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#but i researched the name
veloursdor · 3 months
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kiss prompt! "shut up" (affectionately) 🧡
i reblogged it for you, but thank you for sending me a kiss prompt. after ten days of not writing a word, this helped out a lot 🤍
set in padakin days, i don't think i made it as 'affectionately' as the prompt asked for, but i still hope you like it!
(850 words)
“Anakin, shut up,” Obi-Wan said for what felt like the thousandth time, his headache becoming more aggravating as Anakin continued to pout and frown in the corner of their room.
“But, Master…” Anakin said before a glare from Obi-Wan silenced him completely. Anakin crossed his arms above his chest as he slumped into his seat and Obi-Wan fought back the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. 
Negotiations weren’t happening as smoothly as he had hoped, because the longer he tried to charm and convince the Queen of Acteon to join the Republic once and for all, the longer her Majesty ignored him instead, choosing rather shallowly to preoccupy her time and attention with batting her eyelashes at his very young Padawan instead. 
Obi-Wan had had a headache for days, which had nothing to do with Anakin being perceived as beautiful and everything to do with the Queen being focused on everything but the meetings they had to get her to listen. He was growing tired of being away from the Temple for so long, missing the tranquillity of the Room of a Thousand Fountains and the peace it brought to his soul whenever he meditated alongside Anakin, everyone else far away from their reach.
“But, Master, I know how we can…”
“What part of ‘shut up’ is the one you don’t understand?” Obi-Wan asked, exasperated, Anakin’s callous attitude regarding Obi-Wan’s authority grating on his nerves. He knew Anakin was more powerful than him in the Force, something that kept him up at night in his moments of most doubt, but he was still the Master and Anakin was still the young Padawan who needed a Master to guide him.
And both Qui-Gon, and possibly the Force itself, had chosen Obi-Wan to be the guiding hand of Anakin Skywalker.
“Master, but I know…”
“I require at least five minutes of your silence, Padawan, something I’m sure you can give me,” Obi-Wan said in a fake saccharine tone, swallowing the desire to turn his voice mocking as he spoke to Anakin. “Or are you so, so desperate to speak and be heard that you care nothing for the headache I have?”
“I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin said, his cheeks covered by a red blush that blended with his golden skin, “I’ll keep quiet.”
But Anakin Skywalker knew nothing of patience or quietness, and Obi-Wan knew that better than most, for as soon as Anakin uttered those words, their bond began flooding with scattered thoughts of Anakin’s anger towards him.
“I know better… He never listens… I know what the Queen… if only she could… I bet I could get her to...”
Images of Anakin flirting back, albeit abysmally and with no finesse, flooded his mind, with the Queen blushing prettily as she twirled a curl of her hair in her index finger while one of her delicate hands placed itself atop of Anakin’s arms. Obi-Wan’s insides burned with a feeling he wasn’t willing to look closely, and before he knew it he had crossed the room in three strides and pushed his Padawan against the wall.
The Padawan braid hung loosely and fell onto Anakin’s shoulders, and while every other time he looked at Anakin his attention inevitably fell to it, at the present time, with Anakin pressed against the wall and his red lips trapped between his teeth, Obi-Wan tugged at the Padawan braid with force, closing the distance between them before capturing Anakin’s lips in a searing kiss.
He held Anakin’s chin between his thumb and index fingers as his tongue mapped the inside of Anakin’s mouth, licking at his teeth and tongue and swallowing the prettiest moan his Padawan let out. Obi-Wan pressed himself hard against Anakin, and continued kissing him with everything he had.
He separated himself from Anakin when he felt his Padawan clawing at his robes, asking through their bond for oxygen in his lungs. Obi-Wan pressed his forehead against Anakin’s, their breaths mixing together. 
As they regained their breathes, Obi-Wan was surprised to notice that, for the first time since they had become Master and Padawan, Anakin’s mind was peaceful, devoid of any thought, and while Obi-Wan adored Anakin and his brightful mind, he couldn’t help but appreciate how the quietness helped ease his pounding headache. But when his Padawan began making needy little noises, asking Obi-Wan for more kisses, he knew that he wasn’t strong enough to stop himself from pressing a small kiss to the corner of Anakin’s lips.
“I guess if you won’t shut up by yourself, I’ll have to find other ways to keep you quiet when I’m trying to think, my young Padawan.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, looking down at the ground, his cheeks red with embarrassment, as if he truly was an obedient Padawan that listened and respected his Master.
“Oh, Anakin, what am I going to do with you?” he murmured before once again pressing a kiss to Anakin’s lips, an innocent little thing that became more passionate as all thoughts of Queens and treaty negotiations flew out of his mind.
He continued the kiss with the sole goal to quiet Anakin’s mind until his brain no longer had any more thoughts besides Obi-Wan’s name. 
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rachel-614 · 1 year
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Okay, let me tell you a story:
Once upon a time, there was a prose translation of the Pearl Poet’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It was wonderfully charming and lyrical and perfect for use in a high school, and so a clever English teacher (as one did in the 70s) made a scan of the book for her students, saved it as a pdf, and printed copies off for her students every year. In true teacher tradition, she shared the file with her colleagues, and so for many years the students of the high school all studied Sir Gawain and the Green Knight from the same (very badly scanned) version of this wonderful prose translation.
In time, a new teacher became head of the English Department, and while he agreed that the prose translation was very wonderful he felt that the quality of the scan was much less so. Also in true teacher tradition, he then spent hours typing up the scan into a word processor, with a few typos here and there and a few places where he was genuinely just guessing wildly at what the scan actually said. This completed word document was much cleaner and easier for the students to read, and so of course he shared it with his colleagues, including his very new wide-eyed faculty member who was teaching British Literature for the first time (this was me).
As teachers sometimes do, he moved on for greener (ie, better paying) pastures, leaving behind the word document, but not the original pdf scan. This of course meant that as I was attempting to verify whether a weird word was a typo or a genuine artifact of the original translation, I had no other version to compare it to. Being a good card-holding gen zillenial I of course turned to google, making good use of the super secret plagiarism-checking teacher technique “Quotation Marks”, with an astonishing result:
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By which I mean literally one result.
For my purposes, this was precisely what I needed: a very clean and crisp scan that allowed me to make corrections to my typed edition: a happily ever after, amen.
But beware, for deep within my soul a terrible Monster was stirring. Bane of procrastinators everywhere, my Curiosity had found a likely looking rabbit hole. See, this wonderfully clear and crisp scan was lacking in two rather important pieces of identifying information: the title of the book from which the scan was taken, and the name of the translator. The only identifying features were the section title “Precursors” (and no, that is not the title of the book, believe me I looked) and this little leaf-like motif by the page numbers:
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(Remember the leaf. This will be important later.)
We shall not dwell at length on the hours of internet research that ensued—how the sun slowly dipped behind the horizon, grading abandoned in shadows half-lit by the the blue glow of the computer screen—how google search after search racked up, until an email warning of “unusual activity on your account” flashed into momentary existence before being consigned immediately and with some prejudice to the digital void—how one third of the way through a “comprehensive but not exhaustive” list of Sir Gawain translators despair crept in until I was left in utter darkness, screen black and eyes staring dully at the wall.
Above all, let us not admit to the fact that such an afternoon occurred not once, not twice, but three times.
Suffice to say, many hours had been spent in fruitless pursuit before a new thought crept in: if this book was so mysterious, so obscure as to defeat the modern search engine, perhaps the answer lay not in the technologies of today, but the wisdom of the past. Fingers trembling, I pulled up the last blast email that had been sent to current and former faculty and staff, and began to compose an email to the timeless and indomitable woman who had taught English to me when I was a student, and who had, after nearly fifty years, retired from teaching just before I returned to my alma mater.
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After staring at the email for approximately five or so minutes, I winced, pressed send, and let my plea sail out into the void. I cannot adequately describe for you the instinctive reverence I possess towards this teacher; suffice to say that Ms English was and is a woman of remarkable character, as much a legend as an institution as a woman of flesh and blood whose enduring influence inspired countless students. There is not a student taught by Ms. English who does not have a story to tell about her, and her decline in her last years of teaching and eventual retirement in the face of COVID was the end of an era. She still remembers me, and every couple months one of her contemporaries and dear friends who still works as a guidance counsellor stops me in the hall to tell me that Ms. English says hello and that she is thrilled that I am teaching here—thrilled that I am teaching honors students—thrilled that I am now teaching the AP students. “Tell her I said hello back,” I always say, and smile.
Ms. English is a legend, and one does not expect legends to respond to you immediately. Who knows when a woman of her generation would next think to check her email? Who knows if she would remember?
The day after I sent the email I got this response:
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My friends, I was shaken. I was stunned. Imagine asking God a question and he turns to you and says, “Hold on one moment, let me check with my predecessor.”
The idea that even Ms. English had inherited this mysterious translation had never even occurred to me as a possibility, not when Ms. English had been a faculty member since the early days of the school. How wonderful, I thought to myself. What a great thing, that this translation is so obscure and mysterious that it defeats even Ms. English.
A few days later, Ms. English emailed me again:
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(I had, in fact searched through both the English office and the Annex—a dark, weirdly shaped concrete storage area containing a great deal of dust and many aging copies of various books—a few days prior. I had no luck, sadly.)
At last, though, I had a title and a description! I returned to my internet search, only to find to my dismay that there was no book that exactly matched the title. I found THE BRITISH TRADITION: POETRY, PROSE, AND DRAMA (which was not black and the table of contents I found did not include Sir Gawain) and THE ENGLISH TRADITION, a super early edition of the Prentice Hall textbooks we use today, which did have a black cover but there were absolutely zero images I could find of the table of contents or the interior and so I had no way of determining if it was the correct book short of laying out an unfortunate amount of cold hard cash for a potential dead end.
So I sighed, and relinquished my dreams of solving the mystery. Perhaps someday 30 years from now, I thought, I’ll be wandering through one of those mysterious bookshops filled with out of print books and I’ll pick up a book and there will be the translation, found out last!
So I sighed, and told the whole story to my colleagues for a laugh. I sent screenshots of Ms. English’s emails to my siblings who were also taught by her. I told the story to my Dad over dinner as my Great Adventure of the Week.
…my friends. I come by my rabbit-hole curiosity honestly, but my Dad is of a different generation of computer literacy and knows a few Deep Secrets that I have never learned. He asked me the title that Ms. English gave me, pulled up some mysterious catalogue site, and within ten minutes found a title card. There are apparently two copies available in libraries worldwide, one in Philadelphia and the other in British Columbia. I said, “sure, Dad,” and went upstairs. He texted me a link. Rolling my eyes, I opened it and looked at the description.
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Huh, I thought. Four volumes, just like Ms. English said. I wonder…
Armed with a slightly different title and a publisher, I looked up “The English Tradition: Fiction macmillan” and the first entry is an eBay sale that had picture of the interior and LO AND BEHOLD:
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THE LEAF. LOOK AT THE LEAF.
My dad found it! He found the book!!
Except for one teensy tiny problem which is that the cover of the book is uh a very bright green and not at all black like Ms. English said. Alas, it was a case of mistaken identity, because The English Tradition: Poetry does have a black cover, although it is the fiction volume which contains Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.
And so having found the book at last, I have decided to purchase it for the sum of $8, that ever after the origins of this translation may once more be known.
In this year of 2022 this adventure took place, as this post bears witness, the end, amen.
(Edit: See here for part 2!)
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kizzer55555 · 24 days
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DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game
Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter. 
Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.
The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge. 
And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).
And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game. 
Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.
(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).
After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely). 
Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.
#DPxDC#dcxdp#Danny makes a card game to save the world.#Technically he worded the ritual so that they had to ‘beat’ him as those are the most powerful barriers and most reliable.#keys can just get lost or stolen (like the one to Pariah’s Coffin)#A riddle would be useless once someone figured out the answer. Like how no one takes the sphynx seriously anymore.#(Sorry Tuck. But it’s true).#And there is NO WAY Danny is just leaving a hole open for anyone to pass through. No thank you!#So…beating him. But it’s not like Danny wanted to fight so…he edited the ritual a TINY bit. Card games are good. Much less painful too.#Danny Tucker and Sam made the most complicated card game they could imagine.#It’s based on their strategies for fighting ghosts. Capturing them in thermoses. And MUCH based on a on field battle strategy.#It often requires spontaneous thinking on the spot. So Danny? In his ELEMNT. It doubles as practice for his actual ghost battles too.#They had SO much fun making this.#Sam added an entire series of plant cards that act as traps and healing ointments and duds that just take up the field.#Tucker added legitimate hyroglyphics combined with Latin as well as English and ghost speak.#Yes. You actually have to speak that language to play. With proper pronunciation. (Amity Parker’s think the three are talking gibberish.)#I headcanon Sam and Tucker are fluent in Ghost.#Constantine WILL figure this game out SO HELP HIM!#Some of the cards also have combinations related to constellations either in name or placement on the board.#By the way the board is based on a Hexagonal summoning circle with Rhunes along the edges#And the placement of the cards on the board and on what rhune MATTERS.#Also the cards move disintegrate and have certain abilities. Think of Harry Potter Wizard Chess.#But they are normal when Danny plays at school. This is just for ✨effect✨ Against invaders.#Danny faces multiple opponents. He also halts alien invasions.#While Danny COULD stop crime on earth he’s not sure how to fight a normal human and hold back so he sticks to ghosts.#The Justice league are going crazy trying to figure out who this entity is and after deep research are convinced this is some sort of#Ancient being who has protected earth for millenia. They have paintings on ruins and everything.#Danny is not aware they think this.#Raven starts praying to Danny as if he is a god and wrangles the other Teen Titans into doing so as well. Danny is still unaware of this.#Danny is not a King or an ancient. Just a very VERY strong ghost.
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puppetmaster13u · 4 months
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Prompt 167
Honestly, Danny is having such a good time right now. He gets to travel with Ellie, explore space, just have fun. Plus his secondary protector-instincts are having soothed despite him not technically doing any hero-ing anymore. Really his sister had the right idea when she decided she wanted to become a doctor, this is honestly a blast.
And if someone does end up passing away, well, Ellie is always happy to help soothe their spirit and guide them to the Realms where they can reach their respective afterlife. Or become a ghost. 
They are completely oblivious to the fact that there are now legends and entire temples dedicated to them now. Apparently accidental ascension is in fact a thing, as Dan later laughs at them about. 
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amphibianaday · 7 months
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day 1421
#uh just a heads up if you expand the tags to see all there's. a lot. very long#amphibian#frog#poison dart frog#based on my most popular frog to date (day 651)#inspired by everyone pointing out what they think it looks like#here's a fun secret fact the original guy is actually a phantasmal poison dart frog (Epipedobates tricolor)#(according to the original artists title of the drawing)#not Anthony's poison arrow frog (Epipedobates anthonyi)#i feel too awkward to really point it out though because they look the exact same. i cannot tell if there is a difference#im half convinced the same frog was just discovered and named twice#its very curious btw if you go on the (english) wikipedia page for either species it doesn't mention the other#while hereptiles.info (no idea if this is a trustworthy site) lists both names as common names for the same frog (incorrectly??)#while inaturalist lists them as two different frogs. curiously with tricolor having wayyyyy fewer photos#ok anyway that's my rant i went on a whole journey trying to figure out if these are the same frog or not and i have no answer#i did some more 'research' and i am more confused. some sources seem to imply they are now considered the same species ( e. tricolor)#i think my conclusion is i am willing to agree the drawing looks more like e. anthonyi. it seems like tricolor is generally less vibrant re#and the white is darker and more green?#i feel like thumblr should stop me from typing more in the tags at this point this is a whole essay#at this point i am failry convinced this is specifically the Santa Isabel frog. isthat the real subspecies or morph or whatever#or just the name pet sites are using to sell it??#i even found some sources (frog selling websites) refering to it as “Epipedobates Anthonyi 'Santa Isabel' Phantasmal Poison Dart Frog” lol#Anyways if you read this far hi. species are confusing. i am not a frog scientist#the first few tags are like an hour old now i just kept trying to figure it out and adding more tags
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keithbutgay · 8 months
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What do you mean the irl Edogawa Ranpo was gay. What do you mean he traveled with his boyfriend researching the history of homosexuality in Japan. What do you mean they had a competition on who could find the most books about gay sex. WHAT DO YOU MEAN-
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butchazepam · 4 months
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updated radical feminist library
the radical feminist library, by aggrolesbo/ladielabrys, is great. but it has a lot of repeated and illegible files, and without the proper authors so it gets difficult to search for things. I cleaned it put and then added a lot more books recommended across the internet. Plus very good releases by suny press and routledge.
i separated the trans folder from the rest of the library so you can send it to people who would otherwise be turned off.
If you have any recommendations i would be glad to add it!
spread it far and wide please
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lyss-butterscotch · 4 months
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"Hello. Who are you looking for?"
Huzzah i made a new blorbo! Her name is Dawn of Partial Life or DoPL/Dawn for short. She's part of Omni's local group. Shes made to replicate the minds of significant figures for people to seek knowledge to incase said figure is 1) too far to travel to, 2) unavailable, or 3) ascended.
She doesn't become the person but she understands how they think and act enough so people seeking knowledge can feel like they're talking to the real deal.
With the ancients gone now she and her peers use this ability to predict how their fellow iterators will act.
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ghouljams · 4 months
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Hey, your Regency!Price…I hope we get more of him but you inspired me to mess about with some pics. I couldn’t resist!
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Foaming at the mouth for this man and his stupid ass shoes.
You like him in his uniform. A man of Price's station hardly needs the backing of a military uniform to hold importance, no he carries that in the proud set of his shoulders, but you like him with all the bells and whistles. You like the way the dark coat looks against his skin, the way the high collar seems to strengthen his jaw, and all the golden accents that make his eyes sparkle. The only thing you can find to dislike about it is the way it draws other women's attention.
Price holds your fan, waving it in brisk motions to keep the both of you cool as you snag two glasses off a passing tray. You offer him one and he takes it graciously. It's funny how easily you fall in with his motions, how easily he falls into yours. You reach for your fan and he snaps it shut, your own bad habit mirrored back to you. You bite down your smile and try to be more dainty when you open it again.
"You're rather popular," You note, your eyes drifting to the crowd of women glaring at you. They exchange quiet but pointed words behind fans, you're sure if you were closer they'd raise their voices so you could hear what they called you. Nothing creative you're sure. Peacocks, the lot of them.
"The uniform is popular," Price responds.
"Not the man?" You raise a brow, catching the twitch of his smile, "Pity, I rather like the man."
"He likes you."
You hum, smile over the rim of your wine glass. You enjoy flirting more than you'd thought you would. Enjoy the way Price makes your stomach flip and your skin heat with only three words. You like the way his voice rumbles low in his chest when he says them. 'He likes you.' You smile a little more despite yourself, your teeth edging against the rim of the glass.
"You like when I say that?" You can hear the smile in his voice, feel the gentle pressure of his hand low against your back. It's a fleeting touch but it leaves you burning for more, improper in the best of ways.
"It's nice to hear," You tell him, flashing the warmth of your smile his way. There's no sense in hiding it when he already knows. Here's another thing you like, the way Price's eyes wrinkle at the corners when he smiles at you.
"It's the truth," The sincerity of his tone makes your heart ache. Nothing could have prepared you for this man, for the desire he churns in you. Longing for things you never let yourself dream of: love, marriage, children. Propriety says you're never supposed to seem too interested lest gossip spread about your virtue, but-
"A mutual one," You tell him, assure him with affection on your lips. You're sure after your first meeting with him your reputation is tarnished enough, you may as well be honest with the man that ruined it.
"Be still my heart," He rumbles, his smile as wide as you've ever seen it, "you'll kill me before we ever reach the alter tellin' me that sweetheart."
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snejkha · 4 months
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Ever since I mentioned that I want to do the fake dating sim thingie this girlie hasnt left my brain//
Have Quill the elven researcher that dabbled into stuff she probably shouldnt have/
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
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I would make a balls joke to that last ask, but I'm afraid our lord and savior Six Balls is in the wrong MXTX novel ;(
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And then he refused to elaborate.
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lucawrites11 · 1 month
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Arsenal Players captaining England
this is arsenal's official list:
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obviously there are some notable exceptions so here's who they missed:
(bold indicates they were permanent captain)
Leah Williamson: 22 games as Captain, 43 caps - 2021 - present [Captained England to their Euros win]
Jordan Nobbs: 2 games as Captain, 71 caps - 2015
Alex Scott: 1 game as Captain, 140 caps - 2013
Rachel Yankey: 2 games as Captain, 129 caps - 2010
Kelly Smith: 4 games as Captain, 117 caps - 2008
Mary Phillip: 17+ games as Captain, 65 caps - 2003-? [The first Black player to Captain the Lionesses]
Faye White: 48 games as Captain, 90 caps - 2002-2012 [Captained England at 4 international tournaments and to their first medal 🥈 at the 2009 Euros]
Debbie Bampton: 26+ games as Captain, 95 caps - permanent captain between 1985-1997 [oversaw the integration of the Lionesses into the FA in 1993, Captained England at their first World Cup in 1995]
Players who have played for Arsenal but we're England Captain while playing for another team:
Laura Bassett - 2 games as Captain
Ellen White - 3 games as Captain
Steph Houghton - 72 games as Captain
Casey Stoney - 19 games as Captain
Fara Williams - 11 games as Captain
not once does the article on Arsenal.com specify that it is referring to the men's team
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iceycloversart · 7 months
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based on this post by @mortalkcmbat
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writeouswriter · 1 year
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I love how ominous such basic names like "The Organization" or "The Institute" or "The Initiative" or "The Facility" or etc. are when placed in like a shady sci-fi context, like there's no reason for them to sound that suspicious, but without elaboration, it's like here is a place where they are doing things™ and I am like ooohh, because the blank state, the refusal to give you any more detail makes you think they're hiding something on purpose and leaves the darkest corner of the imagination left to fill in the rest.
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faeriekit · 12 days
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Ghosts of Those We Once Knew
a phic phight fill for @silverwing013
Warnings for: implied child abuse, accidental death, dead parents
**💚**
“Oh yeah?! And what are you going to do about it?!” Aunt Alicia snapped into the phone. 
There was a sound on the other end of the line, but Danny couldn’t make it out all the way. There was another solution, but it was…risky; it would require going into his aunt’s bedroom— a well known, forbidden domain— to pick up the only other phone hooked up to the landline. 
…There was no other time to find out what Aunt Alicia was putting off. It had to be worth the risk. Danny crept up the worn carpeting of the stairs, hoping that his sneakiness would hold up to Alicia’s discerning eyes and ears. 
Her bedroom was dark. Carpeted. …Pink. 
Whatever. Danny took a deep breath, lifted the phone off the hook, and tried not to breathe too loudly into the mouthpiece.
“You have no right to keep Daniel in your dismal, miserable, isolated hovel,” someone shouted on the other end. Danny had never heard this voice before. He sounded like someone around Dad’s age, maybe? Maybe a little…smoother, despite the blistering anger coming through the line. “You live with no human contact for nine months out of the year. You speak to no one. Do you— is Daniel even enrolled in a school? Did you get any sort of educational provisions for him whatsoever?” 
“What, so he can get cocky and blow himself up in the garage like his parents?” Alicia snapped. Danny had to clap a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp of dismay. 
“You know full well that punishing your sister’s son by restricting his access to an education and basic human companionship is not a solution to your grief for your sister. You are out of your mind.”
Aunt Alicia’s voice got low. Aunt Alicia’s voice got mean. She sounded like how she looked when Danny had fumbled the water pail from the well or stepped two steps too close to the rhubarb patch out back. “Vladmir Masters, you listen here,” Aunt Alicia muttered. “That boy is everything left of my sister in the whole damn world. He is not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not for you to fill his head with her stupid husband’s supernatural hoo-ha, and not for you to snatch up and teach himself how to kill other people the way those two killed each other. Danny stays here. If you ring me up one more time, I’m going to do more than just mail dog crap to the front step of your stupid castle in Wisconsin.”
The phone cut off. It would be an innocuous end to a phone call, except Danny can hear the clatter of plastic cracking on plastic in the downstairs kitchen.
There was a moment of silence.
“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you get your butt in here right now!”
Danny jolted, heart pounding. He—he went downstairs.
Aunt’s Alicia’s lips were pursed, her eyes tight. “What did I tell you about missing all the sticks in the yard? It looks like a wreck!”
Danny felt his breath stick in his throat.
“Well?”
“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Danny mumbled. He looked down and away. He wasn’t caught out eavesdropping, but…was this any better?
“If those sticks aren’t piled up beside the woodshed for kindling in half an hour, you can kiss your dinner goodbye.”
Danny hadn’t had dinner in three nights. He was very lucky he didn’t need to eat as much as living kids. “…Yes, Aunt Alicia.”
“So?”
…Danny went outside to collect sticks. It took until nightfall to get all the refuse from yesterday’s storm off the ground.
Aunt Alicia ate canned corn and carrots and butchered rabbit with hot sauce for dinner. Danny ate nothing.
Danny went to bed thinking about somewhere else he could go. Mom and Dad were dead—smithereens in the blast that had killed him and brought him back to life simultaneously. Jazz was in the hospital. He had no grandparents. He had no other aunts or uncles other than Aunt Alicia.
…Who was Vladmir Masters?
*
It took two days for Danny to decide to run away.
Or. Well. Fly.
He’d figured that if he wanted to find out who Vladmir Masters was, he’d need an internet connection. His cell had been on the Fenton Fone Plan™ and had been disconnected from the Fenton Family Patented Ghost-free Satellite™ for almost three months now. But, you know…what was a public library for, if not getting information?
The two-day waiting period was mostly just Danny getting his stuff together, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, finding anything worth stealing…
…There was a picture of Mom with her big hair at graduation, a black robe thrown over her Hazmat suit. Her hair had been so big. Lots of people were beside her, including Dad, and someone with a matching hair stripe. They looked happy.
It didn’t matter that it had been Aunt Alicia’s photo. The picture had gone into his backpack next to Bearbert Einstein and a filched pocket knife.
Mom was Aunt Alicia’s sister, but Madeline Fenton had been his mom.
…Was still his mom.
Would…would always be his mom.
Danny wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. Still, the flying and everything was still new to him. It took almost ten minutes to get himself off the ground without floating off willy nilly.
It took another half an hour to remember how to go through walls.
By the time Danny fell (as in actually, literally, leaned up against the wall and then realized he’d not made contact the way he’d expected to) through the house wall, it was almost eight at night. Aunt Alicia was still listening to Prairie Home Companion downstairs on the radio.
Whatever. He was out of there. He was sure he looked crazy—his hair was white, which was almost impossible to hide—but all he had to do was get out of there fast enough that no one connected one teenage runaway with a backpack to Danny Fenton.
It was fine.
It was all going to be fine.
…And if there wasn’t someone who’d help him. Well. Being homeless didn’t sound…so bad…?
…Or maybe he’d just squat in the burnt out ruins of Fentonworks. That sounded fine too.
*
Morning broke. Danny ended up in a tiny town somewhere in Mississippi.
A nice guy at the coffee shop gave him a cup of water and told him where the local library was. A librarian plugged her login details for him on a public computer, and Danny was able to look up one “Vladmir Masters”…
…CEO and owner of DALVco, millionaire, and Green Bay Packers megafan.
Holy crap.
Like… There were hospital wings with his name on them. Charities operating out of his company. Every picture of the man was perfectly taken in perfect lighting with perfect suits and precise smirks and bright-white magazine article paper.
Danny went back up to the librarian. “Do you have any articles on…uh…Vlad Masters?”
The librarian smiled warmly. “Ah, school project?”
“Sure,” Danny lied, milk on his tongue.
Vlad Masters was a self-made millionaire. He lived in a castle in Wisconsin that used to be owned by a dairy empire kingpin. He went to—
Danny read the line again
—He went to the same college as Mom and Dad. The year looked right, too. They might have even graduated in the exact same year. If only Danny could still check Dad’s college ring in the bottom of their junk drawer.
Wisconsin. Vlad Masters lived in Wisconsin.
…Danny was really lucky he was never all that hungry anymore.
Danny got another cup of water at the coffee shop, washed his face in the bathroom, and got ready to fly another night.
He was no sextant, but he could probably figure out how to get to Wisconsin after a couple of hours of flying, and a little time to gauge the sky.
It would be easy.
…Danny’s white-topped, pale face stared back at him from the restroom mirror.
It had to be. It would have to be easy.
*
So, a cheese castle looked a lot like a regular castle.
Danny squinted up at the stonework. Nah, that looked like…a castle. That being said, it looked more specifically like the castle he was looking for—the one that had been featured in Vlad Masters’s house tour in Architecture Daily magazine two years ago.  
Same…roof bits. Same big door. Danny swallowed. Same…tower? Were there better words for these? There were definitely better words for all the tricky stone bits in the castle.
Whatever. Danny was praying that the man was actually home today, as opposed to flying across the country on some kind of business trip. Rich people did business trips, right?
Danny floated up to the front door. There was no doorbell.
…Danny bit his lip. Okay. So there was no doorbell. There was a very large, brass door knocker. It looked kind of like a big monster face, with a ring held in its teeth.
The knocker was just high enough off the ground that Danny had to float to get there. Lifting it was a struggle.
When it knocked, the whole door buzzed with sound.
Danny waited.
…He waited.
And…Danny waited.
No one came.
Danny picked at the skin of his lip. What if he just…went in?
Like. It was a big house. Maybe Vlad Masters just hadn’t heard him at all? Maybe he was just…in the basement or something…?
Danny paced midair. On one hand. He’d come all this way. He had to follow through. He had to see if there was…something. Anything. Anything at all—anything that could possibly connect Masters to his family.
Any connection that wasn’t Aunt Alicia would be worth breaking and entering.
On the other hand. Home invasion was and would remain illegal.
Danny grimaced.
He…stuck his head through the door. 
There was a hallway on the other side. A little end table. A guest book. 
…Okay. Danny slipped through the door. He was breaking and entering now— or at least…entering. 
Inside was dark. Gloomy. Comfortable, sure— lots of soft furnishings, curtains, couches, pillow, lounging things— but very…opaque in atmosphere. 
He was glowing, he noticed. That probably was pretty bad on the “trying not to get caught” scale. 
There was no one upstairs. Danny drifted through room after empty room and up into floor after empty floor. There was a kitchen, and the food therein were largely preserved items. There was nothing in the fridge. 
Danny’s stomach cramped. There was no one here. 
…Maybe he should look downstairs? 
The castle got colder the further down he went. The windows that at least allowed the minimal light that escaped through the tree cover in the castle vanished. The only light left was Danny. 
Danny floated down deeper. 
There were doors made of metal in a long, stone hallway. Each had different numbers on them. Danny followed the rows of doors.
There were wires on the floor. They were organized by color and bound by little ties, until they weren’t, and Danny eventually ran out of tangled webs of red and blue plastic to follow. 
They ended at a closed door. 
Danny hesitated. He poked his head through. 
On the other side was a ghost. 
Danny jerked back. He’d— he clapped his hand over his mouth. That was—! And sure, Danny was something like that now, but he’d never seen—!
He should leave. Danny should leave. 
Danny barely made it three doors down. 
Going somewhere? something asked him. Danny shivered. 
The ghost appeared on his left in ethereal white, black hair pulled behind him in some sort of half-halo. Unlike Danny, who was in something like half-hazmat, half-hoodie, the ghost wore a long, glowing labcoat, appropriate PPE beneath. 
Danny’s breath fogged up in his mouth. He flinched. “Sorr—” he tried. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here.”
The ghost looked at him with bright red eyes. Danny floated a few steps back. Spying, are you?
Danny shook his head. “No!! No, I just— I was looking for— I wasn’t spying! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you li— died here! I’ll leave!” 
The ghost’s head tilted. For a second, Danny thought that he was going to throw a punch. And then—
You’re already here, the ghost pointed out, and opened a door. Beyond it was…something similar to a doctor’s office. An examination table with the paper on it. One of those blood pressure cuffs, attached to a printer for the readout. A sink. Sundry tongue depressors. You may as well consent to be helped. 
“...Helped with what?” Danny asked nervously, fingers flexing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
The ghost hummed— not in the way voices hummed, but in the way high voltage sang in distant powerlines. You are newly formed, aren’t you? Most can tell a ghost’s nature from its presence alone.
Danny looked away. “Um. You know. You might be the first ghost I’ve ever met.” 
The ghost’s feet almost touched the ground. It stared down at him. It was taller than he was, and when it stared, it made Danny want to run away. 
…Truly, the ghost asked(?), and it took Danny a second to realize it was a question. 
“Maybe I died a little recently…” Danny tried, trailing off into a mumble. Was there a right answer to this? 
…I see. That would make this check-up more urgent, then. Might I encourage you to come this way? 
Danny followed him into the room. 
It felt… It looked and felt exactly like any other doctor’s appointment, excepting that the doctor involved in the process had blue skin and fangs and a hairstyle that defied gravity. The ghost still wore gloves and didn’t poke him or prod him too hard, though, so that was a bonus.
Danny got his pulse taken. (None.) Danny got his lungs checked. (Not breathing.) Danny got his resonance? looked at? Whatever that was? It was a big scanny thing that looked like an X ray and took pictures of his chest. 
The readings were real pretty, whatever they were; the whole film print was taken up with splotches of white and clear blue. It kind of shimmered when Danny tilted his head. 
You’re quite powerful for a newly formed ghost, the ghost offered, overlooking papers Danny couldn’t quite see on his clipboard. It flipped through once. Twice. You’re clearly not attached to your place of death, so that’s not why… Are you aware of any compulsions to follow an Obsession yet…?
A ghostly obsession? Danny knew what that was— it was one of his parents’ theories on why ghosts persisted after death! Was it was true? 
“Um,” Danny said, unsure. He hadn’t…had he? “Not that I know of?”
The ghost paused. It clicked its pen. It marked something down on Danny’s chart. Interesting.
Ominous. 
May I quickly test something? the ghost asked, looking up at Danny. It would only take a moment. If it does not work, there will be no other side effects other than mild discomfort and an activated flight response. 
Danny shifted. The paper crackled underneath him. “...Does it hurt?” 
No.
The ghost added nothing more. 
Danny’s…head jerked up and down. It was fine. It would be fine. 
The ghost’s hand circled his wrist. Its touch burned like fire. 
And then light, like how Danny burned away one form for another—
—Danny was left on the table, no longer weightless, no longer breathless. He was flesh. He was human again.
Vlad Masters stared back at him. 
…Huh. 
Mr. Masters— Vlad?— licked dry lips, staring at Danny, whose wrist he still held. Danny…didn’t know if he could move. Danny didn’t know if he knew how to move. 
“...Daniel?” Mr. Masters’s voice cracked. His eyes moved up and down Danny’s body, from his raggedy hair to his dirt-stained clothes to his beat-up shoes. “Daniel Fenton?”
Danny winced. “It’s just Danny,” he offered hoarsely. His throat bobbed. “You…know me?” 
Mr. Masters moved his grip to Danny’s hand, apparently moved to tears. Without the red in his eyes, he just looked…human enough. “Daniel— Danny, how did you— Are you dead? What happened?” 
Danny felt the weight of everything push down on him again, as if it had ever let up on him since the portal incident. Mom and Dad’s funerals. Jazz in the emergency room. Being resuscitated by the EMTs. Getting shipped out to Aunt Alicia’s house without warning. 
“House blew up.”
That was succinct enough, right?
The man’s face turned devastated. “I heard— I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, Danny.”
…It was more concern than anyone had shown in a long time. His eyes were wet before he knew it. When he wiped his face with his sleeve, the dampness was enough to leave little streaks of mud on his face— and, ugh, he felt filthy. 
“It’s okay,” Danny lied, because it wasn’t. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes. “It’s…you know my parents?”
Mr. Masters took a deep, surprised breath. “Yes. We…weren’t in contact after we graduated from school together, but Jack always… He asked me by email to be your godfather, right before you were born. I said yes, but I have no idea if he ever filed the paperwork.” 
Oh. 
…Oh. 
There were clearly more secrets here. Mr. Masters was a ghost, and so was Danny. He lived in a giant castle that was clearly haunted, which was made obvious by the owner. He was Danny’s godfather, and Danny had never once met him. 
And he wasn’t Aunt Alicia. 
Danny sucked the spit off of his teeth with his tongue. “Can I stay here?” 
Mr. Masters made a wounded, desperate expression. “I would rather you did.” 
“Can you teach me how to be a ghost?”
The man persevered through what were clearly heavy feelings. “...If I must.” 
“Can I have dinner?” was Danny’s final question. “Like. On the regular?” 
There was a second where Mr. Masters’s eyes went red. The castle suddenly felt taut with anticipation. Fury crawled on Danny’s skin. He could feel the pressure digging in search of some way to burrow into his flesh.
And then it was gone. 
“Of course you can. You are a growing boy.”
Danny smiled shyly, barely showing his teeth. When he smiled for real in the mirror, he had fangs. It was better not to. “Cool.”
Mr. Masters nodded. And when Danny looked down at the floor, he changed his grip so that Danny could hold his hand and hop down like normal. 
“It will be alright,” Mr. Masters promised quietly. It seemed to be just as much for him as it was for Danny. “Or…I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens. You’re not alone, Danny.” 
Danny had been alone for almost half a year. It had felt like forever. “Thanks.” He sniffed. 
They walked upstairs from the basement laboratory together, in a way Mom and Dad never would again. 
159 notes · View notes
dandylovesturtles · 6 months
Text
Sidelined AU Info Post
Alright, I guess we're doing this
CWs: mentions of internalized ableism, struggles with mental health
Timeline:
all of S1 is the same as in canon up until End Game
however, after Splinter turns over the helmet to Draxum, Draxum does not put on the armor, but chooses to put Leo inside instead, realizing that whoever goes in will probably have something horrible happen to them. that's detailed in this fic
unlike Draxum, who gets spit out of the armor immediately, Leo ends up trapped inside. from Leo's perspective, he is only vaguely aware of what's happening outside (it's a bit sunken place-ish, with him seeing snatches of events like through a grainy television), and he has only small amounts of influence over what the armor does
once Feral Shredder is on the loose, he pretty immediately starts destroying the Hidden City. Draxum realizes that he has inadvertently released a great evil on his people, the exact opposite of what he wanted, and he turns to the Hamatos to help him stop it. obviously they don't want to work with Draxum, but they have to get Leo back so they take the help
it takes them two days, during which the Shredder moves up to start terrorizing New York as well, but eventually they get him subdued. I'm not 100% on what goes down yet or whether Big Mama gets involved (I'm leaning toward not), but Leo fighting from the inside is a big help
Leo is removed from the armor and is in really bad physical shape; meanwhile the Shredder is subdued for now. in the immediate aftermath, the Foot Clan manages to get ahold of the Shredder and take off with him
he's too weak to do anything immediately but he is very much a Looming Threat the family is aware of
Draxum leaves for awhile at this point because none of them want him around and seeing Leo in the aftermath did wake him up to "oh yeah that's just a kid and I did that to him," also he's feeling real bad about that whole "accidentally almost destroying the yokai and also maybe the world" thing
meanwhile, Leo is severely weakened, but there's not anything that the family can do to hasten his recovery. they can only get him hooked up to an IV for fluids and nutrients and wait
it takes Leo a few days to become fully lucid again; during that time he tries to fight anyone around him off or sometimes pushes his family away to "protect" them
eventually Leo does regain lucidity, he tells everyone he's fine but he's Super Depressed. he's also lost his mystic powers completely.
Splinter also retreats a bit at this point, because he feels guilt for handing the helmet over to Draxum instead of trying to find a different way to rescue his boys, which isn't a great thing for him to do but his mental health is also not doing very well (someone get these guys some therapy)
in the meantime the bros and April manage the best they can, they all have different approaches but I'll go into detail about that in the next section
there's no treatment for Leo's condition outside the most boring one: time, exercise, and diet. unsurprisingly he hates this
Healing Bad Times abound, as shown in this fic
eventually the boys have to go out on a mission again. Leo, feeling useless, listens in on the comms from the lair, and ends up catching something the other boys' missed, meaning he's able to save them from a trap or something idk exactly what the point is he makes himself useful
this opens up a new path for Leo, one his brothers very heavily encourage
with a new goal in mind, Leo starts taking a lot better care of himself, actually following his physical therapy routine, spending time gaining new skills, and accepting help in the form of mobility aids. his physical and mental health both start making big improvements
this also helps his dad's mental health, everyone is doing better even if things aren't perfect
Donnie builds Leo a command center modeled after the bridge of Jupiter Jim's ship, he absolutely loves it. whenever the boys+April are on missions, Leo is in his command center helping from the background
eventually Leo has gotten to the point where he has enough strength for day to day life most of the time, he still isn't fighting baddies on rooftops but he can get to a store and back without collapsing on a good day and that's pretty good!
the Foot Clan has been a much bigger threat in this version of S2 and it's clear they're up to something big
of course right when Leo is starting to feel stable and happy again, that's when they launch their final attack
a lot of the finale events go down similarly to how they do in canon, minus Battle Nexus New York. they get Karai back but then she dies, Shredder destroys their home (including Leo's command center :c ), everything is Bad
Leo gets his mystic powers back the same way his brothers do, though he needs a little bit of an extra helping nudge from April/Karai, since he didn't think that was a thing he could still do
everyone getting their mystic powers is emotional but it's especially emotional for Leo. he didn't even know what ninpo was before today, but he knew after the Shredder it was like some part of his soul got locked away, and now that he can feel it again he finally feels whole
it gives him a burst of adrenaline so he can participate in the fight, though he doesn't do much of the actual battling, instead getting his bros where they need to be for the big hits (I mean this is basically what he does anyway haha)
it takes Donnie exactly .02 seconds to figure out how to use his own mystic powers to support Leo physically so that helps
after this, Leo becomes a more constant part of the team in the field, though he still primarily works as support and only gets into direct fights when he feels like he has to
instead of being made leader like in canon, Leo and Raph become co-leaders. Leo's own leadership abilities have improved massively, but Raph has more experience in the field, so having the two of them working together means they cover each other's blind spots, and the division of labor is less stressful for both of them
since Leo's already been through his character development and this tension is gone the movie events play out totally differently but I haven't gotten that far yet lol. I'm sure the apocalypse still happens somehow, though, I'd hate to lose Casey Jr
happy ending whooo
Relationships
Raph
Raph feels a lot of guilt about what happened to Leo; he was supposed to protect his little brothers and he didn't, and now one of them has permanent physical disabilities as a result. add to that it was Raph's idea to be heroes in the first place and yeah... he's not doing great
because of this guilt, Raph's instinct is to essentially baby Leo - he wants to take care of his every need as soon as it arises. this makes Leo feel stifled and infantilized, and drives a wedge in their relationship (the same one Raph is driving between himself and Mikey, in fact)
his and Donnie's distinctly different approaches to the situation also mean that they get into arguments often and can't really deal with being around each other, leaving Raph feeling isolated at the start (and thus pouring more attention and effort into Leo, which compounds the problem)
Raph dealing with his own guilt and trying to find the balance between helping Leo while also respecting his need for independence, boundaries, and dignity is a big part of his journey in the AU, and it also improves his relationship with Mikey and Donnie as he gets better at those skills
Donnie
Donnie is not dealing well with the fact that there's nothing to fix. they can only be patient and work incrementally to improve Leo's condition
he distracts himself by putting all his energy into making the lair accessible for Leo, building him mobility aids and doing everything he can to help
he also has a hard time understanding why Leo won't do the things that will help him (at first), because doesn't he just want things to go back to normal? doesn't he want to help himself? why won't he just do what he obviously has to do, Donnie does not understand
Leo is deep in denial at first, and he feels like he breaks down and starts doing physical therapy and using mobility aids and doing basically any of the things that will help him, that means it's not going to magically get better, it's going to take time and effort and it will probably never be fixed, just improved, and he hates that so much he's choosing to treat this like a temporary cold or flu that will blow over any day now
Donnie doesn't understand that so he takes Leo's refusal as a rejection and animosity abounds!
breakdowns and admissions of feelings will eventually happen
Donnie and Leo together come to grips with the idea that there is no fixing this and there is no return to how things were before but they can work toward a new normal that's just as good
Mikey
this one is a little bit too big for Dr. Delicate Touch and Dr. Feelings
Mikey tries, but he is just a kid, and with their dad emotionally retreating too there's just too many feelings for him to deal with on his own
he's gonna play family therapist until he breaks
he's frustrated because he can see what each of his brothers need to do to feel better but they just! won't! they won't do it, and he doesn't know how to make them
he's really stressed
it's Mikey that realizes that Leo needs goals to work toward to get himself motivated to take care of himself, and it's Mikey who pushes the hardest for Leo's new role in the team
sometimes Mikey will challenge Leo to something silly, like who can make the most throws of a paper ball into a trash can, just to push Leo into exercising
he finds other little ways to help the others too, but he still can't solve the big problems on his own
meltdown ensues
Mikey has to learn to take care of himself, too, while the others have to learn they can't lean so hard on him for all their emotional problems
April
the only one holding on around here. it helps that she doesn't actually have to live in the powderkeg
takes a rationally minded approach to all these problems, kind of functioning like family therapist along with Mikey but in a healthier and more controlled way
helps get them resources from above ground
Leo opens up the most about his feelings about his physical condition to her first, because she strikes the best balance between being a sympathetic ear without coddling him
she's also stressed, but she has an outside support network so she's handling it better
Splinter
fully blames himself for what happened to Leo and has a hard time getting over it
depression in full swing
it means he can't easily get out of bed to help his kids, but then he feels bad because he isn't helping them, which worsens the depression, which makes it hard to get out of bed... a vicious cycle
when Leo starts working on his condition he gets a pact out of his dad that they will both work on being healthier together
maybe they manage to find an actual therapist eventually idk lol
either way, Splinter and Leo grumpily sitting over their plate of broccoli and then Leo says "bet I can eat more pieces than you" and it's on son
he's trying his best
Leo's Condition
Leo came out of the armor severely dehydrated and malnourished, even more so than any person should realistically be after two days; just keeping him from dying of the dehydration was the most immediate struggle
the main issue is that Leo's life force, mystic abilities included, were basically sucked out, leaving his body catastrophically physically weak
his muscle mass can come back with time and diet
the bigger problems are the bone density and chronic fatigue. while Leo can improve these, they'll never be back to where they were before the Dark Armor
his reduced bone density means he has to be careful doing anything physical because the chance he can break a bone is much higher than average, and he stands to suffer more from that break than the average person
he'll eventually get to where he can go through his day-to-day life just fine most days, and can even do some of the physical things he enjoyed before, he just has to be careful and know his limits. he'll never be pulling the 1440 off the halfpipe again, but he can still skateboard as long as he's careful.
even when recovered (as much as he can be), he has bad days and days when the fatigue is really strong. how Leo feels on a bad day is up in the air; sometimes he's at peace with it and generally cheerful, happy to be around his family even if he spends most of the time in his chair or on the couch dozing in and out. other days the depression rears its ugly head and he can get a bit nasty and bitter again. his family is much more patient with him on days like that than he is with himself.
in the beginning Leo also has brain fog and sensitivity to light and sound. these clear up over time, especially once Leo starts making more effort to exercise his brain. he starts reading a lot more and doing puzzles, especially things like sudoku and word puzzles, which helps a lot. thankfully these changes aren't permanent
his inner ears were also damaged a bit, this also heals up largely on its own, sometimes he still has difficulties hearing his brothers if they're whispering or far away but it's not so bad he needs assistance
Leo's Devices
Wheelchair
this is obviously the one Donnie had the most fun building and it shows. this baby is tricked out. Leo also likes to suggest improvements often, some for actual functionality but many just because he thinks it would be cool (like neon lights on the spokes)
it is blue obviously. do you even need me to tell you that?
it's fully electronic but Leo can also wheel it around freely if he wishes. Leo likes to wheel himself when he has the energy because it's good exercise he doesn't have to go out of his way for and he just likes feeling like he's moving himself under his own power. but when he's not feeling up to it he just drives it with the electronic controls instead
it has handles that extend and retract. being allowed to touch the handles is a major sign of Leo's trust and initially it's only for his bros + April + Splinter. Leo hates being moved when he doesn't actually ask to be moved, and he also hates being tipped backwards so his fam knows not to do it even as a joke (and it's so heavy that tipping him is kind of hard, anyway). someone touching the handles or messing around with them without permission gets you immediate backlash from protective siblings
that said Leo has them extended often so he can hang things off them, even though Donnie constantly gripes that that is not their intended purpose!
Sr Hueso is another person who gets handle-touching-privileges pretty fast, and he's also the one Leo asks to move him most often because he thinks it's really funny. he hams it up every time. Hueso is exasperated but does it anyway
(if Hueso adds a few extra wheelchair-accessible tables to Run of the Mill no one has to know)
the chair can also be moved by S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. this is mostly just for emergency situations, or times when the chair is somewhere Leo is not. Shelldon is a very good boy who does not move the chair without Leo's permission.
it has a billion storage spaces and little hidey holes and it can sync with Leo's phone to play music and it also has a charge port for his phone and yeah basically anything Leo and Donnie can come up with goes into this thing. it's a behemoth
Donnie also made Leo a lighter-weight chair with fewer features that he most often uses when he's good using his walker/cane/braces but wants to clear a larger distance first, and eventually Donnie makes him an athletic wheelchair so he can play games like wheelchair basketball
Walker
the walker is also blue but there's nothing particularly special about it
Leo hates using it because it feels like an old person thing. even if realistically he knows there are plenty of reasons people use them, including his own situation, culture is culture and it makes him feel bad no matter what rationality states
so basically once he doesn't have to use it he doesn't
as they all get more comfortable with Leo's situation and he starts openly using humor to cope, jokes about Leo's chair and cane become pretty commonplace in the fam (all good-natured of course). they know the walker is too much of a sore spot though, and poking fun at it is the fastest way to get Leo to do something stupid, so no one does. it's better to just pretend it's not there
Crutches/Canes
he eventually ends up with a variety of these, with different levels of support depending on what he's needing on a given day.
some of the canes are more fashionable than others. this is important to him.
Leo pretty much always has one of these on hand just in case, even on days where he feels alright to walk on his own
he is not afraid to bonk a brother with a cane or crutch but he does so knowing they are free to retaliate
Leg Braces
Leo doesn't need these every day but they're a pretty standard part of his wardrobe at this point
they start out plain but get increasingly elaborately decorated as time goes on because he, Donnie, and Mikey can't help themselves
like the walker, the braces are in the "don't make fun of" zone, though Leo is happy to get positive comments about them and doesn't really need their presence ignored
Other Mobility Aids
Leo has a variety of things to help with his loss of grip strength, difficulties bending over, tremors, etc. all of them are either made by Donnie or ethically "acquired" by April
he drives everyone crazy by leaving them in random places and then forgetting where they are. Donnie starts installing locator tags on everything they give Leo
jokes about these are fine, Leo makes them often himself and has silly names for all of them (this also drives Donnie crazy)
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