if the last thing you want to do is forgive them. “Apology accepted. Have a nice day, Leonardo,” you laugh bitterly, turning on your heel with the intention to be in the company of anyone but the turtle with the blue bandana. How disappointing. “I can’t.” His voice is sharp, demanding to be heard. You frown and face him. “Can’t what?” “I can’t have a nice day,” he states, almost frustrated with himself. You pull your shoulders into a shrug. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” you say carelessly, motioning to continue with your departure. “I can’t have a nice anything, actually,” he continues. Leo steps closer and the intensity of his gaze weighs down on you- forcing you to be still where you stand. “I can’t have a nice meal, a nice training session or a nice patrol.” Your eyes widen as he grits his teeth and moves closer, it feels like the air is being drawn from the room. “I can barely close my fucking eyes at night, let alone have a nice sleep,” he snaps and you swallow at the sound of the cuss being spat out from between his teeth. It sounded alien and misplaced, he hates swearing. Your breath leaves you in a subtle tremble, your eyes unable to tear themselves away from him. “How so?” You whisper. He chuckles humourlessly and you note that it’s almost self-deprecating in tone. “Because I sent away the one person that made things nice. Nothing has even come close, ever since.” You stare at him, heart pounding in your chest and tears gathering in your eyes. This was becoming vastly more complicated than the scenarios you had played out in your mirror at the apartment. “Then why?” You settle for the one question that’s been plaguing your mind for months. “Why did you do it?” Leo falters before you. Despite him being completely frozen in his tracks, it’s as if you’ve physically just watched him trip over himself at your question. “I…” He trails off, voice a mere, soft rasp. You raise a brow, trying to will back the tears. You are shaking, you know it’s visible, but you can’t find it in you to be embarrassed. “Well?” You prompt impatiently, “you made it your damn mission to break me. I at least deserve a reason, don’t you think?” “Yes,” he whispers. “Of course you do.” “Then spill it,” you snap, swiping the tear that had made a mad dash down your cheek. He eyes you carefully as he words his response carefully, “I was failing. As a leader, as a partner, as a member of the team…” You motion impatiently for him to continue. Leo casts his gaze to the floor, a frown marring his expression. “I couldn’t keep anything together and rather than look at my weaknesses and failed choices as a leader, I blamed you.” He grits his teeth, “I failed and you suffered for it. I thought you were a weakness when in reality you were my strength.” You don’t bother wiping the tears that have begun to basically stream down your cheeks, you know that’s a lost cause. Leo, catching your small sniffle, glances up and his face contorts to one of guilt. Your ex-lover makes an instinctual move to comfort you. “What do you want me to say?” You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself and stepping away from his advances carefully. “That it’s fine? That we can go back to what was? You can’t humiliate me and toss me aside then expect me back when you realise your mistake,” you snap. Leo’s eyes soften, “I don’t expect that from you.” “Then what could you possibly want?” You’re visibly exasperated, not to mention exhausted by this entire exchange. “A chance to try again.” Leonardo states almost pleadingly. You’re stunned by his words, mouth opening in bewilderment. Then you begin to laugh, interrupting his sentence with an almost cruel laugh that subsides into giggles. You imagine that this is possibly a terrifying image considering that your face is still heavily laden with tears. “You think I’m going to just get back with you?” You throw your hands up and turn in a circle, “the mighty Leo has asked something from me so I just must obey. News flash! I’m not your little bitch anymore,” you hiss. “I’m not the same person I was, I will not roll over for you.”

“I know. You’re stronger, you’re smarter and you’re angry. I understand that and you have every right to be but if you’d just give me a chance to prove myself.” He begins, moving close in another habitual attempt to console you. “Damn right I’m smarter, smart enough to stay away from you,” you snap, stepping back from his advances. Instantly he opens his mouth to respond, with wide eyes and hands raised to defuse, “Hold on, I wasn’t done just listen to me-” “No, you listen to me,” you interrupt, halting your retreat and instead stomping towards him, “I am not part of your damn team and you sure as fuck are not my leader!” Your hand had poked into his plastron to emphasise each point and his gaze moves down to eye the hand you had left resting upon him. “You do not get to make demands as if I owe you something.”

His mouth closes and to your surprise a small smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “You don’t owe me anything,” he begins softly. “But I will ask you, please, to let me try earn back your affections and amend what I have failed to do previously.”

You stare at him for a long moment, gaze drinking in every feature of his face. You remember the times before he had distanced himself from you. You remember the affection, the love, the way he had tried to so hard to woo you in every way possible even when you were intimidated by him and it seemed he had no hope. Leo had fought for you, fought to make you comfortable around him, he had made sacrifices to be with you. Your anger begins to slowly ebb as his icy coloured eyes search your own for some sort of agreement. Where did it all go wrong?

He took you for granted and whether he gains your affections later down the track or not, he has still paid the price.

You clench your jaw before a heavy sigh slips from your mouth. The silence is loud as you both wait in anticipation of your decision. You know that allowing him back into your life allows unpredictable elements to gain control, once more. Would he do the same thing under a different lie? Would he treat you the way you’re meant to be treated? Rather than cutting him off and the possibilities of a positive outcome, you decide that letting things move slow will provide ample opportunity to catch any deviations.

“You can try,” you agree, “as friends first, obviously. Don’t get your hopes up for anything beyond that.”

With that, Leonardo cracks a blinding grin- as if he had been waiting his whole life to hear those words. He takes in a breath, one that is not heavy with despair like those he had taken in the past six months. He wants to drop to his knees, express his gratitude for your mercy and promise you the world.

Instead, he settles for a simple, “of course.”

Because, this time, Leo will not waste his chance on words that he knows you will never believe.

@pokiekatherine @dead-lee-15 @crazy-pleasures-and-crazy-habits @ihlni686-and-rps @chichiguitarist123 @ihlni686 @jam-jar2 @whataprimeexample @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @rinsakka @llturner7 @axa0113 @yesimthatboring @bluehelixx @mydogjustfarted @dark-demon-s-tears @dksuniverse @pleasetooweirdtolive-tooraretodie16 @lil-safe-haven @fireflyloki28 @moonrocksleeping @theunawesomeduck @thepovofem @eiri-thehedgehog @forfoxsake629 @utterlystardust @kapowinthekisser @eilikes @dva-reengaging @loekie-mulder138 @mallory-lawson23 @royalpuglife @hlemon11 @super-flamin-hot-cheetos @henderwhore4life @looneylorrhael @uninspired-plebian @thetruepotatolordjay @pluvialday @animechick555 @nodistressdamsel @fluffydino-15

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